Boys and girls,

You are growing up. There are many ways of measuring that growth. One of you come up here for a moment. Let me measure you to see how tall you are. (Measure someone.) Here's something all of us can do. I read that in Borneo years ago, children were considered old enough to go to school if they could reach over their heads and touch the opposite ear. Can you do that. Let's try it. That's another way to measure your growth. The most important kind of growth is spiritual growth. That is, are you growing into the kid of person God is pleased with. That's much harder to measure. For example, are you a kind person? Do you share with others? Are you honest? Do you try to do what's right always? These are ways of measuring spiritual growth. I'm sad to say that there are people who are six feet tall, who are still spiritual babies. That makes God very sad. His will is for us to grow--mentally, physically, and spiritually. Two out of three isn't good enough. He wants us to be the very best we can be in every way.

A little girl who grew up in an atheistic home where no one ever spoke of God once questioned her father about the origin of the world. “Where does the world come from?” asked the three-year-old.

Her father replied with a discourse that was materialistic in nature. Then he added, “However, there are those who say that all this comes from a very powerful being, and they call him God.”

At this point the little girl began to run like a whirlwind around the room in a burst of joy and exclaimed, “I knew what you told me wasn’t true; it is Him, it is Him!”

—Sofia Cavalletti, The Religious Potential of the Child (Paulist Press, 1983)

The story is told of an elderly grandfather who was very wealthy. Because he was going deaf, he decided to buy a hearing aid. Two weeks later he stopped at the store where he had bought it and told the manager he could now pick up conversation quite easily, even in the next room. “Your relatives must be happy to know that you can hear so much better,” beamed the delighted proprietor.

“Oh, I haven’t told them yet,” the man chuckled. “I’ve just been sitting around listening—and you know what? I’ve changed my will twice!”

God is not like a dear old grandfather who hears only when we speak clearly and directly to him. He always hears us. And his attitude toward us is not changed by what he hears, because we stand before him by grace. But if God were like that grandfather—and if his attitude toward us were changeable—how would your conversations of the past week have affected his attitude toward you?

King Louis XIV of France, who preferred to be called “Louis the Great” and had declared, “I am the State!” died in 1717. His court was the most magnificent in Europe, and his funeral was the most spectacular.

In the church where the ceremony was performed, his body lay in a golden coffin. To dramatize his greatness, orders had been given that the cathedral would be very dimly lit with only one special candle that was to be set above the coffin.

The thousands of people in attendance waited in silence. Then Bishop Massillon began to speak. Slowly reaching down, he snuffed out the candle and said, “Only God is great.”