Bodily Theology

I’ve not been sleeping too well this week. As I lay awake in the middle of the night, my mind began to wander to my body. Mindfulness body scanning is a tool I have used often, but this was less intentional. And for some reason, I was drawn to my abdomen. My bowel.

Who would have thought I’d start exploring theology from the point of my bowel? But for many disabled people, so much of our lives are ruled by our bowels, from IBS to stomas, that the phrase ‘go with your gut’ brings a whole new meaning. We explore theology from so many starting points, so why shouldn’t we consider theology through the lens of our bowels?

In letters to Churches established in Ephesus, Corinth and Rome, Paul uses the metaphor that we are all parts of the body of Christ. So many of us want to live our lives as the hands and feet, doing acts of service and worship that testify to God’s love in the world. This often makes us feel good, feels rewarding, and allows us to say we are living out our faith practically. All of which is great. But I’ve always been fascinated about the implications of this metaphor for the less appealing parts of the body.

Who are the bowels? Who chooses to be the gut in the body of Christ, processing all that comes into the body and separating the nutrients from the waste. Who chooses to actively push out the waste until it is within the body no more? Who chooses to deal with the unseemly byproducts of this process, remaining sealed off from the rest of the body to prevent contamination and illness.

It seems to me, not enough of us!

If our own bodies just allowed everything within our diet to permeate our bodies, we wouldn’t last very long. We’d have too much of good things, and far too much of bad. We’d be poisoned, dysfunctional and our life would be significantly shortened.

If our own bodies separated the wheat from the chaff, as it were, and we didn’t then have a process to expel the waste, we wouldn’t last long either. We’d become bloated and uncomfortable. I imagine in rather a lot of pain. And life expectancy would be minimal. That’s why we have such things as stomas, miracles to keep us alive when we otherwise would have no chance of survival.

What does this mean for me? Well, I never imagined I’d be writing a piece on intestinal function for starters! But the more I consider the meaning of my night time rambling thought, the more I think there is something in it. We need more people who aren’t afraid of getting into the nitty gritty of what is taken in by the Church, and calling out that which is not healthy to hold onto. Homophobia, for example. We need more people who are active in the process of expelling the poison when things have been held onto for too long. Prioritising the institution over victims of abuse, for example. Does this make The Ordinary Office a holy laxative?

So yes, I am happy as part of the bowel in the body of Christ. I’ll do my messy work and I’ll celebrate the importance of keeping the rest of the body healthy. It may mean I am viewed with disgust by some, set apart by others and ignored as a necessary evil by yet more. But I hope more of you will consider being active in the digestive system of our shared body, being more discerning of what is held in and what can be let go. After all, laxatives have their place but regularity is best!

A prayer for Bowels.

God, we need our bowels but they do give us trouble.

Discomfort, smells, wind or pain.

Soothe our bodily pains, Spirit who heals.

Bless us with functionality over infirmity.

Give us wisdom to embrace all parts of our bodies, physically and within our community.

For we all have something to contribute in the ever expansive love story between God and humanity.

In Jesus name we pray.

Amen.