If I had it to do over again, I probably would’ve majored in something other than Journalism. In particular, I would’ve looked for the best school in the country that offered a degree program in, say, Sky Hook. As in basketball. As in the shot that put Lew Alcindor, aka Kareem Abdul Jabbar, in the stratosphere of NBA records with a career point total of 38,387. Best part about being the all-time points leader (or record-holder for home runs, touchdowns, long jump, or hot dog eating) is not all the accolades. Or the throngs of adoring fans. Or the scads of fat endorsement deals. No, the greatest part of being a record holder, is that it's real.
There’s no subjectivity about Jabbar’s accomplishments. You don’t hear people arguing about who has scored the most points in NBA history. He doesn’t wake up and wonder “Was I a good player? Did I really accomplish anything on the court?” His resume is measurable, provable, and indisputable.
But how does that translate to the matters a little closer to the heart? What are the metrics used for determining my effectiveness at serving people other than myself? What is the gauge I use for measuring my love for God? How do I know how good of a dad I am? If it’s a ‘feel’ thing, fine. But what if I ‘feel’ different about my performance than those I supposedly serve? Or my kids. Or God.
I actually think about this sort of thing a lot. And through careful consideration I’ve actually discovered a formula for measuring the immeasurable. The formula is, throw out the formula. There is no formula. Which, as I see it, is awful news. Because it means that the only way to engage in any sort of meaningful evaluation of my life is for me to be (ugh) relational. As appalling as the idea is, I have to sit down with those who know me well – God, my friends, my wife and kids, and even myself – and ask what they see in my life. Even the results of those conversations are often muddled, and can leave me somewhat conflicted.
I find it both maddening and intriguing that the areas in which God has called me to be most prolific – loving him and others – he has given no clear cut means of evaluation. No barometer, no scoreboard, no blood test. Maybe that’s so that I won’t be able to compare my godliness to yours. Perhaps, it is so I’ll be forced to wade into the messy waters of prayer, introspection, and relationships. I suspect it is mostly because, like God himself, those things are infinitely complex and impossible to fully define.
Probably just as well. After all, vagueness and ambiguity are the lifeblood of any good liberal arts major.
(on a related note – if you liked this entry, feel free to qualify your opinion on a scale from, say, 8 ½ – 10, in the comments section. If you didn’t care for it, keep it to yourself…because, honestly, can that sort of thing even really be defined?)
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