The virtue of self-acceptance
First of a series

One of the most bewildering things about Christianity is the rigidity of its demands upon our faith and life. It is true that the most amazing thing about our faith is that we are not saved by our works but by God's grace. And yet from the words of Jesus, it is also clear that he did not come to abolish the law but to fulfill it.

The sermon on the Mount is a new law for Christians. As the Ten Commandments were brought down from Mount Sinai to be obeyed, so also Christians are to conduct their lives by the Sermon on the Mount, which has

been called "the portrait of Christ's character." But surely you have noticed how stringent its moral demands are! "Whoever says (to his brother) 'you fool' shall be in danger of hell-fire" (Mathew 5:22); "He who looks upon a woman with lust has already committed adultery in his heart" (Mathew 5:28); "If your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off; it is better for you to enter life with one hand than with two hands in hell… if your right eye causes you to sin, pluck it out" (Mathew 5:29, 5:30). And haven't you been bothered by the word of Jesus: "Be perfect even as your Father in heaven is perfect" (Mathew 5:48)? And to top it all, listen to the second greatest commandment: "You will love your neighbor as yourself" (Mathew 5:43). Have you been able to love your neighbor as yourself?

Our predicament is summed up in the words of our fellow mortal, St. Paul: "The good that I desire to do I don't do; but the evil that I don't desire to do, this is the thing I do. Miserable man that I am. Who shall deliver me from this body of death?" (Romans 7:19-24)

Indeed who shall deliver us, or how shall we be delivered from the tight spot we are in?

You will agree with me that, as far as the divine demands upon us are concerned, our frustration springs from the realization that we cannot be quite completely obedient. For as one great preacher has expressed it, "The Christian faith calls us to heights we cannot reach, to demands we cannot realize, to hopes we cannot fulfill, to perfectness we cannot attain."

An earnest churchman, Harry Moore, who years ago was a scout of the Detroit Dodgers baseball team, wrote some poetry. It would not be called great poetry, but one of these speaks to our human frailty:

"I wish I had the time gone by, I'd use it quite differently than I have done. But then 'tis likely soon I'll find I'd make mistakes of another kind."

Isn't this true of your own experience? You and I often find ourselves dissatisfied with our low or mediocre performance; then we try to make amends. But the trouble is we make mistakes of another kind.*TO BE CONTINUED

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