Theology of the Body in Bite-Size Pieces, Part Nine

Think of someone you love dearly—a parent, spouse, child, relative or close friend. Imagine having no physical contact whatsoever with that person—you never experienced a hug, a kiss, a handshake, a pat on the back, an arm around a shoulder, or holding a hand. Imagine if that relationship consisted of words and spiritual presence alone, with no physical touch.

Would you be satisfied with that, or would you need something more?

Even with a strong spiritual presence, a relationship without physical touch falls short of all that it can be. (In fact, studies of infants who do not experience touch reveal many adverse effects, underscoring the basic, uncompromising need for physical contact in human relationships.)

The reason touch is so important is because we are not just spiritual beings—we are physical as well, and the body and spirit work in tandem. The spirit lives in and through the body; the body lives because of the spirit. The Catechism of the Catholic Church goes so far as to say that “spirit and matter, in man, are not two natures united, but rather their union forms a single nature.” (#365) This is why we need to connect with our loved ones not only spiritually, but especially physically.

If human-to-human relationships require physical interaction, how much more so does a human relationship with God, the ultimate source and object of our love. We sometimes think of our relationship with God as strictly spiritual. But we cannot have a complete relationship with God on a purely spiritual level—because we are not purely spiritual. A relationship with God that exists only on the spiritual plane falls far short of all that it can and should be; we need to physically touch God in order to be whole.

God knows this, and in his infinite wisdom and love he provided ways for this physical interaction to happen.

In Jesus Christ, the eternal Word made flesh, God and humanity became physically and spiritually one. The Gospels are filled with stories of people longing to touch Jesus—and Jesus longing to touch people. (A few examples are Mark 3:10, Mark 8:22, Mark 10:13, Luke 6:19, Matthew 8:2-3,, Matthew 8:14-15, Matthew 9:28-30, Matthew 17:6-7, and Matthew 20:34.) As these passages indicate, we need Jesus—God in human flesh—not just for the sake of his touch in itself. We need the healing that only Jesus’ physical and spiritual touch can bring. What we ultimately need to be healed of is sin. Since sin infects both our bodies and our souls, we need to be touched by God both physically and spiritually to receive total healing and salvation.

This is why Jesus instructed the Apostles to not just verbally teach, but to physically heal (Matthew 10:8), to baptize (Matthew 28:19), to consume his Body and Blood (John 6:53-58) and to provide his Body and Blood for others to eat and drink under the appearance of bread and wine (1 Corinthians 11:23-25) so God’s people could be both physically and spiritually one with him, in answer to Jesus’ prayer the night before he died:

“Just as you sent me into the world, I, too, have sent them into the world…. I’m praying not only for them but also for those who believe in me through their word, so that all may be one, just as you, Father, are in me and I in you, so they, too, may be in us.” (John 17: 18, 20-21)

Jesus established the Church as sacrament, a visible sign of the invisible reality of God, through which he would dispense his grace through physical touch just as he had done throughout his public ministry. This touch would be given through the sacraments Jesus entrusted to the Church, through which the spirit would be touched as well.

Tertullian, a Christian writer from the late second and early third centuries, wrote about the spirit’s dependence upon the nourishment of the sacraments received through the body:

“No soul can ever obtain salvation unless while it is in the flesh it has become a believer. To such a degree is the flesh the pivot of salvation, that since by it the soul becomes linked with God, it is the flesh which makes possible the soul’s election by God. For example, the flesh is washed that the soul may be made spotless; the flesh is anointed that the soul may be consecrated; the flesh is signed (with the cross) that the soul too may be protected; the flesh is overshadowed by the imposition of the hand that the soul may be illumined by the Spirit; the flesh feeds on the Body and Blood of Christ so that the soul also may be replete with God.”

Getting God in the Game

"Getting God in the Game: Living Faith Through Sports" is another blog of mine. You can check it out by clicking here.

Theology of the Body in Bite-Size Pieces, Part Eight

As a seque from what we’ve established so far and where we’re going next, I’d like to share this excerpt from my novel “Mowgli and the Missionary.” Death was introduced into the human condition through sin, in which we sever our connection to our source of life. Our life is restored through Jesus Christ, who took on human flesh so it could be sacrificed for our sins. This all has a very physical, bodily component, as this passage explains.

Here Brother Jude, the missionary, has just led Mowgli through a contemplative exercise in which he imagines his human parents whom he lost as a toddler holding him.

“That’s something like how I speak with Jesus,” said Jude.

“But they really weren’t here,” said Mowgli, continuing to wipe away tears. “I only talked to them in my imagination. You can imagine Jesus anywhere too. How can you say you miss him? At least my parents once held me; Jesus has never touched you.”

As his heart rose within him Jude’s hands reached once again for Mowgli’s shoulders, and his eyes stared deeply into his. “Yes he has. Jesus has touched me so many times, Mowgli, in ways I can’t find here, and I miss that very much.”

Mowgli’s smile was not so much of amusement, or mockery, or awkward unease, but of wondrous anticipation of whatever might be coming next.

“Go ahead,” he replied, shaking his head and smiling even more broadly. “Tell me how you’ve been touched by Jesus.”

Jude invited the boy to sit with him, then took a deep breath.

“Mowgli, you’ve seen newborn animals nursed by their mothers. Everyone begins life by feeding off the body of someone else, of the one who gave them life, right?”

“Of course.”

“What is their food in those early days of life? What do they draw from their mother’s body?”

“They drink milk,” said the boy, frustrated with Jude’s fixation on the obvious.

“And that not only feeds their body, but creates a strong bond between them.”

Mowgli hung his head, and Jude hung his as well, realizing too late he had struck a sensitive spot. Mowgli saw his remorse from the corner of his eye.

“It’s okay,” said the boy, gently nodding his head. “Keep going.”

Jude sighed before continuing.

“Can this milk sustain them as they get older?”

“Of course not,” answered Mowgli. “Animals must learn to walk and to run, to build shelter and to hunt. They need other food to help them become strong.”

“You’re right,” said Jude. “And so the flesh eaters kill for their meals, or their parents kill for them until they learn to do so. And the plant eaters take living, growing things into their mouths and annihilate them, killing them to give them their nourishment.”

“Everyone knows this,” said Mowgli. “Why do you speak of this?”

“Maybe you can figure out why. There’s a difference between the milk that nourishes creatures in the early days of life, and the flesh and plants and fruits that must sustain a body when life gets more demanding. The difference has to do with what happens to the source of the food once the meal is eaten. Can you think of that difference?”

Mowgli thought for just a moment, his eyes never leaving Jude’s.

“The one who gives milk lives after the feeding, but an animal or plant must die to feed others.”

“That’s right,” said Jude, nodding emphatically. “You and I are alive today because all through our lives something else gave its life so we can have ours. Whether an animal that was hunted or a fruit or plant that was once living and growing, something else has to die so we can live, their bodies mingling with ours to nourish us. When we eat we become one with what gives its life for us.”

Mowgli had never considered that he owed such a debt to so many, more than just the bull that bought him.

“We don’t usually feel the same bond with them as we do with our mothers, but we should, because a bond is certainly there.”

“You’re right,” said Mowgli. “I’ve never thought of that before. But what does this has to do with Jesus?”

Jude spotted a rotting mango lying on the ground and retrieved it.

“Can you see how this mango is now dead, and why?” asked Jude.

“Of course,” said Mowgli, “it’s rotting because it fell from the tree.”

“The tree gave birth to it and nourished it, and as long as it remained attached to the tree it lived.”

“Of course,” said Mowgli.

“Now it has died, because it’s separated from what gave it life and sustained it. Can it restore itself to life?”

“No, it can’t re-attach itself to the tree.”

“Of course not. And that’s how we are when we separate from God. Like a rotting mango no longer on the tree, apart from what sustains its life, so are we because we separated from God by turning to other things. The food of this earth now only keeps us alive for so long. So God became human in Jesus so he could also die, and through his death he would become the food that keeps us alive forever.”

“But Jesus is a man,” protested Mowgli. “Men don’t eat other men. That’s not right.”

“Jesus changes bread and wine into his body and blood, so he can feed us and become one with us by what still seems to be regular food. That’s how Jesus touches me and holds me, and this is what I miss so terribly.”

Read the first two chapters of "Mowgli and the Missionary" by clicking here.

Theology of the Body in Bite-Size Pieces, Part Seven

The woman saw that the tree was good for food, pleasing to the eyes, and desirable for gaining wisdom. So she took some of its fruit and ate it; and she also gave some to her husband, who was with her, and he ate it. Then the eyes of both of them were opened, and they realized that they were naked; so they sewed fig leaves together and made loincloths for themselves.” (Genesis 3:6-7)

As we noted in Part Four, the man and woman before the fall were naked without shame:

“At this point the man and woman do not know sin; their vision is perfectly clear, not clouded by sinful inclinations and selfish desires. They see in each other’s bodies nothing but the beauty and glory of God--and the incredible privilege they have been granted to love each other with their bodies as God loves.

“That’s the fascination, that’s the excitement. They see in their genitals the gift to be joined as one body in a life-giving union--an image of the Holy Trinity--and this fascinates and excites them.”

They knew only the goodness of their sexuality.

But now they have eaten of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil!

They know evil for the first time, and it repulses them. They now see in their bodies something else--the ability to grasp at each other as a possession and not as a gift, to use each other for selfish purposes, to look upon each other as objects instead of subjects, to use their genitals in ways they were not made to be used--and they are frightened. They cover up in fear as well as shame, for they now feel threatened by the other’s ability to use them rather than love them.

As an analogy, imagine someone who does not do well with horror movies discovering one on television late at night. They know they shouldn’t look, but can’t resist the temptation. “I’ll just watch for a minute”--and then quickly they see things they would rather not have seen. Now instead of sleeping peacefully they’ll have nightmares because of what they saw.

This is similar to what happened to the man and the woman in Genesis 3:6-7. God had warned them about this tree, and about knowledge that belongs to him alone. He knew there were things the man and the woman would rather not see--that they shouldn’t see--things so far outside the bounds of purity and holiness that it would affect the way they think and act.

They also discovered there was some truth to the serpent’s statement, and consequences they did not take into consideration: “God knows well that the moment you eat of it your eyes will be opened and you will be like gods who know what is good and what is bad.” Yes, they will be “like gods,” and in becoming their own gods they will separate themselves from the true God, the source and sustainer of their life--and thus they will die. They are now doomed to struggle with evil and eventually succumb to death as a consequence of their disobedience.

As we noted in Part Three, God does not say “the moment you eat from it I will kill you.” God says “the moment you eat from it you are surely doomed to die.” Death is a natural consequence of separating yourself from your source of life. The man and woman have brought this upon themselves.

Now they see in their bodies things they were not originally made for--selfish, lustful thoughts and desires, and a slow process of corruption that will ultimately lead to death.

We’ll contemplate in a bit more depth these implications in Part Eight, before moving on to God’s plan to save them from this mess in Part Nine.

Theology of the Body in Bite-Size Pieces, Part Six

Now the serpent was the most cunning of all the animals that the Lord God had made. The serpent asked the woman, “Did God really tell you not to eat from any of the trees of the garden?” (Genesis 3:1a)

Yes, this serpent was cunning, and it is shown in many ways.

He approaches the woman and asks “Did God really tell you not to eat from any of the trees in the garden?” (Genesis 3:1b) She gives the correct answer: “We may eat of the fruit of the trees in the garden; it is only about the fruit of the tree in the middle of the garden that God said ‘You shall not eat it or even touch it, lest you die.’” (Genesis 3:2-3)

It is interesting to note that the woman can restate this order even though she was not present when God issued it--she had not yet been created when God gave this order to the man in Genesis 2:16-17. This divine instruction was presumably passed on to her from another, her husband, not directly from the mouth of God. (She even misnames the tree--the tree of life was the one in the middle of the garden--and adds a stipulation that was not part of the original order: “or even touch it.”)

In response to the serpent’s question the woman simply recites doctrine (more or less accurately) that has been passed on to her, which anyone can do. Reciting learned doctrine is not the real test.

The real test is this: does the woman really believe the doctrine she can so easily recite, or is there even a shade of doubt? And if she doubts, how will she respond when she faces temptation?

The cunning serpent deliberately plants doubt in her mind: “You certainly will not die! [i.e. God has lied to you.] No, God knows well that the moment you eat of it your eyes will be opened and you will be like gods who know what is good and what is bad.” (Genesis 3:4-5)

The supreme irony here is that the serpent believes the doctrine more than the woman. The serpent knows the man and woman certainly will die by eating from that tree--that’s the desired result! The serpent wants to separate the man and the woman from the God whose doctrine it knows to be true.

Before we go any further, let’s review from Part Three the meaning of this order God gave about the tree.

The Lord God gave man this order: “You are free to eat from any of the trees of the garden except the tree of knowledge of good and bad. From that tree you shall not eat; the moment you eat from it you are surely doomed to die.” (Genesis 2:16-19)

We explored a false notion of freedom, one that suggests freedom is the ability to do anything we want to do. That’s an idea many children have (“It’s a free country!”) and one that too many carry into adulthood. Let’s repeat our childhood example to dissect this false notion of freedom.

I’m a child on the playground. Sally is using the swing I want to use. I am free to choose either to wait patiently for Sally to finish using the swing, or to bully her into getting off so I can use it now. I choose the latter. Someone says “That’s mean, you shouldn’t do that,” to which I reply: “It’s a free country!”

Here’s what’s wrong with that idea of freedom. First, by bullying Sally to get off the swing, I’ve deprived her of her “freedom” to do what she wants to do--she wants to use the swing. Second, I’m not free at that moment to be the kind, considerate person God made me to be, because I’ve allowed myself to become a slave to the ungodly allure of selfishness, which imprisons me as a sinner rather than frees me an a child and image of the loving God.

So freedom as an idea that everyone can do whatever they want--that everyone can decide for themselves what is right and wrong to do at any given moment--simply doesn’t work, because sooner or later somebody’s “freedom” is going to be denied by another’s decision.

Free will is the God-given ability to decide what I am going to do. Freedom is the God-willed destiny I achieve, for myself and for others, when I consistently use my free will to choose the good, which I learn by listening to God, who alone knows what is truly good and bad. I can’t decide for myself what’s good and bad, for that’s the first wrecking ball swung at true freedom. It’s Sally and the swing all over again.

God gave us free will because, as people created in his image, we are called to love. We cannot love unless it is a free choice. Nobody wants to be in a relationship with someone who really doesn’t want to be in the relationship, if they’re only there because they think they have to be, and don’t have a choice. That doesn’t mean anything.

Love only means something when a person also has the choice to not love, or even to hate. In that case the choice to love is meaningful, it’s real.

God cannot call man to love unless he is also free to hate. That’s why God gave us free will, not so we can go hog wild doing anything we please, but so we can choose to love in a way that is real. And we learn what is good and bad by allowing God to tell us, not grasping at the tree of that knowledge which is his alone to know in his divine omniscience.

The warning of death for disobeying this order is fairly simple. God is reminding man of his total dependence on God for everything, and ultimately his life. If man chooses to be his own god by deciding for himself what’s right and wrong he’ll separate himself from the true God, the author and source of his life. If he chooses to separate himself from the source of his life, the natural consequence is death. God does not say “the moment you eat from it I will kill you.” God says “the moment you eat from it you are surely doomed to die.”

"Mowgli and the Missionary" Chapters One and Two

Read the first two chapters of my new novel here.

Theology of the Body in Bite-Size Pieces, Part Five

Now the serpent was the most cunning of all the animals that the Lord God had made. (Genesis 3:1)

The serpent approaches the woman, deeply envious of the relationship she shares with her husband. It is the unique nature of human sexuality that arouses the serpent’s envy, making it the prime target of attack. Let’s contemplate the serpent’s envy to gain a better understanding and appreciation of human sexuality.

God created the animals (including serpents) before he created the woman. Animals were the man’s first companions. Animals were created male and female--they had sexual partners before the man. God gave the man the task of naming the animals as a sign that man shares in the work of creation, and has dominion over the animals, as stated earlier in the first Biblical creation story (Genesis 1:28).

“But none [of the animals, including the serpent] proved to be a suitable partner for the man.” (Genesis 2:20).

This alone was not enough to stoke the serpent’s envy, though it may seem so at first glance. Yes, the man has the breath of divine life and the serpent does not, giving man special status above the animals, making the serpent and his fellow animals unworthy companions for him. Yes, the man has dominion over the animals with the authority to name them.

But there is no cause here for the serpent to envy the man--in fact, quite the contrary. Man at this point is a solitary creature without an equal, while the serpent enjoys the company of many equals. Furthermore, the serpent has sexual partners while the man does not. (In fact, to take this literally, male serpents have two sex organs to the man’s one, and has multiple sex partners. According to worldly values, the man has every reason to envy male serpents!)

But there is no cause for the serpent’s envy until the woman arrives on the scene. Why?

In the woman the man has an equal partner--but the serpent has equals as well. The man now has a sexual partner, but so does the serpent.

The cause of envy is this: the man and the woman can do something no animal can--they can love with their spirit-infused bodies as God loves, joining their bodies in relational covenant as one, in a participation in the very life of the Holy Trinity. (Indeed, of all species on earth who reproduce sexually, humans are the only ones who face each other in the act of intercourse. Only their union is personal, a true relationship, a sharing in the life of God.)

This is the reason for the serpent’s envy. The serpent does not accept its own place in God’s creation, is not content to live according to the plan God has for it. No, it is envious of human sexuality and its unique participation in divine life, and thus makes it the prime target of attack. Human sexuality remains the primary target of the devil to this day.