Your Zipper is Down

One of the most dreaded experiences during middle school was to walk into a classroom and suddenly see all eyes turn and focus on your groin as someone gleefully declares, “XYZPDQ!” Then comes the clumsy scramble of trying to find the little tab on the zipper as a blush blossoms across your face—suppressed laughter filling the room like an approaching thunder storm. “Examine Your Zipper Pretty Darn Quick”— One of the great ‘gotcha’ declarations of all time and certainly one you didn’t want to be on the receiving end of. What’s the deal with this anyway? It’s not like people could see anything! Well, perhaps not, but we all know that pulling that zipper up is the last step in closing the portal to things that are to remain unseen—private things—nakedness. It also represents the first step towards revealing such things. 

It is recorded in the Bible that when Adam and Eve ate of the forbidden fruit, “…the eyes of both were opened, and they knew that they were naked” and they became ashamed, tried to cover themselves and hid. And whether you believe this to be literal or metaphorical it speaks to the reality that for most of us, to be naked is the most vulnerable and intimate states we can imagine— to be known, truly seen, as we really are—every lump, bump, curve and roll. Interestingly, we see in the experience of Adam and Eve that awareness of their nakedness was directly tied to an awareness of their sin. Like them, we not only cover our nakedness with clothing, but we reflexively hide our sins, our shame, in the shadows—hopefully forgotten or unseen. Author Marianne Williamson identifies the vulnerability in this as she writes, “Until we have seen someone’s darkness, we don’t really know who they are.” What’s implied here is that we, too, are not really known until our darkness, our experiential nakedness is known. 

Weaponizing Shame

Unfortunately, in our current age of obsessive scrolling, sharing, responding, opining, and trolling, where every word and photo are preserved for all time, we have moved towards weaponizing shame. Social media has become the new town square where we can call out those who have sinned against us (or at least our standard) and publicly strip them down to their undignified nakedness crying “Shame, shame, shame.” We relish in their ruin, offering no hope of covering and then threaten to strip any other who would offer the naked sinner cover. This is about perpetuating and celebrating shame. If I’m honest, I too have done this, though perhaps only secretly when I see the “other side” stripped of their dignity. 

In my role as an emergency physician, it has been a common circumstance where I must reveal and examine the full nakedness of an individual, assessing for disease or treating illness or injury. This is a profound privilege and I have always made every effort to do this ever so carefully, whether in unhurried circumstances or when emergently cutting clothes free in a trauma or code. Essential to this carefulness is to ensure that only those essential for that patient’s care are present. Then when exposing, only revealing that which is necessary for care and healing, covering all else, then quickly recovering when there is no longer any need to see. This timely re-covering is essential in retaining or restoring dignity. 

Covered with Confidence 

Each of us needs covering. We need our bodies covered so that we can walk confidently among one another. Uncovering is vulnerable, special, intimate, and should be marked by choice, empathy, and love. Our emotional nakedness is defined by our weaknesses, our fears, our foolishness, and our shame for things done and for things undone. Yes, the principles of consequential justice and accountability are essential for maintaining a culture of peace and harmony in our communities. 

But perhaps it is also time we consider how it is that we can cover one another. Yes, expose what is necessary, with whom it is necessary, and then re-cover—re-cover with love. Marianne Williamson not only identified that we need to see someone’s darkness to really know them but went on to say, “Until we have forgiven someone’s darkness, we don’t really know what love is.” This is also how we know we are loved— that our darkness has been forgiven— not ignored, forgotten, avoided, or suppressed but seen, known, and forgiven. A covering offered. 

Hey, pssst, don’t look now but your zipper is down!