Friday, February 24, 2006
Be perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect.
(Category: life, faith)
Over the last few weeks, especially when it comes to housework, and the related activity of keeping my office tidy(!) I have found myself using a saying, almost like a mantra to explain my actions. "I never claim perfection, only adequacy."
It is related, I suppose to the tendency to do the minimum required, enough to get away with.
Now I know that housework is almost the definition of mundane, but this morning I had that realisation (like the proverbial lightbulb) that "I never claim perfection, only adequacy" is profoundly antithetical the the teachings of Jesus in the New Testament and his Father in the Old.
It came to light though a few moments ago in a startlingly practical manner. I am sitting here at my desk, reading the email and attempting to muster the enthusiasm for sermon writing when an anonymous white van draws up outside. This in itself is nothing unusual, folks are forever pulling up outside the vicarage to look at maps and call people on their mobile phones. I don't think this place is a maze, but that's me. The Lost may turn up at the Vicarage, but unfortunately they are only aware that they are geographically challenged, rather than in a more fundamental sense!
However, a somewhat scruffy gent gets out and begins to assemble a "For Sale" sign. I watch welcoming the mild distraction (having a window giving me a street view is wonderful!) "So", I say to myself, "it looks like R & P" (the folks across the road) "are thinking of moving." Said scruffy gent then heads to my garden with metal stake, sledgehammer and sign.
Now, I am unaware of the Diocese's intentions to sell the Vicarage without at least warning me, and so I hasten outside. "I'm not aware that we're selling this place" say I.
Scruffy gent looks puzzled. "You sure?" he asks.
"Definitely" I answer.
Inspection of scruffy gents' clipboard revelal the right road, but wrong number.
"It's that satellite navigation again", says he, dismantling the sign before heading back in the right direction to an even-numbered house.
Well, may God bless him with accuracy and perception. Maybe his motto is also "I never claim perfection, only adequacy." You never know, he might even try reading the house numbers for a little while! ¶ 9:17 am
Over the last few weeks, especially when it comes to housework, and the related activity of keeping my office tidy(!) I have found myself using a saying, almost like a mantra to explain my actions. "I never claim perfection, only adequacy."
It is related, I suppose to the tendency to do the minimum required, enough to get away with.
Now I know that housework is almost the definition of mundane, but this morning I had that realisation (like the proverbial lightbulb) that "I never claim perfection, only adequacy" is profoundly antithetical the the teachings of Jesus in the New Testament and his Father in the Old.
It came to light though a few moments ago in a startlingly practical manner. I am sitting here at my desk, reading the email and attempting to muster the enthusiasm for sermon writing when an anonymous white van draws up outside. This in itself is nothing unusual, folks are forever pulling up outside the vicarage to look at maps and call people on their mobile phones. I don't think this place is a maze, but that's me. The Lost may turn up at the Vicarage, but unfortunately they are only aware that they are geographically challenged, rather than in a more fundamental sense!
However, a somewhat scruffy gent gets out and begins to assemble a "For Sale" sign. I watch welcoming the mild distraction (having a window giving me a street view is wonderful!) "So", I say to myself, "it looks like R & P" (the folks across the road) "are thinking of moving." Said scruffy gent then heads to my garden with metal stake, sledgehammer and sign.
Now, I am unaware of the Diocese's intentions to sell the Vicarage without at least warning me, and so I hasten outside. "I'm not aware that we're selling this place" say I.
Scruffy gent looks puzzled. "You sure?" he asks.
"Definitely" I answer.
Inspection of scruffy gents' clipboard revelal the right road, but wrong number.
"It's that satellite navigation again", says he, dismantling the sign before heading back in the right direction to an even-numbered house.
Well, may God bless him with accuracy and perception. Maybe his motto is also "I never claim perfection, only adequacy." You never know, he might even try reading the house numbers for a little while! ¶ 9:17 am
