A primer for perfectionists.
The statement by Jesus, “be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect,” (Matthew 5:48) can sometimes cause anxiety among Christians.
I know it did for me for a long time.
I would strive to do the right thing, to be that perfect person which i believed Christ wants me to be.
And I would fail.
I am not talking so much about moral imperfections (which is something to be expected) and which somehow, through the sacrament of Confession etc, can be handled.
But these are what I would term “human imperfections”, i.e. the failings of everyday life due to upbringing, genetics, the environment (or a combination of all three): you are clumsy, anxious, not very fit physically, have a sensitive personality type, not so well-educated and articulate, etc.
I would beat myself up over this and go into extended periods of guilt, sadness and self-pity.
Until I meditated on a tool chest, and saw St. Paul’s teaching on the mystical body in a new light.
And also listened to St. Thomas Aquinas’ teaching on the Resurrection of the Body, shared by Sr Helena Burns.
A perfect hammer is one which is able to fulfill its purpose. Should a hammer “feel guilty’ because it is unable to cut or unscrew something?
That would be absurd. We have other tools in the toolbox designed for that, i.e. a saw and a screwdriver. If the hammer strives to be the best hammer it can be, it is already perfect. It can leave the other functions to the other tools.
When St. Paul teaches that “the eye cannot say to the hand, “I don’t need you!” And the head cannot say to the feet, “I don’t need you!” (1 Cor. 12:21) and that “you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is a part of it” (1 Cor 12:27), he was careful to differentiate between the different functions of the same body.
While it is true that if one part of the body malfunctions, the entire person will suffer, it will nevertheless be counterproductive if the eye for instance, were to start feeling guilty because the nose is malfunctioning and he is only able to see, and not to smell. Instead, to be truly helpful, the eye could perhaps reach out to the One who created the nose for help, rather than feel personally guilty.
Moreover, perhaps in this life, human (as opposed to moral) imperfections are to be expected and embraced. St. Thomas Aquinas (supplementum tertia pars qn 75-85) teaches that when we receive new bodies at the Resurrection, there would be four specific characteristics:
- impassibility (i.e. immunity to suffering)
- agility (freedom from weakness)
- subtility (subjection of the body to the soul)
- brightness (outwards radiance in proportion to the degree of inward holiness)
St. Thomas got the idea from studying the body of Christ Himself. (see John 20:26-28, CCC 999, 1017)
I was particularly struck by the four qualities of the Resurrected body: except for the fourth characteristic (brightness), the first three addressed human as opposed to moral weaknesses.
For a person often frustrated by my own clumsiness and absent-mindedness, it was a liberating moment of grace.
I realized that when I strive to be less clumsy and more present-minded, i am anticipating what my body would be at the Resurrection.
At the same time, i recognized that perhaps in this life, these two human weaknesses would be part of my personality, which can be fully corrected only at the end of time.
I can imitate Christ and love others in a human way, as Christ did, but only in His humanity and not in His divinity.
The call to “be perfect” is now no longer a burden, but a call to a deep recognition of one’s strengths and weaknesses, to strive with the grace of God to correct them, and finally to rest in the Lord’s love, that at the end of time, all will be corrected, that we are partakers in the divine nature only by grace. (2 Peter 1:4)
“God became man, so that man could become God,” St. Athanasius teaches.
What a relief to know that we are not gods by nature. That we need only to open our hearts to grace.
Come Lord Jesus. Maranatha.
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