The Scriptures uphold the principle of honest measures in all dealings: in commerce, relationships, and self-reflection.
In commerce, Leviticus makes it clear, “Do not cheat anyone by using false measures of length, weight, or quantity. Use honest scales, honest weights, and honest measures. I am the LORD your God, and I brought you out of Egypt.” Leviticus 19:35 GNT
The principle extends beyond the marketplace:
- With others: “Stop judging so that you will not be judged. For by the standard you judge, you will be judged. And with the measure you use will be the measure you receive.” Matthew 7:1-2
- With ourselves: “Test me, LORD, and see how I have lived. Look into my mind and see my thoughts.” Psalm 26:2
The Biblical principle encourages us to behave honestly and fairly in our business dealings, interactions with others, and even internally as we reflect on how we treat ourselves, applying consistent standards of truthfulness, kindness, and integrity across all aspects of life.
A Rabbinic story from Reb Zusya:
A student once asked, “Rebbe, you are known for your humility and honesty. How do you treat others so kindly and judge yourself with such care?”
Reb Zusya replied: “When I was a child in the marketplace, I noticed how the merchants were careful to use honest weights, for the Torah warns: ‘A perfect and just weight shalt thou have; a perfect and just measure shalt thou have; that thy days may be long upon the land which the LORD thy God giveth thee.’ Deuteronomy 25:15 How much more so, I thought, should we use honest scales when weighing another person’s deeds or our own!”
He added, “I try to see the best in others and judge their actions as gently as I am able. For myself, I must be careful not to excuse my own shortcomings by using lighter weights. Only by being fair in all my measures do I draw close to what God expects of me.”
I have been meditating on the principle of honest weights and measures lately.
Where am I rigging the scale?
As I sat with this, one word from Daniel 5 kept returning to me, “Tekel”, “you have been weighed on the balances and have not measured up.” Not the full judgement spoken of Belshazzar, but that one piercing word: weighed.
How often do you quietly condemn your own offerings as not measuring up?
Meditating on these thoughts, God showed how big that lie was. It isn’t a new lie. It isn’t a clever lie. But it is a comfortable lie.
The Holy Spirit revealed that I place my efforts on a rigged scale. This set of scales is weighted to reveal that my efforts have not measured up. They are weighted by my imposter syndrome, perfectionism, and need for external validation.
Secretly, I breathe in a sigh of relief. I can comfort myself with the thought that I gave it the ‘ole college try, and I can tuck it in the saved folder on my computer.
My rigged scales save me from failure. I don’t have to risk being vulnerable or being rejected.
I hear the Holy Spirit whisper an uncomfortable question to my spirit: “Would you accept this verdict from a friend or from a woman you were coaching?”
And then another more piercing question: “Who are you to declare common what the LORD has declared holy?”
I would not accept the verdict I delivered on my work from a friend or from a woman I coach.
Who am I to measure His work? My false humility is my attempt to take back control, fear cloaked in self-critique.
Jesus was asked, “Teacher, what is the greatest command?” To which he replied, “Love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbour as yourself.’ Notably, love is central to this teaching: love God, love neighbour.
What we often overlook is that contempt for ourselves is not humility. We are called to steward what God has entrusted to us with reverence, not dismissal.
Contempt for ourselves rarely stays contained; it leaks. It shows up in comparison, jealousy, and coveting. It whispers that someone else’s success is proof of our own insufficiency. It makes celebration difficult because another person’s gift feels like evidence of our lack.
When it comes to loving my neighbour, how can I be loving when I don’t know how to love myself? If my inner life is a mess, how can I represent Jesus’ love well?
Honest scales require truth. If every good and perfect gift is from the Father above (James 1:17), then the gifts in my life aren’t accidents to dismiss or diminish. They are assignments to steward.
Reverence for what God has entrusted to me is not pride. It is gratitude. Gratitude makes room for generosity. When I stop despising my own portion, I am finally free to celebrate yours.
The only thing for me to do is throw my scale away, open my closed fist, and whisper, “Your will be done.”