to pray for health, to plead for friends.
How can we fail to be restored,
when reached by love that never ends?
How strong, O Lord, are our desires,
how weak our knowledge of ourselves!
Release in us those healing truths
unconscious pride resists or shelves.
Grant that we all, made one in faith,
in your community may find
the wholeness that, enriching us,
shall reach the whole of humankind.
vv. 1, 3, 5
Text: Fred Pratt Green, 1969
Suggested tune: Conditor Alme
A few years ago, I came across a church website that advertised a program called “Tai Chi for Jesus.” Upon first glance, I thought it was the most ridiculous thing I had ever seen. I knew about Tai Chi, and I knew how strongly connected it was to Chinese philosophies, Taoism and Confucianism, as well as Buddhism. It seemed somehow wrong to link this ancient art with the purposes of Jesus. I imagined the traditional tai chi movement names being replaced by biblical themes: “parting wild horse mane” becomes “Moses parting Red Sea,” and “white crane spreading wings” becomes “Holy Spirit descending like dove.”
I recently attended a church-sponsored women's retreat. We were blessed with the presence of a qualified Tai Chi instructor who taught us a few exercises from Qigong, another Chinese art that complements Tai Chi. The basic aim of Qigong, as I understand it, is to increase awareness of the breath and of the energy that flows through the body. If a Christian were to do Qigong, she could very well use the exercises to increase awareness of God and of the movements of the Holy Spirit – which is what many of us attempted to do. After completing the exercises, we all agreed that we felt different. Some said they felt calm and relaxed. Others felt energized and ready to take on the world. For me, it was as though I had done something good for my whole self. I stretched my physical body, I relaxed my mind even as I used it to focus, and I invigorated my soul by tuning in to God’s movement in the world. For once, all the parts were working together.
In the course of our weekly worship, we often acknowledge that we are God’s creation – that God has formed us in God’s image. But for some reason, we tend to forget that God created not only our minds and spirits – the parts unseen – but also our physicality. We come to church to renew our spirits and to edify our minds, but can the church also encourage us to maintain our physical bodies? As members of the body of Christ, the one body made up of many parts, we are called to care for our bodies - our sacred vessels through which God works in mysterious ways. We are also called to care for one another, to encourage each other to treat our bodies well.
The more I think about it, the more I am convinced that it is the church's responsibility to encourage a spirituality of the body – an understanding of our God-given humanity with all the parts working together. After all, an evening walk isn't just something that takes us away from the television, or distracts us from work, but an opportunity to breathe fresh air into the lungs that we use for singing hymns and for speaking justice, a chance to strengthen the legs that carry us out into the world to do God’s work.
I recently attended a church-sponsored women's retreat. We were blessed with the presence of a qualified Tai Chi instructor who taught us a few exercises from Qigong, another Chinese art that complements Tai Chi. The basic aim of Qigong, as I understand it, is to increase awareness of the breath and of the energy that flows through the body. If a Christian were to do Qigong, she could very well use the exercises to increase awareness of God and of the movements of the Holy Spirit – which is what many of us attempted to do. After completing the exercises, we all agreed that we felt different. Some said they felt calm and relaxed. Others felt energized and ready to take on the world. For me, it was as though I had done something good for my whole self. I stretched my physical body, I relaxed my mind even as I used it to focus, and I invigorated my soul by tuning in to God’s movement in the world. For once, all the parts were working together.
In the course of our weekly worship, we often acknowledge that we are God’s creation – that God has formed us in God’s image. But for some reason, we tend to forget that God created not only our minds and spirits – the parts unseen – but also our physicality. We come to church to renew our spirits and to edify our minds, but can the church also encourage us to maintain our physical bodies? As members of the body of Christ, the one body made up of many parts, we are called to care for our bodies - our sacred vessels through which God works in mysterious ways. We are also called to care for one another, to encourage each other to treat our bodies well.
The more I think about it, the more I am convinced that it is the church's responsibility to encourage a spirituality of the body – an understanding of our God-given humanity with all the parts working together. After all, an evening walk isn't just something that takes us away from the television, or distracts us from work, but an opportunity to breathe fresh air into the lungs that we use for singing hymns and for speaking justice, a chance to strengthen the legs that carry us out into the world to do God’s work.
I don't think that we necessarily have to trade in our fellowship time cookies for carrot sticks, but I do think we must take care to offer food that benefits both the body and the soul, including the bodies and souls of those who labored to produce it. Perhaps the church could compile a book of nourishing recipes collected from members of the congregation., or begin a meditative walking group, or start a lunch group to discuss ways of staying mentally and spiritually healthy in the work place. Perhaps our liturgies could address the care of the body in terms of wellness, not only in terms of illness.
Our God is not an invisible God who works only in ways unseen and unheard. Our God works in and through tangible things – through ordinary substances like bread and water, in ordinary acts of cleansing and feeding. And to accomplish God’s most stunning miracle, God took on the form of a human body. Echoing the final verse of "O Christ, the healer," I invite you to seek wholeness in your local faith community.
Our God is not an invisible God who works only in ways unseen and unheard. Our God works in and through tangible things – through ordinary substances like bread and water, in ordinary acts of cleansing and feeding. And to accomplish God’s most stunning miracle, God took on the form of a human body. Echoing the final verse of "O Christ, the healer," I invite you to seek wholeness in your local faith community.
