I am training for the Disney Half Marathon. Not the princess marathon, or the star wars marathon, I am training for the Wine and Dine Marathon. If I’m going to work that hard I want to eat well afterward. And enjoy a nice glass of wine.
People presume all sorts of good reasons for setting such a goal—to lose weight, to treat depression, to see Mickey Mouse—but I have exactly one reason. I want my body to work better. There are people who believe that food is medicine; I don’t believe that. There are people who believe that exercise helps you lose weight; that is not true. There are people who believe that walking long distances is fun; that has not been my experience. But I am confident that more exercise will make my body work better.
I am my body.
I hang out with many spiritual people. Church folk, of course, and pastors, and also people who see the spirit in magic and in the trees and in the wind. I connect with people who are looking for that indescribable part of life, the piece of us that can’t be explained. We call that spirit, or soul, or god, or God. Spiritual people work on their connections to spirit. I have a prayer routine and a meditation practice, I gather with others for worship, for good works, for community. Wherever two or three are gathered, there we feel the spirit’s presence.
And when I’m with people who feel that sense of the spirit someone invariably says “this is what’s real” or “this gets at who I really am.” When I work with people who have homes there is a desire to know “what’s really there” in people who don’t have homes or who are food insecure. When we practice how to be spiritual companions for people someone often says “we have to find the real spirit in the person.” Good, compassionate goals.
But I don’t think that who we are is only the spiritual part of us. I don’t think that all of who we are is hidden by our physical selves. We are not spiritual beings trapped in bodies. We are not only a spirit. The body is not only a costume, it is not only something that hides who we really are.
I am my body. You are your body. Those we meet have bodies that are a part of who they are.
Unfortunately, bodies give us trouble. In the search for the fast-enough Half Marathon I have had to have my heart checked, my knees poked, and I am now sitting with leg up to reduce swelling in my ankle. I take medicines that keep my lungs accepting air, and my stomach digesting food. As I struggle to make my body better, my body responds with listing the parts that need more work.
This is true for every person we meet. Some people’s bodies struggle with addictions, others with brain disease the cause mental health challenges. Some bodies have hands or fingers or lips that are less nimble, or legs or ankles or feet that are less able to carry them forward. All of this bodied-ness interferes with living our lives to the fullest. And all of this bodied-ness is part of who we are.
We cannot help people by focusing only on what is happening with their spiritual lives. It is not enough to assist only with bodily needs. To see people as they are we are called to see people’s spirits and their bodies. Ask me about my prayer life, but ask me also about my upcoming race.
For my organized thoughts, see my book Five Loaves, Two Fish, Twelve Volunteers: Developing Relational Food Ministries. In this spot are thoughts that appear for a moment--about food programs, mission, church, building community, writing, and whatever else pops into my head.