The Enemy of the Perfect

We have now received the blessings of waiting for the Christ child, the miracle of His holy birth, and the arrival of the Magi. It’s hard to believe we are almost ready for our walk toward Calvary and the stone rolling away. Septuagesima is a blessed season to prepare ourselves and contemplate what vices we need to eradicate, then we move into Lent for the deep work. The great fast offers many opportunities for reflection. One suggestion I consider when preparing for Lent is “don’t let the perfect be the enemy of the good.” The web cannot decide whether this maxim comes from Winston Churchill, Mark Twain, or Voltaire. It’s not important for the essay, but it always annoys me when I cannot find definitive answers to give credit.

Often when my family members are struggling with nutrition, adding prayers and penances, or any difficult task that faces us, we will tell one another not to let the perfect be the enemy of the good. Eating cake one day does not consign us to a lifetime of bad eating. Sleeping through my alarm one morning after I’ve been up late doesn’t make me slothful, though it should not become a pattern.  

The pattern of our days matters more than occasional great works in terms of our growth in virtue. If I give up because I make one mistake, I will not become a saint. I must soldier on despite my imperfections, not allowing them to make me give up, but assisting me in developing diligence, perseverance, and humility. Nothing is more humbling than picking myself up, dusting myself off, and starting again. Diligence is as important in the spiritual life as it is in any health program. I like training for races; I don’t like “working out.” If I feel like I’m a gerbil spinning to nowhere, it’s difficult for me to keep going. But even with no race on the schedule, I must keep going. It’s for my long-term health and so I don’t become a physical burden to those around me. This is ultimately more important than any race I can enter. Similarly, I cannot become a saint if slopping through my prayers one day discourages me from being more attentive the next day because I think I can’t become a saint. I sometimes suffer from feeling like an imposter, as I’ve known many people who would probably laugh at the very idea of me trying to become a saint. We cannot let that stop us. Never let the desire for immediate perfection hold us back from progress, no matter how small. Our Lord himself admonished us to be perfect, so we know He believes we can.

Lately, I have also been thinking about how many times per day I let “good enough” be the standard. I scroll on Instagram for 5 more minutes. Who does it hurt? I clean the bathroom again before doing the dishes. No one will mind. I’m still getting the house clean. I work on an essay rather than figuring out the technology for Southwell Media, the new publishing house Tom and I are founding. I’m still using the gifts God gave me for His kingdom.

It’s just 5 minutes.

It’s just the wrong order of chores.

It’s just an essay rather than progress on a task I’ve been given by the authority in my life.

But here’s the thing: none of that is “just”.

The word “just” has two primary meanings:

• Being in conformity with what is righteous (a just war)
• By a very small margin (just barely)

Applying the second definition first, the less important of the two, implies that making a mistake by a “small margin” isn’t a big deal. If it’s “just” 5 minutes, who is hurt? I still have a lot of time in the day. Yet 5 minutes per day becomes 35 minutes per week and 30 hours in a year. That’s a great deal of time I could spend growing in virtue rather than succumbing to comfort. 

Almost every day, in seemingly small ways, I choose my comfort rather than virtue. I choose the wrong thing. In the moment, it never seems like a big decision. It seems inconsequential, not sloth or indifference. Just a small thing. But even small sins are an offense to God. And beginning to notice and change these small comforts into virtues is tremendously important to my growth in holiness.

Applying the second definition suggests that my relatively small deficiencies are, nonetheless, righteous. This is a great error. Instead of pretending that whatever comforts me is righteous, I should be constantly focusing and re-focusing on my relationship with God.  God has given me this day. Is it just to Him for me to waste a second of it? No. If I am arguing in favor of doing the wrong thing, even in small matters, that is not just toward God. Being in conformity with Him is how I know I’m moving in the right direction. This requires prudential judgement in what is most important in the day. It is important that I deal with the many tasks required of a book publisher, but equally important that I care for the people and household that He has given me to matriarch.  

This is not to say that recreation isn’t allowed. Of course we can relax and enjoy one another. But does scrolling accomplish right recreation? For me it generally doesn’t. When it isn’t neurotic it’s at best just a waste of time. Except for sharing memes with my family. That’s quality recreation.

There are no small vices, just as there are no small virtues. Getting the minutia right matters. When I stand before Him at the end of my life, I will need to account for all of these decisions. I pray every day that I am making the correct ones.

Part of what I love about the first definition is the “being in conformity” phrase. “To conform” means to adopt the form of or to live in compliance with the laws and standards set. I wish to adopt the form of Christ and to live in compliance with His Church. We live the ten commandments, the precepts of the Church and the spiritual and temporal works of mercy the best we can. Even in the smallest things, we strive to be just, which requires us to mortify our will and seek His. So I must notice what task should come first and pray even before that noticing. I delete Instagram from my phone and have specific times when messages are checked. Only in the present moment can I work out my salvation. The past is over and the future is not promised to me.

Given all of this, how can I avoid “letting the perfect be the enemy of the good” and “letting ‘good enough’ be the enemy of the perfect”? Partly, I must avoid both the temptation to sloppiness and the petty tyrant in my head. I should do all things with love. Praying without ceasing is another good start. If in any given moment I know the Divine Infant is right there with me, I have a better sense of what should happen next.

Soon it will be Lent, then Easter, then Ascension and Pentecost, and before we know it we will begin a new year with Advent again. Now is our moment to become saints. Let’s roll.