China, Centerpieces, and Red Satin Sheets

Posted by Emily M. | March 31, 2008 | 8 Comments

I served on the Enrichment committee for a few years. This was a “stretch” calling for me. I loved working with the other women on the committee. I did not love Making Things Beautiful. I stink at it, and yet it’s a hallmark of Relief Society. Ask me to speak in church with ten minutes’ notice, or with no notice at all. I’d do it happily, relishing the chance, even. Much more happily than if you wanted me to create a lovely display table, or decorate for the Relief Society Birthday party. I chafed at the fussing over Beauty Details.

For one of the first activities I helped with, I was assigned to bring china to our August garden party. We would have called it a tea party, but there was no tea. Therefore, garden party. “China!?” I told Matt at home. “Why china? Why not plastic? They make nice plastic dishes these days. Who needs china?”

“How am I going to carry it?” I asked the Enrichment leader in our next planning meeting. I was a little passive-aggressive: I would do it, but along the way I pointed out all the difficulties of getting it done.

“Wrapped in cloth and towels, it’s not too far,” she said. “There are lots of women who would volunteer their china.”

We used mine, its first use since I got married, and the china of several other sisters. I packed it carefully in towels and laundry baskets, and brought it for the committee to set up. I couldn’t stay to help, but I come back later just as they were finishing the preparations: eight round tables, lavender colored linen tablecloths, tiered hors-dourves centerpieces. Each place had a china place setting. The warm air smelled of basil and tomatoes. There was a little gazebo in the garden, and a few paths to explore.

I watched the sisters’ faces as they entered. They seemed to relax here, to visibly soften in a response to this beauty.

All these little touches don’t come naturally to me. They are not things I would think of on my own: the centerpiece arranged just so, the tiered servers on each table, the ironed tablecloths. I balked at them: is this really necessary? Do we have to add this detail? It’s good enough, it’s beautiful enough.

But this was beauty creation in a pure form: not to be better than anyone else, but to serve. To make the women in my ward feel honored, special. I was surprised at what a difference china made; I would have been content with paper cups and plates. It would have been much easier. But it would not have been the same.

Angela Schultz’ essay Red Satin Sheets explores the way that consecrating surprises us: consecrating may mean red satin sheets instead of plain cotton ones, buying a bag of potato chips instead of eating rice and beans, making the sacrifices that stretch and challenge us, sometimes in funny ways–God has a sense of humor.

I loved her essay because it’s both hilarious and deeply true: God does not always ask us to sacrifice the things we’re inclined to give. That’s the reason He called me to serve on the Enrichment committee: so that I could gain a testimony of china and centerpieces.

Go read her (very funny) essay and tell me how consecrating has surprised you.

Category: Liken the Journal

Comments

8 Responses to “China, Centerpieces, and Red Satin Sheets”

Wendy
March 31st, 2008 @ 3:15 pm

Emily, this was fantastic! And I loved Angela’s essay.

I’m stuck on the consecrating question, because I’m still relishing in your anti-beauty-making, anti-fuss sentiments about RS.

Hm. I think this does fit your question afterall: When I was asked to be the homemaking leader in a student ward, my literal response was, “But I don’t do crafts.” The counselor reassured me I wouldn’t have to. With that answer, I said yes. I was not happy when my setting apart blessing said I would help bring the sisters together “by doing things like crafts.” In my anti-craft zeal, I had been quoting Isaiah for a few years by then, “And they worship the work of their own hands.”

So we planned crafts. And I was surprised at how much I enjoyed sitting around a table making stupid froux froux looking things while getting to know the women in our ward.
I caught the vision. I think it’s a similar vision to your china insight–and I would’ve been right on board with you on the preferred plastic.
s'mee
March 31st, 2008 @ 11:20 pm

A dear friend of mine once reminded me that, “because I had everything shouldn’t I give everything in return? We have the fullness of the Gospel, we have the benefit of ‘things’ and also ‘opportunity’ living in the US (or other highly developed countries); therefore we can ‘afford’ to spend our resources, time, and efforts to lift and elevate those around us. In doing so we remind the sisters that they are worth it.”

I know *I* love being fussed over. I have also come to look forward to those special women who *never* forget the consecration of their hearts to my behalf and benefit. It is part of their fabric.

I have forgotten this advice from time to time, however when I remember and act upon it, I have never regretted giving more than I thought (or honestly felt) was necessary.
eljee
March 31st, 2008 @ 11:31 pm

I do think there is a balance. I once served on an enrichment committee where the RS counselor over us took this “making it nice so the sisters will feel loved” to the extreme. Every December she insisted on doing a HUGE dinner and program. One year enrichment fell just three days before Christmas, but we still had to drag half our houses down to the church for the dinner. Some people even undecorated their Christmas trees, donated them to the event, then took them home and put them back up. Most of us felt nothing but stressed. It was such a busy month for everyone on the committee as well as all the sisters in the ward. We already had a big ward Christmas party earlier in the month; I was glad when we got a new presidency who opted for a simple goodie exchange and carol-singing. Timing is everything, I think–at a different time, this might have felt more like a labor of love.
Coffinberry
April 1st, 2008 @ 9:14 am

Score one for the advantage of not owning any china, centerpieces, linen tablecloths, or layered servers… no one can ask me to share them.
Coffinberry
April 1st, 2008 @ 9:24 am

Ok, so I commented before reading the essay… which was thought provoking, and reminded me that I need to get out of my comfort zone. I think the thing that surprises me most about consecrating comes when the thing asked of me to do seems so different from what others are asked to do, that it becomes easy to forget that it is giving. And I also forget to ask for help (I am in needs of bucketloads of a simple kind of help in the next couple of months, but won’t ask). Consecration and burden-bearing have to be two-way streets, else it easily slips into martyrdom or haughtiness. I am not good at receiving. (Nor at friend-making.)
Claudia
April 1st, 2008 @ 11:45 am

I loved the essay, but drinking powdered milk does not save money any more than using fine cotton sheets. I love to use real plates and make a fuss. I think asking people to help out makes them have more of an interest in participation. I know not everyone agrees. That is fine. Didn’t somone say recently we should do less. Or, was it do more with less. I don’t know. These are interesting and thought provoking issues.
Emily M.
April 1st, 2008 @ 3:02 pm

Wendy, that is why I do crafts too. I like to sit around and chat. I’m not that good at making attractive things (another Enrichment committee challenge: coming up with projects for people to do), but I like to sit around and gab. And I think there’s value in that.

S’mee, it’s a great vision, to remind the sisters that they are worth the effort it takes. And they are. I also completely relate to what eljee is saying–holy cow. A giant party three days before Christmas. That would have made me grumble. A lot. I think there’s an interesting line between a labor of love and a labor of pride… sometimes I wonder how often there’s a tinge of pride in a spectacular over-the-top event. It’s not something you can really judge, since we don’t know others’ hearts. But I think that’s part of the core of we’re being taught: when we simplify, we serve because we love, not because we’re trying to prove that we are good servants.

Coffinberry, LOL on your first comment. And I love what you say: “Consecration and burden-bearing have to be two-way streets, else it easily slips into martyrdom or haughtiness.” That is so, so true. I also think that, as you say, it’s important to realize the differences in our talents. For me, creating a display table is a hugely stressful event. It gives me cold sweats wondering whether my things are arranged right, whether they are cute enough. I just absolutely hate it. But I love teaching Sunday School. As you say, we are asked to give in different ways.

Claudia, I agree that asking people to help gives them an interest in participating… I think, though, that I often underestimate what I’m asking others to do. If I ask someone to help me with a lesson by sharing a brief experience, and that person is terrified of public speaking, I’m asking for a big-deal thing without realizing it. And the same is true of someone who might ask me to… decorate a table with birthday-themed place settings. No biggie to them, huge stressor to me.

Thanks for all the great comments! I appreciate your insights very much.
Heather O.
April 2nd, 2008 @ 12:19 pm

I hated being the Enrichment Counselor too. Except when I taught the class on gardening. Which I assigned to myself. Sometimes power has it’s privileges.