In the Sermon on the Mount Jesus commands His disciples with a charge that has never stopped to unsettle: “ Be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect ” ( Matthew 5: 48 ). The word lands like a stone thrown into still water. Circles of interpretation ripple outward. How? In what manner? By what conceivable standard? Thirteen chapters later, the answer arrives—not as an abstraction, not as a philosophical treatise, but as a parable about a king, a debt, and a man who could not do what had been done for him (Matthew 18: 21–35). The perfection Jesus spoke of on the mountain now has a name, a shape, and a practice. It is mercy . Christian perfection is not the perfection of the philosopher—the cold ideal untouched by human frailty. It is the perfection of the Father who “makes the sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust” (Matthew 5: 45). Divine perfection is not distance from the wounded. It is inexhaustible movement toward them. Mercy...
Learning undeniably builds one’s intelligence. Learning is difficult, and real scholarship is rare. As we undergo studies, we ourselves ask, when will I get done with it: assignments, exams, dissertations, presentation and so on. And we dismiss any further learning, saying, learning is only for the most intelligent and strongest. But history proves otherwise. People who have stayed with something long enough, arrives—it is true with education too. Think of Charles Darwin . He was not considered a brilliant student. His own father fed up of him, once seems to have said, he cares for nothing but hitting stray dogs and catching rats. Darwin himself has said that his teachers and father considered him to be 'a very ordinary boy, rather below the common standard in intellect. And yet, this ordinary boy developed the habit of noticing. He watched. He asked questions no one else thought to ask. He kept writing down what he noticed as a boy. And He gave the evolutionary world one of its m...