Table Talk: Witness

     A few observations and a short conversation often disclose a lot about a person. Since most of our guests at the spa are women, and many of the men who schedule ask for a woman therapist, I was pleased to find a male client on my schedule a few Saturdays ago. I met the man who looked to be about thirty-five, healthy, and friendly. Watching a brief interaction between him and his wife, I judged his manner rather fawning but not insincere. As a couple they seemed too emotionally connected, like a pair with no offspring, who treat one another as if each were the child of the union.

     Our conversation during the massage revealed my client to be a salesman by occupation. He must have been successful, as he was able to afford monthly trips with his spouse to expensive hotels and fancy spas. He had played football in high school and was still in good shape due to working out regularly at a gym. As a young adult, he had studied art, hoping for a career as an artist, but had not pursued his dreams for some undisclosed reason. I listened and looked. Details of his Colorado Springs origin and abode, his clean cut good looks, his too-precious manner with his wife seemed to speak clearly to me. “Help,” I thought. “I have an evangelical on my table, and I’m about to be witnessed to.”

     My assumption seemed accurate. His approach was subtle as he sought to make an opening in the conversation for his testimony. The first assay related to his assertion that one has to experience inner change in order to change one’s body, its health and muscles. I didn’t take the bait. The other was his statement that God surely made the body amazing. I simply agreed but didn’t encourage a conversation. For a salesman, he seemed a bit unsure in his witness, or perhaps he was the consummate salesman who knows whether he really has any chance of closing a deal.

     I had successfully deflected his attempt to lasso me. In so doing, I may have missed having a significant conversation about the body, but I didn’t want to hear about the personal change that comes when one takes the five steps to salvation, inviting Jesus into one’s heart. While I am Christian, I really have tired of the earnest witnessing I have often been subjected to over the years. I didn’t want to explain my complicated theology to someone who seemed content with his own formulaic certainty. I just was not ready to be assaulted by a true believer, not even by a nice one.

     To give my client a break, he seemed to be a decent guy and has a beautiful body that he continues to keep fit. I suspect an important inner change did alter his life, and that the divine may have rescued him from some destructive future. These would be fine things to share, but I didn’t invite him to do so.

     Instead, I insisted on sharing my own witness, a silent testimony I proclaim through massage. In making it, I am not trying to convince people to accept a particular belief. Rather, I exalt the body as it is--regenerated or not, appealing or repulsive, healthy or ill, thriving or dying. While I am not a creationist and some days barely a theist, I still marvel at the truth of the divine communication in human form. Divinity loves through persons, presents itself in community, and encourages creative living. These divine touches are the most meaningful aspects of my witness.

     This is my witness: to my clients, to the beauty of their bodies, to what and to all that they are. I testify silently with hands, body weight, sweat, and the techniques of massage. My message avoids words; massage speaks its own language. The divine is not separate from the body but, rather, is a continuous revelation of love in any particular body. It seems ironic to me, but I have become a massage evangelical, making my silent witness to everyone who comes to my table.

God, help me keep my witness silent and subtle. Amen.

Peace Rose from the Garden  Photo by Phillip Hoyle

Same rose as above from a different angle