Jerrod Guddat was raised in Seattle, Washington and is a convert to the Church. He has served in a variety of capacities in the Church and is currently serving as bishop of his ward. Jerrod, his remarkable wife, and their five kids live in Rexburg, Idaho.
Enter Jerrod…
My first Sunday of interviews was overwhelming. Put aside for a moment the lack of formal training the Church gives a new bishop and just consider the challenge of it all that first Sunday.
Ward Council is in 15 minutes? …what are we going to talk about?
A temple recommend interview? …where do I find those questions again?
Extending a calling?… which calling is it?
You need to be set apart? …how do I do that?
And putting aside the administrative overhead, what about those more important ministering interviews and experiences?
Sister Blakeney really needs to meet with you bishop.
Brother Carlyle says it’s a personal matter.
Sister Shupe says her son needs to see the bishop right away.
No amount of training can really prepare you for that first—or perhaps any—Sunday. But in the chaos of it all, there were moments of peace, moments where I and the adult, couple, or youth on the other side of the desk felt the Savior’s love. Each of those moments involved me reassuring the repentant transgressor that I have also sat on that side of the desk.
Something stirs the soul when church-goers realize the bishop isn’t perfect. Vulnerability has a way of connecting two souls together and after that first Sunday, I have found something that works for me. I consistently remind my congregation both in large and small groups of two things:
- Love: There isn’t anything you can think, say, or do that changes how I feel about you.
- Vulnerability: I’ve sat on both sides of the bishop’s desk.
Love: How I Feel About You
While I know adults appreciate the sentiment, I find that with youth in particular, when I express love to them for their efforts, express continued love even when they fail, and express that I will always love them even when they aren’t ready to change, they can more fully feel Jesus Christ in their lives.
Children, youth, and adults need reassurance that regardless of where they are at in life, they have people in their life who love them anyway. This has been a defining characteristic of my bishoping. Whether they can trust themselves or not, they can trust me to always love them. That is what the Savior would do.
Lest any feel that unconditional love may interfere with standards of morality and expectations to keep the commandments, let me illustrate my point of view from an unconventional scripture in the New Testament: Matthew 3:17. The context is the Savior’s baptism and verse 17 is one of only a couple of instances where we hear the voice of God in all of holy writ. “…This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.”
Whereas I believe his declaration of “beloved son” is an expression of love, I also believe “well pleased” is an expression of trust. I do not think Christ had to do anything to merit God’s love for him. We are all beloved sons and daughters of God. He loves us just because! But consider what Christ was doing in this moment. If there were anyone on the planet who didn’t need to be baptized (at least for the same reason that you and I and everyone else need to be baptized) it was Jesus Christ. And yet, he kept the commandments anyway. God could trust him.
Love is deserved. Trust is reserved.
My unconditional love for the adults, youth, and children in my ward says nothing about my ability to trust them. That is a different matter entirely. Trust, for example, is God’s requirement for temple admittance and we can cross that bridge when we get to it.
Vulnerability: Both Sides of the Bishop’s Desk
In my cursory research on churchofjesuschrist.org, the only references I can find to a church culture of “not sharing past transgressions” are found in seminary and institute manuals for teachers.
While I agree in principle that we should not tell the explicit details of our own sins to other people, I am wholeheartedly in favor of letting people know that I have sinned. Yes, even as the bishop. I don’t think there is a person in my ward that doesn’t know that I have a checkered past, that I have sat on both sides of the bishop’s desk. In my most recent address to my ward in Sacrament meeting, I shared that there was a time in my life when I couldn’t take the sacrament.
Shocking? Perhaps. Vulnerable? Oh, you betcha!
The Holy Realm of Empathy
Reassuring imperfect individuals and families that the bishop has had to utilize the Atonement of Jesus Christ just like they need to utilize the Atonement of Jesus Christ is not only reassuring but downright endearing.
Time and time again I have had members express appreciation for letting them know that I am “real,” that I have “flaws,” that I love them and can relate to them even if they don’t know the details or my specific sins. My vulnerability takes us past sympathy and enters the holy realm of empathy. That is how Jesus succors his people. I am grateful that members of my ward have trusted me with their challenges because they know that I have had some too.
Expressing love and expressing my own vulnerability has created a culture of inclusion and camaraderie in our ward. I do my best every day to LUV our congregants (Listen, Understand, and Validate). As a result of my efforts to love and be vulnerable, people have come forward to make needed changes in their lives.
I have had a few members of the church caution me on my authenticity and candor. I appreciate their perspective and respect their point of view. To them, however, I politely say “thank you for your concern, but I need to get back to my interviews that are lined up down the hall.”
Conclusion
In the end, as bishops and other church leaders, we are attempting to help all of God’s children draw closer to Jesus Christ. As I have tried to serve as the Savior served, humbly loving and validating while listening and being vulnerable myself, it has helped so much as I attempt to help others walk back to God and His Son.
