Leading No One

 Guest Post by Alison photo by Thirdman via pexels.com

I currently serve as the sacrament meeting chorister. I am fully aware that what I do is probably not really even necessary. As I look out at the heads of the congregation (heads, mind you, not faces and eyes, because no one is looking at me) I sometimes do feel a bit useless. Even my 15 year old son comments that no one in the congregation follows me.  So every week I just think about how this calling pretty much epitomizes what it means to be a woman in this church.

The congregation probably doesn’t even know how to follow me (does anyone really know how to follow a woman’s leadership in the church? Do they ever really have an opportunity?). They don’t realize that when my arm starts waving, it’s time to sing. (this should be obvious but the fact that the first measure or so is often silent leads me to think they don’t understand this).

They don’t know that they should watch me to see how long to hold the fermatas or if we will be singing extra verses. Or maybe they know, but they don’t care? I am sure the congregation thinks they are following me (even though they don’t look at me? How does that even work?).

But really they are following the organist (who, conveniently enough for this analogy, is a man) because aside from starting when I give the first downbeat, the organist rarely follows me. So it doesn’t matter what I do, they sing what the organist plays. If I were in any of the few leadership positions I’m allowed to be in in the church, people would think they were following me, it would kind of look like it after all, but considering a man could potentially override any decision I would make, even in a leadership position, would I truly be leading anyone?

I am thanked a lot for doing this calling, more than I have been for any other calling I’ve ever had even if you don’t count the times I’m thanked over the pulpit. I’ve had people come up to me after sacrament meeting to thank me. I’ve received text messages telling me that they appreciate what I do. So I guess it’s important? Once someone even mailed me a handwritten note.

Once the bishop said he was so grateful for what I was doing because if he had to do it, he wouldn’t know how and he would just spell his name in the air. But here’s the thing, for all he knows that’s exactly what I am doing. He can’t even see me because, like in every sacrament meeting I’ve ever witnessed, I stand behind the bishopric. They have their backs to me. Those in the highest leadership positions in the ward have their backs to me. If what I am doing is so important and everyone is so grateful for it, why don’t those men make an effort to follow me?

Alison lives in the Midwest with her husband and four children. She teaches elementary school but wishes she was a world famous orchestra conductor.