THe practice of freedom: Breaking the chains of bodily shame Part 7

We live in a world that is obsessed with the physical mirror., the lense, the media.
Day after day, we are bombarded by images telling us what we should look like.
The world sets a plastic standard: if you are too heavy, too short, too old, too scarred,
or if your anatomy does not match the latest ideal, you are subtly—or sometimes brutally—told that you should be ashamed.
Sadly, that shame cuts deep.
It ruins lives, damages marriages, and leaves people feeling trapped in their own skin.
Some people spend fortunes trying to alter their bodies simply to escape the judgment of others
—or, sadly, the judgment they have learned to impose upon themselves.
But what does God say?
If we look to the fullness of the Truth—that which the Church has received and proclaimed—
we find a reality that can begin to break the chains of bodily shame and set us free.

The fig leaves

To understand why we experience such anxiety about our bodies, we have to go back to the very beginning.
The Church has long reflected upon the mystery that, when Adam and Eve were created in Paradise, they were naked and yet felt no shame.
Genesis tells us: “And they were both naked, the man and his wife, and were not ashamed.” — Genesis 2:25
Why was there no shame?
The Great Saints of the Church often saw in this a mystery far deeper than mere physical nakedness.
Meaning , Adam and Eve were understood as being clothed in the glory of God’s presence—in the radiance of Divine Life.
They did not look at one another with lust, judgment, fear, or comparison.
They saw one another within the beauty and goodness of God’s creation. Then came the Fall.

When humanity turned away from God, the harmony of creation was broken.
The eyes of Adam and Eve were opened, and suddenly their nakedness became something from which they wanted to hide.
They sewed fig leaves together. The fig leaves were not merely about clothing.
They became an image of humanity’s attempt to hide our vulnerability from God, from one another, and even from ourselves.
And perhaps many of our modern bodily anxieties are echoes of those ancient fig leaves.
We want to hide. We want to cover. We want to change. We want to become acceptable.
Now, of course, there is nothing wrong with caring responsibly for our bodies.
We may lose weight for health, exercise to strengthen ourselves, seek medical treatment, or make sensible changes to our appearance.
The problem begins when our body becomes the measure of our worth.
That is when the fig leaves become chains.

When shame becomes a weapon

This is where spiritual warfare can enter.
The evil one is a tyrant who looks for our deepest wounds.
If someone has treated you cruelly, rejected you, mocked your appearance,
or made you feel inadequate because of your body, the enemy can seize upon that wound.
A deceptive thought—a logismos—can enter the heart: “You are deformed.” “You are a failure.”
“You are not enough.” “No one could really love you as you are.” If we accept the lie, shame begins to take root.
Vanity then teaches us to measure our worth by the broken and superficial standards of a passing world.
We become prisoners of the mirror.
We begin comparing ourselves with other people.
We become afraid of being seen.
We may withdraw from friendships, intimacy, and even the Life of the Church because we fear rejection.
The enemy wants us looking endlessly at ourselves.
Christ calls us to look toward Him.

To understand and work toward living this: where the evil one binds, the Lord liberates! Christ is the Great Physician!
He does not measure your worth according to the standards of modern fashion.
He does not love the beautiful more than the scarred, the young more than the old, the thin more than the heavy, or the healthy more than the sick.
He sees the person. He sees the image of God.
And He came to save the whole person—body and soul.
At the end of the age, in the Resurrection, Christ will not discard our bodies as though the body were the problem.
He will resurrect us!
The Church’s hope is not escape from the body but the redemption and glorification of the whole human person.
Your identity remains.  You will still be you. The person God created and knows will not disappear.
Your body will be raised. Death, corruption, disease, and every consequence of humans turning from God Who is Life will no longer have the final word.
As St Paul says, what is sown in corruption is raised in incorruption; what is sown in weakness is raised in power.
We will not be resurrected as ghosts.
We will receive the fullness of the Life for which humanity was created.
And in the mystery of the Transfiguration, the Church gives us a glimpse of that glory:
Christ’s humanity shining with the Divine Glory on Mount Tabor.
The Chruch speaks of the human person being restored to the glory for which we were created.
The fig leaves will finally be unnecessary.  There will be no ranking systems. No sexual comparison.
No social beauty contests. No measuring ourselves against the bodies of others. No fear of being seen. No shame.
We will look upon ourselves and upon one another within the perfect love of God. And there will be peace.

So how do we begin Living in that freedom now?
We need to learn the difference between self-obsession and God centered self-love and live in God centered self-love!
The Church Saints used a Greek word philautia, love of self, which can become disordered when the self becomes the centre of our existence.
Disordered self-love says: “How do I look?” “How do I compare?” “What do people think of me?” “How can I make myself acceptable?”
It keeps returning us to the mirror. But holy self-love in Christ begins somewhere entirely different.
We receive ourselves as creatures loved by God saying:
“This body is a temple of the Holy Spirit. It may be heavy. It may be scarred. It may be aging. It may have been wounded.
The world may reject it—but Christ did not!
Christ died to save the whole of me, and He will raise and glorify me.”
That is not vanity. That is gratitude. That is humility.
That is freedom.
So do not spend your precious energy trying to make your body worthy of love.
It already is worthy of love because God created you and Christ died for you.
Care for your body. Treat it responsibly. Seek medical help when you need it. Exercise. Eat well. Dress as you wish with modesty.
Make sensible changes when they are genuinely good for you. But do not worship your reflection.
Do not allow the standards of a passing age to become the judge of your worth.
Bring your wounded heart to Christ. Drop the plastic standards of this age. Step out of the enemy’s prison.
And begin preparing your whole self—body and soul—for the glory that Christ promises in the Resurrection at the end of the age.

Whose mirror are you looking into?
When you feel anxious about your body, are you judging yourself by the fading standards of modern culture,
or by the eternal dignity God has given you?
Where are the “fig leaves” in your life?
What are you trying to hide from others—or even from yourself?
In what ways might the enemy be using past rejection, comparison, or physical insecurity to isolate you from other people and from the love of God?
And finally: Can you look at your body today and thank God for the person He has entrusted to you?

A prayer

O Lord Jesus Christ, the Great Physician of our souls and bodies, look down upon me in Your mercy.
Heal my heart from the deep wounds of shame, rejection, comparison, and worldly judgment.
Forgive me for the times I have despised the body You have fashioned,
and deliver me from the disordered self-love that leads me into anxiety and vanity.
Silence the cruel whispers of the enemy who seeks to bind me in self-loathing.
Teach me to receive myself as one created and loved by You.
Fill me with humility and gratitude, and clothe my soul and body with Your grace,
that I may live in the freedom of Your Kingdom and await with joy the glory of the Resurrection.
For You are our Resurrection and our Life, and to You we ascribe glory, now and ever, and unto ages of ages. Amen.