I am a feminist. I used to be afraid to say that aloud for fear people would think I was that kind of feminist. But the truth is I am a feminist and I have known it since the day I called out my dad for not letting the Laurels go deep sea fishing when he was perfectly willing to take the Priests.
That said, some time ago in Relief Society the discussion went a little too far on a “we women do it better” tangent and I got all squirmy in my seat. I acknowledge that some of the stereotypes about men and women in the church may have some truth to them. I recognize, with sadness, that not every woman has had positive experiences at the hands of the priesthood holders in their lives. I realize I’ve been a bit spoiled: I grew up with a righteous father (who was, however, still a product of his time). I am married to a righteous priesthood holder who treats me as an equal. We have three sons whom we are trying to raise to be respectful of women. And one time my bishop actually made it a point to thank me for speaking my mind (which I admit I have done on more than one occasion). But whatever the reason, I feel I can still care deeply and speak out about women’s issues without wanting to go off on the good guys.
So while I’m not afraid to call it out when I hear a priesthood leader (not in my ward) say a sister shouldn’t be allowed to say the closing prayer or I see a sister who participated in a meeting overlooked when the person conducting says “thank you brethren” at the close of the meeting, I’m also not afraid to acknowledge some of the quiet and often thankless service I see being done by men and boys who try diligently to honor the priesthood that they bear and to serve in whatever capacity they are asked.
Here is a random sampling…
One blustery January day I found myself having to stop by a friend’s house to pick up something after church. It was bitter cold. It was snowing horizontally. And the wind was blowing so hard I could hardly open my car door to get out. Walking up behind me were two Deacons, out collecting fast offerings in that kind of weather. I admitted to myself that there is good reason I didn’t go into postal work, and if I had a calling that involved going out in rain or sleet or snow, it’s entirely possible I would be a slothful servant and find excuses to put it off until later. Much later. Yet there there were the Deacons out doing their job, just like they are every month for two weeks in a row and in all kinds of weather.
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Some time ago the decision was made to expand the Relief Society room at the stake center where my ward meets. After the addition was completed it was evident–especially through the art–that great care had been taken to create a lovely space for the sisters in our stake. A short time after we resumed holding Relief Society in our new room, one of the stake Relief Society leaders came to recount the story behind the work that was done and the sacrifices that were made to get it done. It turns out the stake priesthood leaders, who have more meetings to attend than just about anyone, have traditionally provided refreshments at some of those long meetings. I don’t know if that comes out of the budget or from personal donations–that didn’t really matter to me. But I was touched to learn that the the brethren had volunteered to give up their refreshments for well over a year for the specific purpose of being able to fund beautiful art for our new Relief Society room.
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This summer our ward held our annual Relief Society progressive dinner. We happened to be meeting at several houses along the same street. I had to bail out early and as I walked past the house where we had met for appetizers I noticed a member of our Elder’s Quorum quietly taking down the tables and chairs. It hadn’t even occurred to me that because we were meeting at three different homes, three different venues would have to be set up and taken down. Now I know women are perfectly capable of putting up their own tables and chairs, but I appreciate the thoughtfulness on the part of our priesthood quorums who take care of it for us whenever we ask them to. In fact I know they often offer to do it without being asked.
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These may be simple acts of service, but I see such service rendered by many of the boys and brethren in my ward and stake on a regular basis: cub scouts raking leaves, home teachers doing home repairs, three of the men in my ward giving up part or most of their Saturday to help out when raw sewage backed up in our basement, a neighbor building grow boxes for a single mother with many mouths to feed, my own son laying his hands on my head to assist in giving a priesthood blessing. In my mind these are no small things.
What about you? We often hear the home teacher horror stories and read about good priesthood bearers gone bad. But let’s take a minute today to seek out the praiseworthy and of good report. In what specific ways has your life been blessed recently by the men and boys in your life? How did that make a difference for you? If you are a mother of sons, how do you help teach them to honor their priesthood and use it to serve?
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