Responsibility
As Peng and I entered the bishop’s office, I looked around the room. Chairs lined the wall across from the dark cherry desk. The bishop shook our hands and motioned for us to be seated.
I decided I preferred the Catholic style of confessional, where you didn’t have to look your religious leader in the eye when you spilled your guts.
But this was an unnecessary line of thought, right? I tried to convince myself one last time that we weren’t here to confess. The bishop just wanted to meet with us. I glanced at Peng, and his expression told me he was thinking the same thing I was. Who was I kidding? One of us was definitely in trouble. I just hoped it was Peng and not me.
“Peng,” the bishop began, looking intently at the boy beside me. This was a good sign. The focus was on Peng, not on me. “I wanted to speak with you about your new calling.” I breathed a silent sigh of relief. Maybe neither of us was in trouble after all. Maybe this was just friendly instruction.
“The president of a quorum is a significant calling. It doesn’t matter whether you are an adult or a young man. Being president means that you preside. And presiding means that you are responsible for each of the boys under your charge. When I laid my hands on your head, I gave you special keys associated with your calling. And with these keys, you will be able to know what is best for your quorum. But before you can be effective in exercising these keys, there is one thing you need to do first. Do you know what that is?”
Peng looked over to me as if asking for help, but I had no clue what answer the bishop was fishing for.
Peng returned his attention to the bishop and shook his head.
“You need to love the people under your stewardship,” the bishop said. “Until you can do that, nothing else really matters.”
Peng looked like he wanted to jump out of his chair and bolt from the room.
“Do you understand why this is important?”
“I understand,” Peng said. “But I don’t think it’s possible.”
I’d always heard that you should never lie to your bishop, but I thought that in this particular situation, Peng might have used a bit too much candor.
The bishop turned to me as if asking me to intervene. This was it. The moment of truth. The place where I stepped up and proved myself a wise and competent father. I realized I had no idea what to say, so I said the first thing that came into my head. “Don’t look at me,” I said. “I don’t like them either—except for maybe Joey.” As the words left my lips, I immediately wanted them back. But that was the problem with words: once escaped, there was no way they were going back into the cage.
I wasn’t sure how I expected the bishop to respond. Maybe shake his head and frown gravely; maybe wag a finger at me and chastise my impertinent behavior; maybe throw me out of his office and tell me to learn to grow up. I surely didn’t expect him to burst out laughing. But that was exactly what he did. He laughed so hard tears came to his eyes, and he had to remove his glasses and wipe his cheeks.
Peng’s eyes met mine. He looked scared.
“Sorry about that,” the bishop said, finally getting control of himself. “You’d think people would tell me the truth since I’m the bishop, but it’s rare that people are as brutally honest as you have both been. That’s not why I’m laughing though. I’m laughing because you both remind me a lot of myself. Those were almost my exact words when I was made bishop four years ago. The stake president told me I needed to learn to love the people in the ward, and I realized there were several I didn’t even like.
“I had a particular neighbor at the time who constantly had her nose in my business. If my dog barked even once, she would call animal control. If I had mulch delivered and left on the street while I spread it, she would call the city to complain. I didn’t like her. I didn’t like her at all. And she wasn’t the only person in the ward I felt that way about. I told the stake president that and asked him how I was supposed to be the bishop over people I didn’t like. Do you know what he said to me?”
Peng and I both shook our heads.
“He said, ‘The Lord isn’t asking you to like them; He’s asking you to love them. And you love those you serve. So stop whining, and start serving.’ I took the stake president’s advice, and even though my neighbor still drives me crazy at times, I can honestly say I love her. Not because she’s any less annoying but because I’ve learned to see her potential. I’ve learned to see her as the Lord sees her. And I’ve been able to gain that perspective because I worried less about liking her and more about serving her.
“Peng, I’m not asking you to change your feelings for any of these boys. I’m just asking you to serve them. The Lord will take care of the feeling part. That’s a promise. Do you think you can do that?”
“I guess I can try.” Peng still sounded unsure, but apparently it was enough for the bishop.
“That’s all I ask. Now why don’t you go ahead and join your family. I know you have a lot of visitors waiting to congratulate you.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. This meeting had been easier than I’d thought. We both got up to leave.
“Brother Knight, could you stay for just a few more minutes?”
I sighed and sat back down as Peng escaped out the door. I had been right all along. I was definitely the one in trouble. I decided to try a preemptive move. “I promise to try as well,” I said. “To serve the boys.”
“Good,” the bishop replied, pondering me over his glasses. “Because the best place you can serve them is on the upcoming high-adventure trip.”
“Uh, about that . . .”
“Brother Knight, you’ve been trying to find a way to get out of this trip since we announced it. Why is that?”
“It’s just that I have a lot of demands at the university, and I’m not sure it’s a good time for me to be away.”
“You forget that I’m also a professor at the university, and the week of the trip is considered the ideal week for most faculty to take a vacation. I’m sensing it’s something more than that.”
“Because of your gift of discernment as a bishop?”
“No, because of the way you screw up your face every time the trip is brought up.”
“Okay,” I said. “You’re right. I don’t want to go. But it’s not for selfish reasons. I just think it might be better for Peng if I sit this one out. Things with us are a little bit strained right now, and he’s got such a good relationship with Ron that I thought the time away from the family might help him grow. When Ron talks with him, I see progress. When I step in, he seems to withdraw.”
The bishop put his hand under his chin and seemed to consider my words. “You’re right,” he said. “Sometimes the right adult leader can help boys in ways parents can’t. And Ron does have a way of getting through to teenage boys.”
I sat up straighter in my chair. “So you agree. It would be better if I didn’t go.”
“Logically, that makes sense,” he said. “But my powers of discernment as a bishop are telling me otherwise. I’ve considered letting you out of this trip for the exact reasons you mentioned. The problem is that every time I think about you not going, I get a strong feeling of unease. Call it my bishop powers if you want to, but something told me you definitely need to go with the boys into the mountains.”
“Did your bishop powers tell you why?”
“Sorry, no. I just have a very strong feeling that it’s important that you go. But I can make a pretty good guess. It’s wrapped up in the nature and purpose of these high-adventure trips. I learned a long time ago that if we can get the boys in the mountains—away from cell phones and texting—if we can put them in a situation that tests them to their limits, miracles can happen. These trips aren’t just for fun. They are a transformative experience. I’ve seen it again and again. Boys and leaders go off as a bunch of individuals who don’t like each other and come back with a bond that can never be broken. It changes the very nature of the relationships. I’m not sure how, but it does.”
“So shouldn’t you be there to experience this change?” I said. “I mean, wouldn’t it be great for the bishop to have that kind of relationship with these boys?”
The bishop stood. “You’re not getting out of this, Matt. You can stop trying. And, yes, I would love to be there, but unfortunately I will be with the older boys at Lake Powell.”
“Lake Powell? Sounds like a vacation, not a high adventure.”
“I know. That’s what worries me. Some of the youth leaders don’t have the vision of providing a hard experience for the boys like Ron does. At least I know I can count on him to make it difficult.”
The bishop had a gleam in his eye, and it kind of scared me. Then again, the whole trip scared me. I trusted the bishop and his feelings—I really did. What I didn’t trust was his belief that this trip could transform my relationship with Peng. There was a gap there, one that I wasn’t sure a walk in the woods could fix.
To be truthful, there was something else bothering me. I didn’t have the spiritual sensitivities of the bishop, but every time I thought about this trip, I also felt something—a distinct sense of unease. It was a feeling I was familiar with. I’d felt it many times in my past life. It was a feeling that usually manifested when I was moving into serious danger—right before something bad was about to happen.
I wondered what the bishop would think if he knew I was considering carrying a gun with me in my backpack?
I decided he was probably better off not knowing.