I’m listening to an audiobook a friend recommended. It’s a book about body, mind and soul. Early on, the author talks about living in an integrated way - where I am the same Shannon in this newsletter, at church, at work, at home. A few chapters later, there is mention of the body as temple, housing the Holy Spirit. I’ve heard this before, but for some reason today it struck me as perhaps one answer to my question of why we have bodies.
Here’s the verse (1 Corinthians 6:19) in a few different translations:
Or do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, which you have from God, and that you are not your own? (NRSVA)
Or didn’t you realize that your body is a sacred place, the place of the Holy Spirit? (MSG)
Or have you forgotten that the Holy Spirit lives in you as Creator’s gift to you, and that your body is not your own but is his sacred lodge? (FNV1)
God is nothing if not intentional and I’ve pondered for a decade or so the intention behind human bodies. We’re told our bodies are created in God’s image. Our bodies allow us to experience creation. Yet I sometimes think of my body as less important than my soul or mind. What am I supposed to learn from having a body? How am I to use my body to make this world a better place? What’s the point of this flesh and body container that breaks, fractures, metastasizes?
All of these questions have a different tone and tenor if I think of my body first as temple (NRSVA translation). Initially, Jewish temples were only entered a few times each year - and only the priest could enter the Holy of Holies. Later (after the death of Jesus), temples became centers for daily life. Seen in this light, what a gift it is that my body can house the Holy Spirit. I don’t have to travel periodically to check in with God. God is right here, right now, wherever I am.
The Message translation calls our bodies sacred places. Over the last decade or so, I’ve begun to see the line between sacred and secular as blurry at best. It seems to me the best delineator of something’s sacredness is my own attention to it. A tree that I drive past without seeing it is natural and secular. But a tree that is lovingly planted, carefully tended, noticed becomes sacred before my very eyes. Like me, that tree was created and reflects the Creator.
The First Nations Version of the New Testament calls bodies sacred lodges. From the light research I did, it seems these lodges traditionally were/are places of wisdom and presence - sometimes compared to the womb.
Whether temple, sacred place or sacred lodge, these ideas call to mind my body as a thin place. A New York Times article describes thin places as “places that beguile and inspire, sedate and stir, places where, for a few blissful moments I loosen my death grip on life, and can breathe again.” I think of a thin place as one where heaven and earth meet, where the barrier between past, present and future is translucent.
What if the desire to be “thin” isn’t about our physical appearance, but our closeness to God?
What if the aches and pains in my body are like sacrifices in the temple of old?
What if the crunch of the snow, the light reflecting and my body moving through it are sacred?
What if my body’s knowledge is a gift from God, guiding me one way, steering me away from another?
What if the way you and I move through the world brings love that little bit closer?
What if our bodies are agents of change in this broken place we call home?
A Thin Place
I drive through the gates
And feel my soul exhale.
Memories float in the very air
Reminding me of retreats past.
This place is a thin place
Where the barrier to heaven is threadbare.
Even in my sleep
I find that prayer comes easily,
My voice joining those who have gone before.
The ground I walk
The trails I tread
Are saturated with prayers
In this thin place
Where the barrier to heaven is threadbare.
In the beautiful chapel,
With a river of holy water running through,
I am washed clean
By harmonies and melodies.
And I wonder:
Is this a thin place
Because the prayers have worn away
The things that keep heaven afar?
Hope catches my heart.
Can my own prayers wear away
The things that make me less like Jesus?
May my soul be a thin place
Where the barrier to heaven is threadbare.
What do you think bodies are for? What was your body made to do? Where have you experienced a thin place?
Book Corner:
What I’ve Been Reading Lately
via eBook:
How to Bake a Perfect Life by Barbara O’Neal
I came across this book as recommended to me years ago. It was sweet and entertaining, but I could have used another layer of depth to some of the issues presented (PTSD, addicted parents, abandoned children, teenage pregnancy, etc.).
via Library audiobook:
Anatomy of the Soul by Curt Thompson, MD
As I reference above, this book integrates faith and science in a way that’s very appealing and approachable for me. I’m thoroughly enjoying it.
May your body feel sacred and whole this week. May it show you its wisdom and connect you to God.
Love,
Shannon
First Nations Version: an Indigenous translation of the New Testament
What a rich post so many directions!! Thank you. (and I do love that Powells bookstore made the list of thin places for the NYT writer)