The Body the Church Forgot
Sanctified in Bodies
Embodied Imagination
“We meet God in our bodies.” (Gaines)
When we neglect the physical, it inevitably suffocates the image of a God who ate, slept, cried, bled, grew, and healed. And whether or not the origin of that neglect is hatred, it will indeed end in hatred. You want to tell me to love God? Ask me when I’ve last eaten. Come now, you want me to tell you a prayer? You’ll find it in the blood beating from heart to head to toe and home again.Don’t ask me of salvation. Listen to the hum of my chest as I now fall asleep. I cannot see the face of God by rejecting my own. -- COLE ARTHUR RILEY, THIS HERE FLESH (Gaines)
We are an embodied people. Christians claim to worship an embodied God. We gather in the ecclesial imagination of a body of that very God.
What if we really believed that? What if those of us who are Wesleyan-Holiness believed and acted as if we are an embodied people? What if we lived into this reality and claimed rather than running from it? But like many of our ongoing credibility gaps (see Wynkoop), we do not actually live out our claims. There is a tremendous gap between what we claim to believe and what many of us teach through our actions, speech, and even teachings. To get specific, the Church of the Nazarene (COTN) has copious words around our concern for the sanctity of life, the care for bodies, the care for embodied people who are oppressed, the concern for recognizing the way some bodies are treated differently than others. The egalitarian belief that the body does not determine fitness for ordination, administration of the sacraments, or leadership and the care for our own bodies by abstaining from harmful activities, substances, and attitudes. Yet, we don’t actually live those words out consistently.
For all the concern over following our doctrines, we have clergy who continue to make claims contrary to our actual doctrines. You see, we have an imperfect doctrine of human sexuality. It is imperfect because we try to hold tension and tension creates imperfection. But if we live out our doctrines with consistency we can at least be honest. But, we don’t seem to be able to live that out. Our doctrine can be summarized into the idea that sexuality is only holy within a monogamous marriage of people of the opposite sex. Of course, we expound by being clear that same-sex attraction or queerness is not inherently sinful, only sexual acts outside of the aforementioned statement are sinful.
This leads to some gaps. But one overwhelming gap is the idea that one cannot see themselves as gay or queer. The way this is expressed is generally something like this: “You cannot call yourself gay and be a Christian. You cannot have any identity that is aligned with a temptation, in fact your only identity must be in Christ.” There are multiple logical, anthropological, and theological problems with such a statement. For Nazarenes, we have our Manual statement and a ruling from our Board of General Superintendents (BGS) that contradict such language. In addition our 2023 General Assembly rejected a resolution that would have insisted we can only have our identity in Christ. It was rejected partly for being illogical. One stated objection: in addition to having an identity in Christ, I am a father, mother, son, etc.
But the language is incongruent with our doctrine as well. The identity section was to be inserted in the section on human sexuality; the very section that makes this idea illogical from a Wesleyan perspective. It also creates credibility gaps against that which we claim. Why, after the rejection of this language, would clergy continue to make the claim that one cannot see themselves as gay? Because there is pressure to be like non-Wesleyans who make inconsistency a mark of their theology. It is also a gap that persists because of a lack of theological depth and understanding of Wesleyan embodied anthropology. That is an expensive gap because filling it requires hard work, open dialogue, and humility. And we have not yet decided we want to do that work.
Why “Identity in Christ” Fails
The COTN was right to reject language of having our sole identity in Christ. In fact, the resolution that was rejected by the full assembly added language about identifying with temptation or sin. That’s the language mentioned above. This was rejected for primarily logical reasons. But I believe that gaps remain because we have not dealt enough with the theological reasons that dissolving our particular identities into Christ are inconsistent with an embodied Wesleyan theology.
Language such as having our sole identity in Christ may seem a pious or holy way to view identity. Paul after all uses similar language in Galatians 3:28.
There is no Jew or Greek, servant or free, male or female: because you are all one in Jesus Christ.
But as with all proof texts, this one fails to prove the identity claim when we look at the broader passage context.
For all those of you who were given baptism into Christ did put on Christ. There is no Jew or Greek, servant or free, male or female: because you are all one in Jesus Christ. And if you are Christ’s, then you are Abraham’s seed, and yours is the heritage by the right of God’s undertaking given to Abraham. (Gal 3:27-29 NRSVue)
Do you see it? We are to be “one in Jesus Christ.” This passage is about how our differences do not keep us from being one in Christ, not about those differences melting into one. If that were the case Paul’s description of the Church as a body in 1 Corinthians would be irrelevant. You can’t be a diverse body with all the parts dissolved into one. You can have a unity of purpose as a body and that purpose is to be clothed with Jesus - to reflect the goodness of God.
If we adopt or live out the idea of our only identity being in Christ, then race, gender, or disability do not matter. But our doctrines claim these do matter in recognition of how the world twists and warps the value of human beings based upon our differences. It is hard to repent of racism if you claim that race is unimportant for example. Waving aside differences with a doctrinal claim of only identity is a dead end, and the COTN saw it as a dead end.
More than a dead end, it is an accommodation of Platonic dualism and one of the roots of Gnosticism. The logical argument is enough to reject the “only identity in Christ” language. But the theological cost is deeper than logic.
Wesleyans reject the idea of sanctification as an escape from the body. No, for Wesleyans, sanctification happens in and through the body. The cross is our example - the body of Jesus the Christ beaten and hung on a tree points to the redemption of the body in resurrection and ascension. Jesus did not escape his embodiment and neither do we.
It is in our bodies that we are sanctified, because Wesleyans believe sanctification is a reality that comes in this life, not something deferred to the next. Our identity is sanctified through the body of Jesus and through our own bodies. Our clergy forget this when trying to impose platonic ideas about identity onto our Wesleyan conviction of embodied holiness. Wesleyans believe in embodied sanctification because we take seriously the origin story of scripture. Rev. Shawna Gaines says it this way:
My work is grounded in a theological anthropology that begins in Genesis 1 and not Genesis 3, a view of creation and bodies created by God in love, made in God’s image, and called very good (Gen 1:31). God created a people who are creative, giving birth to new ideas, inventions, art forms, organizations, and bodies. And it is very good! (p. 67)
Placing our identity outside this reality and theological belief does damage to our doctrines.
The Body as a Site of Grace
For Wesleyans, the body is not a problem to be solved. The body is the site of God’s labor. We can connect the quote of beginnings with a wider understanding of the metaphor of midwifery from Shawna Gaines. We are a people who need new birth, but as Nicodemus recognizes, this is not a return to the womb. No, it is a new birth within the body we have now. Ours is a labor of the body being newly born.
As I mentioned previously, we are embodied and sanctified, not disembodied and sanctified. Our bodies are means of grace because they carry the reality of human experience. The one in whom we are discipled, Jesus, carried embodiment into the heavens. Yet we continue to act as if our bodies are anchors to the world rather than entrances into the Kingdom of God. Like labor, sanctification is the sometimes painful experience of the incredible joy of new life. New creation cannot come disembodied because creation is itself the substantive reflection of goodness.
This helps us understand that desire is never the enemy. Disordered desire is the enemy. But what is disordered desire? It is desire that has turned in on itself - a lust for power, wealth, another human being. Disordered desire can never be quenched because it feeds only upon more desire. Wesleyans have traditionally called this concupiscence: desire curved inward, away from God and neighbor.
We can see disordered desire at work in both poles that attempt to stretch the human being. The sexual revolution insists that sexuality is nothing more than a physical act; desire expressed is desire fulfilled. Purity culture responds by treating human beings as helpless pawns to animal desires that must be contained. Neither has a good answer for an embodied theology of humanity. Desire is not self-actualized lust that must be expressed or quenched, nor is it a thing that must be ignored or suppressed.
But attraction is not the same as desire. This is where careful distinction matters, especially when we talk about same-sex attraction. Our understanding is better expressed this way: attraction is what we experience as human beings in a general sense - we find people, ideas, experiences compelling for reasons we do not always control. Same-sex attraction and opposite-sex attraction are both forms of this general human experience. What matters theologically is not the direction of the attraction but what we do with it - how it is taken up into the life of sanctification.
But desire is also not sin until it becomes a consuming, disordered lust. Desire can be sanctified and shaped by becoming like Jesus. This does not entail our attractions changing, but it shapes our desires to be centered in a Christlike life. Pastorally, we often find ourselves sitting with someone for whom desire has become disordered. This can be in many contexts including sexuality, adrenaline rushes, food, drugs, alcohol, and so many other things. But whatever the desire, we can lead with grace and mercy by being with the person whose life is being transformed into Christlikeness. We also must trust the Spirit in these interactions.
Much like a midwife does not control the birth, pastors do not control the path of sanctification. Nor do we control responses to the Spirit. That is the work of prevenient grace and love. We can let go of the desire to control and become free to minister.
Orientation, Identity, and the Life of Sanctification
If orientation is not sin then what is it? That is a legitimate and important question for anyone who cares about a life of holiness. The simple path is to label orientation with categorical certainty, but life is not easily categorized. Life is complex and we are a complex species. So here is my attempt: orientation is a feature of embodied existence that, like all embodied features, is taken up into the life of sanctification. It is not the whole of a person’s identity, but it is not nothing either.
The pastoral vocation of the church is not to resolve the tension of affirming or rejecting human beings, but to accompany people in the tension while the Holy Spirit does the work. We are a people who claim the grace of prevenience, yet we flee from the very tension that prevenient grace brings. This is a move Andrew Root would call sitting with people on their sorrow. (Root)
Concretely, this looks like a pastor sitting across from a young adult who has trusted them enough to say, “I don’t know what to do with this part of myself.” The pastor’s first instinct may be to reach for a category - to classify, to resolve, to give an answer. But the midwife knows that birth cannot be rushed. The pastoral task is not to have the right answer ready. It is to stay in the room, to trust that the Spirit is already laboring in this person’s life, and to accompany them while the Spirit works. That is harder than having a rule. It is also more faithful to a Wesleyan theology of embodied grace.
In the end neither orientation nor identity are barriers to sanctification. That is because sanctification, like any work of grace, is a move of God. We cooperate, but it is only through God that we are sanctified. It is not only individuals who need sanctification. The Church also needs sanctification in our understanding of orientation. We need better language, categories, and better pastoral practices. We need better willingness to sit in the discomfort of not having it all figured out.
The Pastor as Midwife to Embodied Holiness
The pastor who trusts the Spirit’s labor stops needing to have the right answer. Instead, the pastoral task is accompaniment - we are accompanying people in labor. Every person in our lives is laboring with life’s curveballs and with the transformative work of the Holy Spirit. There are so many things we cannot control, and our calling is to trust the Spirit rather than attempt to control the labor.
Continuing this idea, pastoral work is one of informed consent when done properly. Human beings are active participants in the work of transformative holiness. They are not passive recipients of pastoral pronouncements (at least they should not be). We definitely do not rain shame upon people. “Shame is the enemy of intimacy and the greatest obstacle to true maturity in Christ” (Gaines) Human beings are not going to experience transformation if we keep putting roadblocks in their paths.
What does this look like on a Sunday morning? It looks like a sermon with a different kind of authority - not the authority of someone who has all the answers, but the authority of someone who has learned to trust the Spirit’s work in bodies she does not control. It names the complexity of human desire honestly, without flinching, and then trusts the congregation to sit in that complexity rather than rushing to resolve it. It looks like a small group where someone can say “I don’t have this figured out” and the response is not a corrective but a quiet “neither do I. Let us walk together.” That kind of space is not soft or directionless. It is harder to create than a rule. And it is the only kind of space where real transformation happens.
A pastor who midwifes embodied holiness creates space for people to wrestle with their desires in community without fear of condemnation and without the pressure to have it all figured out. This is hard. It is also worth it. Imagine walking with people being birthed into new life, seeing moments of transformation and growth into the likeness of Jesus. That becomes possible when we stop needing to be certain. Rules are easy. Embodied transformation is hard.
The Body Christ Is Birthing
In the introduction to The Pastor as Midwife Gaines quotes Barbara Brown Taylor:
New life starts in the dark. Whether it is a seed in the ground, a baby in the womb, or Jesus in the tomb, it starts in the dark. --BARBARA BROWN TAYLOR, LEARNING TO WALK IN THE DARK
The church may be in the dark on how we better explain, minister, or find language, but it is in that early darkness that life springs forth. What if we approached our mission to invite people into discipleship by seeing this as a birthing process rather than a systematic sales pitch? What difference does embodiment make to the church in difficult conversations?
I imagine it looks like the church in which each and every person sees themselves as participants in new birth. Imagine the church in which those who make us uncomfortable reach out in their own discomfort to kneel and pray with someone they see is hurting? I can imagine a line of human beings kneeling at altars, embraced in mutual prayers of anguish and joy, of heartache and new life.
It may even look like the Wesleyan choice to trust the Spirit working in and through bodies over time. Trusting that in time healing and transformation will take place in all of us, but not rushing the Spirit to perform for us. It is the Wesleyan invitation to be bathed in the grace and love of God until that love overflows into those around us. I have no conclusions or pithy bite-sized solutions. What I do have is many questions, the biggest being
Where is the Spirit laboring that we are afraid to attend?
Gaines, Shawna Songer. The Pastor as Midwife: Life-Giving Leadership for the Healing of the Church. IVP Academic, n.d.
Root Andrew. Evangelism in an Age of Despair: Hope beyond the Failed Promise of Happiness.