You have laid before us a petition for your daughter’s honor. Let us examine what honor is, for you ask that she be lifted up, that she excel in her learning and graduate with distinction. This desire is born of a parent’s love, a love that mirrors what a true teacher feels for his disciples, for we watch for souls as those who must give account. But consider: when anxiety grips her heart and her knowledge flees in the hour of testing, what is the root of that fear? Is it not often the very love of praise and the dread of falling short in the eyes of others? You see the mischief born from seeking honor from beholders: anxiety, which is greater than the pleasure. She decks herself with this care for her reputation, and the exam becomes a contest not of learning, but of pride, and in that contest she wounds herself.
Do not think I speak against diligence. To apply the mind and to be a faithful steward of one’s gifts is good. Yet when the soul’s peace is tied to the record of a grade, the foundation is sand. He that is truly high is the one who knows what man is, and knows that he himself is last of all. This one reckons honor from God as great, and is not cast down when earthly distinction wavers. The boastful one accounts the givers of earthly honor to be nothing, yet reckons the honor itself to be everything, and so is tossed about by every wind of success or failure. Your daughter has studied, you say, and done well. This is her true work. The fruit of that work belongs to God. When she walks into that examination, let her consider herself not a performer seeking the applause of a crowd, but a rational creature offering her labor to her Maker. When we open our eyes to gaze on the light of the sun, we do no favor to that star. So also, when we honor God by doing our duty simply and without grasping for a result, we receive the delight ourselves, to our own salvation.
Therefore, pour in encouragement like oil after a sharp word is given. Do not stoke the fire of worldly ambition by saying, “You must be lifted up,” for that sword cuts the soul. Instead, remind her that a citizen of Heaven who has the philosophy that is above does not disgrace herself with him that minds earthly things, comparing transcripts and ranks. Spare herself this insult, not the world. Honor herself, not the examiner’s mark. Strive that she may say with the Apostle, we did not seek glory from men. Let her prepare her mind with the same diligence with which Priscilla and Aquila labored with Paul, not as those who flatter for gain, but as helpers in the work. And if the honor of high marks comes, let her wear it loosely, as a garment that soon will perish, knowing its anxiety and care bring no advantage. If it is delayed, let her stand fast, for her standing is not in a number, but in the Lord, and that is our true crown of rejoicing. Pray then, not merely that she be lifted up among her peers, but that she, fearing nothing, may render a good account of the mind God has given her, and so honor Him. For them that honor Him, He will honor.