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.

"Isogashii." A Japanese Word For...

I spent seventeen months in Japan as a missionary a couple of decades ago. Most readers of this blog probably know that. (Most readers of this blog are ... me.)


While I was there, I remember anxiously trying to contact several different families to have them continue with their missionary lessons. But at some point their answer had become, "Ah, isogashii." Japanese for "busy."


I know, I know. People are genuinely busy. There are a lot of demands in modern life. Moreover, there are distractions. There are things we sign ourselves up for that are like a huge time-sucking vortex. Sports, music lessons, clubs, community organizations. Each one may be worthy of our time and attention. But they do make us busy.


And yeah, I know that sometimes the words "I'm busy" is just code for "I don't really want to prioritize that" or "I'm not actually interested." That's just human nature.


Worst, in my case, "I'm busy" can sometimes be code for "I'm too self-absorbed."


But when we are instead filling our days and evenings and lives with things that don't matter as much as the "weightier matters," what are we trading? I think it's a dangerous drift when we let our kids get really busy with activities to where they can't attend family dinners on a regular basis, or they miss their church meetings or don't have time to serve others. Or not just our kids--ourselves.


Sometimes the good is the enemy of the best. Sometimes busy is the enemy of the best, also.


I keep telling myself, if I'm too busy to help a friend in need, I'm too busy. If my kids are too busy to go to their Wednesday night activity at church regularly, they are too busy and need to reevaluate their time. If our family is too busy to eat dinner together, then it's time to chop some activities. Because I don't want the BEST to fall victim to the GOOD.

How to Make Sacrifices for Christ: Counting the Cost

This morning I was reading in the New Testament from Luke Chapter 14. I'm making my way through the New and Old Testaments slowly. Recently I read something I believe was from Joseph Fielding McConkie like "We read the scriptures too quickly," and that's certainly been the case with me. A chapter in three different books each morning, about a half hour of study. Zip, done. Pondering quickly (oxymoron), getting a bit of spiritual breakfast and I'm off.


But I ought to be feasting on the word. And so I've been reading more slowly. In the New Testament I've been trying to read just a paragraph or two (signified by the paragraph symbols.) I then try to focus and think about what that parable or event could mean. It has helped.


So today I read about when Jesus was being followed by a great multitude of people and he turned to them and told them in order to be his disciples they have to hate father, mother, wife, children, brethren, sisters, to follow him. Then he gave this parable:


28 For which of you, intending to build a tower, sitteth not down first, and ^acounteth the ^bcost, whether he have sufficient to ^cfinish it?

 29 Lest ^ahaply, after he hath laid the foundation, and is not able to finish it, all that behold it begin to mock him,

 30 Saying, This man began to build, and was not able to ^afinish.

 31 Or what king, going to make war against another king, sitteth not down first, and ^aconsulteth whether he be able with ten thousand to meet him that cometh against him with twenty thousand?

 32 Or else, while the other is yet a great way off, he sendeth an ^aambassage, and desireth conditions of peace.

 33 So likewise, whosoever he be of you that ^aforsaketh not all that he hath, he cannot be my ^bdisciple.

The thing that struck me about this was that yes, we want to follow Christ. We feel the Spirit when we read His words and the Spirit fills our souls, and we think this is what I want. That must have been the case among the great multitude that followed Him.

But Christ pointed out that there is a cost. If you want the tower, you have to plan to finish it. If you want to win the battle, you need to evaluate your resources and whether you're going to win. You don't want to look like a quitter. You don't want to look like a failure. You need to plan for the victory and for success. But the tower is worth it, as is the victory. And so you "count the cost."

That final verse, 33, where he says, "forsaketh not all that he hath," shows what the cost is for becoming a disciple of Christ, one of the greatest things to be desired because the rewards are immeasurably great--greater than the multitude could've imagined at that time.

This is the cost: all that we are and have, forever more.

Considering this, I think baptism is what shows that we are willing to give it, and I believe that the strengthening we get from the Holy Ghost along the way is the great enabling power that helps us pay that cost as we go. We learn to pay the price. We become so that we are able to pay the cost, with His divine help.

We should not forget to count that Helper into our cost estimate, because He is always there for us, lifting us and making us better.