Of Cabbages and Kings

The medieval period is often thought of as being backward and “unscientific,” denoted by the fact that we also call it the “Dark Ages.” These terms; Dark Ages, Middle Ages, Medieval and even Renaissance, for the time that followed, were applied by people centuries after the fact. The historian Morris Bishop observed that the people of the middle ages didn’t think they were living in the “middle” of anything, that is between the fall and rise of two great civilizations. They thought they were the continuation of ancient culture and tradition, as well as building upon it. Romano Guardini wrote that the medieval mind was much more subtle than it is given credit for today. For them humanity, nature and the spiritual realm were intimately connected, each functioning in harmony with the other. Through the study of actions, attributes and qualities it was possible to know what something was by its nature, and that a being was greater than the sum of its parts or practical function. Reality, including our earthly lives, had a purpose or an end to which it was directed. This end was ordained by God and it was our job, sort to speak, to find where our individual place was in this universal plan.

There is no doubt that at some point after 1350 new intellectual, cultural and scientific movements emerged that would lead to revolutionary changes in society. As the Theology of the Body´s introduction points out, beginning with Francis Bacon (1561—1626) the natural world became seen something to be mastered, controlled and manipulated rather than harmonized with. This process continued with Rene Descartes (1596-1650), further separating humanity, nature and the spiritual realm, putting them at odds with each other. Reality was no longer unified but fragmented, and our ability to know was limited to what could be observed. The nature of something was deemed unknowable, only its function could be discerned. There was no end to which reality was directed beyond what the individual decided it to be. In its extremes it lead to what some philosophers call reductionism; the human person is no more than a composite of parts without purpose or meaning. Human beings are a complex machine made up of the same biological “stuff” as the rest of creation. As the physiologist who discovered vitamin c once noted, “there is no real difference between a king and a cabbage.”

I do describe an extreme view, but this basic reductionism has trickled down to our common way of thinking and viewing the world and ourselves. Since the body has no inherent meaning or purpose beyond this life I can do what I want with it. This can lead, consciously or subconsciously, to accepting substance abuse, sexual excesses or various forms of self mutilation as morally neutral. In the realm of human sexuality specifically, it doesn’t matter who I have relations with since the body is a machine or organism to be satisfied, and nothing more. We need our body, so we’ll be careful about what we eat, to the point that we more and more speak about food in almost moral terms. How we care for the body is important, but what we do with it after is not.

TOB tries to get us back to a more integrated view of the body, that it does have a value and a purpose beyond function and pleasure. We should care for our bodies, certainly. But what we do with this gift we have been given has the greater importance. We are created in God’s image, not just because we have a soul, but the Divine is imaged in our bodies as well (but I’m getting a little ahead of myself). More on the philosophical roots of TOB next time.