noun

A possession that provides few benefits and is an inconvenience or a financial burden to maintain. *

It was always in the family, never read, rarely seen, but always there. This was the Family Bible. Yes, upper case seems appropriate for a Family Bible. My grandfather bought it in 1898 or thereabouts, just a couple of years prior to his 1901 wedding with my grandmother. Their marriage lasted 50 years until their death. In my father’s youth, this was the only book in the family and it retained that status throughout his childhood. The majority of the book seemed virginal, although the pages with drawings (many in color, but some in black-and-white) showed some evidence of use, but the book remained otherwise like new. And why not? It spent its life always in a closet or stored away on a shelf out of sight.

Weighing 16 pounds and being 5 inches thick, this was far more than just the Bible. In addition to the Bible as we know it, each of the Bible’s books had extensive documentation, plus there were multiple pages with background information on each major character, plus a large section of children’s stories, and extensive drawings (many in color) on the many plants and animals mentioned in the Bible. Additionally, there were multiple tables with cross references on dates and events, constituting a thorough study of biblical history. Those tables alone seemed priceless, as within those pages was a deep study on actual historical and biblical events and their ties to other events.

I was probably only 8 or 9 when my parents first showed me the hallowed document. It was a moment of awe and reverence to behold such a sacred piece of family history. Quite gently, I turned a few pages, knowing that my grandparents, as well as my father when a child, had touched it. This was a book to revere, not one to read or to study. Sad, really, as the craftsmen who published that book undoubtedly wanted it to influence the lives of its readers, a goal never realized. Sometimes, we build things so grand that they are never used as intended. Such was the fate of this beautiful book.

This Bible traveled to many places: Venita, Indian Territory (now Oklahoma); Fairview, Missouri; then to Wetumka, Oklahoma; then to Nashville, Arkansas; then to Buffalo Creek, Missouri; then to Rosalia, Kansas; then to Traskwood, Arkansas; Alma, Arkansas; Oklahoma City; Little Rock; and finally to where my dear wife and I reside. During those trips, the book was rarely opened, always kept in revered silence. Stewardship of the book came to me when my mother died in 2007. And I followed family tradition: I kept the book hidden to preserve it, never opened to be read.

Being the steward, I began to fully grasp what it means to own a white elephant: we didn’t read it, yet destroying it or, (God forbid) selling to a stranger, was unthinkable. The monster was mine, and it was to me to protect it and to preserve it. And, so I did. But time is always the enemy. My life is in its autumn or winter season, and a new steward is needed.

Fortunately, I have a nephew, one who has a deep respect for the function of religion and its role in peoples’ lives, and he graciously accepted the yoke of stewardship. Parting with the family icon filled me with many memories, yet I am proud to pass the torch. I realize that a time will come in some future decade when this piece of family history appears on Ebay or elsewhere, being advertised as “Old book, good condition, make offer.” Life goes on. I am blessed in that I will never see that day.