Bishop Bob Davis |
I was given to read the blog post below because I have served as a Bishop. It touched me profoundly because I can easily relate to this Bishop's experiences. In fact, I have many of these thoughts now as I sit in front of people as a therapist.
By sharing this article, it will give you a glimpse into this singular experience as well what I often think of as I sit in front of people in 2013. It's the real deal.
Confessions
of a Mormon Bishop
by RUSS HILL on MARCH 19, 2013
I pulled into my driveway at 12:30 this morning.
I sat in the car in front
of our dark house for a few minutes. Everyone inside was asleep.
The whole neighborhood was still. And yet my mind was racing.
So many questions. So many emotions. Sadness. Hope.
Inadequacy.
Welcome to the life of a
Mormon bishop.
Like pastors, priests, and clergy in other religions, those of
us asked to serve as a bishop in The
Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints spend hours behind closed doors meeting
with people who allow us into the darkest corners of their lives.
They come to us for
various reasons. Because of guilt. Because they have lost hope.
Because they have been betrayed. Because they don’t know where else
to go. Because they feel worthless. Because the person they are
isn’t the person they want to be. Because they have questions.
Because they have doubts. Because they believe in a forgiving God
yet feel disconnected from Him.
They come and sit in
front of me. Some hesitate. Take a deep breath. And
grasp for courage to say out loud what they have been hiding inside for days,
weeks, or years.
Others almost run in.
They spill before I sit. They’re anxious to clear their conscience
or announce their doubts.
Each one is different.
For hours every week I
sit. And listen.
I did not ask for this
opportunity. I never considered I might someday have an office in a
church. I have no professional training for this position. I am not
a scriptural scholar. I have not walked through vineyards with
robe-wearing monks. And, if you’re wondering about vows of celibacy let
me introduce you to my four kids.
All I did was answer a
phone call. Show up for a meeting. And nod when asked if I would
serve.
I don’t sometimes wonder
why me. I always wonder why me.
And yet they come.
Share their stories. And look to me for wisdom.
I’m not sure any of them
have learned from me. But, I have learned so much in the hours I’ve sat
in that office listening to them.
I have learned that we
believe it is a strength to conceal weakness.
I have learned that it is
easy to want others to overlook our flaws as we expect perfection in them.
I have learned that it is
hardest to show compassion and grant forgiveness to those closest to us.
I have learned that while
curiosity is a strength it can also be a curse.
I have learned that we
are creatures of habit.
I have learned that faith
is a muscle.
I have learned that it is
far easier to deny deity than to deny desire.
I have learned the
mystery surrounding death forces a consideration of spiritual matters.
I have learned that
observance of the Sabbath recalibrates perspective and improves judgment.
I have learned that most
of us bear scars from the failure, disappointment, and fear in our lives.
And, we prefer to wear long sleeves.
I have learned that to
deal with life’s pain most of us choose one of the following: alcohol, drugs,
pornography, or spirituality.
I have learned alcohol
and drugs are the easiest path. As long as you’re willing to never stop
drinking, smoking, or swallowing.
I have learned
pornography is highly addictive and has nothing to do with
sexual appetites and everything to do with escape. And that the
habit is never overcome in isolation.
I have learned that we
feel like a failure when we make mistakes even when we profess a belief that
the purpose of this existence is to make and learn from them.
I have learned that
forgiveness is the greatest gift we can offer someone. And ourselves.
I have learned that many
know about Jesus Christ but more of us could make an effort to know Him.
I have learned that the
strongest among us are those with the cleanest mirrors.
I have learned that the
sins of parents profoundly affect children. And are often repeated by
them.
I have learned that
affection from parents profoundly affects children.
I have learned that most communication between parents and
children is what psychologists call “superficial.” Strong relationships
are built on the “validating” variety.
I have learned that
children desperately desire parents who listen.
I have learned that
churches are not museums or catwalks for perfected saints but rather labs for
sinners.
I have learned that
“tolerate” and “love” are two very different verbs despite what popular culture
professes.
I have learned that
there’s more sadness in this world than I had realized.
I have learned there is
more goodness in this world than I had realized.
I have learned that to be
happy is a choice.
I have learned those
preoccupied with serving others have less time to count their problems.
I have learned that a
habit of one brief moment of spirituality a day can alter one’s entire
direction.
I have learned that we
want God to grant us space to make decisions but step in to stop others,
nature, mortality, or illness from hurting us or those we love.
I have learned those who
have made more mistakes have a great gift. Empathy. Now to the
matter of searching out someone who hungers for it.
Indeed, I have learned I
have much to learn.
The names of those I meet
with will never be known. Confidentiality demands I never disclose their
stories.
But, late last night as I
sat in my car on the driveway I decided I should compile a list of what the
people I meet with are teaching me.
And, I wanted to share
it.
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