Being Bodily

In studying the Theology of the Body, as I have been blessed to be able to do for the last couple of weeks, I’ve realized that there are a lot of absolutely amazing things about the Church’s teaching. Some of them have been more profound than others, and I don’t really have the time, energy, or space to reflect on them all here, so it seems like the perfect time to make a list.
 

1. I’ve realized that I often think like a dualist. Body and soul are separate, and the body is the bad part.  To me, it is an AMAZING revelation that our bodies are actually good, and necessarily part of WHO we are, our person.

2. Thinking #1 is pretty natural to us, given that we live in a fallen world. No joke, sin means our bodies don’t work with our spirit as they were supposed to. This may seem obvious, but when you really think about it, it’s surprising. We don’t know anything else because we live in this fallen world…

 

3. Though we often think of sin as in the body (think St Paul here), if you look at the whole of Scripture, what is often blamed for sin is not the body itself, as though the matter God created is bad, but bodily desires, which cannot be separated from the person himself.

 

4. The only way we know it’s supposed to be different is through revelation (see prior post). I can’t get over that one.

 

5. Even though we are fallen, and this affects everything we do, we are also redeemed through Christ. This means we can do good with our bodies; we can overcome sin and we can recapture who we are meant to be.

 

6. We actually need our bodies to do good. Think about the Sacraments!!

 

7. All of this means that I’m not totally going to be in heaven until my body is there too.

 

8. Once we are body and soul in heaven, we will experience ourselves (our personhood) in a way that we cannot even imagine right now. 

It is such a temptation in our world to think this way; to think of our bodies as property for our ‘use’ or tools for gaining whatever we need. We often think of our bodies as hindrances, especially when we have to exercise, or get sick, or need sleep. This kind of thinking is so easy because these weaknesses are in the body, and since we always want to believe we are invincible, we separate our ‘selves’ from our bodies. This is how our world justifies so much, and even if we don’t fall into the major sins (e.g. my body is my property so I can have an abortion or do drugs), this attitude sneaks into little things, and before I know it, I catch myself copping out and blaming my body for my failings.

Being Human

This week I started a course on John Paull II’s Theology of the Body that was introduced by the Professor with a quote from Guadium et Spes, the Constitution of the Church in the Modern World developed at Vatican II: 

“Christ, the final Adam, by the revelation of the mystery of the Father and His love, fully reveals man to man himself and makes his supreme calling clear.” (Section 22)    

I must admit, I had heard this before, but never really understood it. Whenever I had previously heard this quote, I thought, “sure, of course, Christ was the perfect man, so we should follow him, etc…” But for some reason it struck me differently this time around. The Church is actually making an incredibly bold statement here. It’s not just saying that that Christ is a good guy so we should follow him, but rather that we human beings cannot actually know our true selves without God becoming Incarnate as a man. Christ is the perfect man, and we would not even understand what ‘the perfect man’ meant without Him. It’s an extremely humbling thought, and also sheds light on a recurring problem I’ve run into while studying Moral Theology.

So often it seems that the conclusions the Church comes to are completely contrary to what the world judges to be right. Not just in the obvious things, but in seemingly minute details like the difference between contraception and family planning. The whole world seems to disagree, and the Church stands alone. On the face of it, this seems arrogant, and in our democratic culture, obviously wrong. When asked why this is, Catholic appeals to the ‘fallen nature of man’ seem hollow and unreal, grasping at straws to explain away the pride that leads us to claim to have truth.

Seen in light of this statement, however, I realized that this truly is the only answer that we, as Catholics, can give. While our faith is illuminated by reason, Christ is the Truth, and so we can only know the whole truth in knowing Him. It is not just our actions that are affected by the fall, but our ability to know things as well. Thus, we, as fallen beings, cannot even know the whole truth about ourselves, about who we are, without God’s revelation. And so even in the face of overwhelming opposition, the Church, which has used reason and revelation to discern the truth in Christ, must proclaim this to the world.

This, incidentally, is what the Theology of the Body is all about: how Christ, as a man (body and soul!) demonstrates for us the truth of our personhood. It’s controversial, because it’s about Christ, and who we are meant to be, rather than what we currently are. And nobody likes to be told to change. 

Be Still

I like ideas. I also like tasks, lists, and activities. The feeling of accomplishment and satisfaction when I cross the final item off my long list of ‘to do’ items for the day is one of my favorites. I have also always liked rules and rubrics, with their transparency and well defined limits, telling me exactly what to do in order to accomplish my goal. Conversely, I tend to get frustrated with projects and people who expect things of me, but do not lay out guidelines in a clear way.

I realized some time ago that this tendency often led to my treating people as tasks, and to my getting frustrated with others who ‘got in the way’ of my ‘to do’ list. While I have (am still working) worked on this problem, what struck me recently was how much I had let this tendency pervade my prayer life. My general thought process: “I want to be holy. What can I do to be holy? Dear God, I love you. What can I do to be holy? If I go to mass every day, pray more, read spiritual books, or become a nun, will that work?”  The general idea of this: “what can I do, God, just tell me and I’ll do it?!” You can imagine the ensuing frustration when I cannot figure out the answer…

 And yet, as I’ve realized before, this is neither possible, nor (fortunately) what God wants from me. This revelation came about when a friend pointed me to a familiar verse in the Psalms: “Be still, and know that I am God” (46:10). In this request, God is not asking us to do anything, but rather simply to be. In our task oriented culture, it is so hard to even know what it is simply ‘to be’.  What can it mean ‘to be’ with God? How can I be with someone I cannot see? The saints got it; Mother Teresa has a famous quote about ‘looking’ at God as prayer. My question was always, how do I get there?! 

What I failed to understand was that this ‘being’ with God isn’t the end to arrive at, it’s the whole point; just as loving my mom or sister or friend here on earth isn’t about doing anything, it’s about spending time, building a relationship, being with and for the other person. Our actions matter in these relationships, but much more so the relationship does the relationship itself.

I’ve realized in my struggle to overcome my task oriented nature that I am much happier, much more who I am meant to be when I ‘waste’ time with others, simply being with them. How much more so will this apply as I simply try to ‘be’ with God.