The Stradivarius in the Storage Unit

In 2014, a Stradivarius violin worth $5 million was stolen from concertmaster Frank Almond outside a Milwaukee concert hall. Police recovered it three weeks later in a suitcase, stuffed in an unheated attic. The instrument, handcrafted in 1715 by Antonio Stradivari himself, had been treated like a piece of luggage — tossed aside by someone who had no idea what they were holding.

A Stradivarius is not just wood and varnish. It is three centuries of resonance, shaped by a master's hands, irreplaceable in its capacity to produce sound that moves people to tears. You would never use it to prop open a door. You would never leave it in a damp garage. Not because of arbitrary rules, but because you understand what it is.

Paul tells the Corinthians something similar about their bodies. "Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, who is in you?" he asks. The Spirit of the Living God has taken up residence in you. You are not your own — you were bought at an extraordinary price.

The Corinthians kept saying, "Everything is permissible for me." Technically, maybe. But Paul pushes back: not everything is beneficial. Freedom without reverence is just carelessness. It is the difference between a musician who honors the Stradivarius and a thief who shoves it in a suitcase.

You are handcrafted. You carry the presence of the Almighty. Live like you know what you are holding.