Bother

And why should I yield to sin, because of my flesh? Yea, why should I give way to temptations, that the evil one have place in my heart to destroy my peace and afflict my soul? Why am I angry because of mine enemy? (2 Nephi 4:27)

Okay, maybe 'angry' isn't the right word in this situation, so much as 'frustrated'. And the individual in question isn't really an enemy; he's just a guy I go to church with. But he's bugging the heck out of me, and I can't really explain why. It's frustrating.

Okay, here's the story. When the Ward was reorganized in January, all of the auxiliary presidencies were left intact. I was serving as Sunday School President, so responsibility for the reorganizations concerning that program fell ultimately to me. I found rooms for classes to be held in the new building, worked with the bishopric to fill staffing needs, and tried to keep the existing teachers up-to-date as much as possible about all the changes. All in all, things went fairly smoothly. There haven't been a lot of complaints.

You'll notice that I said "not a lot of complaints", not "no complaints". There have been some—two, specifically, that stand out in my mind. And wouldn't you know it, both of them came from the same individual.

The first incident originated in February. We had Ward Conference scheduled, and in the absence of any other instructions from the Stake, we had the normal Sunday School lessons planned. Then, about a week before the Sunday in question, I got a call from the Stake Sunday School president informing me that we would not be holding the usual classes that day, but rather that they (the Stake Sunday School presidency) would be addressing all the adults together during the Sunday School hour. By this time it was too late to readjust the lesson schedule for the month, so we made the decision to have the teachers maintain the original schedule for the rest of February and teach the missed lesson the first Sunday in March.

This worked out well for us¹ and it seemed to work out okay for the Ward members, though some of them were a little surprised at which lesson we were teaching. Sacrament Meeting, Sunday School, and Priesthood all came and went, and I was ready to go home. But before I could leave, one of men in my Priesthood group said he wanted to talk to me.

He introduced himself (we'll call him 'Brother C.') and told me he had a complaint about his Sunday School class. Since I had been teaching the other one,² I didn't know what had happened. So I asked what the problem was, and he told me that the teacher in his class had taught the wrong lesson. Ah, easily explained, I told him, and I proceeded to explain it. And that should have been the end of it, I though. But he made sure to let me know that he and his wife put a lot of time and effort into preparing for each week's lesson, and that he was disappointed that all their preparation had been wasted. I reminded³ him that we'd be teaching the lesson for which they had prepared the very next week, and that their preparation wasn't wasted at all, just unintentionally early. His wife had joined the conversation by then and wanted me to know that we had, in fact, already had that lesson. Rather than offering the let her look at the lesson schedules for the entire year-to-date, I thanked them both for their concern and told⁴ them we'd be back on schedule the following week. I could tell their minds were set on the matter, and that they weren't likely to be swayed by something as flimsy as the facts.

Now for the second incident. I had been told by the bishopric in late March that we needed to start a third Gospel Doctrine class to accommodate the larger numbers who had been attending since the reorganization.⁵ So I let all the teachers know that we'd be starting a third class effective May 4th, and gave them a tentative schedule for who would be teaching that week. One of those teachers found out he had a work conflict and said he'd try to find a substitute. By that time I had found out that the previous decision had been reversed, and that the plan to start a third class had been put on indefinite hold. So I told that teacher not to worry about it, that he didn't need to find a substitute after all.

So about a week ago, I got an e-mail⁶ from the substitute our teacher had chosen, asking for more details about which room she'd be teaching in. It was a short, simple e-mail. I responded in kind:

As it turns out, we won't be needing a substitute for the first Sunday in May after all. There was a scheduling issue that has since been resolved. So you're off the hook. Thank you for your willingness to fill in, though. We'd be happy to use your services in the future if you're willing.

Thanks again!

It didn't occur to me at the time that this substitute was, in fact, the wife of Brother C.

And that brings us to Sunday afternoon. Brother C. approached me again after the meeting block, and after a few pleasantries, told me how he did not approve of the way I'd handled the substitute situation with his wife. He said his wife had prepared the entire lesson, including handouts,⁷ and that my quick e-mail response had a "finality" that was frustrating. He told me there was a whole "range of feelings that can't be communicated in an e-mail", and that I should have called her. I told him that I replied by e-mail because she had contacted me by e-mail; I had just assumed that would be the preferred method of response. He was unsatisfied; he told me, in essence, that I should have had the sensitivity to call her.

So now I'm feeling that another confrontation with Brother C. over the way Sunday School is being handled is a matter of when, not if. And there's a part of me that's going to want to respond with something like, "So, you've sought me out three times now, and each time it's been to complain about the way I'm handling my calling. Now I can see one time, or even two, as coincidences, but three times is a trend. Shall I just assume that every time you want to talk to me from now on, it's because you're unhappy about something in Sunday School? Because if it is, I'll make it a point to sit closer to the door."

The thing that really confuses me about all of this is why I even care. I mean, really, why should this concern me at all? I'm not accountable to this guy; he's not in my 'chain of command', so to speak. He's just a guy I go to church with. The people I am answerable to—the bishopric, my counselors, my teachers—all seem okay with the way things have gone and are going. So why does this guy's grumbling bother me?

More importantly, what do I do about it? And I'm not talking about making him happy; that's not my job. If he wants to complain, he'll find things to complain about. "A fire-eater must eat fire," I've heard it said, "even if he must kindle it himself." I can't worry about him.⁸ I talking about my own mental and spiritual peace. I've always been one to take things personally. How do I just let go of this and get on with my own life and not let this guy's complaining bring me down?

I don't know. I feel like I should know, but I don't. And that bugs me even more.

Suggestions, as always, are greatly appreciated.

--

¹ 'Us' in this case being the Ward Sunday School presidency and the teachers.

² We have two Gospel Doctrine classes in our Ward, and I teach one of them every third week. The other two weeks, I typically spoend at least some of the second hour visiting the various classes to make sure everything is going all right.

³ I say 'reminded' because I had already explained this as part of the overall explanation before.

⁴ Or 'reminded', one might say.

⁵ We added somewhere between ½ and ¾ of the membership of old 4th Ward to our numbers at that time, which nearly doubled our own numbers.

⁶ We do most of our Sunday School business by e-mail; my counselors and I, as well as most of the teachers, find it easier to communicate that way. Plus, you get a record of everything without doing any extra work.

⁷ She had mentioned mentioned none of this in her e-mail.

⁸ Even though I seem to be doing just that.