Tuesday Read: The Slavery of Perfectionism

Martha was doing everything right. Her home was spotless, her menu was impressive, and her service was flawless—exactly what any good hostess should provide when Jesus came to dinner. Meanwhile, her sister Mary sat useless at Jesus's feet, ignoring the work that needed to be done, leaving

Tuesday Read: The Slavery of Perfectionism

Martha was doing everything right. Her home was spotless, her menu was impressive, and her service was flawless—exactly what any good hostess should provide when Jesus came to dinner. Meanwhile, her sister Mary sat useless at Jesus's feet, ignoring the work that needed to be done, leaving Martha to handle everything alone. When Martha finally complained about Mary's laziness, she expected Jesus to vindicate her excellence and rebuke Mary's negligence. Instead, Jesus gently corrected her: "Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion" (Luke 10:41-42).

Perfectionism masquerades as virtue but operates as vice. It promises excellence but delivers anxiety, offering the satisfaction of flawless performance while enslaving us to impossible standards. Christian perfectionism is particularly dangerous because it cloaks itself in spiritual language—we want to "do our best for God," to "offer him our finest," to "live worthy of our calling." These motivations sound righteous, but they often spring from pride rather than love, fear rather than faith.

The perfectionist's gospel isn't "saved by grace through faith" but "saved by grace, maintained by performance." We believe God loves us because of Christ's perfection, but we act as if he continues loving us because of our own. We pray perfectly crafted prayers, maintain pristine quiet times, and present carefully curated spiritual lives to our church communities. Meanwhile, we secretly fear that any failure might forfeit God's favor, any mistake might prove we're not really saved.

Scripture offers a different model. David committed adultery and murder, yet God called him "a man after my own heart" (Acts 13:22). Peter denied Christ three times, yet Jesus restored him to leadership. Paul persecuted the church, yet became its greatest missionary. None of these men earned God's favor through perfect performance—they received it through humble repentance and faith in God's mercy.

The root of perfectionism is usually fear—fear of rejection, fear of failure, fear of being exposed as inadequate. But "perfect love casts out fear" (1 John 4:18), and God's love for us is already perfect in Christ. We don't need to earn what we've already been given, maintain what can't be lost, or prove what has already been declared. Our identity rests not on our performance but on God's promise: "There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus" (Romans 8:1).

Where does perfectionism manifest in your spiritual life? How do you respond to your own failures and mistakes? Are you more concerned with appearing godly or becoming godly? True spiritual maturity involves growing in both competence and humility—doing better while depending more completely on grace.