Remember, every day from today to the last breath you take is an opportunity for growth, and to become closer to God and to all he truly desires to give you. As Pope Saint John Paul II said, “Become who you are.” Who you really are, who you are at your core, is a fully integrated part of humanity, body and soul, in complete union and harmony. The real you fully expressed is someone who inspires those around you, serves as an example for those who desire good, and is a stumbling block to those who don’t.
At the risk of over-quoting people smarter than I am, Saint Irenaeus said, “The glory of God is man fully alive.” God created us in his image. Yes, it’s been distorted by sin, but every one of us has the capacity to live out God’s glory more fully every day for the rest of our lives. Too often we say to ourselves, “I’m good where I’m at.” So here’s my question: are you in heaven? Because if you’re not, then you’re not good where you’re at.
I’ve heard people point out that they’re done with school and conclude that they no longer need to learn, say that their doctor said their cholesterol is fine, so they don’t need to lose weight, and that, after all, they already know how not to kill anyone or steal, so why go to church? The problem with all of these is that we’re setting false standards for ourselves… and really low ones at that. Jesus doesn’t call us to be better than the worst we can imagine, or to be better than the bare minimum. Remember, he says, “Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.” Too often we compare ourselves to the wrong standard: the floor below us instead of the sky Christ offers us. The Christ who told us to “be perfect.”
Making progress toward perfection will be a painful process … one we generally won’t complete before heaven. As Saint Francis de Sales teaches, on this side of eternity, there’s only progress and not perfection. Even Jesus, who is perfection itself, suffered intensely. And Mary, who also wasn’t spiritually disfigured by sin like the rest of us, still experienced her seven sorrows, which probably would have done in the rest of us. All the saints have suffered. As Jesus tells us, “If any man would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me” (Lk 9:23). The way to perfection isn’t easy, but it is worth it.
When Revelation speaks of heaven, it warns us, “nothing unclean shall enter it” (21:27). Heaven is on the line, so let’s live like it. Every time I’m tempted to say, “I’m too busy to pray,” or “No one will notice this sin,” or “What does it matter what I do with my body?” I let the great gift God desires to give me slip through my fingers, rather than treasuring it with every ounce of my being.
Now, this is a book on faith and fitness. You might think that I overstate the importance of fitness … or that I overstate the importance of faith. The fact is even using the words “body” and “soul” almost draws a false distinction. Until we take our dying breath there’s no separating them. (And then only until the end of time and the resurrection of the body.) We’re called to a fully integrated life, and that integration means living with integrity. So let’s prepare ourselves to offer our prayers, works, joys, and sufferings… all of ourselves to God. That’s the starting point, and the only way we have the potential to change.
Don’t settle for anything less!
Chapter Two
Suffering
“If we only knew the precious treasure hidden in infirmities, we would receive them with the same joy with which we receive the greatest benefits, and we would bear them without ever complaining or showing signs of weariness.”
— Saint Vincent de Paul
Catholics often have a strange relationship with suffering — one that vacillates between near masochism in penitence or asceticism on one hand, and the refusal to practice self-discipline and restraint in actual practical matters like diet and exercise on the other. I’ve known Catholics who indiscriminately heap on devotions, but rationalize having a dinner consisting of cake and ice cream because “the physical is less important than the spiritual.” They run away from effort and physical activity and say, “God doesn’t care how I look.”
The other side of the coin is the people who “can’t” find an hour on Sundays to make it to Mass, but easily find an hour daily to exercise. They fit in work, play, and workouts without missing a beat, but with all that are “too busy” to give God any time.
The reality is that these people are actually doing the same thing most humans are best at: serving ourselves. When Saint Irenaeus said, “The glory of God is man fully alive,” he didn’t say, “the glory of God is man ignoring the body and trying to make up for it by doing extra soul work.” He also didn’t say, “The glory of God is man with a killer bod.” I’ll say it again: to be truly Catholic, we don’t separate our body and soul… but live as an integrated whole, as the embodied spirits God created us to be.
In our lives, God allows us sufficient suffering to perfect us. However, we need to accept that suffering, not run away from it and pick out a different kind of suffering we’re okay with or, worse, are really excited to wallow in.
We’ll all experience heartbreak and tragedy that tries our souls along the way. But more often we’ll experience the natural stress to our hearts and minds that trying to live a basic functional life brings. We get to offer all of that, both the big and small, both the life changing and the base line, to God. If I spend an hour in adoration, but spend an hour cursing LA drivers and stress-eating the candy bar I picked up at the gas station, what have I gained? If I go to church daily, but daily refuse to take care of my body, the temple of the Holy Spirit that God has entrusted to me, I’m missing the point.
God has given us bodies that need tending, that respond to exercise, that serve us better the more we put them into service. He’s also allowed that process to provide a fair amount of suffering. Why avoid that? God is giving you the opportunity to tend to the temple. It won’t be easy, but it will be worth doing.
Again, on the flip side, if you’re someone who says, “the gym is my church,” or “hiking is how I’m with God,” or “Sundays are for football or sleeping in,” you’re deceiving yourself. You can certainly offer the suffering of an extra set to God. You can certainly pray and feel close to God surrounded by his magnificent creation. You can certainly use playing a sport to love your neighbor and your enemy (you know, maybe your teammate and your opponent?) all at once. But if that takes you away from offering God the worship he asks of you, you’re missing the point. If you glorify the body to the detriment of your soul, you set up an opposition that shouldn’t exist, and you become less human, less fully alive, and less of who you actually are. At times, attending Mass, praying, or going to confession can be far from easy. But they are always good, maybe especially when they involve a kind of suffering. They give us an opportunity to tend the temple.
It took me most of my life to realize (and it still takes consistent reminders to remember) the truth I’ve mentioned several times here already: our bodies and souls should be one, not two parts, but one united person. Saint Paul points this out in 1 Corinthians 6:19–20 (although I only really understood it this way recently): “Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, which you have from God? You are not your own; you were bought with a price. So glorify God in your body.” He’s speaking of a union of body and spirit; that’s what makes the temple. We belong to God; we are not our own. Through his death on the cross, Jesus bought us at a great price. The good news is, he bought us away from death, from the separation of body and soul that God never intended.
We’ll suffer both in body and soul, in small ways and big ways, not only when we do things that are bad for us, but also when we do the things that are good for us. Remember, that’s