The construct of perfection is often misconceived, just as the one word sentence above comes across – as incomplete. A sentence must, theoretically, have a subject and a verb. However, in its sense, perfection is complete, in and of itself, alone, by itself.
In this sense, “perfection” cannot only qualify as a complete sentence by itself, but can be a complete paragraph, an entire thought that is conveyed perfectly, yet singularly and completely, within its own meaning of self. By itself, this one word can be a sentence, a paragraph, a chapter, and, indeed, a book.
This is God, to me—singular and completely perfect in three-syllabic and harmonic “one-ness.”
Amazingly, the construct of “perfection” necessitates the existence of flaws. How can one evaluate the concept of perfection without an abstract by which to compare?
Indeed, if God is “light,” how would we know of such light without the presence of darkness? This is the “God-story” which evolved through the opening verses and chapters of Genesis, the book of beginnings. It was not the beginning of God, but most certainly it was the start of God’s revelation of self, through the prism of darkness, through imperfection.
The Gospel of John reiterates this construct in the description of Christ’s life-force entry into our cosmos and domain, indeed, into our wilderness.
John speaks of this perfect light in contrast to darkness, when saying, “What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.”
When we gaze into the cosmos through our clear nighttime skies, we are afforded many a glimpse into the nature of this truth. Taking unfathomable light years to reach humankind, light traverses from many distinct points of origin. Never stopping through the cosmos, across distant galaxies, light persists through darkness, seemingly never to make contact with darkness itself, until it hits us. It hits us “earthlings.” It hits “humankind,” we “Adamic” creatures, formed from the dust of the ground. It hits earth, our island home, of whom we are and to whom we return.
This light inspires us, in many ways, and has done so from millennia and will continue to do so for millennia to come. This light has inspired writers, poets, and story tellers from across the ages and from across our ancestors’ places from which they wandered. These lights guided their travels, for they are beacons of hope, affording direction of purpose and inspiration to “go forth.”
Each complete, in and of their own selves, individually, yet exist corporately together, as one construct or being.
Light is not known without darkness, perfection is unknown without flaws, harmony is unknown in silence; love is unknown when engulfed within the flawed state of loneliness and empty darkness.
Then Love came down. Perfection reached us, in our empty, dark void. Light illumined us with his presence. God sat with us to eat and drink; love made abode in us and made us to walk in light.
Love compels us to go forth, ourselves, into the dark places of void; not merely to share this love, but to be this love to those who still sit in darkness. Love compels us to bind together the flawed, to speak light, peace, and love into existence, together, harmoniously. Love compels us to sing the creation song as we go forth into the world, to illumine the world as we go in peace, in loving service to our Lord, our light.
Grace—whose children we are, whose love has begotten us, whose light has guided us, whose perfection inspires us.
This is Emmanuel, our Lord and our God, with us.
This is Y’Shua, our Savior—the love of the Father, made flesh, like us, reaching us, from his distinct place of origin.
This is singular perfection, in three-part harmony. God made known to us in imperfection, affording to us wholeness and union in the Communion of Saints through his own presence with us, even when we, ourselves, sat in this same dark, lonely void.
The musings of God, as if speaking to self, restored creation and continues to perfect all things and all humanity through the Word, made flesh. This Word, taking residence within our temporal abode, ascertained for us, and for all creation, Presence within his own abode, his Spirit.
The Presence of God, as if abiding in self, is perfect communion. Always. Everywhere. Spirit, whose existence is ever extending from the Father, ever reaching into infinite domains, ever caressing the imperfect, forever works to restore, revive, and renew.
The Love of God, as if loving self, completely, in love with Word and Spirit, perfects all things through his Word and Spirit. Even when this Word took the form of mere temporal dust, becoming the ugliness of sin upon the cross, and taking on our death within his flesh, the Father ever loved the son. Love that is ever extending, ever reaching from ones origin, ever orienting all of creation and all creatures from our wanderings, orients all towards our destination, our origination, our God.
The one Being of God was made known to us in the story of our beginnings. In the imperfection of all things, love perfects all things unto himself, for God is true love of self, love that gives of self.
Love has descended from afar. Now, may we go forth as beacons of light, imparting the life of Christ through true service to the Gospel. For God so loved the world, that he gives each of us, in communion with each other, so that the world, through Christ in us, might be saved.
[Image Credit: Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons]