Last year, as an undergraduate professor at a local university, I said something I never thought I would say to my students. I told them I didn’t care about typos or punctuation or grammar in their initial assignment submissions. I told them that I really just wanted to know their own thoughts and ideas about what we were learning in class. With the rise and proliferation of AI tools over the past few years, it was clear to me that some of my students were resorting to these tools for completing their class assignments. As a result, even though I believe developing good writing skills is an important part of a college education, I actually started being glad when a student turned in a paper with a lot of grammatical errors and awkwardly worded sentences in it because at least I could be reasonably sure it was their own work. (Now there is even software that will “humanize” text that is generated by AI!)
If student learning is the main goal of teaching a class, then nothing is worse for a teacher than a student turning in work that is not their own. It completely sabotages the learning process that a teacher works so hard to give to their students. Education is fundamentally about filling gaps in one’s knowledge, developing skills that one does not yet possess, and increasing one’s aptitude in particular areas. As a teacher, I work hard to develop a program of instruction that will effectively guide a student through a process where these changes will take place. However, the program only works if the student brings their authentic self to the process. Without honesty about one’s present reality (one’s current knowledge, skills and aptitude), the instructional program becomes a performative charade.
The same is true for our spiritual lives. I wonder if God sometimes feels like an instructor having to deal with students who turn in assignments written by AI. He wants more than anything to help us increase in love, grow in our capacity to care for others, and develop greater spiritual awareness and sensitivity. But when we deliberately try to cover up our weaknesses and imperfections, we sabotage the whole transformational process.
Why would a student decide to pay good money for college and then use AI to complete their assignments? Because real learning is difficult and vulnerable. It takes an investment of time and energy. It takes hard work. It also takes trust in the process and trust in the teacher. It takes trying and failing. It takes making mistakes. It takes honestly facing one’s deficiencies or weaknesses in certain areas so that growth and improvement can take place. Since real learning is often difficult and uncomfortable, the possibility of getting some of the rewards of learning (a good grade, respect from others, more money, a promotion, etc.) without all the struggle can be very enticing. Yet, in the end, that decision costs the student the opportunity for real learning and change in that area.
When it comes to the spiritual life, I think one of the main reasons we might decide not to readily and honestly share the things we are struggling with (sins, doubts, confusions, hurts, etc.) is that we fear condemnation from God or others. It is difficult for us to trust that God cares about our learning and growth process more than our performance, and so we do our best to hide what’s really there from God, others, or even ourselves.
About 20 years ago, when I was a student at Fuller Seminary, I took a class called “Henri Nouwen: A Spirituality of Imperfection.” The class was taught by a recent PhD graduate, Wil Hernandez, who did his doctoral work on Henri Nouwen (a man widely regarded as one of the greatest Christian spiritual writers and teachers of the last century). Hernandez summarized Nouwen’s approach to the spiritual life as “a spirituality of imperfection.” By that he meant that the brokenness and weakness we all experience as human beings doesn’t have to be a barrier to our communion with God. In fact, it can be the opposite. It can be a gift in that it helps us to recognize our need for and dependence upon God’s grace, and it can become a gateway in that it provides the context for an authentic experience of God’s salvation, freedom, and glory.(1)
This idea of a spirituality of imperfection has radically altered how I think about my relationship with God. It shifts the focus from simply trying to perform well for God and others to embracing an honest process of growth and change where I let God see my real work – typos, awkward sentences and all! Through this honest and open communication, revelations of personal weaknesses and problems become blessings because they open the door to real experiences of God’s transforming love and power.
The key for me to make that shift in my life has been learning to trust God as the best possible teacher. God is not a harsh judge, critiquing my actions against His standards of holiness at a distance and then issuing corresponding commendations or chastisements. Above all, God is a patient teacher who comes alongside to help me notice areas of weakness and brokenness in my life in order for me to know where best to focus my energy and attention as an active participant in the learning process.
Romans 8:1-2
Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit who gives life has set you free from the law of sin and death.
(1)Wil Hernandez, Henri Nouwen: A Spirituality of Imperfection (Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 2006), Chapter Five.
About the Author
Aaron is a passionate seeker of God and truth, and he enjoys encouraging others in their own pursuits of the same. He especially likes to think about how God is at work in the most ordinary and mundane aspects of our existence. He loves going on adventures to new places with his wife, Heather, and four kids and his perfect day would involve an excellent cup of coffee (or two!), a hike to somewhere beautiful and serene, and some good conversation over a pint at a warm pub. He currently serves as an adjunct instructor at Portland Seminary and co-leads the CitySalt Kids’ Ministry along with his wife, Heather.