Welcome to “Tuesday Mornings,” one among many sources of encouragement for Christians everywhere.

 

“It’s not a perfect world.” Agreed. “Nobody’s perfect.” Ditto. Those two statements are absolutes, right? Wrong. But we accept them as if they were direct quotes from scripture—which they aren’t. Good thing, too. We use “perfect” to describe many things that are special in life. When a baseball pitcher throws to a minimum of 27 batters in nine innings, with no hits, no walks, and no batter reaching base, we call that a “perfect game.” But does that mean the pitcher threw only strikes to each and every batter? Nope. The pitcher could end up throwing more balls than strikes and still be credited with a perfect game.

 

The word “perfect" describes a pristine fall day in New England; 20/20 vision; a first date that went off without a problem; a PSA under .5; body temperature of 98.6; a major airline with “on time” arrivals all day long; 100 per cent of almost anything; passing an annual physical with flying colors; an ACT score of 36. So much for “perfect” being an absolute.

 

“Perfect” is a perfectly acceptable adjective except when it comes to religion. Then we tend to become very careful to reserve the term “perfect” to things divine. Love is “perfect” when God does it. Atonement is “perfect” when Jesus is the subject. Heaven is “perfect” because it is so much more wonderful than humans can even imagine. But “Christian Perfection?” Wesley must have been mistaken. Nobody’s perfect. So let’s just remove it from our theological lexicon. Right? Wrong.

 

“Perfect” and words that flow from it (“perfection,” “perfecting,” “perfecter”) appear more than three dozen times in the New Testament alone. And these are not all references describing God. Jesus said to the rich young man, “If you want to be perfect, go, sell your possessions and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.” (Matthew 19:21) In 2 Corinthians 12 Paul wrote, “But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness’…That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”

 

You may have already guessed what the title of this week’s epistle is—“Perfection.” Read on whenever you are ready. Then be prepared for a superlative week.

 

Tom Barnard

An imperfect pilgrim following in the steps of  the Perfect One

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Perfection

Tom Barnard

 

have heard that some religious groups have decided to eradicate the word “perfection” from their glossary of theological terms. The next thing you know, churches will stop using all theological terms that need to be explained to people under the age of 20. Will paraphrases of the Bible soon be the standard of biblical accuracy as opposed to scholarly translations from the best biblical texts available?

 

Actually, I favor the term “perfection,” as well as supporting synonyms—perfect, complete, total, flawless, faultless, impeccable, consummate, whole, pure, undiluted, unmixed, excellent, and unique (all dictionary definitions for perfection). One could say that perfection means “lacking nothing essential to the whole.”

 

I use “perfect” to describe many things in my life, and especially in my preferences. I want my clothing to be perfectly clean when I dress; I like bed sheets that are free from things that bite in the night; I prefer socks that are lint-free; I expect my surgeon to be perfectly rested when surgery begins; I insist that the gasoline I buy for my car be absolutely free of water, dirt, and controllable pollutants; I refuse to read the editorial pages of newspapers known for their biased views on things that really matter to me; I demand that politicians be truthful—not just when it’s politically expedient; I demand that my drinking water be pure; I expect that my timepiece will maintain perfect accuracy to the minute, not the hour; I expect that people who prepare food for me have thoroughly cleaned their hands before touching my food; I expect my dental hygienist to wear a protective mask when breathing into my face; I demand that needles used to draw blood from my vein be perfectly clean and unused; I expect the sun will rise and set at absolutely predictable times each day, not just anytime it decides it is time to do so.

 

Have you ever heard of a car manufacturer that says their braking system is guaranteed to work only on dry pavement? Or that newly-installed parts are guaranteed for only 30 minutes after leaving their service department? Or motor-oil that is guaranteed to work for 24 hours or 90 miles, whichever comes first? Or how about a tire manufacturer that offers a 100-mile warranty on its tires? Or paper towels that pick up 10 percent of the fluids from a table? Or mouthwash that is guaranteed to eliminate 15 percent of the bacteria in your mouth? Or a hotel elevator that is certified to carry up to 200 total pounds? Or air filters for your home that are made to filter out .08 percent of the pollutants in the air?

 

You wouldn’t waste your money or time on such guarantees. Why should the church expect to meet only a fraction of the public’s demands for truth, honesty, integrity, and openness in what it has to offer? Why should our theology undergo change every ten years or so in order to be more relevant to visitors who attend church? Why can’t we teach and preach total commitment, a disciplined life, and a spirit of devotion to the Savior who died that we might be set free from our bondage to sin? Why can’t we measure up to the expectations church members have to hear “the whole counsel of God” in our teaching and preaching?

 

The world demands greater accountability than the church does. Society expects total integrity from its school teachers; restaurant goers expect restaurants to abide by EPA and USDA-approved standards; we expect pharmaceuticals to produce pure products and label their products with absolute accuracy. On the other hand, some churches seem to be looking for ways to avoid biblical teachings that require obedience and sacrifice and commitment. Maybe it’s time to return to the Scriptures that were clear enough to our forefathers, like this one: “Therefore you shall be perfect, just as your Father in heaven is perfect.” (Matthew 5:48 NKJV) Not above average, or almost. But the real deal. Perfect.

 

Let’s not eradicate teachings just because they need to be explained. After all, that is why there are seminaries and Bible colleges—to train teachers and preachers how to “rightly divide the word of truth.”