Most of you've probably heard about the antics of Adam Lambert at the American Music Awards, so I won't describe them. Besides, I really don't want to. (If you haven't heard, here's a quick summary. Get it out of the way fast as you can, then get back to me.)

If you're like me, your first reaction was Ewww. Your second reaction, about two seconds later, was: How sad.

It's sad, first and foremost, that Adam Lambert is as messed up as he is. But it's also sad because it's such a waste of talent. Actually, "waste" isn't the best word. He's not just wasting his talent, he's warping it.

No one denies that Adam Lambert is talented. His vocal range is remarkable. He'd have won American Idol if the judges had their way. As it is, he almost did anyway. And yet, look what he's doing with his talents. (See link above.) Or better yet, don't look.

Sadder yet is Lambert's response to all this. He falls back on complaining that he's being picked on because he's gay, then cites the outrages of other AMA performers ("he noted that Lady Gaga smashed whiskey bottles during her performance, Eminem rapped about rape and Janet Jackson briefly groped a male dancer," a report summarizes) to distract from his own.

Janet Jackson, Eminem, Lady Gaga. Way to set your standards high, dude.

It's not like I'd expect to hear anything different from Adam Lambert, given who he is, any more than I'd expect better from Janet Jackson, Eminem or Lady Gaga. Still, it grieves me every time I think about what someone with talent could be doing with it. I feel the same way whenever talented actors/actresses resort to sex scenes or other sleazy material. I keep wishing I could tell them You can be so much better than this; you don't have to stoop to this. (No one really has to, but you know what I mean.)

When those thoughts run through my mind, I sometimes also think of a sermon I once heard called "Talent on Loan from God." The title was taken from one of Rush Limbaugh's catchphrases, but the pastor meant it seriously. All our talents are on loan from God, and the lender expects us to treat them that way, by seeking (to the extent it's within our power) to produce a good return on His investment. That's what the parable of the talents is all about. And that parable, by the way, is where the word talent (which at the time was a unit of coinage) got its later meaning: a gift or ability bestowed on us.

This is an alien perspective in the arts world today. There are plenty of technical standards to meet, but few ethical ones, and there's fairly little sense of a duty to do good to others, let alone to serve God. It's all about "self-expression," which is held to be worthwhile in its own right.

Really, that amounts to self-indulgence, and that ain't good. But the problem would be lost on many performers. Since the self is the measure of all things (you're supposed to tell everyone what you're feeling), what could be wrong with that?

I don't mean to draw this indictment too broadly. Obviously, there are Christian artists, and others with at least some sense of responsibility. By and large, though, the indictment is hard to refute: You'd have to go on a media blackout to miss all the evidence.

And the arts world is just an amped-up version of society. Self-fulfillment, self-help, self,self, self: We've been headed this way a long time. Adam Lambert's a particularly flamboyant and shameless version of his namesake: rebelling against God, insisting on doing things his own way. But how many of us, if asked what we're trying to do with their lives, talk about what we want, and how many talk about what God wants? And among the latter, how many are really looking for God's blessing on some not-so-Godly desires? That hits closer to home.

When we focus on Who gave us our talents, it changes our perspective radically. It makes us want to use them to please Him, not just indulge ourselves. A Christian who's a singer (to stick with the musical example) may sing plenty of songs besides Christian ones, but he won't sing just any song. He wants to create something beautiful or joyous or soulful. He won't wallow in darkness or depravity. That's not to say he'll never have to wrestle with those feelings, but he won't abuse his talents to spread them to others. He cares too much about his audience: He sings to lift them up, not to drag them down.

That's called being responsible, a word which (like duty) sounds grim to some people. It might well sound that way to Adam Lambert and Janet Jackson and Eminem. But it's anything but grim. Few things are more rewarding than knowing you're using whatever talents you've got to enrich your corner of creation, however small it may be. Whether you're good at singing or Web design or carpentry or bookkeeping, there's always something you can do. And if you approach it in the right spirit, you don't feel that you have to do it so much as that you get to do it.

To get this, you have to get some other things which Adam Lambert et al. don't get. We can only pray that some day they will. But we don't have to wait for some day to put our talents to good use. Today will do just fine.