Sustaining Church Leaders

I gave a talk today on Sustaining Church Leaders.  I agonized over it for weeks, and it almost refused to come together.  If I hadn't received an impression that I was supposed to give a talk, then I would have called the Bishopric Counselor back and said, "Okay, just change my topic."

Finally, yesterday it came to me.  I suddenly knew how to frame my talk, and where to focus, and it was nothing like what I had originally thought.  In fact, there were whole sections that I felt were "left out" or "missing."  But I felt strongly that it was the talk I was supposed to give.  So here it is, if you want to read it.

My topic is Sustaining Church Leadership, which I have something of a history with.  Brother Weidner is unaware of that history, or else when he called I would have said, “Okay, joke’s over.  What’s my REAL topic.”  I called the Bishop, who knows something of my illustrious past with this topic, and tried to talk him out of my speaking on it.  He was unimpressed but supportive.  And when I told my dad what my topic was, he just laughed.  I said, “Tithing!  I could give a GREAT talk about tithing!”  I asked him what I should say, and he said it was up to me.  I said, “Yes, but what would YOU say if you had to give a talk on Sustaining Church Leaders?”  He replied, “I’d give the talk on tithing.”

So we’ll start on tithing.  Tithing is a very clear commandment.  We might be able to squabble about the word “increase,” whether we pay on the gross or the net, for example, but it’s impossible to squabble about the amount we pay on that increase.  It’s 10%.  Period.  Any less is wrong.

Sustaining doesn’t quite work the same way.  First off, what does it mean to sustain, and then, how do we do it.  

President Hinckley said:  “The procedure of sustaining is much more than a ritualistic raising of the hand.  It is a commitment to uphold, to support, to assist those who have been selected.”  And Doctrine and Covenants, section 107, verse 22 says that the First Presidency (and we can insert all church leaders here) is “upheld by the confidence, faith, and prayer of the church.”

Notice how this is different than the law of tithing:  it’s subjective.  I should be supporting and upholding and assisting those leaders that I sustain.  Deciding how that is done is up to me.

             

Which brings us back to me and my history.  I was born rebellious in spirit, though not in behavior.  I have given authority to very few people in my life.  I was taught young that respect must be earned, and I wasn’t about to dole out Authority status to everyone who claimed it.  I was taught that I should do what was Right, not necessarily what I was told.

             

That’s not to say that I went around breaking every rule I could find.  In High School, I never drank or did drugs or went to parties I shouldn’t have, and I broke curfew only 1 time.  When my parents came into my room the next morning to talk about it, the conversation went something like this:

            Them:  You broke curfew.

            Me:  Yep.

            Them:  Do you have anything to say for yourself?

            Me:  Nope.

            Them:  Well, we think there should be a punishment.

            Me:  I agree.  How about I’m grounded for 2 weeks?

            Them:  Don’t you suppose that’s a little harsh?  How about 1 week?

            Me:  No.  I think 2 is good.

             

My parents had very few rules, but one solid game plan:  Do what was best for me.  My parents worked tirelessly, though not perfectly, to do what was best for their 8 children.  Did they make mistakes?  Yes, because they’re human.  But I knew they were reasonable, responsible people who loved me and were looking out for me.

             

My parents had a relatively set curfew.  10:00 on week nights, and 11:00 on weekends.  It could be changed.  I could respectfully petition them for an exception.  They were free to say no, which they did when I asked to stay out all night for Prom, and for that matter, I was free to disregard them.  But I had learned several valuable lessons from my parents that made me want to follow their leadership: 

            

            1 – My parents respected and loved me.  They knew I was capable of making my own decisions, and they expected me to.  They also valued my input and listened to my ideas.

            2 – The rules they had were for my good.  My parents set clear, reasonable rules.  They also gave out increased amounts of trust and freedom to those of us who earned it.

            3 – The bottom line, ALWAYS, was that they loved me.  I remember my father telling me, multiple times, that if I was ever in trouble, it didn’t matter where I was or what I’d been doing, all I needed to do was call, and he would come get me.  If I was somewhere I wasn’t supposed to be, it didn’t matter:  He wanted his daughter safe. 

             

Ideally, isn’t this how our leaders are supposed to be?  They love us, respect us, do what’s best for us, and give us helpful but not stifling guidance.  They happily listen to our ideas and suggestions, they rejoice at our triumphs, and they sorrow at our pain.  … Ideally, isn’t this how we ALL should be?

             

Heavenly Father has made this clear:  Christ said that we should love one another, and that is how others will know we are His disciples.  In D&C 38:27, we are told that if we are not one, we are not His.  We are being asked to sustain not only our leaders, but each other.  We are asked to uphold, support, and assist each other.  So we should.

            

How do we do that?  Well, for me, it starts with respect, since respect is something that I’m slow to give.  I can start with the basic respect for another human being.  We are all children of God and deserve to be treated as such.  The titles of Brother and Sister are meant to remind us of that.

            

 Going back to church leadership in particular, I can acknowledge that the men and women who are called to certain positions have the Authority to be in said positions.  I believe, for instance, that Bishop Cybulski has the Preisthood Authority to be Bishop of our ward.  When he was first called, that’s all I knew.  I didn’t know if he would be a good leader, but I knew he had the Authority to be Bishop.

             

And having that Authority, he also has a stewardship over me.  I firmly believe that the first person who has stewardship over me is me.  …  After I wrote that line, I realized I was wrong.  The first person who has stewardship over me is Heavenly Father.  This is a lesson that I’ve been slow to learn, and one that I’ve fought.  I’d like to think that it’s MY life and MY things, but it’s really not.  So let me revise that sentence:  The first person who has stewardship over me is Heavenly Father.  He was making good decisions for me and guiding and directing me before I can even remember.  The second person who has stewardship over me is me.  Next it’s my husband.  Then it’s my father, with my mother by his side.  And then it’s my Bishop.  All of these people can lose their standing by interrupting their relationship with Heavenly Father.

             

Sadly, that sometimes happens.  There are leaders who make bad decisions.  Little ones.  Big ones.  It happens.  I think that those church leaders who make colossal mistakes are the exception and not the rule.  Usually, I think most mistakes, even ones that cause pain, are misunderstandings.  I’m going to speak for the Bishop here, since I have the pulpit, and say that if you have been offended by something he has said or done, or not said or done, then go to him.  He will offer a sincere apology.  He’s that kind of man.  But I hope you also are willing to forgive.  The Bishop is just 1 man.  He can’t do everything right for everybody all the time.  I think that’s impossible.

             

I’ll tell you about Bishop Challis, who was the Bishop of my BYU ward.  He was an intimidating man, tall, always in his suit, intense, and opinionated.  His version of sacrament meeting was to invite whoever had been inspired that week to come up and talk.  It was brilliant, but unvonventional.  So he could rub people the wrong way.  Plus, the oldest of us was 25, maybe, and he was ancient.  Like 50.  So he was intimidating.  Shortly after he was called, I saw him and his wife at a restaurant.  He was wearing jeans, cowboy boots, and a belt buckle, and I was never intimidated by him again.  Our ward was full of transients, people who were in and out of the ward, sometimes in only a semester.  We were the "old couple" there, because we stuck around for like 3 or 4 years.  I felt like I was something of an ambassador for the Bishop.  Nearly every time I got up to speak I talked about how great this guy was.  He loved us as members of his ward.  Which isn’t to say I agreed with everything he did.  Once he handled a situation with Rob and I, I thought, unnecessarily harshly.  I was offended, and it was hard.  A few months later, he realized that he had handled the situation poorly and apologized to us about it.  And it wasn’t because I had been gabbing about the situation, or even because I’d brought it up to him.  He realized that he was in the wrong, and he apologized.  He loved us.

             

In closing, I want to say that I like coming to church because I like associating with all of you amazing people.  I have this idea that if I hang out with you guys long enough, then maybe some of your amazingness will rub off on me.  It’s a long process.  This is also why I married Rob.  And if I stay married long enough, and keep coming to church long enough, then maybe it’ll happen:  Someday I’ll be awesome like you.

             

I know that this is the true Church.  If I didn’t know it, I wouldn’t be here.  I know that Jesus is the Christ.  I know He loves us more than we can imagine.  I know He loves us no matter what.  He’s that kind of man.  I know that Heavenly Father’s greatest wish is for us to return and live with Him again.  I am grateful for the experiences that I have had that have taught me this.  They have come gradually, sometimes painfully, sometimes powerfully, sometimes softly.  But they have come, and they continue to come, and I am grateful to belong to a Church that teaches that we all have a right to a personal witness.  Without it, I would be lost.