There is an item up for auction right now on eBay. According to its creator it is a work of art. The item is a black eight-inch, acrylic cube. Inside the cube, there is a small computer with an ethernet cable protruding from the back. If people want to bid on this item, they need to comply with certain conditions (if they were to win the bidding): When they receive possession of this work of art, they must immediately hook it up to the internet, at which time it will immediately put itself back up for auction on eBay. I believe I heard the first winning bidder won with a bid of $6500. He will receive the item in the mail shortly, hook it up to the internet, and at some point in the future, send it to next winning bidder above $6500.

This object of art is titled (and I swear I am not making this up): “A Tool to Deceive and Slaughter.” The creator of this item, Caleb Larsen, will get a 15% cut every time the piece is sold for a higher price than the first successful bid. Larsen said this about his creation: “A lot of artwork in the last 10 years was being bought on speculation as investments. This work undermines its ability to be purchased as an investment. This work could be owned for as little as a week or as long as forever, but there’s always the possibility that somebody could buy it from you.”

I don’t know what Caleb Larsen was thinking when he created “A Tool to Deceive and Slaughter.” Maybe the name gives us an inkling of his intentions? Nevertheless, what Larsen has done reminds us that we can never really own anything forever, whether that is a work of art or anything else.

That is good theology.

My hunch is Larsen did not have theology on his mind when he conceived his creation, but it does seem to have been his intention to slaughter the idea of the permanent ownership of anything.

We Christians have held that truth for 2000 years. At best, we are only stewards of what we currently possess. St Paul conveyed this when he wrote to the Corinthians about the Gospel proclaimed to them. He wrote: “I planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the growth (1 Corinthians 3:6).” When I sit in our conference room at Diocesan House and see the pictures of the previous bishops of the Diocese of Georgia on the surrounding walls, I am reminded that I do not own the office of Bishop. I am just the current interim steward.

It is Fall. Soon all our congregations will move toward conversations about stewardship and giving for the future mission of the church.  We would all do well to remember our calling as stewards, and not possessors, of the church and her Gospel. For just a little while (in the history of God’s time), we are called to bear witness to the Gospel of Jesus. We do not own this Gospel any more than we own God. That truth should engender in us a profound humility and then show itself forth in an equally profound generosity.

Scott Benhase is bishop of the Episcopal Diocese of Georgia.