It’s graduation season again and it’s wonderful to see our young people completing various phases of their educational journeys. From preschool through advanced degrees, it’s time for tassels and diplomas.
During these festivities, I’m reminded of my own school experiences. One in particular comes to mind from high school trigonometry class. Coach John Lee was our animated and excellent instructor and walked many of us through upper level math.
One day as we were working problems, he was circulating throughout the room overseeing our work and answering questions. As he walked by my desk and glanced down at my paper, he asked, “Why are you so sloppy? What can’t you be neater like your father?”
I shared with him that while I was never recognized for penmanship, neither was my dad. His reply referred to dad’s exquisite, detailed, and exacting taxidermy work and he assumed that carried over to his writing as well. It did not.
As we concluded that conversation, Mr. Lee remarked about how my sheet of trigonometry exercises resembled something a raccoon had drug his behind across. Needless to say, that went down in my memory as a cherished compliment from a beloved teacher.
Sadly, my legibility has not improved since high school and has probably gone in the other direction. Thankfully, another teacher, Mrs. Sue Lantz, taught me to type which has become my primary means of written communication yielding a readable alternative.
As I’ve reflected on this humorous comparison, it reminds me of how sloppy many of us become about spiritual things. Too often we take God’s grace for granted and give Him sloppy worship, sloppy behavior, sloppy obedience, sloppy theology, and sloppy Christianity.
We can and should be very thankful for God’s abundant mercy, but that should never tempt us to give Him our seconds. He is high and holy and deserves the best of everything from us. Tossing Him leftovers of our time, efforts, and energy falls far beneath what His excellence warrants.
When my son visited a European cathedral, he was told of an artist commissioned to carve the intricate woodwork. When someone asked the craftsman why he took such great pains to perfect the back side of an ornamentation which no one would ever see, he remarked, “God will see it.”
In our hurried culture, I fear we often take the exact opposite approach. We even neglect to give proper time and attention to what we openly present to God. While our worship is usually observed by others, it is not for them. It’s for Him. As such, it demands our very best of thought, prayer, concentration, and effort in spirit and in truth.
We also owe it to our Savior to discover and apply what His words mean that we might not become sloppy in our theology. While He hears and answers spontaneous prayers, it also benefits us and honors Him when we take some time to consider what we will say to Him and how we will say it. And when we witness to non-believers, Christ’s sacrifice and their eternity deserve our best presentations of the Gospel.
Most of the finest art and music of previous generations was painted, sculpted, carved, composed, and performed by believers who wanted to glorify God with the very best they had. Doing something just “good enough” was never an option or even a consideration. Nor should it be for us.
God has given us His very best in the life, death, and resurrection of His Son. While we are not repaying Him for this gift (nor could we ever) it does call for our finest in order to thank and honor the Giver.
As the graduates cross their stages and turn their tassels this graduation season, may this lesson from my trigonometry class remind us that God deserves our best.
Blessings, George