I’ve never been one for volunteering. What’s the point of working without getting paid? I did enough of that as a child when I had to make my bed, wash dishes and feed the dog. My mom used to have me iron my father’s handkerchiefs on laundry day. When I asked my dad to pay me ten cents per handkerchief he just stared at me then told me to change the TV channel. That was another job I had that I neither volunteered for nor got compensated for. When I worked in radio I volunteered to answer phones at the annual PBS pledge drive. I spent four hours in a freezing studio answering phone calls from people who thought $10 was a good pledge. My shift was actually five hours but I was “asked” to leave after someone overheard me telling a caller to “dig deeper” or they could say goodbye to Nova. 

My avoidance of volunteering ended when Tim and I got married and became members of our local Lutheran church. Before we even uttered our first amen we were hit up with volunteering “opportunities.” Usher. Altar Guild. Library. Greeters. Rummage Sale. Choir. Coffee Hour. Gardening. For years we had successfully avoided committing to anything. I did have a brief stint on the Altar Guild but when the pastor saw me pouring the unused consecrated wine down the drain I was “asked” to find something else to do. Finally, we were presented with an opportunity that we were actually excited about. Our youth pastor was putting together a weekly contemporary service aimed at bringing in a younger crowd. With Tim’s television production company and my event planning experience we were a perfect fit. The mid-week service lasted about two years and then when the youth pastor moved to a new church we were done. I was actually sad it was ending. I had a lot of fun volunteering at the church and that’s when I asked the pastor’s wife for a new position. “I’m so sorry this service is ending,” Andrea said. “Me too,” I replied. “Is there anything else I can volunteer for? I just don’t want to deal with old people, poor people or kids.” For a brief moment Andrea flinched, and then took a moment to digest my request. “Well, she said, “The office staff is always looking for someone to come in and help. I could ask Rose, the office manager.” And that’s how I ended up volunteering in the church office. 

Most people might think that the pastor is the person in the church who has his thumb on the pulse of the congregation. That is not true. It is the front office. Every phone call, every email, every written card and letter, and every in-person drop-in comes through the front office. Once in a while, envelopes with money in them for donations or weekly contributions might show up. In the event this happens, the person taking the envelope desperately tries to avert her eyes from the monetary amount while she deposits it in the accountants office within seconds. I’ve seen fire eaters who move slower than an office worker handling a parishioner’s check. It’s just best for all church staff and volunteers not to speculate on why the Davidson’s got a new Porsche but haven’t deposited a weekly contribution in over two years. 

Funeral arrangements are another subject that must be handled with the utmost care. Comforting a grieving family takes sensitivity, a caring nature and a calming voice. I’m not allowed to speak to the bereaved. Recently, a man phoned to plan a memorial service for his mother who was dying. Unfortunately, I answered the phone. In talking with this man, I gathered that his mother was on her way out but he could not give me an exact date. He suggested a date for the following week and I immediately put him on hold. “Rose, this guy wants to plan his mother’s funeral for next Friday. That’s the day of our annual chili cook-off! We can’t squeeze a funeral in that day. You need to talk to him!” “What am I supposed to tell him?” asked Rose. “Tell him to either have his mother die today or wait until after the chili cook off!” I replied. Fortunately for us, she lingered until the day after the chili cook off. Funerals and memorial services are not always easily planned. For her husband’s funeral, we once had a widow hire movers to replace our sanctuary piano with her grand piano from home. She said she knew “the excellence of instruments” and apparently our piano didn’t make the cut. 

Not all funerals involve funeral homes either. I signed for a package once from UPS and put the box in with the office supplies and other miscellaneous items delivered that day. Later on when Rose sorted through the deliveries she let out a stifled scream. “Mrs. Schneider’s ashes are in this box!” “Is that the box I signed for?” I yelled. “Yes!,” Rose answered more calmly. “Her son sent them from Florida for her memorial service.” ‘He sent them UPS? He wouldn’t even pay for FedEx?” I said. “What a cheapskate.” And then Rose and I both washed our hands. Many times.

What has actually led up to this latest tangent, is that our main sanctuary is undergoing a complete renovation. Over the past two years, a large committee of people have taken on the task of raising money and keeping the congregation informed on the construction. Every Sunday prior to the service we showed professional videos depicting the renovation. Along with numerous architectural drawings placed around the church, our website uploaded weekly updates. Since I like to write, I volunteered to be on the Communications Committee where I would put together a monthly article for the church newsletter. The newsletter was supposed to not only inform everyone of the process and timing of the renovation, it was also supposed to inspire them to keep giving money. After my first newsletter, the project manager suggested that I work with another person who had a different writing style than mine. Luckily, he chose my friend Nancy. Nancy is an excellent writer and has all of the finesse and compassion that people keep telling me I lack. Nancy’s job was to remove some of my sarcasm and “Jesus it up.” I suppose quoting Matthew 6:21 was a better choice than using the lyrics from Moneytalks by AC/DC. Needless to say, despite two years of discussions, newsletters, emails, videos and congregational meetings, some members were still shocked when the old sanctuary was torn down. 

Even before the first wall was bulldozed, the church office phones started ringing. Now, we’re used to the usual Monday morning phone calls complaining about Sunday’s service. The complaints range anywhere from typos in the bulletin, the pastor’s microphone was too loud, the pastor’s microphone wasn’t loud enough, why is there so much cheese at coffee hour, and so on. However, when the demolition began, the front office was bombarded with hysterical parishioners claiming they didn’t know the sanctuary was going to be torn down! Not only did the office have to try to enlighten callers that demolishing the sanctuary was always in the plan, they also had to maintain a pleasant church office demeanor. For that reason alone, Rose didn’t let me take any calls. Of course, many, many suggestions were made for alternatives to a complete demolition. Suggestions such as “removing the side walls and roof to “push out the sanctuary a little bit,” were brought forth. Others were horrified that for the duration of the renovation, services would be held in the gymnasium. Because, certainly the basketball nets would impede our prayers from actually reaching the Lord.

I’m happy to say that the renovation is nearing completion and hopefully we will be able to congregate in our beautiful new sanctuary before Christmas. For those of us who work and volunteer in the front office, we are looking forward to things calming down so we can get back to the business of planning baptisms, weddings, funerals and chili cook-offs. I guess with the increased space at church, and the prospect of bringing in many new members, there will be a lot more opportunities to volunteer. I’m pretty excited about that!