Bringing Our Souls Into Subjection

What exactly are we made of?  The answer to that question usually depends on whom we ask.  A child will tell us we’re made of skin and bones; a doctor will go into more detail, describing the various organs, muscle tissue, nerves, fluids, and so on.  But we don’t need medical training to know enough about ourselves to get us to heaven.  We’re made up of two things—body and soul.

The body takes up more of our thoughts, unfortunately, as it does not always behave as we would like.  It is subject to disease, injury, infections, and all manner of aches and pains that distract us from the daily enjoyment of our life.  The psychological aspect of our body, namely our mind, is likewise a burden, playing tricks on us all the time.  It deludes us into confusing truth with falsehood, it plays havoc with our mental health with things like depression, doubt, despair, fear, false pride, envy and hatred.  What’s worse is that it has certain inclinations, thanks to original sin, that make us want to do what we know we should not do.  In short, there is a conflict between our body and our soul.

We are aware from an early age of this constant struggle waging within us.  At first, we don’t understand what’s going on.  As an infant we want to eat, to sleep, to have our diaper changed, and if we don’t get what we want, we cry to let you know we’re not happy.  Eventually, we grow enough to realize that by demanding or pleading to get our own way, we stand a better chance.  Parents ought to respond to this early rebellion by instilling in their children the first and elemental lessons of behavior, mixed in, hopefully, with the knowledge of God, his love for us, and his laws which we must obey for our own good.  Teenage years provide the opportunity for us to experiment with our own new-found ability to control our environment and behavior, manipulating the world around us to our own advantage.  These, of course are the most dangerous years of all.  Many are lost to the devil’s alluring assurance that we can now do whatever we want, while a few commit to the higher good of pleasing God rather than themselves, making him (and their parents) proud.

For those of us who have passed through these perilous years (none of us unscathed!), we are now accustomed to the daily battle to save our souls.  Our mother, Holy Church, helps us in our struggles by providing a yearly cycle of liturgical seasons based on our Lord’s life on earth, each emphasizing a particular aspect of the fight between body and soul.  Perhaps no season is more essentially focused on this battle than Shrovetide.  It is a brief couple of weeks during which we are given the task of re-committing ourselves to the care of our souls rather than our bodies.  “I keep under my body,” says St. Paul in last Sunday’s Epistle, meaning that he keeps the importance of his body beneath that of his soul.  This is the Church’s Shrovetide message, one that we are invited, if not commanded, to follow.  “I keep under my body, and bring it into subjection.”  As we place our body and our soul on the two sides of the scale, we must decide once and for all which is worth more.  And then we must fight—because the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak!