I was a Mormon Bishop

I was a Mormon Bishop

I was a Mormon bishop.  Twice.  I first served in Los Alamos, New Mexico, then again in Binghamton, New York.  I did not ask to serve as a bishop either time.  You see, bishops are not elected and there is no committee that does a search for a bishop.  A stake president, a man who presides over several wards in a geographical area identifies a person to be called as a bishop.  Bill Rogers, a friend of mine, asked me once if I knew how bishops were chosen.  He told me that the stake president looks for the most spiritual person in a congregation then calls her husband to be the bishop.

The only training I received to serve as a bishop came from watching other bishops as a member of their congregations.  There was no inside track to becoming a bishop.  There was no formal education, no theological seminary.  Instead, there were years of service as a teacher of young children, Boy Scout leader, and missionary for the Church as well as time devoted to scripture study and to caring for my family. 

A Mormon bishop serves as an unpaid pastor or minister to his congregation.  A congregation, called a ward, is generally composed of at least 300 members and as many as 600 to 700 members.  The bishop fills many of the same roles that a paid minister does for his or her congregation.  The principal difference is that bishops are not responsible for delivering weekly sermons.  However, bishops are expected to address their congregations from time to time.  As a bishop I’ve performed weddings and presided over and spoke at funerals.  I’ve visited Church members in their homes and at church, often listening to members who were troubled with some matter that had occurred in their lives.  I attended baptisms and presided over various meetings of the Church.  Bishops also have a special responsibility to provide care for the poor, needy, and elderly in his ward.  I kept track of the time that I spent in my calling as bishop and it ranged from 20 to 30 hours a week.  That was on top of my full-time job and at one point while I was going to graduate school. 

A Mormon bishop has a lot of help in filling his responsibilities.  Any bishop who tries to do it all doesn’t really understand his calling.  My help first came in the form of counselors, two at a time.  Bob Judd and Ken Fellers were my first two counselors and I will ever be grateful to them for the direction they frequently provided me and for their willingness to assume responsibilities that allowed me to focus my attention on the spiritual matters of my calling as a bishop and to spend as much time as I could with the youth of my ward.  They were followed by other men who were equally dedicated.  Richard Mason, Rulon Linford, and Max Baker in Los Alamos and Matt Haney and Joseph Cronin in Binghamton literally gave all they had to give to help me.

I frequently relied on the insight of women to help me in my calling as a bishop.  These faithful women served as presidents of the women’s organization (the Relief Society is the oldest and largest women’s organization in the world), young women’s leaders, and primary (children’s organization) leaders.  Had it not been for them I would have been running off in meaningless directions on multiple occasions.  I will always be grateful for women like Rita Spencer, Joan Jackson, Sandy Jennings, Marcia Boyack, Nadine Hogan, and many other women leaders who dutifully cared for women, young women and children in both wards where I served as bishop. 

The most important woman in my calling as bishop was my wife, Susan.  She often had insight into things that I knew nothing about and she frequently (and carefully) counseled me.  I should note that as a bishop I held information shared with me by ward members in the strictest confidence.  It just could not work any other way.

I learned lots of important lessons as a bishop.  There is a passage in The Book of Mormon where a prophet by the name of Alma has taught and baptized several people.  As he taught them he told them of the true meaning of membership in Christ’s Church and explained to them the covenant that they make when entering the waters of baptism.  In part, he said, “and now, as ye are desirous to come into the fold of God, and to be called his people, and are willing to bear one another's burdens, that they may be light; Yea, and are willing to mourn with those that mourn; yea, and comfort those that stand in need of comfort, and to stand as witnesses of God at all times and in all things, and in all places that ye may be in, even until death,” (Mosiah 18:8 - 9)….  It was during my time as bishop that I learned to bear others’ burdens, and to mourn with those that mourn, and to comfort those that stand in need of comfort.  That may sound demanding, and it was (and I fear that I was not very good at it) but on the other hand, Alma’s son whose name was also Alma explained the other half of service when he said, “Yea, and again I say unto you, my son, that on the other hand, there can be nothing so exquisite and sweet as was my joy” (Alma 36:21).

Within a few weeks of being called as a bishop the first time I asked myself just exactly what it was that I had gotten myself into.  I had no idea of the magnitude of the responsibilities and effort that was required to be a bishop.  But, when my tenure as bishop came to an end, I wept like a baby.  I wept the second time I was called as a bishop because I already knew what I was getting myself into, and I also knew the feeling I would experience at the end of that tenure as well.

Not every man in the Church has the blessing of serving as a bishop, and it is indeed a blessing.  You see, I was a Mormon bishop.  Twice.