How Sunday Church is Like a Computer Systems Operation from the 1990s

When I was a new college graduate, I got a dream job of working as a staffer for the U.S. House of Representatives. My duties included answering phones, writing letters to constituents, and researching agriculture issues.

After a while, I was promoted to office manager. This mostly meant that I kept up with ordering the toner for the fax machine and printer, and calling the tech support line when one of the computers or phones went down. So glamorous.

Back in those days, computers were quite a bit slower. (I mean, the internet was new enough that there were no youtube videos, just randomly emailed viral videos like the very creepy Dancing Baby.)

When a computer in the office got unbearably slow, sometimes my duties involved performing a “defrag,” or defragmentation on it. I’d go to the control panel and run the system defrag, which took all the little bits of scattered data throughout the system and re-ordered it. Instead of being all over the place, the operation set the data into neat rows, freeing up empty space, getting rid of “bad sectors” and making everything neat and tidy. After a defrag, the computer always ran much more smoothly.

Watching the little video of the defrag in process was very satisfying. It felt like chaos was being trounced, and order reigned.

I was thinking of this on Friday night when I attended the temple. Going there, feeling the sweet, calm spirit of that building, getting away from the cares and struggles that had perplexed me all week, I realized the chaos I’d been facing due to a (minor) health challenge, as well as some residual stress from a (good but tough) family situation, seemed to be placed in order.

In fact, I felt just like the Lord was providing a defrag for my inner soul.

This is often how I feel on Sundays at church. I can take the sacrament, review my week, put my heart and mind and priorities in order. I can take stock of what I left undone, and what I need to do better. I often will be prompted during that time as to how I can serve my neighbors or my family. It’s a good, good time. I need it. I need it every single week. My system runs more smoothly. Feeling it happen is very satisfying. I don’t know how I could deal with life’s chaos if I didn’t have the regular defrag going to church and the temple provides.

So, I guess what I'd say is that if you haven't tried it or haven't tried it lately, I highly recommend regular church attendance. It’s a rest and a way to find peace for the soul.

When I Realized the Commandment to Be Perfect Isn't Actually Kinda Cruel

Most of us who have read the words of the Savior have come to the end of the first chapter containing the Sermon on the Mount and hit those words, "Be ye therefore perfect." And we have stumbled at them.

Perfect? Shah, as if! Most days I can't even keep my dinner from burning, let alone aspire to perfection in all areas. (It's true: I burned dinner four times in the last two weeks. Four. My 13yo has started referring to it as "that nice, smoked flavor.")

The commandment to be perfect looks like a shiny golden coin I can reach out for but never touch. In fact, a lot of days, it is so far away, I don't even bother reaching out for it. And on other days, as it winks in the sun, it feels like it's mocking me. "I exist, but you can never have me."

But this is a terrible attitude! It's a wrong attitude.

Then, a while ago I realized the reason for this commandment, and why it isn't just put there to taunt me with its impossibility.

When Christ spoke, He spoke giving His Father's words. He attributed everything to the Father. He gave us His Father's commandments.

The Father is perfect. The Father wants us as His children to grow to become more like Him, and He knows we aren't yet. But He cannot, in His perfection, give us anything less than perfect. He gives His perfect love. He created a perfect earth. He gave us the gift of His perfect Son.

To give us a commandment to be less than perfect would be...well, it wouldn't be in His nature. His nature is to lift us, and to--line upon line--move us toward His kind of life, which is perfection.

When I noted that there isn't a time limit on that commandment (few of them have a time limit), I realized that this commandment was more eternal in nature. It is more like the shining golden city at the far end of a miles-long long path. But because He has given it to us as something to aim for, we can continue walking toward its beauty, keeping our eyes on it as a distant prize.

But there's also this: because He gave us the commandment to be perfect, that means that it must be attainable. That thought planted a grand, golden hope in my heart. I might not be there now, but if He commanded it, I can someday do it.

But what about in this life? Is there any, any, any way to keep this commandment?

Yes, actually. But obviously not on our own.

Here's an analogy you've probably heard before. We in our imperfections are like a bottomless bank account, with no credit limit, getting further and further into debt with all our mistakes, sins, misdeeds, and wrong thinking. However, the Savior is like a bank account filled to infinity. If we allow Him to take us on as financial partners, then infinity minus anything (even our bad credit no matter how bad) is still infinity.

In that way, we can be perfect. When we allow Christ to be our Savior, we are combining with His perfection. It is the only way in this life we can fulfill that commandment. But it's absolutely doable. It's doable today. The way is simple, and it's a combination of the first two principles of the gospel of Jesus Christ:

1) Faith in the Lord Jesus Christ
2) Repentance

By latching ourselves onto these two principles, we become one with our Lord. We become His. And we are thereby made perfect. Not in all the ultimate "golden city at the end of the road" sense, but we become acceptable to the Father. Because we are His Son's.

If ever we read in the scriptures about how the Savior's advocacy will go at judgment day, it's not going to be, "Allow this child into Thy presence because they are worthy." It's more like, "Allow this child into Thy presence because I am worthy--and they're mine."

I want to be His. I want Him to claim me, both at that day and now.