There is a familiar saying that hangs on coffee mugs, bumper stickers, and church bulletin boards: “Christians are not perfect, just forgiven.” It is simple, maybe even overused—but it is also profoundly true. Trying to live up to perfection by keeping the law is like trying to climb a greased flagpole—painful, pointless, and guaranteed to end badly. It does not matter which set of rules you pick—God’s law, your own moral code, or your grandmother’s house rules about elbows on the table. Eventually, we all fall short. Even the most self-disciplined person eventually breaks their own standards. Our internal “Do Not Cross” lines have tire marks all over them. Charles Spurgeon once said, “Too heavy is the burden to live by law; it demands bricks but does not give straw.” Law demands perfection but provides no power. It only hands out guilt—daily, hourly, relentlessly.
Paul understood this battle firsthand. In Romans chapter seven, he confesses his inner war: “I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I keep on doing.” Then, in a cry of exhausted honesty, he shouts, “O wretched man that I am!” That line deserves a standing ovation from every honest believer because we feel that same wretchedness. We set goals. We fail. We repent. We try harder. We fail again. It is like living on a moral treadmill—lots of sweat, but we never actually move. But Paul does not stop at despair. He bursts into relief: “Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!” Jesus did what the law could never do—He fulfilled it and then shared His righteousness with us. We are not just forgiven; we are wrapped in His perfection. Right now, inside these flawed, sin-bent bodies, believers carry a borrowed perfection—Christ’s perfection. But even sweeter is the hope ahead. Paul writes in Galatians 5:5, “For through the Spirit, by faith, we ourselves eagerly wait for the hope of righteousness.” Charles Noble once said, “You must have long-range goals to keep you from being frustrated by short-term failures.” That long-range goal, for believers, is glorification—becoming like Christ, fully and forever.
This truth is not just theology—it is soul therapy. Knowing I am already forgiven, even before I get everything right, gives me deep relief. I no longer have to live under the crushing pressure of perfectionism. I no longer have to pretend. And here is the good news—neither does anyone else. That changes the way I relate to people. If God loves and accepts me despite my failures, I can extend that same grace to others. Grace creates space for imperfect people to grow. Paul says in Romans 5:8, “While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” Saved by grace alone, through faith alone, we stumble, struggle, and sometimes limp—but we do so with hope. We are not perfect—but we will be. And until then, we walk in grace.