How much is stuff worth? Take chocolate, for example. How much is a chunk of chocolate worth? Well, it depends on where you buy it. The Noka Chocolate company of Dallas, Texas, sells chocolate for $309 per pound. That’s the company’s bargain product, though—the chocolate priced to get you in the door. Noka’s deluxe model goes for $2,080 per pound. At first I wondered why those wily Texans didn’t just round that off to an even $2,100. But then I figured it out: they just could not, in good conscience, overcharge their customers.

And how about diamonds? How much is that sparkle on a new fiancée’s third finger worth? A flawless D-color diamond weighing one carat is valued by gemologists today at somewhere around $23,000. Why so much? Is it the law of supply and demand? Nope. Ever since huge quantities of diamonds were discovered in South Africa in 1870, the little carbon nodules have been scooped out of those South African mines by the ton. But back in the nineteenth century, when investors realized their investments were imperiled by the enormous discoveries, they created De Beers Consolidated Mines, Ltd. That cartel has commanded a monopoly on the world’s diamond trade ever since. If a free market existed, the planet would be awash in cheap diamonds, and a diamond today might not be worth much more than a Snickers bar. But De Beers exists, and so do tiny sparkly rocks selling for tens of thousands of dollars.

So what are chocolate and diamonds actually worth? If you’re asking about the raw material, the answer is, not much. But Noka isn’t selling raw material. The company’s primary goal is not even to sell a tangible product. According to Noka President Noah Houghton, “A gift of Noka Chocolate is a gift of the Noka experience. The Noka Chocolate experience ensures that magical moments and memories can be enjoyed by both the person who gives the gift . . . and by the person who receives the gift.”

And diamonds? For a while after the Great Depression struck in 1929, most of the US population was very practical. For many, the primary goal was survival. Diamond investors feared they might never recoup their losses, but an innovative advertising campaign hit the newsstands in 1938. The advertiser sought to create a new image for diamonds. Lush full-color ads appeared in upscale magazines featuring paintings by Picasso and Dali. Young people were encouraged to consider a diamond ring an essential part of a romantic courtship. The advertisements promoted a simple idea. According to advertising visionary N. W. Ayer, that idea was “the eternal emotional value surrounding the diamond.”

Apparently it worked. A couple years ago, my son asked a young woman to marry him. His proposal came complete with a sparkling bauble that some appraiser said was worth more than my car.

I do think the value some people place on chocolate and diamonds is completely crazy, but I am not as inclined as I once was to discount the value of intangibles—things such as “magical moments” and “emotional value.” I recall that, when my wife and I were a financially struggling young married couple, I believed any purchase that didn’t bring something tangible into the house was a waste of money. Like those depression survivors, for me it was all about practicality—food, clothing, furniture. Years later, I see it differently. All that food and clothing—even all that furniture—is long gone. What I still have from those days is the vivid memories of our two toddlers shuffling through autumn leaves on a trail in Salmon River Park, of Beethoven’s Eroica Symphony played one winter evening by the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra, of the early morning sun catching a volcanic plume of steam venting near the top of Washington’s Mount Baker. I still have friendships that have persisted through all these years, and insights gained from studying my Bible as a spiritually thirsty young Christian. Chocolate and diamonds don’t have anything at all to do with those experiences, but the idea that the advertisers have attempted to promote—that experiences in life are more important than mere stuff—is profound.

Jesus said, “Do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you was well” (Matthew 6:31-33).

Jesus did not say stuff is useless. We need stuff to survive. It’s just that it is not nearly as important as the experiences that make us who we are—and lead us into eternity.

B.W.