Keep it to Yourself

In the last few weeks, my Bible reading seems to have led me regularly past Jesus’ healing miracles.  Often the conclusion of these episodes sees Jesus imploring the one who has been healed not to tell anyone about this (e.g. Mt 9:30; Mt 12:16; Lk 5:14, Lk 8:56.)  I have often wondered why Jesus adopted this position.  After all, didn’t He come to earth to make known the Kingdom of His Father?  Surely, as the modern advertising agent says, “Any publicity is good publicity!” 

Some theologians and commentators suggest that the time wasn’t right, or that to become known in that place didn’t fit in with Jesus’ plan for His ministry.  I have come to the conclusion that it’s linked to Jesus’ experiences in the wilderness, where he was tempted by the Devil.  The three temptations described by Matthew and Luke involve His bodily needs, the possession of ultimate power, and His personal renown.  I think Jesus tried to steer away from fame as a healer just as he refused to jump from the Temple roof.  It wasn’t His aim simply to become a supernatural celebrity.

It was against the background of these thoughts, then, that I watched a woman on the train either taking something from, or putting something into her handbag.  It was the bag itself that fascinated me.  It was long and black with a zip at each end, but these zips didn’t meet in the middle.  Instead, there was a simple stud holding the two sides together at the centre.  Thus the whole bag was divided – either notionally or by partitions – into three sections.  At the ends the contents were comparatively secure, while in the centre would be those items more frequently required.

I considered what contents might be in the bag: an address book, perhaps, or a purse; maybe a jewel case; almost certainly make-up.  And of course, the ubiquitous mobile phone and mp3 player, which would definitely be centre-stage for constant access while travelling.  In the blinkered surroundings of the underground train, my mind wandered further.  I thought how clever this design was, for not all things are of equal importance, and some possessions demand greater protection than others.  When St Paul wrote about the body, he described how “the parts that are unpresentable are treated with special modesty” (I Cor. 12:23).

This is true of life itself.  Some aspects of our lives and thoughts can be freely discussed; opinions shared, and so on.  Others are more personal, and we would only mention them to our closest friends.  Yet others are supremely confidential, and are only shared with one other person, if at all.  The same considerations apply to the way we either cover or reveal our bodies.

 Although he was writing about corporate bodies, I’m sure Paul wouldn’t compare these principles to aspects of a physical body if it weren’t sound teaching.  It does seem that some sections of today’s society are incapable of distinguishing what bits of life ought to be in which part of that excellently-designed handbag: what can be freely made public, and what should remain ‘behind closed doors’.  Perhaps the answer is to reflect on our motives, and consider the example of our Lord: if the aim is simply to enhance our own celebrity, then maybe we should think again.