Jesus Wasn't a Perfectionist

I wear my perfectionism like a white ink tattoo on the inside of my wrist.  If you're looking for it, it is definitely visible. The slightly inflamed lettering flashes into view in certain circumstances, but for the most part the inconspicuous location and natural camouflage don't draw attention to the defining art work. It peaks out more abundantly in some situations. Such occasions as when I scrub the kitchen sink with a toothbrush or when I am scrap booking. But then it retreats and stays hidden from the general public on the safe inside of my right wrist where it won't make a mockery of the girl it has always been attached to. There are days that is seems as if I've outlined the tattoo in glitter eyeliner because my perfectionism is so forthright and painfully obvious. In those moments I often reflect on why I have such a strong desire to cling to an unattainable standard of performance.

I have spent the majority of my life allowing perfectionism to cripple my talents and abilities because I am afraid to do anything in the eyesight of others that could be rated as anything less than five stars. I stopped playing volleyball in high school because I deemed myself not athletic enough. I refused to play the piano at church because I would miss a note here or there and knew that my imperfect performance would simultaneously draw too much negative attention to myself and detract from the spirit of the Sabbath. I didn't audition for music groups in college because clearly my lack of perfect pitch made me unfit for musical performance, though my years of high school experience spoke far greater of my musical capabilities. I never entered any writing scholarship competitions in college because I figured it was a waste of the judge's time to even read my losing piece of work. I even spent two years talking myself out of serving a mission because I knew my talents and capabilities would never classify me as the stereotypical sister missionary. Time and time again I decided that others would judge me before I gave them the opportunity to. 

I often justify my behavior by believing that Jesus was perfect, therefore I should strive for that as well. In fact I was told regularly as a child through Sunday School songs, teacher's words, my parents expectations, and Christian culture at large that I should strive to be like my perfect brother Jesus.  WWJD was more than the embroidery on a fad bracelet that covered my tattoo; it was, and continues to be, the driving force behind many of my actions. 

Here's the thing though, Jesus wasn't a perfectionist.

per·fec·tion·ist: a person who refuses to accept any standard less than perfection.


He was definitely perfect.

per·fect: having all the required or desirable elements, qualities, or characteristics; as good as it is possible to be.


But never was he a perfectionist.  

Jesus spent his entire life surrounded by some of Heavenly Father's most imperfect children, yet he loved them all.  Further, he came to Earth with the single goal of bringing to fruition His father's goal, "to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man" through his selfless sacrifice (Moses 1:39). We were commanded to be perfect, but we were never commanded to be perfectionists.  Being perfect includes helping our fellow men, loving God above ourselves, and not killing people.  Being perfect doesn't require that we pin every hair perfectly in place on our heads or that we spend over 20 hours on a 10th grade literature project that only required an hour or 2 of labor (I may or may not be speaking from personal experience...). 

Being perfect requires relying on Heavenly Father and Christ; there is simply no way to do it alone.  That is where perfectionist ideology completely dies.  A perfectionist will do all that is required of her without the assistance of anyone or anything. We are told, "Yea, come unto Christ, and be perfected in him, and deny yourselves of all ungodliness; and if ye shall deny yourselves of all ungodliness, and love God with all your might, mind and strength, then is his grace sufficient for you, that by his grace ye may be perfect in Christ;...that ye become holy, without spot." (Moroni 10:32-33).

Through the flawless and redeeming act of Christ's suffering in Gethsemane and crucifixion on the cross, we may all be made perfect in him.  His grace will be sufficient to make us clean, whole, and perfect. No amount of intelligence, skill, practice, or exertion can compensate for the grace of God through Christ's atonement. I will never be a perfect pianist, singer, sister, missionary, culinary artist, friend, or athlete, but neither will anyone else. I can become a perfect daughter of God though, and that is all my father has ever expected of me.