Everyone Wants My Body

By Dick Duerksen

Photo by Pexels

Everybody wants my body. Some, so they can fill me with beer. Others, so they can adjust my appearance to match their definition of “beautiful.” Still others harangue and wheedle about how I must reduce my cholesterol, increase my carbs, reduce my carbs, drink flax seed tea, or purchase new running shoes from only their company.

Everybody wants my body. If I drink this, they say, I’ll “have more fun.” If I apply that, I’m more “kissable.” If I watch this, I’ll be “more relaxed.” From the privacy of my speeding auto, I am accosted by the makers of houses, cars, beer, shoes, mortgages, graduate education, the world’s finest candy, dental implants, and three more brands of beer. All seem to know exactly what I need, and why I need it. “Right Now!”

Newsweek, TIME, People, The UTNE Reader, Mother Jones, and WORLD Magazine have each dedicated scores of pages to telling me about my body. Although many have included ads convincing me to ask my doctor for certain prescription medications that will “fix me,” I’ve noticed that the fine print warns that their solutions may also cause my body to break down in disgusting ways. Regardless, they want my body.

It’s all offered so attractively that I hear myself agreeing, desiring, deciding, and handing over the Master Card. Sometimes I go through the process alone, captivated by the ad design and copy. Sometimes I argue it through with my wife or another friend. Sometimes I listen to counsel. Sometimes I don’t. The dealers are all hoping I won’t, that I’ll just get in line and give them my body so they can drape me, fill me, medicate me, and sell me their “stuff.”

Then God shows up, saying that he would like to have my body for his temple. Seems he’d like to live there so other folks can visit him wherever I am.

That could call for some significant redecorating (See 1 Peter 2:5, and 1 Corinthians 3:16 and 6:19).