Spiritual Decapitation

when your religion & culture encourage disembodiment

Photo by Mika Ruusunen on Unsplash

When I was growing up in the nineties, kids took antibiotics for everything. Earache? Antibiotics. Sore throat? Antibiotics. Weird rash? I dunno, try some antibiotics. I can still taste the cold, pink amoxicillin that lived on the top shelf of the fridge. Pediatricians’ ethos seemed to be, “we have this amazing tool that’s all upside, why not use it whenever we suspect it might just help?”

Doctors knew then that there were such things as good and bad bacteria, but our understanding of the gut biome was in its infancy, and many doctors didn’t stop to think about how guzzling amoxicillin might negatively impact our intestinal tracts. In the years since, new research, coupled with fears about the rise of antibiotic-resistant bacteria, have drastically changed how doctors use these drugs. My ten and twelve-year-old kids have each taken antibiotics exactly once in their lives. Pediatricians’ new mantra seems to be “call me if he’s still sick in two weeks.”

I’m not a doctor, but to my outsider perspective, it seems like medicine has shifted from “fix this one broken part” to grappling with how everything in the body is connected. We know now that if we want to ease someone’s depression, it’s not enough to give them an SSRI prescription, we have to understand more: their current circumstances, their past, even things like diet, exercise, and social connections, because all of that stuff is connected to their mental health.

In the wake of the pandemic, many folks delved into therapy for the first time, and Bessel van der Kolk’s The Body Keeps the Score, originally published in 2014, hit the bestseller list in 2021. Our culture is starting to understand that our bodies are just as important as our minds, and that it’s foolish to think of the two as separate entities.

But how did we get to this idea of the divided self? Western culture loves to create categories and hierarchies. The typical western understanding is mind > body. We hear this in expressions like “mind over matter” and “no pain, no gain.” It’s the way “logic” and “emotions” are seen as entirely separate realms, and that good leaders aren’t “too emotional.” The western ideal is to master our bodies, not be ruled by cravings and feelings.

This ideal has seeped into Christianity as well. Many, if not most western Christians, believe in a thing called a “soul” which is separate from the body and mind. This view is often called “dualism”, and it actually originates in Greek philosophy, not the Bible. The ancient authors of the Bible likely didn’t think of a “soul” as something apart from the body. Think of how the post-resurrection stories of Jesus emphasize his physical body, still bearing the scars of murder.

Christianity didn’t adopt this idea of souls being separate from bodies until around 400 A.D. when St. Augustine, borrowing heavily from Plato, started preaching dualism. He described the soul-body connection as ruptured because of sin. The body was not the same thing as the self, rather, “your body is your wife.”

Reading our English-translated Bibles through our western lens, it’s easy to find passages that advocate for disembodiment. The Apostle Paul talks about the “flesh” being against the “spirit,” which is often understood as bodies vs. souls, with Paul elucidating the things the “flesh” wants: “sexual immorality, impurity and debauchery; idolatry and witchcraft; hatred, discord, jealousy, fits of rage, selfish ambition, dissensions, factions and envy; drunkenness, orgies, and the like.”

AND. THE. LIKE!!!

(My body has, at times, encouraged me to make such unwise choices as staying up too late or eating a third slice of cake, but generally isn’t pushing me into orgies. But no kink-shaming here; to each their own, Paul!)

The problem with prizing the spirit/soul/mind over the body is that we begin to demonize and disconnect from our physical bodies. We ignore our needs for food, water, or rest, we ignore our pain or the feeling that someone might be dangerous. Many Christian teachers emphasize Bible verses such as “the heart is deceitful above all things” or “lean not on your own understanding,” but instead insisting we blindly follow their authority. But just like that amoxicillin I drank as a kid didn’t just affect my throat, this disconnection from our bodies impacts us physically and mentally. We can’t heal mentally or spiritually while still ignoring our bodies.

How do we reconnect and reclaim our bodies? This process is called “embodiment.” In her book, The Wisdom of Your Body, therapist Hillary L. McBride explains,

“Experiencing this connection between our mind and body has profound significant political, relational, philosophical, ecological, and spiritual implications. It changes everything about how we experience ourselves and others, drawing us into deeper wisdom and often providing us with insight that a fragmented way of being could not produce.”

So this month I want to practice tuning in and listening to my body; and I want to try to stop shaming it. Learning to love my body feels like a tall order, but maybe we can reach a detente—like roommates who don’t really get along but have to share a bathroom.

To help in this quest I’m reading a few Hillary McBride books, but I’m always looking for more embodiment recommendations. Drop a rec in the comments if you have one. And let me know what you think about souls, too—do you believe in them? How do you picture them?

BONUS MATERIALS:

• Looking for embodiment exercises? Check out this book

• Did you know that singing in a choir can help you heal from trauma? Check out this cool one day choir clip

• “What if water is God?”