The Pursuit of Perfection
I’m becoming convinced that most of us are obsessed with perfection. Not in the sense that most of us are perfectionists by personality — we aren’t — but in the sense that we all feel something out of place, something imperfect in our lives, in our world, in human existence itself, and are always looking for that “one thing” that will make us better. For most of us, that longing is a subtle longing, beneath the surface and mostly pointed at our own hearts more than toward the more philosophical pursuit of pondering mankind’s existence, but I think it’s a powerful force in all of us. It’s a longing for the infinite, a hunger for beauty, meaning, and purpose that we know deep down we can’t quite attain to. We are not enough, yet we long to be so much more.
This longing in and of itself is true, and I dare say good, even put there by God himself. What is curious and almost always dysfunctional is in how we seek to fill that void — the blank space that only the infinite, only “perfection,” if you will, can fill. For so many of us, that “seeking” is built around finding “that one thing.” Whether we ever actually say this or not, we tend think that some particular thing will fix us or make our brokenness better somehow. For many, that “thing” looks like power, money, substances, or sex in some form. People that chase such things with any level of commitment are usually pretty obvious to the rest of us, and we often shake our heads at folks who are clearly greedy, power-hungry, relationally needy, or abuse substances, proud to be amongst the well-adjusted population who are not so desperate. But don’t we all do the same thing on a lesser scale?
For people like me, my “answer” to the infinite is often over-spiritualized: this one book will change my life and make everything make sense; this one conference will be so powerful that I will never doubt again; this one retreat will make my marriage all better; this mission trip/internship/Bible school will transform me into a totally different person… and on and on the list goes. I don’t know what your thing is that you think is going to make you “all better,” but if you’re tired of this never-ending hamster wheel of broken promises, whether it’s from “good things” or destructive things… here’s the truth: nothing is going to fix you. Nothing is going to make it all better. Nothing is going to enable you, ultimately, to hide from you.
Let me explain why that’s good news. First of all, you can change, and you can get better, and you can become more healthy and strengthen your character. That fact alone should bring you hope and joy. You’re not stuck where you are. But let’s abandon once and for all this idea that to be human is not to be intrinsically flawed. When we spend our time pursuing “perfection”… the perfect marriage, the perfect job, the perfect character, perfect motives, perfect work ethic, perfect doctrine, perfect understanding of God/Scripture/psychology/politics/economics/social justice… we run the risk of missing the point of life entirely — and really becoming very unpleasant people. God’s vision for our life is not perfection. He put “eternity into our hearts” on purpose- so that we would long for a day when we are completely made new and restored to humanity in a new, radiant, “perfect” world.
But to follow Jesus is not to pursue perfection, or sinlessness, or however you want to say it. That is a never-ending chasing after the wind… and it’s exhausting. I know because I’ve lived it. What if God has invited us on this journey to “follow” Christ (sound familiar?), to love him with all of hearts, but in the midst of that loving, that following, to be human… and to do it quite imperfectly? What if the goal never was, nor should be, to finally get to a point where “it all makes sense,” where there’s no more tension or unexplained places in our faith, when we have perfect motives and doctrine and never mess up or let anyone down? What if it’s okay to have serious doubts about faith? What if in our imperfection, failure, and sin we learn to be people of mercy?
Books won’t fix you. Conferences won’t fix you. As much as they try to make you believe it, Christian colleges and internships and mission trips won’t fix you. They can’t and won’t ultimately settle the deep restlessness that’s in your heart. When we let go of trying to find “that one thing” that will magically fix the brokenness inside of us, the irony is that we begin to come alive. When we find joy and peace in our brokenness, receiving God’s mercy (because we know we need it) and extending it generously and radically to others, we come alive. It’s only in deep awareness of our own brokenness that we can ever begin to be transformed.
