When I was a child there was a popular Baseball novel. It was titled “The Kid Who Batted A Thousand”. In thestory there was a baseball player who never struck out. He had a hit every time he came up to bat. He became known as “The Kid Who Batted A Thousand. He had a 1.000 batting average.

If you know anything about Baseball, then you know a .300 batting average is a very good average. A 1.000 batting average would be perfection, flawless. That was the problem in the story. By the end of the novel, the fans express hatred for “the kid who batted a thousand. The fans grow to hate this perfect player because people are bored by what we call “perfection”.

Imagine! If you experienced continual perfection life would be boring. I think about that when people apply categories of “perfection” to subjects like God, Heaven, and Ethics.

Perfection might not look like we think it looks. If it looked like we imagine it, then it would be boring.

Perfection, as we picture it, would make God, Heaven, and human Ethics simply boring. We would get sick of living in continual perfection 24/7 for eternity. Maybe, in this life, we need imperfection. Maybe we need flaws and mistakes.

The Amish make quilts. A little known fact about Amish quilts is that there is always an intentional flaw somewhere in each authentic Amish quilt. I wonder if the Amish are telling us that perfection, as we define it, is boring.

This leaves us with some thoughts to ponder:

Maybe “perfection”, as God defines it, is vastly different from our own definitions of perfection. Perhaps genuine perfection is different than we think it is. It is probable that we have never really experienced perfection. Therefore, we really have no idea what it would be like or look like.

It is interesting that we can make so many assumptions about something that we have never seen or experienced. We think we know things about perfection, absolutes, and eternity when we have no capacity for understanding these things with our limited, finite perceptions.

Is it possible that our imperfect grasp of perfection could open us to being truly surprised? Might we be completely surprised in this life and the next?

Why do we feel pressure to pretend we know what we will never know in this life? What would your life be like if you had permission to stop pretending?

The world, and the Church, would be better places if we realized God’s grace is also given to those who stop pretending so much.

Have a glorious summer, with all of its splendid imperfection!

Pastor Larry