Are Our Bodies Containers?
There is a long standing debate in philosophy over whether something exists other than matter and energy as physics understands them. Some will say that aside from a little bit of chance, everything in the universe is either matter or interactions between matter that follow the same basic rules: gravity, electro-magnetism, strong nuclear force, etc. However, religious people throughout history have contended that there is something mysterious that goes beyond these basic interactions. If we are to believe in a God that is not simply the universe itself, but rather a personal being with powers that can defy science, then we must believe that something else exists in the world. On a cosmic scale, this is the question of whether God exists and how God interacts with the universe, but this question also applies on a much smaller scale. Do humans have something in them that goes beyond matter? Some call it a soul, a spirit, a will, or a mind. But whatever we call it, the question is the same. Is there some force animating humans that goes beyond molecules spinning in relatively empty space or are we merely products of matter, energy, and luck?
Broadly speaking, Christians would say, “yes.” We are more than just our bodies. There is some invisible spirit that animates us, and this spirit is what interacts most directly with God. The Holy Spirit works on our will, our soul, to turn us into something greater than mere flesh seeking fleshly desires. This seems to be Paul's perspective, and there is something genuinely appealing to it. Our bodies are fragile and sometimes death comes tragically early to people. We want to imagine that they will live on beyond the grave because the spark of life that animated them is immortal. Furthermore, our bodies are often disappointingly susceptible to temptation. Our bodies desire to eat, sleep, and reproduce. Biology seems to drive us toward those basic things and little else. We want a way to distance ourselves from these base desires. We want to imagine ourselves as more than lazy and hungry, but to strive toward something greater. When we fail, we want something to blame. When we cheat on our diet, we want to echo the words of Jesus when he catches the disciples sleeping before his arrest in Matthew 26:41: “The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak.” It’s not my fault. I didn’t want this. I simply couldn’t contend with the desires of my body.
Furthermore, there is something liberating to distancing ourselves from the things we don't like about our bodies. I'm not a fitness guru. I'm not an Instagram model. I may be out of shape and a little lumpy. I may eat too many carbs and it shows. Maybe I slouch too much or have a bad knee, but that isn't really who I am. I am my spirit. Don’t judge me by my body but by who I am on the inside. My body is simply a container to hold me during my time on earth.
However, when we phrase it like that, Christians may have a problem with it. Is my body merely a container for my spirit? Well, hopefully not if I actually like my body. If I enjoy the way I move and look, if my hands have been strengthened from years of hard work, if I have overcome health obstacles and my body has gotten me through difficult times, maybe I don't want to distance myself from it. Theologically speaking, when God created the world, it was good. The heresy of Marcionism taught that the God of the Old Testament was secretly evil and matter was fundamentally corrupted, but Jesus came from a different God, one who would save Christians from this corrupted world. Obviously, by the fact that this is considered heresy, we know that we don't hold to these views anymore. We believe matter itself is good. It may have been corrupted by sin, but God didn't create a sinful world initially. Therefore, the stuff of our bodies, even the flesh that Paul condemns, isn't inherently evil.
In 2 Corinthians 5:1-5, Paul addresses this issue. He refers to our mortal bodies and lives as a tent that we dwell in, something temporary. He first expresses certainty that if it is destroyed, in death, God will give us a new tent, an eternal one not made with human hands. One might expect Paul to criticize the frailty of the tent we currently occupy, and you would be correct. He talks about how we groan in this body, awaiting the new one. However, he doesn't reject our current bodies entirely. Rather, he says that we don't want to throw off our tent and be “unclothed” but rather we long to be further clothed. We don't want to reject the body. We want to improve the body.
Perhaps we can see some continuity in bodies between the temporal one we occupy now and the eternal one to come. Certainly, there is a parallel in portrayals of the resurrected Christ still bearing the marks of his crucifixion. Our eternal bodies aren't entirely different from what we have now, but are the culmination and perfection of this life. Our bodies aren't merely the vessel for our spirit. They are the blueprint of things to come. We should care for and respect our bodies because while there will certainly be an improvement, the new will fit the old in some important ways.
Perhaps we should consider expanding this logic beyond our bodies. It is true that when Christ returns and God's kingdom comes in its fullness, many things will change. Hate, fear, and injustice will be shaken out and love and joy will stand eternal. We will live in the world God intended for us. However, we shouldn't imagine that everything will be completely reset. The good that we see in our world today will continue into the new world. Matter is good, and what God does with it through us can also be good. We wait eagerly, through prayers and groans, for God's coming kingdom, but while we wait, we also work, because our mortal bodies and this temporal world will be the foundations upon which God builds the eternal kingdom.
