When I was younger, I remember telling my mother or my grandmother how much I loved them. In order to quantify that love and show them just how much I loved them, I would spread out my hands beyond the normal range of any shoulder and say, “I love you this much.” You can imagine that there was a little bit of grunting as I tried to spread my arms further and further apart. I was trying to measure my love.
Often times throughout my children’s lives, they will come up to me with a tape measure and ask, ‘How big am I daddy?” I don’t think it is the number that counts, just the measurement of length that is expressed by putting the end of the tap on the floor and stretching it to the top of their head. Seeing is believing for them when you simply say, “this many,” as you point to the spot on the tape. Children are fascinated by measurement.
Of course, there is always the proverbial “are we there yet?” or “when will we be there?” that begins at the very second you leave the driveway.
I could annoy you all – at least those of you who may know this song – by singing a song from the Broadway production Rent, “Seasons of Love.” It’s a great song that talks about measuring a day, a month, a year. 525,600 is the number of minutes in a year, but the question that is asked in the song is “how do you measure a year in a life.” If I could, I would add audio here, but believe me you would not stop singing it. I think I’ve ruined my night already.
But I’ve been thinking a lot about this issue of measurement a lot recently. I’ve talked about it in conversations in meetings with colleagues and even within the church. What is it that we are doing, and how is that measured in the church? Are we making an impact? Is what we are doing, what we should be doing? Sometimes we use the vision that is expressed as a way of measuring what we are doing. But I’ve been thinking about it even more – pressing the point. How do you measure what you have envisioned?
James Moore tells a story about measurement and our Sunday School Class read it this past weekend. In the story he is talking about a measuring stick.
Some years ago, there was a great professor at Centenary College named Dean Smith. Dean Smith was a saintly man, a brilliant scholar, an outstanding communicator, and a real friend to the students. In one of his famous lectures, Dean Smith talked to the students about how we discover truth and how we determine what is true and false.
After some discussion, Dean Smith suddenly asked the students this question: “how wide is my desk?” The students looked at the large desk and then made their best guesses. A variety of answers range out, “72 inches,” “looks like 75 to me,” “No, 68 inches.” Then Dean Smith said, “These are all pretty good guesses, but how do we figure out which one is most nearly true and accurate?” There was silence in the classroom for a moment, and then tentatively someone said, “Get a measuring stick?” “That’s right,” Dean Smith would say, “To determine which answer is closest to the truth, we have to get a measuring stick and measure.”
Then Dean Smith went to the blackboard. He took a piece of chalk, and in silence, he drew the outline of a cross. With that piece of chalk, he traced over and over the sign of the cross, letting it dramatically sink into the hearts and minds of the students. Then, he stood back and pointed to the cross and said, “Ladies and gentleman, there’s your measuring stick! There’s your measuring stick for truth!” (Moore, Rich in Things that Count the Most, pp 83-84.)
Regardless of whether it is a compass, a clock, a measuring tape or even a young child’s arms, there has to be something that can measure our actions, our truth, our love, our motives, and our lives. That measuring stick in my impression has to be Christ. Moreover, that measuring stick has to be used daily or we will veer off course, be steered in the wrong direction, shoot too far or even underestimate what we are doing. There has to be something by which we measure our life.
The Apostle Paul writes quite simply in his first letter of Corinthians, “For I resolved to know nothing while I was with you except Jesus Christ and him Crucified.” It was his measuring stick for ministry, preaching, teaching and loving. It was his measuring stick for everything that he did. I hope it can be yours too.
This week in worship, we will begin to prepare ourselves for Lent with Transfiguration Sunday. This is the Sunday immediately preceding the start of Lent. Remember that Ash Wednesday services are next week, we begin our Men’s Breakfasts, and on Sunday February 10th our Theology in Film Series begins. But until then, I look forward to seeing you soon.
Please pray for me, and know that I am praying for you.
Greg
Often times throughout my children’s lives, they will come up to me with a tape measure and ask, ‘How big am I daddy?” I don’t think it is the number that counts, just the measurement of length that is expressed by putting the end of the tap on the floor and stretching it to the top of their head. Seeing is believing for them when you simply say, “this many,” as you point to the spot on the tape. Children are fascinated by measurement.
Of course, there is always the proverbial “are we there yet?” or “when will we be there?” that begins at the very second you leave the driveway.
I could annoy you all – at least those of you who may know this song – by singing a song from the Broadway production Rent, “Seasons of Love.” It’s a great song that talks about measuring a day, a month, a year. 525,600 is the number of minutes in a year, but the question that is asked in the song is “how do you measure a year in a life.” If I could, I would add audio here, but believe me you would not stop singing it. I think I’ve ruined my night already.
But I’ve been thinking a lot about this issue of measurement a lot recently. I’ve talked about it in conversations in meetings with colleagues and even within the church. What is it that we are doing, and how is that measured in the church? Are we making an impact? Is what we are doing, what we should be doing? Sometimes we use the vision that is expressed as a way of measuring what we are doing. But I’ve been thinking about it even more – pressing the point. How do you measure what you have envisioned?
James Moore tells a story about measurement and our Sunday School Class read it this past weekend. In the story he is talking about a measuring stick.
Some years ago, there was a great professor at Centenary College named Dean Smith. Dean Smith was a saintly man, a brilliant scholar, an outstanding communicator, and a real friend to the students. In one of his famous lectures, Dean Smith talked to the students about how we discover truth and how we determine what is true and false.
After some discussion, Dean Smith suddenly asked the students this question: “how wide is my desk?” The students looked at the large desk and then made their best guesses. A variety of answers range out, “72 inches,” “looks like 75 to me,” “No, 68 inches.” Then Dean Smith said, “These are all pretty good guesses, but how do we figure out which one is most nearly true and accurate?” There was silence in the classroom for a moment, and then tentatively someone said, “Get a measuring stick?” “That’s right,” Dean Smith would say, “To determine which answer is closest to the truth, we have to get a measuring stick and measure.”
Then Dean Smith went to the blackboard. He took a piece of chalk, and in silence, he drew the outline of a cross. With that piece of chalk, he traced over and over the sign of the cross, letting it dramatically sink into the hearts and minds of the students. Then, he stood back and pointed to the cross and said, “Ladies and gentleman, there’s your measuring stick! There’s your measuring stick for truth!” (Moore, Rich in Things that Count the Most, pp 83-84.)
Regardless of whether it is a compass, a clock, a measuring tape or even a young child’s arms, there has to be something that can measure our actions, our truth, our love, our motives, and our lives. That measuring stick in my impression has to be Christ. Moreover, that measuring stick has to be used daily or we will veer off course, be steered in the wrong direction, shoot too far or even underestimate what we are doing. There has to be something by which we measure our life.
The Apostle Paul writes quite simply in his first letter of Corinthians, “For I resolved to know nothing while I was with you except Jesus Christ and him Crucified.” It was his measuring stick for ministry, preaching, teaching and loving. It was his measuring stick for everything that he did. I hope it can be yours too.
This week in worship, we will begin to prepare ourselves for Lent with Transfiguration Sunday. This is the Sunday immediately preceding the start of Lent. Remember that Ash Wednesday services are next week, we begin our Men’s Breakfasts, and on Sunday February 10th our Theology in Film Series begins. But until then, I look forward to seeing you soon.
Please pray for me, and know that I am praying for you.
Greg
