Perfectionism is something I have been thinking about, and struggling with, for years. I struggle because I know perfectionism not only makes me miserable but my perfectionism can also make the people around me miserable. I have spent a lot of years blaming myself, and my perfectionist mother, for these tendencies. (My mother, of blessed memory, is no longer here to defend herself.)

For a number of years, to counter my tendencies, I have been practicing being a “slacker.” I am not sure I have perfected that yet but just naming that I don’t have to get it all done, all right, all the time, has helped relieve a bit of the pressure I put on myself – and others.

It crossed my mind recently that my mother and I are not the only Mennonites that struggle with perfectionism. I wonder if it is baked into Anabaptism, this need to get everything right. There it is, in the “sermon on the mount,” (our favorite part of the bible)  Matthew 5:48 Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect.

As Anabaptists, we try to follow Jesus in all things. One strand of early Anabaptists took Jesus’ words literally and became like little children, playing with toys in the town square. They were trying to get it right. Trying to be perfect?

Maybe perfection is overrated? S often says, “Forget perfection, aim for fantastic.” And B recently told me that “Perfection is the hobgoblin of small minds.” Thank goodness for the wisdom of the Wednesday comforter group.

In the case of this verse from the Sermon on the Mount, “Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect,” a little digging shows that “perfect” is not a “perfect” translation of the Greek. As often happens in the gospel of Matthew, the writer is drawing a parallel with the Mosaic law, this time with Leviticus (11:44-45, 19:2) where God says –  Be holy as I am holy.

In Matthew, the “Be perfect” command comes after the instruction to love enemies and pray for persecutors, in other words love everyone. Be like the rain, fall on the just and on the unjust. Perhaps a better translation is be whole, be complete, as God is wholeness.

In the text today from I Kings, Elijah is not feeling whole. He is on the run from the long arm of Jezebel. Elijah has just demonstrated the mighty power of Israel’s God – and then killed the 450 prophets of Baal to further prove his point. This violence against the prophets of Baal angers Queen Jezebel. These are her personal prophets. So Jezebel sends her people to chase down, apprehend and kill Elijah.

As Elijah runs toward freedom, he wanders for 40 days and 40 nights, and ends up on top of the mountain, alone, with nothing but his self righteousness for company. He knows he has done everything right. He is faithful, the only faithful one remaining in all of Israel. The other Israelites have failed and he, only he, is faithful to God. We see Elijah in his protective cave, hiding from Jezebel and maybe even from God.

But it seems God will have none of it. The voice of the Holy is heard, “What are you doing here, Elijah?” What is he doing? Elijah is hiding in his perfection. He says, The people of Israel have abandoned your covenant, broken down your altars and put your prophets to death by the sword. (It’s interesting how Elijah accuses others of killing prophets when the story says he killed the prophets of Baal.) I am the only one left, and now they’re trying to kill me too.

God tells Elijah, “Go out and stand on the mountain before the Lord, for the Lord is about to pass by.” (In other words, go outside, take a walk around the block, get a hold of yourself.)

Before Elijah can even leave the cave, the winds blow, the earth quakes, the lightening blazes. And though it gets Elijah’s attention, none of this is the exquisite voice of God. I wonder if Elijah hopes all the commotion is God. Does perfectly faithful Elijah hope the people experience this wrath of God while he, Elijah, is in the safety of the cave?

After all the disturbances, the thin silence comes upon Elijah. And he covers himself with his mantle (the cloak that indicates he is a prophet) and cautiously ventures outside the cave. Is silence the voice of God? Is God in the silence? (silence)

Then the question comes to Elijah again, the same question that he heard inside the cave. What are you doing here, Elijah? It is a little bit like that exercise where you are asked the same question over and over again until you get to the depths of yourself, until you stop covering up with a lot of fancy words and you are honest about who you are and what you are trying to do.

Obviously, the instruction to dig deeper each time the question is asked has not reached Elijah. He has the exact same answer as the first time – that he has done everything right, he has been zealous for God and now I am the only one left, and now they’re trying to kill me too.

To be fair, fearing for your life does have a way of taking over the amygdala, the lizard part of your brain, so you can’t think clearly. Still, I somehow expect more of a prophet – even though prophets are only human.

“The voice” asks the question twice, What are you doing here, Elijah? – and then God calls Elijah out on all this drama. The voice lets Elijah know that there are others who are faithful, it is not all up to him. It is time for Elijah to anoint and appoint other leaders. And by the way, there are 7000 other faithful that remain.

How does this revelation land with Elijah? The text seems to indicate that Elijah takes off right away to find his successor, Elisha. I can imagine though that Elijah might do some internal wrestling before he hits the road again to anoint and appoint.

Though he is trying to be faithful, somewhere along the line it seems like Elijah gets faithful mixed up with perfect, sort of like our Anabaptist ancestors. Of course we want to get it right, of course we want to faithfully follow in the way of Jesus. But what if part of being faithful is being human and recognizing our own brokenness, recognizing that we will not get it right every time.

As hard as we try to get it right, we do know brokenness. Brokenness is all around us: in the danger our neighbors experience from ICE, the ongoing wars in Ukraine and Iran – and the spreading violence. Brokenness in Palestine and Israel, brokenness in the racism and sexism that are baked into the systems in this country. Brokenness in the ways we sometimes aren’t so kind to the people we love, including ourselves. We do seek wholeness. We seek faithfulness. And sometimes we get perfect and faithful mixed up on our way to wholeness.

One of my models in working with perfectionism (instead of against it) is Kara Morgan. I met Kara about 20 years ago when she was a student in the opera program at University of Maryland. Now she lives in LA and works in comedy. Kara has struggled with perfectionism. (She talks about this publicly so I am not sharing any secrets here.) At her therapist’s suggestion, Kara began to explore, in her comedy, her inner perfectionist. She discovered and uncovered other parts of herself as well and brought them into conversation with each other, and with the perfectionist.

Laughing with Kara as her inner perfectionist talks to the inner child or the inner diva, or even her self, helps me see how ridiculous my own inner (and outer) perfectionist is. Kara helps me see that life is more than just “getting it right.” Kara’s characters make me giggle, and belly laugh, and marvel at how one person can have so many voices.

Part of me, the perfectionist part, wonders if maybe it isn’t a bit frivolous to laugh when there is so much disaster and turmoil, violence and heartache, in the world. How can we laugh when the brokenness is right in front of us, right within us. How can we laugh when we are in the midst of brokenness?

To be clear, I am not laughing at the brokenness. And laughter is not as reckless as it may seem. Sometimes it is perfectionism that keeps us from moving toward healing and wholeness – and isn’t that reckless in its own way? Laughter can help us get unstuck when perfectionism holds us tight. Laughter can help us stop trying to be perfect, stop having to “get it right.” As many wise people over the centuries have said, “perfect is the enemy of good.”

Elijah was so sure he “got it right,” that he was right. Then he experiences some time in silence, in the holiness of thin silence. Maybe it is in that silence that he begins to hear how ridiculous he sounds. “The only faithful one left, the only one God can depend on.” Oh my. What a laugh.

As long as there are other humans, God is at work in the world. No, scratch that. As long as there is creation, God is at work in the world. Now that is something to be joyful about, to make us smile and laugh.

The voice asks – What are you doing here? We can grin and say we are bringing our imperfect selves to be part of the wholeness that is possible. May it be so.