Perfection

We’re all called to grow in holiness; it is a life-long challenge. I am; you are. I got a late start on this challenge, and sometimes I wonder if I will ever catch up, to in some way make up for all the opportunities I missed to grow. I don’t necessarily want to be the most holy person in the world – it is not a race in that manner – but I do want to be as holy as I should be, and you should too. And therein sometimes lay the problem. How much is enough?

I’ve read other blogger's writings on their struggles. Some seem to obsess about finding and doing God’s will. That almost seems like an “of course” to me; we will try all our life, but there’s no need to obsess about it, just commit to it. Others seem to focus on their past sins, and/or current trials and temptations. But if you believe all this is worthwhile then you believe in what Jesus said, and he said there is forgiveness if we repent and confess. So do it, and try to forget your past sins; he said he would. I think, in summary, all of these people are trying to reach, and worrying about, a level of perfection. And so am I.

At the low points of my self-worth, I am on my knees begging for forgiveness for sins, present and past; I lament over wasted time. At my high points I receive consolations from God, the little pats on the back that seem to say I am doing SOMETHING right, and even knowing I did something right is better than the nothing I often feel I accomplish. (You are doing something right by even reading and thinking on these words.) It always seems to be such a struggle, to be perfect “even as my heavenly Father is perfect.” He gave us an example, but it’s so hard to follow, and to know that we are making progress, growing in holiness. On days when I have troubles, or on days in which I can’t seem to be of any use to others’ troubles, I reflect often on WWJD, and I pray “Make me an instrument of thy peace.” All the while, I strive, for myself, to know that my life has meaning.

I’m not sure I could be a cloistered contemplative monk, even though I’ve sometimes thought that would be a good thing – at least cloistered I would be away from SOME of my sins. Praying to God in the quiet, alone, would definitely bring joy to my soul, but never having those consolations from God, via others, would leave me desolate. I need those “highs”. I’m not sure, as a man, I will ever be confident enough of my value to want to be alone with God, even if he would want me to be. I know this means, in a way, that the value I place on my life is higher than perhaps the one He does – even if I am very confident of my value in His eyes, of the love in his eyes, I’ll never feel that I am good enough for his standards. In effect, I’ll challenge him because I feel he is wrong: I am not worthy. And would such a soul be fit to be alone with him? Would not one who could be more unconditionally loving be a better one for that blessed life? It’s a life I know I would deeply desire, but it’s a life I fear would lead to a self-loathing. How can I love and respect someone so much, that I don’t want to be alone with them? Perfection is a hard thing to contemplate.

I think on this tonight, and think perhaps my concerns are a good thing. On earth, I believe I fear no man, even one who might end my life. Arrogant, I believe I could withstand any man’s scrutiny, and ignore or challenge any criticism. Is not my fear of God thus a good thing, because he is the ONLY being I fear? For as many beings as I really DID fail in this life, and they are sadly numerous, still I trust in God’s forgiveness of those wrongs, yet strangely they are in some way a part of why I find it hard to trust him. He has seen those wrongs! He knows me like none of these others. How can he still love me? I don’t understand. How could I even be alone with him and not skulk out the door, or melt into the floor in shame? How could I not be perfect in the presence of perfection?

He tells me that with him anything is possible but I, in my imperfection, find that hard to believe. I think I know me. Perhaps then, this is the final point to be cleaned in my soul, perhaps any honest man’s soul: knowing and accepting that Christ can make even me, EVEN ME, perfect in his eyes, and accepting of my knowledge of his forgiveness as the ultimate criterion of perfection, not my knowledge of my sin. It is a difficult thing to even try to achieve, this growing in holiness, this attempt at perfection.

It is so very hard, but I try to truly say: My Jesus, I trust in You.

“Oh my Jesus, forgive us our sins. Save us from the fires of hell, and lead all souls to heaven, especially those most in need of thy mercy.” With every rosary, I say this prayer. It has deep meaning for me.

As I concluded these thoughts and writings in front of the Blessed Sacrament tonight, I read the following words:
Now that we have been justified by faith, let us be at peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ.
- Antiphon to the Canticle of Mary, Evening Prayer I, Third Sunday of Lent

Praise be to God, now and forever! My thoughts and feelings tonight were true: I am not worthy. But, as just reminded, I must never forget He came to earth to make us worthy!! So that we can “be at peace with God through Our Lord Jesus Christ.”

If YOU have forgotten, my friends, I now remind you: There is no sin, no failure on your part, that God through his Son cannot make right. He came to forgive our sins – ALL of them! He IS the pathway to holiness, to our ultimate perfection. Just by wanting to, you are starting the walk with him, you are starting to grow in holiness. Confess then forget your past sins; ask to know his will, then hold out your hand to him and go forward in trust. If he can find a lost someone like me, surely he can find you. Come, let us walk together with Him. The journey may be long and hard, but I promise you we will find joy along the way.

Father, when we are discouraged by our weakness, give us confidence in your love.
- concluding Evening Prayer

P.S. As I’m typing out this meditation, mom and I are watching the movie Pollyanna on television. She just told the preacher who was practicing his fire and brimstone speech: “You know, there are 800 “glad” sections in the bible, where God told the people to find joy, and to be happy. If he told us 800 times, he must surely have thought it important.” I think that’s a fitting conclusion to these thoughts. I hope you have a happy and joyous day.