Can There Be a Joyous Perfectionist?

December 18, 2023 | By Gavin S YDS ‘25

image description: body of water near mountain at dawn

Perfectionism is nothing less than the “background qualification,” the silent orchestrator, and the greatest burden of Yale students. As I’ve threaded through my first semester, I’ve met many who are not used to seeing a “-” beside their “A”—those who are reputed as the brilliant one-in-a-million, or those who navigate a landscape of towering expectations in their quest for flawless achievement. That said, I can’t help but wonder: 

Can there be, or should there be, a joyous perfectionist?

The article “Chasing Yale” in the Yale Daily News highlights Senior Sude Yenilmez’s reflection that “only when we leave [Yale] do we realize that everything we worried about was not that significant or unsolvable,” and “we often question whether we did Yale right, if we should have met more people, being involved in more groups or putting ourselves out of our comfort zones more.” [1] Perfection is merely a transient illusion that allures our sense of awe. Yenilmez underscores the pervasive anxiety that shadows tangible achievements. In the article, chasing Yale becomes almost synonymous with chasing perfectionism.

When envisioning the ideal life at Yale—a perfect record of crafting perfect papers, always offering perfect contributions in class, and developing perfect relationships and networking connections, with perfect moments sprinkled in between—we seek a perfection so incredible to stand out among the perfectionists. Yet, the question lingers: How does joy fit into this journey? How can failure be tolerated?

We might already recognize that joy and failure aren’t the adversaries of perfectionism. But we—being the ambitious souls that we are—live as if they are. The long nights of pressure and the early mornings of fatigue become haunting; and, in the bleak mist, joy becomes a casualty when failure is simply not an option.

What I would like to introduce is the distinction between the pursuit of perfection and the pursuit of excellence.

That is, there exists a vast difference between striving for a perfect track record of validation and striving to find a sense of flourishing excellency. Striving for perfection in every task, goal, and aspiration may suppress joy under the weight of relentless stress; but, pursuing flourishing can infuse joy within the vigorous stress that accompanies ambitious endeavors. While both require unwavering focus and tremendous effort, the former often brings negative stress that compromises self-esteem, suffocating joy, while the latter can seamlessly embed joy within the positive stress found in diligence.

In A Guide to the Good Life, a book that translates ancient philosophical principles into contemporary life, the author sheds light on the preceding paragraph by distinguishing a tennis player’s desire to win a match (which is outside of his control) versus playing the match to the best of his ability (something within his control). [2] By pursuing the goal to be excellent, to supersede the desire merely to win the match and to appeal to a sense of accomplishment and enjoyment within the sport itself, he will “spare himself frustration or disappointment should he lose the match,” and “his tranquility will not be disrupted.” [3] With the mindset to win the match, the tennis player’s muscles feel tense and rigid when stretching. While, with the mindset to play his best, his muscles feel a sense of readiness and lightness. He feels vibrant—perhaps even joyous.

Similarly, when I set out to write an “A+ paper,” I inevitably invite stress as I attempt to impress a professor well-versed in exceptional papers (whatever that may mean). In this mindset, anything other than perfection is failure; and thus, my perfectionism becomes a form of fear. Specifically, the fear of failure. [4] But excellence, borrowing from the words of Aristotle, transforms fear into a form of courage. [5] In writing papers (including this blog post!) driven by my own curiosity and fueled by burning questions, papers that navigate and articulate ideas with passion: joy ensues, failure is welcomed, and the work becomes inherently rewarding. 

I find contentment in writing the papers I would *love* to read. This way, the grade isn’t a letter that merits worship in our perfectionist frameworks; it simply becomes a natural byproduct of enjoying the process.

However, this separation of excellence and perfection isn’t one that’s bound to academic spheres. In addition to being a Yale student, I’m also an openly religious person who recognizes that the journey towards spiritual perfection reveals a similar struggle, mirroring my academic life. Indeed, in my spiritual life, I’m guilty of striving towards spiritual perfectionism. There’s even a word for it: “scrupulosity.”

With the expectation to do everything right—in everything from reading scriptures and praying daily to fasting to almsgiving—I pursued perfectionism and inadvertently sacrificed joy in developing an aversion to failure. Even being a Yale student contributes to such scrupulosity. As I bear the pressure to be an “A+” role model in my religious circles, I became allergic to the thought of imperfect “role-modeling.”

However, failure is not foreign to Christianity; in fact, it is essential to Christianity.

The words that one recites in the weekly liturgy of historic Christianity are “we have sinned against You in thought, word, and deed, by what we have done and by what we have left undone.” [6] And this, in addition to being a truth for all of us, is paradoxically the truth of all the saints.

Saints are usually considered role models of the faith, such as Mother Theresa or Joan of Arc. They are the paradigm, the paragons of perfection. But in reality, the saints are sinners in progress. 

So, what are Christians to make of the words of Christ, “Be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect” (Matthew 5:48) and the words of the brother of Christ, “Let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing” (James 1:4)? Are Christians called to do or to embody the impossible? How can anyone be as perfect as God? How can anyone lack in nothing? 

Theologian John Wesley calls all Christians to pursue this vocation of “Christian perfectionism.” [7] However, what he means is that we must pursue wholeness and maturity rather than perfection in the sense of sinlessness or flawlessness, and this is what’s meant by the words of Scripture: that wholeness necessarily incorporates joy and failure.

Christianity, fundamentally, is a religion of joy. 

In the words of Alexander Schmemann in his incredible book, For the Life of the World:

“From the very beginning Christianity has been the proclamation of joy, of the only possible joy on earth… Without the proclamation of this joy Christianity is incomprehensible… ‘For, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy’—thus begins the Gospel, and its end is: ‘And they worshipped him and returned to Jerusalem with great Joy’ (Luke 2:10, 24:52).” [8]

The good news that God provides salvation and redemption should bring the greatest of joys. But the good news also assumes the reality of failures (be it scrupulosity or a moral failure or neglect in thought, word, or deed), which — all the more — should lead us to embrace Joy.

In the end, what is ultimate is not about being a perfect Yale student or a perfect Christian, but about being perfectly human: one that embraces joy and failure in the pursuit of excellence and wholeness, welcoming the tenets of courage and the imperfections that come with the journey.

The saints are forever growing, being sanctified, becoming closer to God. There is no “perfection” even when heaven is real. The only perfection is God. The saints, on the other hand, will continue to be perfected; and, so will we, so long as we pursue courage and excellence in joy as we enter into the season where the bells are ringing and the choirs are singing, “joy to the world.” [9]

References:

[1] Sude Yenilmez. “Chasing Yale.” Yale Daily News. Published September 28, 2023. https://yaledailynews.com/blog/2023/09/28/yenilmez-chasing-yale/

[2-3] William Irvine. A Guide to the Good Life. Published 2008.

[4] Brené Brown. Daring Greatly. Published 2015.

[5] Aristotle. Nicomachean Ethics. Circa 340 BC.

[6] John Wesley. A Plain Account of Christian Perfection. Written 1725–1777.

[7] A version from The Book of Common Prayer. Published 1979.

[8] Alexander Schmemann. For the Life of the World. Published 1963.

[9] Isaac Watts. “Joy to the World.” Written 1719.