Generous Capacity
The new C8 Corvette puts up big numbers: an 11.3-second quarter mile, 495 horsepower, staggered wheels with 305-mm section width in the rear, and a scandalously low MSRP almost as low as its 18.5-inch center of gravity. But perhaps the most important number is two, as in, the total amount of golf club sets that can fit in the rear trunk.
The mid-engined Corvette, beast of burden that it is, had a design brief that mandated accommodation of two sets of golf clubs. Chevrolet designers succeeded and are celebrated for this. Really, they should be. It’s an amazing accomplishment for a mid-engined sports car, especially one that competes with entry level supercars. Maybe Chevy should launch an ad campaign showing the C8 breaking unique automotive world records: Quickest Lap at The ‘Ring/Grattan/Virginia International Raceway with Two Sets of Golf Clubs in the Trunk, Highest Velocity Ever Achieved by Two Sets of Golf Clubs in a Passenger Car’s Trunk, Gnarliest Burnout Engulfing Two Sets of Golf Clubs in a Trunk.
Really, the C8 Corvette’s cargo capacity is just one more of its performance envelope. If you own a C8 and don’t completely fill that trunk from time to time, you’re not getting all you can out of the car.
Humans are a lot like the C8 Corvette. Your heart was built by God to be big enough to hold people you love, flexible enough to extend compassion to strangers and people who need it, and powerful enough to forgive people even when you really don’t want to. Your heart is part of your performance envelope, and if you haven’t been using it to its full potential lately, read Paul’s encouragement in 1 Corinthians:
“If I speak in the tongues of men and of angles, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing.” (1 Corinthians 13:1-3)
Paul ends his encomium with this famous line: “And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love” (v. 13). Suddenly, your performance envelope becomes reprioritized. Love is supposed to be the motivating factor behind everything else that you feel is important to do. For Paul, this was preaching, seeking wisdom, faith and perseverance, social service, and self-sacrifice. He was already doing plenty of these things, and perhaps you are too, but through these words God wants you to measure your potential using a different yardstick. He wants you to love the people who come empty handed to your church’s soup kitchen, to lovingly and empathetically listen to the family member who just needs to talk to someone, and to lovingly and generously set aside a portion of your income and give it away. He wants you to know the cargo capacity and output of your heart so you can fill it up and empty it out daily.
No human can do this perfectly all the time. God knows this, and he knows all the times you’ve filled the capacity of your heart with greed, lust, and pride. He forgives you though, because he loves you. Unlike your heart or a Corvette’s trunk, the capacity of God’s heart is boundless.
Designing the car around the trunk capacity left the Corvette with a distinctive shape. Its best angle is its profile. It’s wedgy, like any good 1970s supercar, yet has a distinctly American flair. Its only bad angle may be from the rear three quarters, especially from above. But you won’t see that angle unless you’re loading and unloading the trunk – that is, using it for its intended purpose. And if you’re doing that, you just gotta love it.
