Imperfections
The Denson family commemorated a high holy day this week, and no, it was not Valentine’s Day. What could be more important? Baseball! Pitchers and catchers reported to spring training camps in Arizona and Florida this week. For our team, the Cubs, the holy day was Wednesday.
Many years ago, I was the assistant coach for our son’s baseball team. Taylor was a talented player who could be his own worst enemy. Any mistake could create stress and cause him to lose focus. Baseball, as you may know, pays particular attention to errors. Even the smallest mistake can change the outcome of a game. In baseball the goal is perfection, at least when you’re playing in the field. When you’re at bat, you can make a mistake 70% of the time and be considered a very good player. It’s a paradox!
As a coach I supported another father who managed the team. He would get upset with every error, yell at the kids to pay attention, and tell them over and over again to get each play right. I’m sure he thought he was encouraging them, but in fact he was doing exactly the opposite. The players tried so hard not to make an error they would inevitably make one. They overthought every pitch and tensed up when a ball was hit to them. I decided my role was to get them to relax. So, I honored their effort and made a big deal of their successes. I’m not sure this helped us win any games but, as they stopped trying to be perfect, they made fewer errors. They also had a lot more fun.
Baseball is not alone in reinforcing a culture of perfection. Church often does the same. As a child, my mother, supported by the culture of our church, expected me to sit still and not make a sound. From that experience, I learned church was a place to strive for perfection. God, it seemed to me, was watching me more closely on Sunday mornings than the rest of the week.
For those of us responsible for leading and providing weekly worship and Christian education, it’s easy to think we need to create a perfect experience. We want your experience to be not only positive but also meaningful, even transformational. But as in baseball, if we strive for perfection, we are likely to miss the mark. Much more important than “right” worship is creating a space in which we can be as fully human as possible when we’re together, which means allowing for mistakes. We discover the love of God not in perfect worship but in authentic human connection and relationships.
I received an email from a parishioner recently in which she reflected on the fairly regular challenges I have with our A/V system in the parish hall during my monthly rector forums. She wrote, “The imperfections in audiovisual make you and St. Paul's human. We shouldn't come to a perfect church on Sunday morning and then return to our chaotic imperfect lives. We see the modeling of gracious acceptance of imperfection with humor and grace and bring that into our own orbits.”
By no means am I always gracious in the face of imperfection. But her email reminds me of the lesson I learned coaching baseball. It’s when we stop striving for perfection that we find what it is we’re truly looking for: grace, acceptance, joy and love. All of the gifts God promises us in Jesus.