When I quit the seminary and got a job, my company had me train in Tacoma and then I stayed on as the assistant manager there for a while. What was amazing that it only took me four days to find an apartment that met all my requirements. It had to be in a decent neighborhood, not more than a 15 minute drive from work, $600 a month or less, and within walking distance of a few bars. What was the real selling point was the view. I could see Vashon Island, the ferry, cargo ships headed into the port, and on a clear day Mt. Ranier.

Driving around town there were countless spots where you can round a corner and see the mountain towering over the city. Every time I saw Mt. Rainer it would bring a smile to my face. I even did some hiking on the mountain with a buddy, but we had to head back down a little early due to an incoming storm.

One day it all of a sudden hit me, what makes Mt. Rainer beautiful is it’s imperfections. It’s a giant, jagged, broken volcano. Mt. Rainer’s mere existence is the result of a rupture in the earth’s crust caused by the Cascadia subduction fault. The same forces that have created this beautiful mountain periodically (every 400+ years) cause earthquakes that at their weakest are on par with the one that just happened in Japan. The very mountain that is the highlight of the beauty of the Puget Sound region will some day erupt and may destroy it. Mt. Rainer is one of the world’s largest imperfections and one of it’s most beautiful features.

From a technical standpoint Iowa would be perfect. Flat arable land, no need for irrigation since it rains in the summer time, no volcanoes, minimal risk of earthquakes, technically perfect. However, I wouldn’t want to live there under any conditions. The northwest on the other hand has jagged peaks, massive fault lines, huge volcanoes, and bone dry summers. From a technical standpoint the western US is horribly flawed, but there isn’t any place I would rather live.

This also applies to people. A completely flawless, beautiful woman looks fake. Even the slightest of imperfections, a mole or small scar, for example, makes her more beautiful, if for no other reason than it makes her seem more real and approachable.

In my general psych class in college we all had to make “genograms,” basically you chart out all of your grandparents, aunts, uncles, parents, and siblings with any health problems, mental illnesses, drug addictions, marriages, divorces, etc. By the time I had mine done I was struggling to make everything fit. After the teacher had time to look at everybody’s he called up one student to pick on, it was the kid who had the cleanest genogram. He was an only child, his parents were both only children, nobody had gotten divorced, and nobody had any mental or medical issues or addictions. His was completely clean. The professor asked if he was leaving something out, the student insisted that it was complete. So he was asked how he possibly could have learned any coping skills that might help him survive life as an adult. As it turns out, those of us who could barely fit everything on the page were the lucky ones. A perfect family and a perfect childhood isn’t good.

These are just a few examples, but as it turns out perfection is far from perfect. It’s no wonder I never found the idea of heaven to be appealing.