February 6, 2005 Des Moines

TEXT:  1 Corinthians 6:12-20

You Are A Package Deal

Once upon a time I was speaking with a group of high school students.  The subject was sexual activity outside of marriage, and we talked about the risk of disease and the possibility of pregnancy; we talked of rights and wrongs and various implications.  I remember that it got to be, in some ways, an awkward evening because it took on a certain “Crossfire” flavor -- adversarial rather than dialogic.  It suddenly became their job to say that that kind of activity was all right, and mine to argue that it wasn't.  One, in particular, argued the case:  "it doesn't make any difference," he said, "because it doesn't mean anything.  It's just a physical act."

It wasn’t finally much different from a phone call I had received another time, from a married person involved in an extra-marital affair.  Devastated at the prospect of losing his wife who had unearthed the thing, he was, at the same time, a little miffed by her response.  "Why doesn't she understand that I still love her; that this other doesn't mean anything?  It was just physical."

A group of high school kids; a married adult.  Both living in the vicinity of Corinth, where a similar conversation was going on.  There, some of the church people had apparently been helping out the local economy - "shopping Corinth first" by patronizing the neighborhood prostitutes.  Among their several arguments in defense, is this now-familiar one:  "It doesn't make any difference what I do with my physical body; it's just a physical act.  My spirit is OK."

It made sense to them.  Their's, like that of most of the Biblical people's, was a culture in which most other religions provided rituals and ceremonies without questioning or making any demand upon the worshiper's life-style (Craddock, Proc. 2, p. 20) 

Unfortunately, the Corinthians hadn't listened closely enough to the faith of Moses and Jesus, for whom the two - life-style and worship - were inseparable.

Without even reading Paul's letter, you can probably guess where he comes down.  What I appreciate about Paul, here, is not simply his response, but also the way in which he responds.  When I listen in on moral arguments between people, someone will eventually drop the bomb:  "The Bible says it's wrong," and leave it at that; resolving nothing, but killing the conversation.  If that was ever appropriate or sufficient, and I doubt it ever was, it certainly isn't today.

For one thing, I don't believe scripture asks for that kind of blind authority.  It is not a capricious parent that responds to questions with a flippant "Because I said so."  In spite of the way it is so often used - even today – it is not a book of rules, nor is it a mere leather bound list of don'ts and things to give up.  It is not a piece of stone with which to be hit over the head, but rather bread with which to be nourished.  It is the story of God and God's people - what the early Christians came to call "good news," because of the goodness of the new life it pumped into their beings.  "Good news" is a label that we continue to use, but have too often ceased to mean.

The Bible does not preempt your mind, but engages it, calling you, as you read it, to a different worldview - a different way of organizing the pieces of life around you.  At least I think that's what Paul believed.  And because of that, the people reading his letter hear more than a reminder that "the Bible says it's wrong."  You hear a reason, and in the reason an invitation to a different way of understanding life.

The Corinthians - and us following them - got their notion of life from the Greeks who believed that the real self is the spirit, imprisoned within a body.  The body, in that understanding, was irrelevant, at best, and an evil at worst.  If irrelevant, then it didn't make much difference what you did with it.  If evil, then deny it in every way possible.  Since the latter usually involves pain, most people through the ages - the Corinthians, that group of kids with whom I visited, and that husband - have chosen the former option.  "We are spiritual people.  What we do with the flesh that packages it doesn't matter.

The Hebrews, however, conceived of personhood in very different terms.  Body and mind and spirit are none so divisible; rather they are intimately and inseparably a part of each other:  in other words, we don't have a body; we are a body.  We don't have a spirit, we are a spirit.  The mind in the same way.  Our "self" is a whole made up of all three.  What touches one, touches the other.  We are a unified, inseparable whole.  Some have understood that all along.  Others of us are only beginning to learn. 

The growing field of wholistic medicine knows this connection to be true; our new consciousness about healthy foods, nicotine, caffeine, etc. is an expression of the fact that we are beginning to recover a sense of the body's interrelatedness.  And it goes beyond what we eat.  Surely we know that to hit a child does not simply hurt her body; it bruises her personhood as well.  And finally, consider the effects of our way of life.

In their book simply titled Stress, Walter McQuade and Ann Aikman introduced now over 20 years ago the research of Dr. Ray Rosenman and Dr. Meyer Friedman, physicians specializing in coronary problems and stress.  In early inquiries, advertising men and engineers were asked what factors seemed to have preceded heart attacks among friends and colleagues.  Those surveyed were given ten choices, including all the standard risks such as diet and cigarette consumption, plus anxiety, work, excessive competition, and stress and making deadlines.  Fewer than 3 percent mentioned the normal risk items, and fewer than 4% selected anxiety or work.  More than 70% picked excessive competition and the stress of making deadlines. (p. 25)

Later, the two doctors studied accountants, measuring this time statistics rather than opinion.  All were asked to keep detailed diaries of what they ate, and Friedman and Rosenman arranged to examine each twice a month, measuring cholesterol levels during both slack periods and times of heavy pressure.  Two significant cholesterol peaks occurred:  first, when the accountants were closing out the yearly books of their clients in January, and again in March to mid-April when they were heavily involved in preparing income tax returns.  The levels fell off during months of more placid work.  (p. 25) 

The pressures and concerns that occupy our minds and spirits, are not simply emotional, psychological realities, but physical ones as well.

And I guess it strikes me as ironic that teenagers, like those with whom I visited, of all people, don't understand that inter-relatedness right off.  Their faces are the greatest proof of what I'm talking about.  When I was in school, my complexion deteriorated in direct proportion to the importance of the exam, or the attractiveness of the date I was to pick up that night.  My body was directly affected by my mental state.  We are a whole.  It all goes together - body, mind, and spirit.  There is no such thing as "a purely physical act."  What you do with your body, you with your "self".

But, finally, that's not even the bottom line of it.  Important as that concept may be to understanding our true selves and the way we are put together, that's not the last thing that must be said.  It wasn't for Paul.  It's not just that to abuse your body - in whatever way you may happen to choose, from recreational sex, to over-eating - abuses your whole self; it also abuses the very spirit of God, whose temple you are.

Fred Craddock tells the story of walking into a country church in which he was to preach, to find two of the deacons seated behind the communion table waiting, with their feet propped up on the table.  "I don't know," he reflected, "it's hard to say just what, but something about it seemed inappropriate - it's a church for goodness sake; it's the communion table. It's just not the way we treat the church."

In Houston, the church where I worked used to get burglarized rather frequently.  We had security gates in every hallway that would regularly get bent out of shape in the night.  The response from people was uniform:  I can't understand someone who would break into a church of all things.  There's just something inappropriate about it.

Paul would have us feel just as protective of our selves - for the same reasons; would have us feel the same sense of propriety about ourselves.  There are just some things you don't do to yourself - just the same as you wouldn't prop your feet up on the communion table.  You are the temple of God, for God's sake, and because of that you are unsuited either for abuse or indifference.

In fact, Paul finishes, its finally more than even that.  To mistreat yourself - be it morally, physically, or mentally, is to vandalize someone else's property, because you are not your own.  You do not belong to yourselves but to God; he bought you for a price.  There is caution in that I think; perhaps correction as well.  But challenge I think, too.  And inspiration; just maybe "good news."  What that means is that what you do is important, not trivial or irrelevant.  Nothing about you is for throwing away - what you think, what you feel, what you do - all of you.  Because all of it is you.  And because all of it is God's.  Dare you waste it?