“Your grace
still amazes me;
Your love is
still a mystery. Each day, I fall on my knees,
’Cause Your grace still amazes me!”
I just found out that I’m a perfectionist.
A few months ago, when someone called me a
perfectionist, I remember thinking, I am
not! Sure, I may have planned each semester of my college classes before I
started my senior year of high school (I think I’m working off the seventh
revision now), I may read texts and emails over and over before I send them
just to make sure the wording, punctuation, etc., convey my exact meaning, but
a perfectionist? Definitely not!
But now I’m starting to realize just how much perfectionism
permeates, and often controls, major areas of my life. I actually caught myself
seriously considering not finishing this post because I knew I couldn’t make it
“as perfect as it should be.”
One area of perfectionism for me is definitely
incorrect punctuation in textbooks and other printed material – it seriously stresses me out! But I’m
sure only an English major considers punctuation a major area of life, so I’ll
move on.
In all seriousness, though, one big area where
perfectionism grips my heart is my haunting fear of failure. I hate making
mistakes, especially in front of other people, and I hate myself when I make
them. Too often, I structure my life to avoid things I know I’m not good at – to avoid failing. Maybe that’s why
I’ve avoided sports and even evangelism, and why I generally prefer writing to
talking (since only writing can be proofread to eradicate errors). I guess my
dread of failure is pretty deeply rooted in pride. After all, making mistakes
is part of being human; admitting them, however, is part of being humble – and an important part, I think.
But even more serious than a nearly debilitating
dread of failure is another major area where perfectionism has taken firm hold
on my life: a kind of spiritual perfectionism, or legalism relating to
sanctification.
When I recognize something wrong in my life, some
sin, wrong attitude, or distorted perspective hindering my relationship with
God, my typical solution is clearly identifying the problem, determining a
solution, and firmly resolving to implement my plan.
Did you notice something missing? Yes – the enabling
power of the Spirit.
Of course, my spiritual perfectionism isn’t quite so
blatant. There’s usually a confession of failure and a plea for forgiveness and
even of help, but for all practical purposes, it’s me trying to fix myself.
That’s what makes it legalism – me, in my own strength, trying to keep my own
plan or rules in order to please God. Maybe not quite as blatant but all the
more subtle and ensnaring because it masquerades so convincingly in my heart as
true spirituality.
This spiritual perfectionism causes me, in effect,
to live a revision of the Bible, a revision that changes verses like “I can do
all things through Christ” to “I can do all things” and cuts out “For it is God
who works in you,” leaving only the burden of “Work out your own salvation.”
“Having begun by
the Spirit, [am I] now being perfected by the flesh?” All the times my plans and resolve have failed me
should have been answer enough all along.
I consider this kind of perfectionism more serious
because it undermines the gospel itself – the gospel that called me when I
could do nothing to save myself and
crowns me, astoundingly, as the freely forgiven child of the King of grace.
And all this time I’ve professed utter disgust with
systems that force people to keep certain rules or fulfill arbitrary
expectations in order to climb a ladder to spiritual success. It’s funny how
easy it is to despise in others what I’m blind to or unwilling to see in my own
heart.
But that’s hypocrisy.
Hypocrisy on top of legalistic sanctification on top
of perfectionistic pride on top of all my other sins and failings. Obviously,
perfection isn’t even a remote possibility. And thankfully, it’s not supposed
to be. Because that’s where grace comes in: “Where
sin runs deep, Your grace is more; Where grace is found is where You are! And
where You are, Lord, I am free – Holiness is Christ in me!”
Well, all this was a pretty startling revelation for
one day. Honestly, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do next, but I’m grateful
I don’t have to come up with a plan or more willpower. What I need is to be
still amazed by Grace, the Grace that sought me out and now promises to
complete the work begun in me – in spite of my failings. I can rest in the fact
that God’s unmistakable hand has guided me to this point and will carry me the
rest of the way. For “’Tis Grace that
brought me safe thus far, and Grace will lead me home!”
