How Lofty Ideals Made Me a Worse Person
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I have always known I was not perfect, but for a long time, I laboured under the impression that the Christian thing to do was to act as much as possible as if I were. To act like what I thought the ideal Christian was.
When I was a child, and I didn’t know the difference between sin and impoliteness or the difference between sin and immaturity, I thought everything from picking your nose to failing to excuse yourself after burping necessitated God’s forgiveness! My understanding of being a Christian was very tied up in ‘being the bigger person,’ which I understood to mean saying and doing the most ‘ideal’ thing in every interaction with other people, every time, in every situation.
This idea stayed with me for a long time, which is unfortunate as giving the impression of perfection, trying to live to this ideal all the time, was a fairly difficult undertaking!
As far as I could tell, being a Christian meant excusing and overlooking rudeness and unkindness whenever I was the target – just as it meant ignoring communication difficulties both in conversation and relationships, every time, without fail. The most ideal thing meant always letting other people’s interests prevail, and avoiding the appearance of self-interestedness by refraining from talking too much about myself or from expecting my tastes in activities to be catered to by friends, while at the same time trying to cater to their interests and engage them in conversation about themselves without fail.
I think I came to think all of this from well-intentioned efforts in my circle growing up. There was always an effort made to encourage social ease and comfort by emphasizing manners, and humility and curtailing self-focused conversation. In practice, however, approaching other people in this way never really did what it set out to, and instead it hampered honest self-understanding and as such prohibited functional communication.
If I was hurt by someone’s words or actions I didn’t know how to admit that internally to myself let alone choose a course of action to resolve the issue. If the correct course of action was to always ‘be the bigger person,’ to overlook the offence, to try to be above reproach in my own behaviour, while more or less ignoring the hurt I felt, how could the issues I had with others ever be resolved? Since the only course of action was one that didn’t actually acknowledge or attempt to deal with my hurt, my striving to be what I understood as ‘selflessly ideal’ just made it easier to feel resentful toward people who probably honestly had no idea they ever said or did anything that was difficult for me. It hurt relationships by making a failure to communicate look like the virtue of long suffering.
By my count, there are at least four reasons this line of thinking and acting, this striving to always be this kind of ‘ideal Christian,’ is problematic:
As I have already said, it makes all communication largely one-sided. So in a real way, it makes poor communication a virtue.
In line with this, it comes to make ignorance and denial, of my feelings and reactions, seem like a virtue as well.
And while so far I have only talked about how this way of thinking impacted my relationship with other people, it also did no favours for how I understood God. If the appropriate response to every situation is predetermined and what was good is knowable apart from having a relationship with Christ, then the need for honest consideration, struggle, and prayer is also removed from the equation.
And finally, it fosters what I call an, ‘over-realized sanctification.’ It equates knowledge of what I believed to be the right course of action with actually being conformed to the Image of Christ.
In the thick of my struggle with infertility, I found myself feeling hurt a lot. I’ve said before that it felt like walking around with the top layer of skin removed from your body – I was hypersensitive, and everything stung. Things people said hurt. Things people did hurt. I hurt even when no one said or did anything to hurt me. I sobbed when friends told me they were expecting. I felt like a failure and substandard as a person of faith because I thought I needed to ‘be the bigger person’ (whatever that means in a situation where no one has done anything wrong!) and that meant the ideal response would be an unselfish one where my personal anguish didn’t detract from my ability to rejoice with those who are rejoicing (Romans 12:15).
I wanted to be the kind of person people might wonder at for their saintly ability to set aside their own experience to celebrate with others. The problem was that I couldn’t do it. It was like I was reading a script but I couldn’t actually form the words I was reading on the page.
The ideal of the selfless response kept me striving outwardly and fuming inwardly with the hurt I didn’t know what to do with, rather than learning to talk about it honestly both with others and with God. I wish I had been able to just say to my pregnant friends that I was happy for them but that I was having trouble expressing it well in that moment because I was afraid I wouldn’t ever be able to announce my own pregnancy. I wish I had been able to tell them that I regretted not being able to set that aside, that since it was a pain I was struggling with every day, those feelings were always there under the surface. It was never far from my conscious thoughts. I wish I had been able to be able to express the same frustration, hurt and anger with God.
I think instead of trying to follow lofty ideals of how we should act “Christian” in every situation, we are better served by learning to hone our self-knowledge. In Romans 12:3, we are encouraged to think of ourselves with “sober judgement.” The context of this passage has to do with exercising gifts as parts within the one Body of Christ, but I think there is wisdom in thinking of ourselves with sober judgement in other facets of life as well.
My focus on the ideal response was a barrier for me thinking of myself with sober judgment because since it had the right way to act in all situations laid out for me, it essentially absolved me of ever having to learn how to practice sober judgement in the first place. It hindered my ability to honestly assess my own limitations and learn how to act appropriately.
It is certainly advisable to do what you know is right regardless of how you feel, but sometimes in relationships with others, even when your hurt, it isn't about right and wrong as much as it is about growth and maturity. There is a range of responses that are not sinful, but that are perhaps more or less helpful. In my own life, when I have acted to try to live up to an ideal when I honestly wasn't there yet emotionally or spiritually, I have caused myself a lot of pain and hampered relationships by failing to communicate my own needs and limitations. Basically, I was begrudgingly doing a favour for someone that they never asked for, and that is not a recipe for healthy relationships of any sort.
