Back in the day when things were still in black and white, a man named Boris Karloff carved a name for himself as the original cinematic Frankenstein's monster. He also achieved fame for his portrayal as the mummy in the 1932 movie of the same name. His wrinkly face became indelibly etched into the minds of many upon the mere mention of the Egyptian zombie.
A number of years ago, a first-century find made its way around the merry-go-round of news outlets, proving big news for Christians. Researchers discovered a fragment of papyrus from the gospel of Mark, dated before 90 AD, which would make it the oldest fragment of a gospel manuscript. The previous record-holder—unhelpfully called P52—dates somewhere between 101 and 200 AD.
What's all that got to do with old Boris, you ask? Part of what makes this big news beyond the archaeological significance lies in the controversy behind how it was found. The fragment, along with many other ancient documents, were extracted from the layered form of a mummy's mask. Apparently for those who were not rich and famous in ancient Egypt, burial occurred in coffins made of cloth, paint, glue, or paper, as opposed to the dazzling gold we find for the kings and rulers of old. Masks that went over the mummified heads were made similarly.
Can anyone say papier-mâché?
So, what's the actual controversy? In order to fully retrieve the embedded manuscripts, the mask had to be destroyed. This enraged some archaeologists, partly because of the loss of a great ancient treasure, but more likely because they didn't find the manuscripts themselves.
The treasure within the treasure.
The Apostle Paul writes about something similar. Romans 2:29 reads, "But a Jew is one inwardly, and circumcision is a matter of the heart, by the Spirit, not by the letter. His praise is not from man but from God." He wrote to Jewish Christians still under the impression that circumcision made them right with God, going so far as to make new Gentile Christians do the same. To correct them, he referred to an inward change being of greater value to God than an outward act.
God doesn't care about the things we do near as much as He cares about why we do them. He doesn't want our good works near as much as He wants our hearts. Motives matter. Helping to feed the homeless at the local shelter becomes a hollow gesture if the reason we do it is to impress others. Keeping count of the number of people you've led to Christ obscures the deeper truth that it is the Spirit who changes hearts, and we come alongside as mere witnesses.
God wants the treasure within. Would we be willing to destroy our external façade to offer Him the real us? Destroying the outer shell will reveal the inner “mummy”, the treasure the Lord truly seeks. By offering Him our whole hearts as opposed to just our works, we end up as the ones holding the greatest treasure anyone has ever held.