By Drake Hunter | Commentary, Rocky Mountain Voice
Jack be nimble. Jack be quick. Jack jump over the candlestick.
As children, we rarely stop to think about what this little rhyme means. We simply picture a boy leaping over a candlestick with speed, courage, and just enough daring to make us smile. Maybe that’s why it has endured for generations. Every child dreams of jumping over something exciting.
I know I did.
Growing up in Southern California during Evel Knievel’s heyday was nothing short of inspiring. Every bicycle became a motorcycle, every curb became a canyon, and every homemade plywood ramp became another opportunity to attempt the impossible. Like millions of other boys, I dreamed of flying through the air, sticking the landing, and hearing the applause. Evel wasn’t just a stuntman—he embodied courage, confidence, and the belief that no obstacle was too great to overcome.
Looking back, I realize I admired more than his bravery. I admired his confidence. If we had today’s expressions back then, I probably would have said Evel was “all that and a bag of Doritos—with a Mountain Dew on the side.” Truth be told, there came a season when I thought I was too.
After two decades in the United States Air Force, I retired believing I had life pretty well figured out. I’d led people, solved difficult problems, worn the First Sergeant’s diamond, and earned the respect of those around me. Experience had given me confidence—perhaps more confidence than wisdom.
Then life happened.
In what seemed like a very short time, everything I believed was secure began to unravel. Emotionally, mentally, relationally, and financially, I found myself bankrupt. The foundation I thought was sincere maturity proved much more fragile than I had imagined. It wasn’t simply a difficult season; it was a deeply humbling one. God was revealing something I couldn’t see on my own.
For years, I thought maturity meant becoming more capable. God showed me it meant becoming more sincere and complete.
Not long afterward, I came across a profound insight from Dr. Henry Cloud in Changes That Heal. He explains that each of us begins life as a little person living in a big person’s world. We are born under the care, authority, and guidance of others, but God’s design is that we gradually grow into mature men and women who can wisely govern our own lives. Institutions like the military can teach discipline, responsibility, and leadership, but they cannot produce the kind of maturity Jesus describes. That kind of wholeness is the work of God. Cloud’s insight helped me recognize what the Lord had been doing in my own life all along. He wasn’t trying to humiliate me through hardship. He was patiently growing me into the man He created me to become.
That brings us to one of the most misunderstood commands Jesus ever gave:
“Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.” (Matthew 5:48)
Most people hear the word “perfect” and immediately think of “flawless”. We assume Jesus demands moral perfection, and because we know ourselves too well, we either become discouraged or settle for pretending—trying to appear more put-together than we really are.
But the word Jesus uses means something far richer. It speaks of maturity, completeness, integrity, and wholeness. It describes a person whose life has become fully aligned with God’s heart. Jesus isn’t calling us to become flawless performers or polished hypocrites. He is inviting us to become mature sons and daughters who sincerely reflect the character of their heavenly Father.
Sincerity, then, is much more than simply being genuine. It is the beautiful alignment of a life fully surrendered to God’s authority. Our culture celebrates authenticity, but authenticity can still revolve around the self. Biblical sincerity goes much deeper. It is the harmony of our thoughts, emotions, choices, body, relationships, and spirit, all moving together under the loving leadership of God. It is the steady wholeness of a mature soul that remains true regardless of circumstances.
As children, we measure greatness by how high we can jump. As adults, we often measure greatness by titles, accomplishments, influence, or success. Jesus measures greatness differently. He measures it by maturity. Sincere maturity, that is!
That is why His command to “Be perfect” stands at the theological hinge of the Sermon on the Mount. It is not the beginning of a new lesson but the climax of everything He has just taught and the bridge into everything that follows. After calling us to master our desires, our words, our rights, and even our response to our enemies, Jesus invites us into something greater than behavior modification. He invites us into wholeness. The word perfect speaks of becoming spiritually mature—our thoughts, emotions, choices, relationships, and actions (our soul) brought into harmony under the loving authority of our heavenly Father. This is the weapon of sincerity.
Only from that place of maturity do the next commands make complete sense. Only mature disciples can practice righteousness in secret without craving recognition. Only mature disciples can give quietly, pray faithfully, fast humbly, and lay up treasures in heaven without needing applause. Until the heart becomes whole, spiritual disciplines easily become spiritual performances.
Jesus always calls us to become before He calls us to do. First, He forms the person. Then He teaches that person how to live. Jack may have learned to jump over the candlestick, but Jesus teaches us something far greater.
He teaches us how to grow up sincerely.
As always… God is here. God is able. God is good.
Pastor Drake
I’ll be continuing this conversation later this week on the Just Sayin’ podcast, where we’ll take a deeper look at The Sincerity Weapon: Jack Be Nimble.
Editor’s note: Opinions expressed in commentary pieces are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of the management of the Rocky Mountain Voice, but even so, we support the constitutional right of the author to express those opinions.