Parmenides’ Legacy (2)

Therefore you are to be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect. Matthew 5:48 NASB

Perfect – Yesterday we considered some of the behavioral implications of the translation of teleios as “perfect.” Today we need to look at the deeper theological implications. It all begins with Parmenides. Parmenides, a 5^th Century BCE Greek philosopher and mystic, defined perfection as a state in which nothing can be added or taken away without altering the essential characteristics of the subject or object. In theology, perfection is the idea that God is totally complete, that nothing can be added to God or taken away from God. Man, of course, is not complete. Man changes—emotionally, physically, mentally and spiritually. In fact, for Parmenides and the subsequent theologians who rely on his definition, God cannot change and Man cannot help but change. The two, God and Man, are on opposite ends of the spectrum. There is an insurmountable gap between God and Man.

Parmenides idea of perfection is the basis for many other theological doctrines such as immutability, eternity, omniscience and unity in God. Needless to say, this kind of philosopher’s God is far removed from human life. He is the Wholly Other, transcendent, radically different than His creation. For Him, nothing ever changes. For us, everything changes. In this sense, we are ontologically inadequate. The doctrine of sinful nature actually grows out of the fertile soil of Parmenidean perfection. But the bottom line for us is this: we can never be good enough.

Unfortunately, this idea of perfection is theoretical. It does not square with almost every human experience. Brené Brown summarizes the situation like this:

“Belonging is the innate human desire to be part of something larger than us. Because this yearning is so primal, we often try to acquire it by fitting in and by seeking approval, which are not only hollow substitutes for belonging, but often barriers to it. Because true belonging only happens when we present our authentic, imperfect selves to the world, our sense of belonging can never be greater than our level of self-acceptance.”[1]

“It is our nature to be imperfect. To have uncategorized feelings and emotions. To make or do things that don’t sometimes necessarily make sense.”[2]

What this means is that the traditional Christian theology concerning the attributes of God is actually completely divorced from our experience as human beings of creation and of God. Something is wrong with a theory that requires you to deny all of your perceived reality. We experience God as intimately involved with life, especially when it comes to our personal worthiness. We experience the history of God’s interaction with His creation as interconnected, entangled and interdependent. And that has a direct effect on how we see ourselves.

“ . . . the core belief that we are enough, comes only when we live inside our story. We either own our stories (even the messy ones), or we stand outside of them—denying our vulnerabilities and imperfections, orphaning the parts of us that don’t fit in with who/what we think we’re supposed to be, . . .”[3]

The implications of lived experience are enormous. We desire and find a God of empathy—a God who understands us and loves us, a God who hears us. Relationship with God is not only essential for our own identity, it is woven into the fabric of creation. This means that “If we can share our story with someone who responds with empathy and understanding, shame can’t survive. . . . shame is a social concept—it happens between people—it also heals best between people.”[4]

But perfection, in either its ethical or theological form, never allows us to bridge the gap. Not only is perfection impossible in lived experience, it is dangerous for our concept of a God who cares. It’s time to rethink our theology and base it on the way the world really works rather than on a rational but sterile concept from the ancient Greeks.

Topical Index: perfection, teleios, Matthew 5:48, Brené Brown

[1] Brené Brown, Daring Greatly, pp. 145-146.

[2] Ibid.

[3] Brené Brown, Daring Greatly, pp. 132-133.

[4] Brené Brown, Daring Greatly, p. 75.