We have a love-hate relationship with the human body. We see it in society. We feel it in ourselves.
Many, to be sure, are infatuated with their own bodies. It must not only feel but look as good as possible. Whatever exercise it takes. Whatever dieting. Whatever sleep. And eventually, whatever surgery. Love for the body can swiftly become self-worship. And much of the world’s vibes, and many of its tribes, stand ready to help us craft our own flesh into the idol of hearts.
On the other hand, countless souls despise their bodies. They look in the mirror and see a lost cause. Some, of course, even feel themselves to be a different sex than they are. The body haunts them and holds them back. In extreme cases, a surgeon may be called to the rescue. But for most, online platforms, with their avatars and carefully sculped profiles, can serve as treatment. Still, the end is idolatry. Now the craftsman carves his idol with a keyboard or a scalpel.
But Christians are called out of this twin darkness into his marvelous light. We are men and women reckoned holy in Christ and in the process of becoming holy in both body and soul, through the quiet, omnipotent, indwelling help of the Holy Spirit.
As people in the midst of our own sanctification, we are not immune to the world’s errors and temptations. We struggle. We wrestle with soul-weakening, joy-undermining versions of the world’s love-hate relationship with the body. And the battle is not new in our generation. Christians throughout history have had similar struggles.
Body Versus Soul
Historically, the most well-known tendency among Christians has been to undervalue the earthly body because of a priority placed on the soul. This tendency is understandable because it begins with a good instinct. Christianity does claim such stunning glories for the human soul that we should not be shocked if a good number of Christians, from various theological traditions, struggle with neglecting the body. After all, the apostle Paul acknowledges that “bodily training is of some value,” yet “godliness is of value in every way” (1 Timothy 4:8).
Mere bodily training related to eating, sleeping, and exercising does hold some promise for the present life, but godliness — that is, Christlikeness in soul and body, holistic maturity through the power of the Spirit — holds promise both for the vapor’s breath of this life and also for the life to come. If you’re doing the math at home, you see that godliness far outshines mere bodily training.
Still, understandable as its origins may be, the neglect or minimizing of the human body is far from Christian. We were created, soul and body, in the image of God — fearfully and wonderfully made, even with our indwelling sin and under the curse of all creation. And remarkably, God’s own Spirit has been given and dwells in those in Christ, and the New Testament holds out stunning hope that Christ’s disciples will honor him not by escaping their human bodies but precisely by enjoying him — and thus glorifying him — in their bodies.
Body Serves Soul
As much as our world oscillates between errors, and many Christians with it, there has long been another path: the one laid out so clearly by the apostle Paul (who wrote often about the human body in his letters). Francis of Assisi observed this road least-traveled, and C.S. Lewis paid him memorable tribute in the last century. Lewis recalls that Francis called the body “Brother Ass,” which Lewis defends:
Ass is exquisitely right because no one in his senses can either revere or hate a donkey. It is a useful, sturdy, lazy, obstinate, patient, lovable and infuriating beast; deserving now a stick and now a carrot; both pathetically and absurdly beautiful. So the body. (Four Loves, 93)
For Christians, the magnificent beasts that are our bodies are worthy of love but not worship; they are infuriating but not to be hated. We may have affection for them like a brother and find them stubborn as a donkey. “Pathetically and absurdly beautiful” indeed.
However, the adjective that strikes me most in Lewis’s florid list is useful. Oh, the usefulness of these lovable, infuriating beasts. The human body is useful in giving us the priceless powers of seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting, touching, lifting, pulling, and moving. If you have an able body, you are rich beyond compare. What wealth would a blind man trade for working eyes, or the deaf for hearing? Yet, apart from Christian faith, these bodily abilities facilitate a steady journey to hell. Even for believers, they can become avenues for wandering.
How, then, might our physical bodies be useful in the cause of the Christian life and the pursuit of spiritual joy in God?
‘Marked Effect’
When I Don’t Desire God might be John Piper’s “most practical book” (in his own words). In it, he writes plainly about everyday dynamics for the pursuit of joy in God, including the central place and use of God’s word and our prayers in the fight for joy (as well as the covenant fellowship of the local church).
What many readers may not expect, however, is the focus of his penultimate chapter: “How to Wield the World in the Fight for Joy.” Here Piper wrestles with the relationship between physical causes and spiritual effects and, in particular, “how to use the world of physical sensation for spiritual purposes” (182).
By world, Piper means the sights and sounds of nature, human art and music, poetry and literature, and even the commonplace in our everyday lives. And one vital aspect of this “wielding the world” is the use of our own bodies:
the proper or improper use of our bodies can have a huge effect on the way we experience spiritual reality. . . . Proper eating and exercising and sleeping has a marked effect on the mind and its ability to process natural beauty and biblical truth. (78)
What are these “marked effects,” and how can we wield them in the fight for Christian joy? To answer, we might follow Paul’s own treatment of the dinner table and the marriage bed, and take our cues from there for sleep and exercise as well.
Food and Marriage
Paul’s mention of “bodily training” in 1 Timothy 4:8 does not come out of the blue. In the previous paragraph, he warns Timothy about false teachers who (under demonic influence) forbid marriage and certain foods. They are ascetics who disavow the pleasures of good food and marital intercourse. Paul counters with creation and consecration (1 Timothy 4:1–5).
Creation: God created food and marriage, and he means for those who believe and know the truth (Christians) to receive them with thanksgiving. As Creator, he gives all. As creatures, we receive and enjoy the goodness of his gifts and should give him thanks that he may be honored.
Consecration: God means for us to enjoy his gifts (1) according to what he himself says about food and sex (“by the word of God”) and (2) through our speaking back to him (“and prayer”) in light of his word. This prayer would include words of gratitude to him as well as requesting that he would sanctify our use of his gifts — that he would make the enjoyment of them holy, occasions of serving both physical and spiritual needs. We consecrate our meals and our marriage to him so that he might use these common kindnesses beyond what good they bring to nonbelievers.
From here, Christians might cultivate habits of Scripture intake and prayer that would not only refine their understanding of food and marriage but also use these physical aspects of bodily life for the advance, and not detriment, of the soul.
Sleep and Exercise
Now, expand that to include sleep and exercise. Piper encourages Christians to use the physical world in such a way that our spiritual joy is “more intense and more constant” (183).
That’s amazing! I wonder if you’ve ever thought of it like that. We pursue joy in God not only with an open Bible, on our knees, and gathered in corporate worship. We also can honor God in our bodies by making use of them in our pursuit of joy in him.
Take exercise. Piper notes that “consistent exercise has refining effects on our mental and emotional stability” (203). And I speak from years of experience that while physical exercise does not, on its own, produce spiritual joy, it can indeed serve it. And a cascade of good effects follow (not just physical but spiritual) when sedentary humans get their bodies moving regularly and do some modest upkeep.
Or how about sleep? Here I have far more to learn, and I acknowledge there are some nights, and even rare seasons of life, when God calls us to sleep less. For instance, when parents have young children, particularly newborns, the call of love might leave us often without adequate sleep, even for some months. But few other seasons justify ignoring our creatureliness and the humbling fact that God made us to sleep. Faithful stewardship of our bodies requires rest, and proper sleep is indeed useful in the pursuit of spiritual joy. Says Piper,
For me, adequate sleep is not just a matter of staying healthy. It’s a matter of staying in the ministry — I’m tempted to say it’s a matter of persevering as a Christian. I know it is irrational that my future should look so bleak when I get only four or five hours of sleep several nights in a row. But rational or irrational, that is a fact. And I must live within the limits of facts. (205)
God made us for his goodness in meals and marriage, for the strain (and joy) of exercise and the recovery of sleep, that we might “make our bodies and minds as proficient as possible in their role as physical partners in perceiving the glory of God” (199). Your body matters in the fight for joy.
