Today I accepted a calling (that’s Mormon Jargon for “unpaid job at church”) as the Assistant Ward Clerk in charge of finances, also known as the “Financial Secretary.”
When I put on my suit this morning, knowing the gig was coming up, I looked in the mirror and realized that without the beard, and with the classic male-pattern baldness showing nicely now that my hair is more than a quarter-inch long, I totally look the part of a timid little church accountant.
Most of the job is data entry, and I realized as I did it today that recording the contributions made by faithful saints is a pretty heady responsibility. The system is set up such that there’s no way I could abscond with the money — that’s not the point. The point is, I can see who is donating how much, and that irreversibly alters my opinions of these people. I see an aspect of their lives that few others do, and almost without fail they are elevated in my sight. I can see the honest and generous tithe of the wealthy man, and I can see the Widow’s Mite. I saw, for the first time in I don’t know how long, my OWN contributions. Sandra takes care of that for our family, and it was a nice reminder that she DOES take care of it. I mean, I never doubted, but SEEING the check, handling it, and inputting the pertinent details somehow made it more real.
Naturally, the first big thing that will get done is an audit. Any time they rotate new people into the Finance Secretary post, it triggers an audit. Oh, goody.