I'm a big fan of the PBS series "Antiques Roadshow." I think it's appeal for me is the idea of hidden treasure, and the surprise of worth. My favorite moments, are the ones where the person brings an item they've found at a garage sale or thrift store, only to find out that their purchase is worth thousands of dollars. The look on the person's face as they discover the value of the item is priceless. I'm sure that if I'd seen the same item, I would have never even bothered with it. On the other side of the show, are the people who bring family heirlooms in, hoping to gain an insurance value on the item or items. In a way it's perverse to me. I keep wondering if they are really only looking to find out it's value or if they are hoping to sell it. I enjoy the history that is brought out by the evaluators, but there is something that makes me uneasy about selling a family heirloom. Which brings me to my Grandmother's Anniversary clock.
As my grandmother began to slip into her late nineties, it became apparent she didn't have long to live. Her memory had long faded. I didn't want any of her money, it belonged to my aunt and uncle who'd sheltered her, and nursed her for forty years. There was only one thing of hers that I'd ever wanted. The magical, ever spinning, glass domed, Anniversary clock. From the time I was a toddler, it mystified me. Here was this spinning pendulum dangling by a thin ribbon of metal, dancing endlessly, forever. It didn't click, it didn't chime, it didn't do anything, but spin and send reflected shafts of golden sunlight throughout her living room.
"How does it do that?" I would wonder. I've always been one to disassemble things to discover how they work, but this clock, sheltered within the force field of it's glass dome, was sacred. My grandmother held nothing sacred from us boys, so it wasn't for fear of her that I avoided disassembling it. Somehow, I knew that it's workings were beyond my knowing. There were forces at work here that I couldn't discern by breaking it down into it's respective parts. Somehow, that amazing thread of metal that held the spinning balls suspended above the bottom plate, possessed a magic beyond my knowing.
Before my Grandmother passed, I asked my aunt if I could have it. I was in my late forties and the mystery still remained for me. It was the only thing of hers I wanted. It's magic still amazed me and still does to this day.
What does this have to do with our study into leading as a bondservant? Everything! It isn't the item that gives a person worth, but the person who values it. The same is true with us in our marriages. The same is true with our relationship with God. God's estimation of our worth is far greater than we could ever assign to ourselves. God loved us so much, he gave his only Son, that we might have eternal life. It's an unfair exchange much like you see on the Antiques Roadshow. He sees in us a worth far beyond what we can see in ourselves. He has promised to love us, provide for us, and protect us. We aren't the yard sale treasure or thrift shop find, we are the priceless heirloom he has cherished and hidden away in him. Our insurance worth, was the cost of his Son, but our true worth is priceless to him. We as humans can only measure his love for us by the gift of his Son, but it is more than that. He esteems us more highly than we esteem ourselves. He has become a bondservant to us. Hearkening to our cry and meeting our every need. We breathe, because he values us. The ultimate bondservant asks us to imitate him.
So, I have to ask all you men, have you stood before you wife and said to her: "I love you, my master, I will not go out free." Have you given up your life for her? It's a tough thing to do, to give up your place as "man of the house," "king of the castle," "chief tie-breaker," and other titles of position. Your first human response is to wonder what she'll do for you. Jesus did the same thing for us. He left his position in glory, his equality with God, to become the created. Then, he embraced us fully in our humanity and said, "I love you, my master, I will not go out free." He bound himself to us forever. He said, "I will never leave you, nor forsake you."
Is it too much for us to give ourselves as bondservants to our Lord? Is it too much too ask for us to give ourselves for our wives?
What do you value? If we as men value ourselves above our wives, we've already failed as imitators of Christ. If we do love them as our master, we gain more than a wife. We gain true life and worth. Seems like a fair exchange, don't you think?
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