Isn’t it true that we learn and grow more by making mistakes than by being perfect from the start? Of course, if we really are perfect from the start, great! Let’s think back to our days at school as children.

Perhaps we excelled at a particular subject, like math (which I most certainly did not). How wonderful if we had a gift or through our passion, discipline, and hard work, we could master a lesson and ace exams. I must admit, as a teacher, I did appreciate those students who had such gifts and made my life easy when it came to grading tests or correcting papers.

But I must admit, I enjoyed even more the students who struggled, or took intellectual and creative risks, or who made really poor choices and then turned things around. I loved when I saw the lightbulb go on and a student’s eyes lit up in a moment of sudden insight or recognition, and they surprised everyone with a fresh idea, a new solution to an unconventional problem. It was especially satisfying when no one else thought that they had it in them.

Of course, it is always a tricky thing to extrapolate from our own experience and, by analogy or comparison, assume that the same could be the case with Jesus. But in this case, the evidence throughout the Gospels is that Jesus has a particular fondness for the rascals, the ne’er do wells, the public sinners… the perfectly imperfect. And some might wonder, “well, yes, but they repented, so isn’t that the point?” In fact, they did repent. But first, Jesus loved them as they were. Their repentance was a response to the loving acceptance that they received from Jesus when he recognized them for who they were, when they felt beheld with dignity and affection, and suddenly experienced a sense that they could surrender whatever was holding them back from becoming more.

This is the paradox of Jesus meeting Zaccheus, and nearly every other person in the Gospels… that he saw in each person the potential for goodness, generosity, wisdom, and a calling to service. His love made this bias for possibility, well, possible. In every encounter, not just in general, Jesus believed in people to be able to rise to the expectation he had for them, including that perfectly imperfect group who become his disciples.

Not everyone did. We know that many Pharisees and Scribes wanted the security of their perfection, their strict observance of the Law, more than they wanted to be changed by Jesus’ love. And there were others more attached to their power, prestige, and possessions that they were interested in something even greater or more precious.

But many, like Zaccheus, saw the error of their ways, and in the great margin of Jesus’ love, perceived the possibility of being better people, of surrendering the limited and less satisfying ways in which they were getting their needs met, and instead of opening up to loving and being loved.

So what does all this have to do with us as leaders? Just recently in a session, we were exploring with our participants how their assumptions and biases about their employee-colleagues shape their management style toward them, and then create exactly the behaviors that they expect to see. Lots of social science research has been dedicated to understanding how a negative view of people, their motivations, their trustworthiness, etc, actually creates the conditions whereby employees behave according to these poor expectations. And perhaps more importantly, when leaders and managers have positive regard and high expectations for the capabilities of their employees and invest their employees with trust, that they in fact do tend to meet those expectations and merit the trust they’re given.

Likewise, when, in our leadership roles, we perceive a person’s willingness and capacity to learn from mistakes, reform their lives, and become a better version of themselves, we are creating the space and the conditions to do just that. We know this to be true from our own experience, don’t we, when someone loved us in a moment of our own unworthiness, our mistakes or failures, and gave us the margin to do and be better? How could we do otherwise for the people we serve in our roles of service and responsibility?

With you on the road,