The late Rabbi Harold Kushner once said: “I don’t believe in a God who looks for reasons to punish people for being less than perfect.  It is bad religion to teach that—just as it’s a mistake for parents to be excessively disappointed every time their child makes a mistake.  I believe, instead, in a God who knows how complicated human life is, how difficult it can be; I believe in a God who expects not a perfect life but an honest effort at a good life.  Even the best people can’t get everything right all the time.  Maybe human life is as difficult as it is because God loves goodness more than perfection and He appreciates our struggle to achieve good as preferable to our being programmed to be perfect.  If God could not love flawed, imperfect people, He would be very lonely because imperfect people are the only ones around.  And if we can’t accept and love people with all their imperfections, we condemn ourselves to loneliness as well.”           

When I entered seminary at twenty-three years of age, I was searching and deeply aware of my sins, faults, and desire for a better and more meaningful life.  I thought that the church could help me and that the priesthood might be the perfect existence to which God was calling me.   I viewed the church from my childhood formation as God’s vessel that is maternal, compassionate, and wise.  I eventually fell in love with it or, maybe, grew dependent upon it.  But later I realized that I loved the idea of priesthood and the hope that it would give me the direction and purpose I sought.  I think something similar happened for my friends who sought and found their perfect partner, the one with whom they fell in love and married.

But as occurs in many marriages, there was disillusionment after the honeymoon phase when I thought I had made a mistake or when things got difficult or when I realized that priesthood and church also had sins, faults, and imperfections.  Many men quit the priesthood just as many spouses give up on marriage while others endure the dryness, hardships, or mundane routines accepting that they are part of the relationship.  I have, through the years and plenty of hard knocks, learned to live with the sorrows and imperfections—mine and the church’s—and even accepted that they are part of the commitment we both made. 

In some ways, I am extremely fortunate now to return to the place of my first pastorate, three and a half decades earlier, in Kansas City’s urban core, for what will surely be my last pastoral assignment.  I am more mature now.  I have survived some growing pains and gained valuable experiences—perhaps even some wisdom.  It helps in recommitting myself to what I believe was and still is a call from God that unites me to a divine purpose within the church.  Daily encounters with people who suffer far more than I have allow me to appreciate battles to achieve happiness and meaning.  Though not perfect, the struggle to achieve something good in the heart of Kansas City with the assistance of many wonderful people throughout the metropolitan area is a calling worth responding to and a blessing that helps create a more wholesome community where we, with all our imperfections, can partake in God’s mission in notable, impactful ways.  No, not perfect, but it’s an honest effort at goodness.  Like Kushner, I believe that God appreciates whatever flawed grace results from our flawed efforts and commitments.