Do you let others see you?

There is a shot in Schindler’s List of a Jewish family stuffing precious rings, necklaces, and jewels into carefully cut cubes of bread to avoid confiscation from the German soldiers. They have placed the most valuable items they own within the most perishable, fickle items they have.

We could call it ironic when the highest and the lowest of value join together in this fashion. But it is in fact the best armor — like a sheet of steel worn under torn rags. Perhaps Lao Tsu’s famous maxim, “Appear weak when you are strong, and strong when you are weak,” applies here.

But why? Why should the highest and the lowest meet? Because what that Jewish family and Lao Tsu are both tapping into is the power of impression — and further still, the shortage of human attention. Ask yourself, how many people do you know really look deeper? How many people see?

I find myself placing jewels within a cheap container as a matter of habit. The container serves as a distraction — and the distraction is often humor. I will lay something extremely personal about myself tucked away behind the layers of a clever clip or witty remark. A psychoanalyst — or any shmoo off the street — might ask the same question: Why?

“Seek me and you will find me.”

This verse was always interesting to me. It is a guarantee. I love guarantees. Few things get me more excited than a guarantee of getting something I really want.

"Seek me and you will find me." When I express something fatally vulnerable through the means of a cheap container, am I not searching for a guarantee?

To the people that I lay little personal jewels within pieces of bread, I ask: Are you paying attention? Or, in Alfred Borden’s words, Are you watching closely?

It is a test, of sorts. It is also a game. Dangling pieces of bread in front of people, wondering if they will look close enough to spot the sparkling jewels just under the crust’s surface is very fun. And it makes me feel very safe. Putting out "feelers" ... what a rush.

Is it a defense mechanism? Possibly. But it is also a compromise, a compromise in vulnerability. Spilling any of our guts to anyone is a risk beyond measure. It is foolish to walk around with all your valuables out in the open, for everyone to see. Burying valuables where no one is looking is the ultimate test of loyalty: Do you believe in me enough to give me the benefit of the doubt, that beneath this layer of sourdough bread, there is something valuable to see?

Combing the lowest with the highest is also an invitation. I feel strange putting myself in the same company as Jesus, but I admit I feel similarly when he says, Seek me and you will find me. Is this not what we are saying when we place something valuable within something seemingly invaluable?

Attention is the most precious of human gifts. When someone looks at you, listens to you, seeks to understand you, and can feel the best version of yourself that you are aching to express — is there anything better than that? Why should we pursue attention cheaply, with rubies strewn about our neck, telling people, “Come, look at me, look at me! Look at my jewels!”

How will you know that any of those people are giving you attention BECAUSE they are curious about you? When we seek attention we may find it, but it will often be worthless attention. How much more valuable is the attention of a seeker who, through muck and mire — or an inch of sourdough bread — excavates the real treasure buried beneath the veneer?

But now we must ask a question of ourselves. Do we only risk exposing ourselves — through vulnerability, honesty, and personal expression — when we have a guarantee that the person before us has offered valuable attention? Do we only open up when the battle is over? Do we only swim when the water is warm?

Are we being arrogant to bury ourselves so far back that it becomes impossible to know us at all?

The danger is that we present the sourdough bread for so long, mistaking it for our “real” selves, that we forget there is anything beneath it. How relieiving to forget one's own vulnerability! But how BORING! Honesty is not a negotiable behavior for health. And yet, there are pieces and sections of our Being that not everyone does or should have access to.

But, when an eye looks at those chunks of bread, are we always to judge them when they walk past? Perhaps, from time to time, we should cut open a chunk of bread just slightly, and let the flash of a glistening red ruby or pure green emerald be seen.

The question we have to ask ourselves in the midst of hiding beneath bread is — How many people am I missing out on because I conceal the bread deep within my chest?

The answer may not be “all” or even “many.” But if we are even missing out on “some” — or “one” or “two” — people, perhaps that is still too many.

But, it is true that most people are not willing to look beneath even our top layer. Perhaps we are one of those people, ourselves, who are hoping that somoene else will give us the benefit of the doubt, when we don't extend that same courtesy to others. Maybe this is the cycle of a lonely world.

So, what is the answer? Perhaps Solomon can help us. “A time for war and a time for peace.” Perhaps, too: a time for armor and a time for nakedness. And, certainly, a time for the places in between. The only question left for us to ask, then, is: Is now that time?