2-22-18 HIGH FIVE

If you've seen her dance, you will know. You will instinctively know the soul of my friend Sarah Robinette. She must have been one of those spirits who was chomping at the bit to get her body, because even though she is a petite little thing,  there is a gigantic spirit in there. That presence manifests in her dance, in her irresistible smile, and in every task she undertakes. All this magnificence vibrates in her being, in spite of struggles that repeatedly attack her and try to pull her down. She is hope personified.

Sarah and her husband Mark live north of us, in Fruit Heights, UT. Both Sarah and Mark are my musical cohorts. For years I have shared the stage with Mark at most of my concerts, and for Clytie Adams Ballet School recitals. Sarah is a guitar teacher's dream! She practises, even when she's feeling the weight of other burdens, and she just plain shows up. She's been showing up  at our Girls with Guitars classes for years, and it shows. She's a dandy guitar player.

A few years back Sarah and Mark spent a sweet summer night partying with their neighbors in an annual neighborhood BBQ. They ate yummy food and shared crazy stories, played music and danced and watched a movie on a big outdoor screen. It's one of their favorite annual activities, mostly because they really love the people in their neck of the woods.

The next morning, Sunday, Sarah and Mark drove to church separately, partly because Mark can't stand being late, and Sarah is more on my kind of time clock. The Robinette's are most often found sitting near the front, on one of the side sections where the pews line up against the chapel walls.  Mark sat on the inside, next to the wall. (I suspect that the wall is a good place to rest his head, but I am just guessing). Church had already started by the time Sarah arrived. The bishop was at the pulpit. As he spoke, Sarah tried to quietly sneak in, shimmying past a pew full of her neighbors to sit next to Mark. Just as she tried to squeeze past the first person on the bench, her friend raised his hand up, palm facing Sarah. Feeling the residual camaraderie from the previous night's gathering, she gave him a high-five. The person sitting next to him did the same thing. All the way down the bench Sarah slapped the hands of her good neighbors, smiling her huge sparkling smile, feeling the love. When she finally got to Mark, who was sitting next to the wall, he had his head down, pressed between his hands, shaking it back and forth. That was the point Sarah heard the bishop say; "Any opposed?"

You would have to be familiar with the Mormon Church to understand the humor in this. Our church has a lay ministry, which means all of us volunteer our service. Our leaders in the stake and ward organizations, which are basically our local congregations, prayerfully consider people and positions that need to be filled. They "call" members to serve in various positions, referred to as "callings". When a person accepts a calling, the person's name is put before the congregation and members are asked to sustain each one by raising their right hand. What Sarah had thought was a friendly "Hey, Friend!" was actually members raising their hands to sustain someone in a new calling.

Every time I raise my hand now, which is basically every Sunday, I get a little giggle going, thinking about Sarah Robinette. 

It seems quite fitting, to think that raising our hands to sustain each other is like giving them a big high-five. We don't raise our hands to indicate we are voting for someone to do a certain job; we raise our right hands, like we do before our legal courts, to make a commitment. We promise to sustain each other; to support, and pray for, and cheer them on. We essentially whisper, spirit to spirit: "You are called to teach the twelve-year-olds? Oh man, I will pray for you! You're gonna do great! If you need a sub, I'm here! If you feel overwhelmed and just want to talk, give me a buzz! If I find a couple of your students roaming around in the hallway during class, I'll help them find their way back!" (Notice how there are so many exclamation marks here? That's the grammatical version of a high-five!)

A few years ago, when part of our ward combined with another to create a brand new ward, I got up and dressed and drove to church for 8 a.m. choir practice. I was not super happy about it, being that I tend to get better sleep in the morning hours rather than late night hours. But I was there because, well, I figure if God gave me a voice I should use it to praise him. When I got there my friend Regan Tingey was there too, and both of us looked for the choir in every room that had a piano . Turned out practice was supposed to be at 8:30. While we waited for the rest of the choir  I asked Regan, "What compels you to be here so early Sunday morning?" He responded, "Well, when Patricia was called to lead the choir, I seem to recall raising my hand to sustain her."
Not only does Regan "get it" - putting his figurative money where his mouth is - he also has a lovely tenor voice. Basically Regan didn't just sit there in a Sabbath stupor and think he was voting for Patricia Anderson to do the choir thing if she wanted. He made an active decision to raise his right hand with his full heart, holding it up there for Patricia and everyone else to see, shouting without words "You GO, Patricia! I'm with you! High-five!"
I'm with Regan: High-five to everyone willing to serve! Rock on, Christian Soldiers!

If you are curious about the lay ministry of our church, here's a little synopsis of how it works:

Mormon Lay Ministry