Don't Throw Away the Scale
Dave Faust
After years of faithful service, our family's bathroom scale broke the other day. A spring inside must have snapped, for the dial suddenly registered about 300 pounds and wouldn't budge. I threw the scale away, but I was sad to see it go. Since the dial read "5 pounds" even when no one was standing on it, I figured it always overestimated my weight—which made it easier to feel light-hearted even after a heavy meal. Plus, our scale could make a person seem 10 pounds lighter if you simply leaned forward on your toes while standing on it. In the old scale's place now sits a sleek new model, which has the annoying characteristic of being completely accurate.
Daily life surrounds me with measuring devices. In my kitchen are measuring cups and spoons. In the garage are yardsticks and measuring tapes. In the car, there's a speedometer to measure my pace and a fuel gauge to monitor my gasoline level. Mile markers along the highway tell me how far I've driven. If I stop at a fast-food restaurant, the cook uses a little scale to measure the roast beef she puts on my sandwich—which is OK, since I'm not supposed to be measuring my fat grams anyway.
Measuring devices are quite useful, actually. If the supermarket threw away the scale, it would be hard to be sure you're getting a fair deal when you buy your fruit and vegetables. You wouldn't expect your doctor to say, "Just take a handful of these pills—it doesn't matter how many!"
One of my friends jokes that his favorite Bible verse is Exodus 16:36, which says, "An omer is one tenth of an ephah." Tedious texts about biblical measurements—ephahs and omers and cubits—don't send devotional shivers down your spine. Yet, verses like these tell us something important about God and his truth. God set down a clear, definite principle of measurement so the Hebrews would know how much manna to collect and save. One omer of manna per person—about two quarts—provided a day's allotment. Details like these seem minor to us, but the God of truth took such standards seriously. "Differing weights and differing measures—the Lord detests them both" (Proverbs 20:10).
We need God's standards more than ever in our day, when so much seems imprecise and some want to throw away the scale altogether. Moral boundaries are being pushed, bent, and broken with increasing abandon. Poorly taught Christians, ungrounded in the Word, fall prey to "hollow and deceptive philosophy" (Colossians 2:8). Jesus warned, "In the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you." But if we weigh someone's teachings on the scale of Scripture and reject unhealthy doctrines, we're not being judgmental; we're being wise. False teachers "introduce destructive heresies, even denying the sovereign Lord who bought them" (2 Peter 2:1). Good teachers point us to the well-balanced truth and love of Christ.
None of us measure up to God's perfect standards, but Jesus does, and the clear, unchanging message of salvation is the scale of truth we must never give up. Let's "not be carried away by all kinds of strange teachings," but instead let our hearts "be strengthened by grace" (Hebrews 13:9). Then we will grow up "to the whole measure of the fullness of Christ" (Ephesians 4:13), and join with the psalmist who said, "My mouth will tell . . . of your salvation all day long, though I know not its measure" (Psalm 71:15).
This column first appeared in The Lookout on May 7, 2000.
Don't Faint
From a medical perspective, fainting is a temporary loss of consciousness caused by a lessening of blood flow to the brain. It's never happened to me, but I've seen others faint at weddings, sports events, crowded concerts—even in church services.
Down in the Dumps
Ever since he was very young, my son Matt has enjoyed drawing cartoons and writing stories. By the time he was 10 years old, he had collected a pile of papers a foot thick, covered with everything from silly doodles to childlike but serious poetry. In fact, the pile had grown so large that my wife Candy insisted that he should sort through the papers and throw away everything he didn't need to keep.