I've been 6’2 3/4” for a long time.  More than half my life actually.  My driver’s license says I’m 6’ 3” because that’s what I told them.  The basketball roster in high school said I was 6’ 4” because that’s what we wanted the other team to believe.  It’s what I wanted to believe.  Yet no amount of hanging from the door frame would lengthen my body.  I can put my boots on and the stick at the doctor’s office will read 6’ 4”, but my bones, tip to toe are 6’ 2 3/4.”  

But somewhere my rounding became fact.  It’s simpler to tell people I’m 6’ 3” than it is to get precise.  It’s a rounding decision in service of another, right?  

My son asked me about some detail from the Sunday sermon.  I don’t remember the specifics, but the detail fit naturally in the illustration. As a point of precision, it was inaccurate.  In the context of the sermon, this detail was immaterial and was in service of another, larger theme.  It’s a rounding decision in service of another, right?  

The precision of my height printed on the basketball roster didn’t change my ability to score unfortunately and the detail in the sermon illustration doesn’t change the truth of the gospel, so I wonder what it matters.  

It matters because somewhere the story of my height became real.  The fact didn’t change, but what I believed did. 

This is the subtle deception of sin: what’s true and what’s real are clouded. The great deceiver is too cunning for whole mistruths.  Rather, lies sneak in under the cloak of truth, creating enough certainty to allow deception to sneak in. 

Just like the ruler at my doctor's office, standard of truth is needed.  And just like the ruler at my doctor's office, it's only helpful if I use it. This is the heart of the Scriptures: calibration for the world; a plumb line for truth.