For a number of years, I was the bishop of a downtown Salt Lake City ward for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. No one mowed lawns in our congregation, which consisted entirely of apartment buildings and condominiums.
In some ways, it was a ward of extremes, with some church members living in million-dollar condominiums and others residing in apartments with subsidized rent.
Some ward members received monthly Supplemental Security Income, or SSI, because they had little to no resources. The average monthly SSI payment was around $725 for an annual income of $8,700, with some SNAP (Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program) benefits.
Several times a year, I received phone calls from people who had lived for months and years at the local Road Home homeless shelter. The Road Home found them an apartment and paid their first month of rent.
“Are you going to pay my rent next month, bishop?” the calls often went.
“How long have you been homeless?” and “Do you have any addictions to substances?” I would often ask.
But to know more, I needed to meet them first: “Will you come to church so we can talk in person?” If I could talk face to face, I would do whatever I could to help them get back on their feet.
That’s what God had called me to do.
Sometimes the phone calls and messages were from people recently released from the Salt Lake County Jail or from prison, from people asking things like: “Bishop, I’m looking for work and an apartment. I’m sleeping on my friend’s couch. He could lose his lease if I stay any longer.”
In addition to how long they had been in jail, I learned other questions to ask: “Why were you in jail/prison? Do you have any felonies or misdemeanors?”
Most apartment complexes will not allow people with felonies to even fill out an application.
If they had addictions, I found out what drugs they had used, how long they had been in recovery and what their recovery plan was.
In addition to church welfare support for food or for shelter, there were church resources at my disposal to help in matters related to addiction and counseling needs.
I marveled to see the spiritual strength and emotional energy it took for people to find lasting sobriety, including one woman in our ward living successfully nine years free of meth.
These people are precious — and began their lives with similar dreams as you and I. No one wakes up in the morning and says, “I’ll get addicted to a substance that destroys my life, my family relationships and might kill me.”
But so many people also feel trapped. I met a young man who had been high almost every day for three years. As long as he sold enough drugs, the cartel provided his daily drugs at no cost.
I witnessed firsthand the emotional manipulation and physical intimidation that makes it so hard for some women to leave someone abusing them physically and psychologically.
In all this, it’s common to hear thoughts like “you should get their family to help them.” That works in many instances, but in plenty of others, there just wasn’t a family there to involve — since these members came from broken homes with little support.
In these instances, the Latter-day Saint ward members became their family.
Like other wards in major cities, including throughout Salt Lake City, our congregational boundaries intentionally combined economically diverse parts of the area. For those who were mostly single and on their own, it was the inner-city missionaries, the elders quorum and Relief Society members (all lay congregants with regular lives and day jobs) who became their support systems, dedicating countless hours to people who might have otherwise been total strangers to them.
Their paths of healing were long, taking time and lots of help—and they also often required lots of financial resources.
As a bishop, I authorized more food orders than I can remember. This was only possible because there were Bishop’s Storehouses full, indeed overflowing, with high-quality goods and commodities to help stave off hunger, sustain life and furnish empty apartments.
Resources to be able to help with that in a moment’s notice are not built in a day. They are the result of generations of church members and leaders building and saving resources with an eye toward supporting those in acute moments of need who are seeking to get back on their feet.
Often the circumstances were complicated. I faced countless decisions involving resources: Do I authorize the purchase of an airplane ticket so a member (who got out of jail the previous year) can fly east to attend his father’s funeral? Should the ward pay for the cremation costs for a sister who passed away because her children can’t afford it? And over and over again, should we continue to pay this member’s rent this month?
So many would come to church without being able to work. Some suffered from traumatic brain injuries and other physical ailments.
We helped. Church resources helped. Church members helped.
I was thankful for fast offering funds available when it seemed clear someone needed support. Fast offering donations come from church members and are available as financial resources for distribution to the poor. At times, fast offering funds were not required: arranging for a food order to be filled at Bishop’s Storehouses, run by the church, meant a family would not be hungry. No check writing was required, just a food order that could then be picked up at a place that looks like a more utilitarian version of a supermarket.
If someone was sleeping on the floor in their apartment, I could also authorize getting a bed or other items from Deseret Industries, also run by the church.
I developed tremendous respect for the work done by the Deseret Industries staff — who were themselves often working to get back on their feet — in helping ward members learn skills and attitudes necessary to work.
And for those members with psychological and emotional issues, I cannot say enough good things about Latter-day Saint Family Services. I was confident when I signed an authorization for services to receive counseling they were treated with care, respect and professionalism. I always valued the counselor’s insights and advice about the members they were supporting.
Much is asked of lay church leaders, and I was appreciative as bishop for the monetary and non-monetary resources at my disposal to aid others.
It’s fair to have broader conversations about faith and finances. What’s the proper use of resources and donations? Are we striking the proper balance? But in order to have such discussions truthfully, there ought to be more talk about the complex, arduous, but also ultimately redemptive work these funds make possible at the congregation level, where the needs of members and others are addressed one by one.
This story is too often missing in today’s headlines.
I saw the way that church funds, donated by everyday Latter-day Saints, could operate in a way money is discussed in Jesus’ great parable of the good samaritan.
Church funds can pay for the donkey that carries the man abandoned on the side of the road to safety. Church funds can pay for the oil and bandages to bind up the man’s wounds. Church funds can provide the food and drink to nourish him. And yes, church funds can even pay the “two pence” given to the innkeeper to take care of the waylaid man.
But, as a bishop, I saw how church funds can also be what pay for the inn itself — with each ward building becoming a place for waylaid souls to find spiritual and temporal healing to get back on their feet — at least until the true Good Samaritan once again returns.
Joel Briscoe is a retired high school teacher who has been the president of the Salt Lake City School Board. He currently serves in the Utah House of Representatives and as the ward mission leader in his local congregation.