📅 27 September 2026  |  👤  Fr Keith D'Souza  SJ

We are imperfect people, living in an imperfect world. Some of us pretend to be perfect—or worse, imagine that we are. Some of us recognize our imperfections but want to change—even if slowly and inconsistently. Some of us don’t seem to bother to strive towards perfection—or at least minimal change towards the better.

The mission of Jesus was to attend to a wounded world of the spiritually imperfect, and to invite them to a fuller life. Some could not digest the possibility that imperfect folks could be socially recognized and given another chance. Ultimately, Jesus was marginalized and executed by self-righteous leaders—those pretending to be perfect or understanding themselves to be so.

The first reading (Ezekiel 18: 25-28) features a complaint from people who assume themselves to be more perfect than their ancestors—and fret that they are unjustly paying the price for the imperfections of their ancestors. Ezekiel Chapter 18 begins with the well-known adage: “the parents eat sour grapes, and the children’s teeth are set on edge”—implying a fatalistic and mechanistic inheritance of the consequences of ancestral sinfulness. The prophet, echoing the voice of God, clearly contests this sentiment: each of us will bear the consequences of our own actions—and will not have to pay the price for our ancestors’ imperfections and misdeeds. 

The psalm (Ps. 25) appeals to God’s goodness and mercy, asking that compassion and forgiveness be foregrounded, rather than Divine justice and retribution. The humble—those who recognize their limitations and imperfections—are extolled as more likely to learn God’s ways of compassion and merciful love.

The second reading (Philippians 2: 1-11) features a renunciation of Divine perfection and the assumption of an imperfect human form by Jesus. This is in itself a radical message of the recognition of human limitations and imperfection as a good enough ground for human flourishing—and ultimately, salvation. Despite the varied imperfections of his special crew of twelve emissaries, Jesus chose them as his primary apostolic team.

The Gospel (Mt. 21: 28-32) portrays a “perfection paradox”: an example of an imperfect response for help (a “No”)—which is soon surprisingly reversed in terms of positive action—in contrast with an example of a perfect response for the same help (a “Yes”), but which does not ultimately fructify into action. Which one is to be believed and preferred: an imperfect response which surprisingly redeems itself in adequate action, or a perfect response, but one which does not result in proportionate action?

The “chief priests and elders”—at whom this and similar testing puzzles were often levelled—were shrewd enough to know that Jesus was critiquing their pretense at perfection, and worse, recognizing the personal value of the humbler class of “tax collectors, prostitutes and sinners”—abysmally lower in the perfection hierarchy! These social outcasts reached out to John the Baptist and Jesus for healing—but not the leaders of the tradition whom Jesus confronted.

At the heart of Christian spirituality is the wisdom that spiritual wellness or righteousness does not lie in perfection, but in compassion. If at all, the only perfection we are invited to mirror is the perfection (that is, the compassion) of God. In Mt. 5:48, Jesus reminds us to “be perfect, as your Heavenly Father is perfect”. The original Greek word for “perfect” is “teleios”, or “fully grown or mature”—not flawless or sinless, as we commonly understand the term today. Just as the Father “causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous” (Mt. 5:45), Jesus invites us to cultivate this Divine-like, spiritually mature and inclusive disposition towards others. He challenges us to “love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven” (Mt. 5:44).

The basic difference between perfection and compassion is that perfection—whether moral, religious, emotional, personal or professional—is almost invariably self-centered, whereas genuine compassion cannot but be outward-oriented. For a Christian, a successful (or socially perfect) life is not measured in terms of the riches we have inherited or achieved—education, material assets, reputation, power, merit—but in terms of the material and immaterial riches we have generously shared with others. More fundamentally, a believer is not expected to do work for God, but instead to do God’s work. The self and its obsessions get de-centered, and God’s will and the needs of the larger world become the focus of attention.

This Sunday the Church celebrates the World Day of Migrants and Refugees. Pope Leo has asked us to pray especially for migrant and refugee children. May these fellow pilgrims grow to enjoy a more perfect world of justice and peace, putting behind the pain and trauma often associated with their current journeys towards a better tomorrow.