But as one was felling a log, his axe head fell into the water, and he cried out, “Alas, my master! It was borrowed.” 2 Kings 6:5
Years ago, while working at summer camp, I was on maintenance duty one day when my camp pickup refused to start. Using our limited mechanical skills, a coworker and I quickly figured out it was a corroded battery cable. It was a relatively quick fix, but it still set us back a half hour. While my coworker cleaned up the post, I intended to take his camp pickup but when I turned the key, the exact same thing happened – another corroded battery cable. As bizarre as that was, the same thing happened for a third time when I went to use the camp tractor later that day. I was not allowed to drive camp vehicles anymore.
Through that experience, I learned that I do not like to use other people’s equipment. If I break my pickup, that’s fine. I expect to pay for repairs on my stuff. When I put money into it, I’m rewarded by having stuff that works. When, however, I break someone else’s stuff, I also feel responsible to pay for the repair, even though I’ll get nothing out of it. The reciprocal of this is that I don’t like others borrowing my stuff. I’ve tried. When, however, I get my boat back and there’s a chunk out of the prop, I become resentful. In those situations, I find that my attachment to my stuff may be greater than my attachment to that person.
Borrowing, and then breaking, a friend’s stuff will test that friendship. This is illustrated in today’s passage, which tells of Elisha and his fellow prophet’s efforts to build larger housing. While cutting down trees, one of the prophets accidentally dropped his axe head in the Jordan River. It seems like a trivial event, hardly worthy of a miracle and a Bible story, but the axe head was borrowed and so the borrower was distraught. Elisha quickly saved the day, causing the axe head to miraculously float, but the underlying lesson for me remains – Borrowing and breaking a friend’s stuff will test that relationship.
I’ve got neighbors who are profoundly generous. Need a skid steer? Borrow mine! I don’t want to borrow theirs though. What if I break it? This reveals my reciprocal feelings about my stuff. I don’t want others to borrow my stuff. My attitude reveals a lot about my attachment to my stuff. Do I own my stuff? Or does my stuff own me? Christ called me to love my neighbor as myself, but he didn’t say anything about clinging to my stuff so tightly that it causes me to resent those he’s put in my life.