When It’s Better to Pass than Get an A

“freedom watch” 2024, part 2

I chose a guiding word for 2024—the word freedom. It’s a word I’m confident we’ll hear a lot on the campaign trail in the United States. The word means something different to me than it does as a political slogan, but what does it mean? 

I’ll be reflecting on the word freedom here in the Blue Room every so often this year, to see how it’s guiding and challenging my life. Here’s the second installment.

One of the requirements to become a Minister of Word and Sacrament (pastor) in the Presbyterian Church (USA) is called the Bible Content Exam. Nicknamed “Bible trivia,” it’s a multiple choice test meant to assess one’s basic knowledge of scripture. 

Useful to know offhand.

Doesn’t come up often.

This is not a post about the utility of a multiple-guess exam as a precursor to ministry. This is a post about a time I screwed up, but not in the way you might think.

Consider this a parable of sorts:

Typically, ministry candidates take the BCE during their first year of seminary. This allows for group study sessions and the like, with lots of past exams available to provide both practice opportunities and flash-card fodder. I put a lot of time into it, studying both on my own and with a group of friends. I don’t remember everyone in my group, but I’m certain my seminary ride-or-die, Elizabeth, was there, as she was for most of my adventures at Columbia (and a number of exploits since). 

At the time, and maybe still, there was a bit of a stigma attached to failing the exam—at the very least, you might get some good-natured ribbing from your classmates. But even setting that aside, nobody wants to deal with that annoyance twice, so there’s a lot of motivation to pass the first time. And all one needs to do is pass: 70%.

When the results came out (why do objective, non-essay tests have such a lag time for scoring?), I recall we all approached one another tentatively, wanting to share our relief if we passed while being respectful of the feelings of a colleague who’d need to retake it.

My ride-or-die got a 72. 
I got a 91.

Since this is a parable, I will ask a question, like Jesus often did: 

Which of us approached the Bible Content Exam rightly?
…The one who studied so hard and so long she got a grade that was 21 points higher than necessary? 
…Or the one who did exactly what was required and no more… which meant time for more important things, and maybe even for some fun, which is also more important than getting an A on a pass-fail exam?

I remember bursting out laughing when Elizabeth told me her score. You nailed it! I said with admiration. She gave that test the precise amount of bandwidth it deserved, and not a second beyond that. Such panache. 

Like this, but not an a**hole

The story has become legend in our friendship, and is certainly a window into our personalities and just one reason she’s such a valuable presence in my life. To be clear, Elizabeth knows how to work hard—she’s held just about every kind of position in the church, including the closest thing we have to a local “bishop,” she serves on a number of boards, and runs a bookstore, for crying out loud. But it’s a real gift to be able to calibrate one’s efforts toward what’s actually required, realizing that much of life is a pass-fail experience.

I recently read a story about Yvon Chouinard, founder of Patagonia, a company known for its environmentalism. Chouinard estimates that the company has gotten, say, 92% of the way toward ethical and environmental sustainability. Why not go for 100%? Because they’ve reached the point of diminishing returns. It could take double the resources to get from 92 to 93, for example, let alone 100. They’re still interested in researching and innovating as materials and processes improve, but they’ve determined that great enough is great enough.¹

As mentioned, my word for the year is freedom. Right now freedom leads me to reflect on the time I spend, grinding my way from 92% to 93%, and how I can let that go. I’m a One on the Enneagram, so I never met a self-improvement project I didn’t like and a project I couldn’t execute the hell out of, but I suspect I’m not alone in pursuing perfection, or even just excellence, when a passing grade is fine… and much more humane for myself and others. 

As a wise 81 year old president likes to say, don’t compare me to the almighty, compare me to the alternative. We spend time comparing ourselves, and one another, to the almighty. To perfection. And a lot of that is in bad faith, especially online, when people pick apart every deficit in the other person, usually as a way of absolving themselves of their own lack of action. As if we aren’t, every one of us, hypocrites in some way or another. I believe Jesus had something to say about folks who tweet about the speck in their neighbor’s eye while ignoring the log in their own. Don’t buy it… and don’t grade yourself on the same curve that Internet trolls would.

But MaryAnn, you may be objecting. Tests are one thing, but when it comes to people, we should give them our best. Our best attention. Our best efforts. I mean on one level, sure—my kids, my spouse, my parishioners, are all more valuable than a pass-fail ordination hurdle. And maybe some of us need to be urged to lean in more. But don’t discount the value of simply showing up and being your splendidly imperfect self. Believing that I am enough has been the source of great freedom.

Steady on.

~

Your Turn

• A coaching client, recently in a new pastoral position, was recently told by a colleague that much of ministry can and should be done at 75%—otherwise we’re liable to burn out. How do you react to this idea?

• Does letting good enough be good enough feel like freedom, or something else?

1. I heard this story from Dan Blank, who is paraphrasing the story—not sure the exact percentages Yvon Chouinard uses.