Mormon Twentysomething: Even Utah needs good examples of the church

One of the basic tenets of gospel living has always been to set a good example for our neighbors. "Let your light so shine before men," the Savior said. "That they may see your good works and glorify your Father which is in heaven."

Trouble is, some of us seem to think that guideline doesn't apply when we live in "Zion."

Case in point: My wife, Annie, works at a bank in Utah valley where a significant number of the customers are active Latter-day Saints. She knows this because they frequently come in to cash checks from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints — presumably reimbursement for money spent on ward activities.

At least once a week — and usually much more often than that — Annie comes home with some story about a Mormon who acted rude, through a hissy fit or made veiled threats to the employees because he or she didn't like a bank policy.

A lot of Annie's co-workers are inactive members of the church who have become disillusioned with LDS culture for one reason or another. Ultimately, these people are responsible for their own spiritual lives, but members like the ones they encounter almost daily sure make it easy for them to stay far away from the church.

As for my wife, she has worked in retail for several years and has developed a fairly thick skin against rude, cranky and insulting customers. For the most part, she successfully maintains the veneer of a helpful, unannoyable employee and then quietly rolls her eyes as the offender walks out the door.

That is, until last week.

In her family's ward on the East Coast, there is a stalwart member of the church who was converted while playing in the NFL. Annie has always admired the convert and his family, and although she had never met the friend who introduced him to the church, she has admired him by relation. More than once, she has used this member missionary as an example of the long-lasting impact proclaiming the gospel can have.

Well, as luck would have it, that member missionary — who we'll call Tim — came to the bank last week. When Annie figured out who he was, she could hardly wait to meet him and tell him how much he had done for her family's ward simply by aiding in the conversion of a friend many years prior.

As Tim's transaction was being processed, she happily introduced herself and explained her connection to his friend in Pennsylvania.

Tim, though, was not interested in talking.

He responded to her attempts at conversation with irritated, monosyllabic answers, and when the transaction was over and he couldn't find his I.D., he angrily accused Annie of misplacing it. She calmly explained that she had placed his I.D. in the envelope he had received, and once he found it, he grew even more frustrated.

"Maybe if you worked here a little longer you wouldn't need to see my I.D. since I've banked here for 16 years," he grumbled before driving off.

Now, I'm inclined to give Tim the benefit of the doubt and assume he was just having a bad day. But I can't help but wonder if some of those angry, accusatory — and obviously Mormon — customers would be so vocal with their frustrations if they were banking somewhere outside Utah.

Is it possible that we sometimes rationalize and tell ourselves that representing our faith isn't as important when we're in predominantly LDS communities? That our actions really won't have any impact on the church or its members?

Tell that to Annie who lost respect for a longtime personal hero last week, or to her co-workers who frequently talk about the hypocrisy of the church they no longer attend.

When we were baptized, we covenanted to stand as witnesses of God at all times, and in all things and in all places.

I'm pretty sure that means even in Utah valley.