A costly lesson from a worthless book

The annoyances of unsolicited sales calls are part of the modern life. At one time, our landline phones would ring around supper time with offers for cheaper long-distance phone service. Today we get calls on our cellphones throughout the day with urgent pleas to purchase vehicle warranties before our current warranty expires. Even though the script that the salesperson reads promises much, most of us have grown immune to their promises and simply ignore the calls as an annoying distraction. I have learned to check the caller id to identify telemarketers. My eyes are keen to identify the items of junk mail for an immediate toss in the trash. I consider myself rather adept at both recognizing and avoiding such attempts to sell me worthless products or services. So, it is with some bafflement how I came to make the following purchasing decision.

Several years ago, while I was serving my first church after graduating from seminary, I received a postcard in the mail requesting my contact information to be published in an alumni directory for my college. Printed on the card was a 1-800 number and a request that I call the number to have my information updated. I called the number and indicated to the operator who I was and why I was calling. The woman who answered the call responded with enthusiasm and genuine appreciation that I had called. The questions she asked were basic contact information at first. She then went on to inquire about academic degrees I had achieved following my undergraduate and about my family. As I answered her questions, she informed me that they were publishing a very fine hardbound edition of an alumni directory. It would include all the information I needed to stay connected with my classmates. She continued to ask questions about my education, family, and career, all the while pausing to share the unbelievable quality and usefulness of the book.

I am not sure when it happened. It must have happened sometime during the questions about academic achievements following college when she seemed so impressed that I had recently graduated from seminary, or maybe when she sounded so genuinely happy when I told her about my children. It even could have been when she took notice that my wife Dana was also a graduate of the same college. I do not know when it happened, but it happened – my well-trained aversion to the sales pitch was neutralized and my frugal aversion for such things was abated such that when the offer was made to purchase one of these directories, I gladly agreed to pay three easy installment payments. In turn, the salesperson promised the handsome book would be shipped as soon as it was published. I hung up the phone, quite proud of myself and excited about the purchase.

At this moment in our lives, Dana and I were barely making enough to survive. We had gone from her teaching salary and my part-time income during seminary to only what the church was able to pay me. It was less than half what we made while in school. Added to this, our family was growing. Our oldest two sons were still in diapers. We experienced God’s gracious provision for our needs but had no extra money to spare. Unbeknownst to me, my wife Dana had also received such a postcard. However, she had not yet called the 1- 800 number and heard the Siren’s song.

I arrived home that evening excited to share my great purchase with Dana. I told her of receiving the postcard in the mail, and of calling the number, and answering the questions. I explained that they were publishing an alumni directory with all the needed information. As I recounted my experience from earlier in the day, I fully expected that Dana would be as excited as I was about the directory. As I was telling her about my conversation, Dana interrupted me. I had not yet gotten to the part of the story where I revealed that I purchased the directory. Not knowing this key detail, she began to tell me what she assumed I already knew – that such a directory was not worth purchasing. Among other things, she said that we kept up with all our college friends through email and social media, and any printed directory would likely be incorrect before the book shipped. She presented these sound reasons not as a defense but rather as the obvious reality that she assumed I knew. She paused when she noticed my shameful silence. In mid-thought, she asked the question, “You did not buy one, did you?” If I could have said no, I would have. What seemed like such a great idea a few hours earlier now seemed utterly foolish in the light of reason? She then wanted to know how much it cost, to which the three easy payments no longer seemed so easy.

The directory finally arrived in the mail. When it did, we had moved to a different state and, I was pastoring a new church. The first thing I did was to turn to the page where we were listed, and read out loud our former address and employer. It was indeed a finely bound book as it should be for its price. From the moment I received it, the book had little value. Yet because I had paid so dearly for it, I could not bring myself to through it away. It eventually found a place on my bookshelf in my office. I had little need for it then. Today it is 17 years old and contains no helpful information. Yet, it remains on my bookshelves as a testimony and reminder of a moment when wisdom escaped me, and I made a bad decision.

Solomon writes in the first chapter of Proverbs that “Let the wise hear and increase in learning, and the one who understands obtain guidance,” (Proverbs 1:5, ESV).” The tragedy of foolishness is that bad decisions do not produce any measurable change in attitude or action. Solomon, while acknowledging the beginning of knowledge and wisdom is the fear of the Lord, also recognized that “fools despise wisdom and instruction.” (Proverbs 1:7, ESV).” Making bad decisions is a part of life. Yet, God desires that we be wise. Wise in our choices of righteousness. Wise in our relationships. And yes, wise in our dealings with telemarketers. That wisdom comes from God’s word. It comes from wise godly counsel that understands God’s word. And it comes from our time in prayer.

As for the book, all was not lost. After time abated the sting of the bad purchase Dana and I have laughed often about how useless the directory has been. Over the years, when a move or furniture rearrangement has caused us to encounter the directory again, we have considered throwing it away. It has no usefulness as a directory and over the last 17 years, has never been consulted for the information it holds. But each time, we find a new place for it on the shelf. In some ways, the directory has become a treasure not for what it is but for the testimony it bears.