I have noted my affliction with PDD -- pitch deficit disorder. It is easy for me to know that 2 musical tones are different, but not at all easy to decide which of them is pitched higher. Or lower. I seem to have no basis from which to make a judgement -- unless I can feel the notes in my chest or fingertips. In that case, the matter is relatively clear to me.
Another deficit that I have is prosopagnosia, or face-blindness. My limitation is significant enough that I typically identify people by their posture, typical gestures, voice, or (most unrealiably of all) their clothes and hair. This doesn't work well; that it works at all is surprising. Sometimes I will lose my grip on the plot of a movie simply because I'm not sure which character appeared in a scene.
Such perceptual deficits can be annoying. Potentially they could even become debilitating. But I think there is another kind of perceptual deficit which is more fundamentally debilitating. I think we often misperceive more deeply when we consider ourselves and our proper roles in the actual reality game.
When we play the game, we ought to compare ourselves with the highest model we have to emulate; for Christian players, that is Jesus of Nazareth. In fact, we are more likely to compare ourselves with his disciples: "I may not be emulating Jesus," I might say, "but at least I may be approaching the level of play shown by some of his disciples." (Perhaps, if I'm feeling honest, only the level shown by the disciples early in their training around Galilee.) Worse yet, I may be satisfied by comparing my level of play with the quality inferred for the early church members in Corinth: "The Corinthians were human just like me!" I exclaim. "At least I can play at actual reality as well as they did!"
The problem in this case is not that I misperceive my accomplishments -- although we should admit that undervaluing one's own virtues is not an uncommon error in the actual reality game. The more serious deficit is not adequately perceiving my potential in the game.
From such a misperception comes inadequate effort to play well. Indeed, the heart of the error is the perception that in some sense I am already playing well in comparison to what can be expected of me. If I perceive myself as having no greater potential than the limited accomplishments demonstrated by the Corinthians in the early days of their experience with Christianity, my objectives in the game will be too small. If I perceive myself as being limited to the accomplishments of the disciples shortly after they met Jesus, I condemn myself to never advancing beyond the level of a Christian sophomore.
One can correctly say, "I am no master in this game," without saying, "I can never master actual reality." One can say, "I feel like a mere beginner," without saying, "A small beginning is enough for me."
The one Wesleyan question is a puzzle to modern ears: "Do you expect to achieve perfection in this life?" But the next question about perfection should be a rallying cry for everyone who is playing the game: "Are you earnestly striving after it?"