Bleary-eyed and with blurry vision from a day spent inputting data into various tables and charts, I am acutely aware of how our lives are made up of numbers. Pupils in a school are identified by a candidate number, a UCI (unique candidate indicator, which is not so unique considering all the other numbers I am dealing with!), and a ULN (unique learner number… refer to previous comment!) before their names feature in importance. GCSE results are measured in numbers (raw marks, scaled marks, UMS) before they are translated into grades (which for the moment remain as letters, but with the new system about to be unleashed on schools will mean more numbers…) Those results are linked to individual papers and controlled assessments, themselves identified by all manner of numbers. Then we have percentages for the league tables: ‘added value’ and ‘progress eight’ are all measurements designed to indicate a pupil’s progress and the progress of the school they have attended. I am drowning in numbers…
These numbers do reveal stories, but you have to dig deep for them. Has the pupil just scraped into the grade boundary or are they lurking at the top of it, almost into a higher grade? Can those numbers ever truly capture the hard work that has gone on beforehand? What about the pupils who feel relegated and useless because their numbers don’t match someone else’s? What does it mean to be ‘above average’ or ‘below average’? Can the mere fact of statistical means and standard deviations ever hope to reflect individual work or worth?
The Bible assures us that God knows us by name (Is 43:1), even numbers the hairs on our head (Matt 10:30) and is the One who knows every thought, word and action (Ps 139:1-5). Far from merely being a statistic to Him, we are loved personally and individually (see Rev 2:17). No tear we shed is wasted and one day He will wipe every tear away. (Rev 7:17) Our value and worth to Him are not dependent on our achievements, nor can they be measured in the way that academic achievement is measured. We matter so much to God that He sent His only Son to die for us. (John 3:16) Such facts quieten our restless, fearful hearts and enable us to see with true perspective.
Spare a thought for all the pupils who will gain exam results tomorrow and for the staff who have laboured hard to teach them, often in difficult circumstances, and for parents who often feel inadequate and fearful as they seek to help their children in a competitive world which can seem terribly hostile. Pray for humility in rejoicing and perspective in sorrow. Most of all, let’s pray that all will understand something of individual worth and value, which will not be recorded anywhere on those results’ slips handed out tomorrow, but which remains engraved on the hands of a Saviour who bled and died for us.