Taking Our Bodies Seriously: Holy Communion in the Eucharist and Marriage
The Eucharist has often been described as a foretaste of heaven; and the kingdom of heaven has often been described as a wedding feast. Holy Communion in the Eucharist and Marriage is ultimately found in the kingdom. So, to come to grips with our topic, it is important to consider the kingdom.
People are easily tempted to consider talk about a heavenly marriage feast as just that: talk. They take it only as a kind of metaphor and not as a serious description of what heaven is. Marriage, after all, involves bodily communion, whereas we can tend to regard heaven as a purely spiritual reality. Even many faithful Catholics, including saints and scholars who clearly affirm the central Christian doctrine of the resurrection of the body, conceive of heaven as essentially spiritual. As a result, it becomes difficult to see what difference the body makes.
Beatific vision and bodily resurrection
St. Thomas Aquinas, for example, equates heavenly fulfillment with the beatific vision, which he says will satisfy all our desires (see Summa theologiae 1-2, q. 3, a. 8). But there's a problem. Some very holy people go immediately to heaven when they die; they are given the beatific vision right away, even, it seems, before they experience bodily resurrection. If all their desires are satisfied before they exist in heaven as bodily persons, then what difference can the body make to our heavenly happiness?
St. Thomas tries to resolve this problem by saying that although the body is not essential for perfect beatitude, it adds well-being to perfect beatitude (see Summa theologiae 1-2, q. 4, a. 5). But one is left wondering how, if the beatific vision really does fulfill us perfectly, the body could add any well-being at all to our heavenly fulfillment. The problem vanishes when one no longer equates that fulfillment with the beatific vision, but instead sees that heavenly fulfillment is found in all of the various elements of the kingdom: the vision of God, to be sure, but also bodily resurrection and all that it enables us to enjoy, the new heavens and the new earth, the communion of friends, and the whole range of humanly fulfilling goods.
This understanding of heavenly fulfillment finds support in the New Testament, which emphasizes resurrection much more than the vision of God. Of course, Scripture does promise that vision: Jesus himself says that the pure of heart are blessed because they shall see God (see Mt. 5:8), and St. John says that those who now are children of God shall in heaven see him as he is (see 1 Jn 3:2). But Jesus also clearly affirms "that the dead are raised" (Lk 37) and teaches that the meek are blessed because they shall inherit the earth (see Mt 5:5). And St. Paul speaks at length of the resurrection of the body, explaining that even though we do not understand how God can raise us up, we should not doubt the reality of resurrection or downplay its significance (see 1 Cor 15). "The dead will be raised imperishable," he proclaims; "this mortal nature must put on immortality," and death will be "swallowed up in victory" (1 Cor 15:52-54).
Eucharist anticipates bodily resurrection
Jesus teaches that our heavenly life depends upon our being united with him in the Eucharist. In the sixth chapter of John's Gospel we read: "Truly, truly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of man and drink his blood, you have no life in you; he who eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up at the last day. For my flesh is food indeed and my blood is drink indeed" (Jn 6:53-55). Later in the same Gospel Jesus urges us to abide in him if we expect to have life: "If a man does not abide in me, he is cast forth as a branch and withers"; but "he who abides in me, and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing" (Jn 15:5-6). As he tells Martha, even though such a person die, "yet shall he live" (Jn 11:25).
Paul develops the same theme. He says that when we receive the Eucharist we participate in the body of Christ; we are one body because we have received of this one bread (see 1 Cor 16-17). The Didache, that is, The Teaching of the Twelve Apostles, a document of the early Church, famously expands on this idea in a prayer: "As this broken bread was scattered upon the mountains, but was brought together and became one, so let thy Church be gathered together from the ends of the earth into thy Kingdom" (Didache, 9, 4). In other words, when we receive the Eucharist — the one bread formed of grain brought together and consecrated — we are incorporated into the one body of Christ. This prepares us to enter into his heavenly kingdom and share his resurrection life.
In short, the New Testament and the Church from earliest times teach that the dead are raised bodily, that the blessed in heaven are united with one another through their real bodily unity with Jesus, and that this unity is anticipated in and made possible through the Eucharist. Scripture speaks of this unity as a marriage. Despite significant differences between marriage as we know it in this world and the heavenly marriage feast, we can deepen our understanding of our bodily union with one another in Jesus by reflecting on marriage.
Unity, not absorption
Marriage is a one-flesh unity in which the couple become so united that they are in a very real sense one person — a communal person. Yet their real unity does not mean that they mutually absorb each other and lose their own identity. Rather, their own identity becomes fully realized in this relationship. It enhances the individuality of each because in the complementarity of man and woman, each supplies what the other lacks so that they can become one. This is obviously true in their bodily reality: it is only because they are different in complementary ways that they are able to be united. The same is true for other dimensions of the relationship: by contributing his or her unique and complementary gifts, each becomes more of what he or she can be. The more the union is actualized, the more husband and wife are actualized in the union as their unique, individual selves.
Consider any good marriage: as the man and woman become more one, they use more of their own individual gifts to enhance the relationship, and in doing so they are more fulfilled, both individually and as a couple. The same is true of the bodily unity of heaven — our union with each other as members of Jesus' body that the Eucharist anticipates. That union does not take away the individuality of those who are a part of it; rather, the union enhances their individuality.
We see, then, that unity and difference are not contraries in marriage or in the resurrection life of the kingdom, and in this we have a reflection of the Trinity. The divine persons — Father, Son, and Holy Spirit — are both the one God and distinct realities. Common sense would suggest that persons are either one or distinct, but the doctrine of the Trinity tells us otherwise: the divine persons are both one and distinct. And the more they are one, the more distinct they are. Since the divine persons enjoy perfect union with each other, there is an absolute distinction between them. So also with marriage and with the one-flesh union of the members of the body of Christ! Those who enjoy these forms of bodily union do not become a homogeneous mass. Their individual identity is not lost but enhanced. Their union with each other in Christ does not mean that they are absorbed into him and cease being what they are.
The teaching that human fulfillment involves a communion of persons whose individual identities are retained and enhanced distinguishes Christianity from other religions. On the one hand, Buddhism teaches that nirvana, which is regarded as uniquely worthy of pursuit, can be found only when the self ceases to exist as an individual self by being entirely absorbed into God, or the Absolute. On the other hand, Islam denies any possibility of personal union with God, whom it regards as utterly other and without the unity of distinct persons within himself. But Christianity teaches that unity between God and man is real, and that one aspect of that unity is our bodily unity with Christ, who is one of the divine persons.
Again, the corporeal unity of those who experience bodily resurrection is real, but the distinctness of persons remains. And conversely, the distinctness does not detract from the unity. The blessed rise in their own individual bodies, but the distinctness of their bodies does not detract from personal bodily community, for it is precisely their distinct bodies that are united. We do not understand how resurrected bodily persons are united, but we do know that marriage is a sacrament of this union. Church teaching makes this clear (see the Council of Trent, DS 1799-1800). The union at issue is not simply the unity of Christ with the Church but the unity in him of everybody in the Church with one another other; this is what Paul refers to in speaking of the one bread and one body.
This real corporeal unity is built up by the Eucharist. In his encyclical "Ecclesia de Eucharistia" Pope John Paul II explains that the Eucharist "builds the Church" (26) and is "a foretaste of the fullness of joy promised by Christ (cf. Jn 15:11); it is in some way the anticipation of heaven," "the pledge of our bodily resurrection at the end of the world," a pledge arising "from the fact that the flesh of the Son of Man, given as food, is his body in its glorious state after the resurrection" (18).
Bodily communion in heaven
The marriage feast that the Eucharist is building up somehow includes the unity that chaste married couples experience together in their marital intimacy. For nothing that is good and holy in this world simply ceases to exist. Rather, it is transformed and included forever in the heavenly kingdom. However, someone might object: Didn't Jesus teach that there is no marriage in heaven? Let's consider the passage in which he addresses the issue: Luke 20:27-36.
The Sadducees, who deny the resurrection, try to trip Jesus up by having him imagine a man, one of seven brothers, who dies leaving a wife. One by one, the brothers marry the wife and then die, and, last of all, she dies. The Sadducees ask Jesus, "In the resurrection, therefore, whose wife will the woman be? For the seven had her as wife." Jesus responds that in this age people "marry and are given in marriage," but those who rise from the dead do not. He explains: "they cannot die any more, because they are equal to angels and are sons of God, being sons of the resurrection."
When Jesus says they are like the angels, he obviously does not mean they are not bodily, for that would contradict the whole point of his response, which is to affirm that there is indeed a resurrection. Rather, he is saying that those who have risen to glory never die. Since life never ends, there is no need for reproduction and for bodily unity based on it. In this life we have reproduction, which comes about through the bodily unity of two people. (Of course, the unity of married couples who cannot have children remains good because it really is bodily unity: they come together in a reproductive-type act even if they cannot actually conceive children.) But in the everlasting life of heaven, when there is no need for reproduction, the mode of bodily communion is different. It is no longer based on sexual differentiation and no longer limited to two people; those limitations drop away. But bodily communion itself does not drop away; instead, it will involve everybody in one great marriage.
The principle of unity in the heavenly marriage is not genital, which has to do with reproduction. If we imagine that the principle of bodily unity in heaven is genital, we will mistakenly imagine heaven as a great orgy. Heaven involves bodily communion that somehow is brought about in a different way. Although we cannot understand precisely how, we can say that the bodily union of heaven will involve the very being of the person; it will not be limited to one function but will involve every aspect of the bodily person. We will be united with Jesus and one another with respect to our whole bodily personhood for our whole life. And yet, as with marriage as we now know it, this union will not mean getting absorbed into each other or losing our individual identity. Rather, as the union is intensified, so also is our individuality.
Since one-flesh union in the kingdom is not based specifically on sexual complementarity, we may find ourselves wondering whether it will be pleasant. The answer is that without a doubt it will be! Whenever we participate in something fundamentally and humanly good, we experience it on all the levels of our being, for we are integrated unities of body and soul. It is hard to imagine a greater human good than the one-flesh union of heaven. So, we can expect the bodily unity of resurrection life to be pleasurable, in fact, to be a deeper and more satisfying pleasure than anything we can ever expect in this life. Still, our focus in heaven surely will not be on the pleasure itself but on the goodness of the unity. The experience, I expect, will be much better described as one of overflowing joy.
The sacrifice of accepting death
Up to now I have been speaking about Eucharist as sacrament, as bodily unity with Jesus and in him with each other. But we also must consider the Eucharist as sacrifice. In fact, it is only through his sacrifice that this bodily unity with Jesus and each other becomes possible. Jesus is the great high priest who offers sacrifice. But what is the sacrifice he offers? He is obedient to the Father all the way to his death. However, Jesus' sacrifice is not his death itself but rather the way he lived his life — which, of course, includes his free acceptance of death. Notice that Jesus does not intend his death; he freely accepts it. The second Eucharistic Prayer makes that clear: "Before he was given up to death, a death he freely accepted, he took bread and gave you thanks." So, again, Jesus' sacrifice was not precisely his death but the way he lived his life. He fulfilled his mission despite the fact that it meant freely accepting his death.
For our participation in the Eucharist to be efficacious, we must cooperate with Jesus. He is the high priest offering sacrifice, and only his role is necessary for there to be a sacrifice. But if we are to profit from it, we must somehow participate. We, too, must offer sacrifice. How can we do this if he is the only high priest? Through the priesthood bestowed on us and on every Christian at baptism! Although Jesus is the only high priest and the only principal offerer, we participate by offering ourselves along with Jesus' offering of himself. When we do that, we naturally intend that Jesus offer himself. That's the way formal cooperation works.
A negative example can make this clear. If you intend to rob a bank along with some principal agent who is the only one necessary to get the job done, then you intend that he do the robbing. This is formal cooperation. Your cooperation would make no sense apart from the action of the principal agent. The same is true with positive actions, and with the most positive, most wonderful action imaginable: the Mass. Only Jesus is the principal agent; he is the only true mediator. But anyone — not only ministerial priests but all Christians through their baptismal priesthood — also offer the sacrifice if they offer themselves along with Jesus, for then they intend that he offer himself. As with Jesus, our offering is not our death itself, even though, like Jesus, we must accept our death. Our offering is rather the sacrificial way we live our lives.
The Eucharist builds up the heavenly marriage feast, but that feast can only be reached through a radical transformation of our condition. For, in this world our concrete condition includes death and many other serious problems that are ultimately attributable to sin. This does not mean that a particular person's problems are attributable to his own sins or, for example, to the sins of his parents, as Jesus makes clear (see Jn 9:2-3). Rather, it means that the problems in our fallen world exist because the world is in fact fallen! It has been disrupted by original sin and set on a path to death. The problems of this fallen world must be overcome if we are ever to reach a true and lasting fulfillment — and this requires radical transformation. It means getting out of this passing, sinful, divided, unsatisfactory world and being transformed into the kingdom. And, of course, the terminus a quo, the state from which we get into that kingdom, is this world. We need to get out of here, which we do by dying.
However, in itself dying is not good. Death itself is not the sacrifice we offer, for death is bad. In itself, death just means losing the life we have here. If there were no sin there would be no death; but given that there is sin, it is necessary to get out of this world if we are ever to find true and lasting fulfillment. This requires losing what we have here; it requires death. So, we can say that death is bad from our point of view but from the perspective of the kingdom, which Jesus freely offers to all who remain faithful until death, death means being born into eternal life. We cannot rise into incorruptible and truly fulfilling life and the fullness of bodily union without first dying. Paul expresses the point when he says "my desire is to depart and be with Christ" (Phil 1:23).
In fact, if we really think about the alternative to dying, it would be living on and on in this fallen world endlessly. In that case, despite the fact that death is bad, we would all get to the point of being completely fed up with this world of woe; we would, I think, find ourselves wanting to commit suicide and not be able to do so. That is perhaps what hell is like. This makes it even clearer that although death in itself is bad, God is very merciful in allowing it. He lets us live in this fallen world so that we can cooperate with Jesus by offering our life as a sacrifice along with his. In doing so, we shape our character into something beautiful that will last forever. In short, God gives us the challenges of this life so that in being all we can be here and remaining faithful all the way up to death, we will be all we can be in the kingdom.
Finding goods again in heaven
I think this is what Paul is getting at when he says, "I appeal to you, brothers and sisters, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship. Do not be conformed to this world but be transformed by the renewal of your mind" (Rm 12:1-2). Paul is telling us that if we live generous, sacrificial lives in cooperation with grace and with Jesus' sacrifice, we become transformed from within. This prepares us to enter the kingdom where we will find, as Vatican II tells us, all that was good in this world, but transformed and freed from all defects and inappropriate limitations. You have heard the expression "You can't take it with you." The Council is teaching, in effect, that we don't need to take it with us, because we will find that "all the good fruit of our nature and effort" (Gaudium et spes 39) awaits us when we are given bodily resurrection and enter the new heaven and the new earth.
Those who understand this are less tempted to seek this-worldly happiness and also less inclined to regret that they "can't take it with them." They realize that all of the good they know and do in this world awaits them in the kingdom. This calls to mind the story of a rich man who was near death. He was grieved because he had worked very hard for his money and heard that he could not take it with him. So he began to pray that he might be able to take some of his wealth with him. An angel hears his plea and appears to him, saying, "I'm sorry, but you can't take your wealth with you." The man implores the angel to speak to God to see if He might bend the rules. The angel reappears and informs the man that God has decided to allow him to take one suitcase with him. Overjoyed, the man gathers his largest suitcase and fills it with pure gold bricks and places it beside his bed. Soon afterward the man dies and shows up at the gates of heaven to greet St. Peter. Seeing the suitcase, St. Peter says, "Hold on, you can't bring that in here!" The man explains to St. Peter that he has permission and asks him to verify his story with the Lord. Sure enough, St. Peter checks and comes back saying, "I'm amazed, but you're right. You are allowed one carry-on bag, but I'm supposed to check its contents before letting it through." St. Peter opens the suitcase to inspect the items that the man found too precious to leave behind and exclaims, "You brought pavement?!!!" Of course, the good that awaits us in heaven is much more than streets of gold!
Marital commitment
Marriage as we know it here, when it is lived out as it should be, involves many of the elements I have been discussing. In marriage we find what corresponds to faith, baptism, and Eucharist. There is, first of all, the willingness to be married. One places one's faith in the other and gives up one's individual agenda enough to be really married. The undertaking is lifelong, and it is a serious and massive commitment of oneself. It is a real covenant, although limited to just two people. This human unity grounds the whole of married life. It grounds the carrying out of the marital commitment. That commitment involves knowing what you are entering into and being willing to do whatever it takes to live a good life together. Marriage is not a matter of making a contract and of each party fulfilling contractual obligations. Properly living out marriage requires husband and wife to do all they have to do to make the marriage work. It means writing a blank check; those who are not willing to do that are not taking marriage with the seriousness that it deserves. Those preparing to marry need to see that they cannot say "I've had it," when things don't work out.
St. Paul understands this, which is why in Ephesians 5 he says to women who tend to get fed up and go their own way: "Wives, be obedient to your husbands as to the Lord in everything." And to husbands who are fed up and no longer cherish their wives but keep them only to satisfy themselves, Paul says you must love your wives as you love yourself and be willing to lay down your life for them. If you're not willing to do this, you are not a decent husband!
This is what marital consent is about: it is a commitment to this kind of cooperation. It is an unconditional commitment in which one gives and does whatever it takes to make the marriage work, no matter how great the sacrifice. It includes women giving up their independence and men giving up their dominance. This makes sense, for if men love their wives enough to lay down their lives for them, women don't mind submitting; and if women are willing to cooperate and not maintain their own agendas, then men are able to see that they have something worth laying down their lives for. For then a husband experiences the truth that his wife really is part of him, and he is motivated to love his wife as his own body.
Marriage, then, is indissoluble and requires absolute commitment. It is a sacrament of the New Covenant and therefore tied into the resurrection life that Jesus promises those who remain faithful. And marriage is a sacrifice tied in with Jesus' own sacrifice, which is irretrievable. Jesus offers his life and never takes it back no matter what. Only marriage in which the commitment is unconditional and unbreakable can serve as a sacrament of the New Covenant. Trial marriage will not work because marriage is tied in with the marriage feast of heaven, and heaven cannot be conceived of as an experiment that one can try out for a while to see how one gets along in the resurrection community!
In short, the Eucharist and marriage are both sacrament and sacrifice. Both involve bodily union and both require free self-offering. Marriage involves consent, which is a parallel of baptism: vows are essential to both. So also, in both baptism and marriage, consent leads to consummation. Baptismal vows are consummated in the one-flesh union of the Eucharist. Marital consent is consummated in the one-flesh union of marital intercourse.
How then should we live?
What do these reflections on the significance — the holy communion — of the Eucharist and marriage tell us about how we should live? We are called to "present [our] bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God" (Rm 5:2), which means our lives really are supposed to be good, Christian lives. But, as St. Paul says in 1 Cor 6:13-20, "The body is not meant for fornication but for the Lord and the Lord for the body." He explains:
And God raised the Lord and will also raise us by his power. Do you not know that your bodies are members of Christ? Shall I therefore take the members of Christ and make them members of a prostitute? Never! Do you not know that whoever is united to a prostitute becomes one body with her? For, as it is written, 'The two shall be one flesh.' But anyone united to the Lord becomes one spirit with him. Shun fornication! Every other sin that a person commits is outside the body; but the fornicator sins against the body itself. Or 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.
The problem with sex outside of marriage is that it is not really communion. This requires explanation.
People who engage in illicit sex do not take their bodies seriously; they fail to appreciate the meaning and value of their bodies. Rather, they treat their bodies as instruments; they make use of them. Whether they use them to bring about the experience of pleasure or to express their feelings, they use their bodies. When we do this, we make our bodies instruments that we use over against us. We begin to see the self as the thinking, feeling, and desiring subject, and the body as subpersonal and not integral to ourselves. When we think this way we cannot understand Paul's exhortation to offer our bodies as a living sacrifice, for Paul means we should offer ourselves.
When we think of ourselves as somehow distinct from our bodies and treat our bodies as mere instruments, we experience alienation from our true selves. Then sexual intimacy becomes incapable of bringing about a true union of persons. No matter how physically close they may get, people who treat their bodies as objects cannot bring about such a union. If I use my body as an instrument, then so far as my subjective experience is concerned, I am I and the other is the other, and when our bodies are joined, we are not really united.
I have been told that marital intercourse is wonderful not just because of the pleasure the couple enjoy but because they experience themselves as really being one. Personally one! That must be an exhilarating experience! People who have premarital sex do not experience that. They cannot. Participation in the marital good necessarily involves a complete personal coming together, which is simply impossible without the consent and commitment that premarital and masturbatory sex inevitably lack. In fact, such illicit sexual activity incapacitates those who engage in it because they inevitably treat their bodies as objects. As a result, they become alienated from themselves and less capable of giving themselves as integrated selves in authentic personal communion.
Sex outside of marriage, then, cannot be equated with making love. A couple makes love by doing whatever is required to be a well-functioning, happy communion. True lovemaking requires true cooperation and the willingness to make any sacrifice, including even accepting death for the beloved. Death completes and perfects the communion, and makes it a part of the heavenly kingdom. In that kingdom, the good of marriage, like all human goods, lasts, and only the limitations fall away. It would be strange indeed if laying down one's life for the sake of the communion of marriage simply put an end to that communion! The truth is that the death of good married people ensures that the good of their marital communio becomes a part of the heavenly communio.
It is worth noting that treating and experiencing the body as an instrument has other significant negative consequences. Most significantly, it has a negative effect on Christian faith, particularly on those aspects of faith that bear on the body. A person who is involved in pornography and illicit sex tends to find it very difficult, for example, to accept the reality of the Eucharist as the bodily presence of Jesus, and to accept that we really are called to a bodily resurrection. Christian teachings that bear on bodily reality become very hard to accept; they seem merely metaphorical and not real.
Why is that? The answer, I think, is that Christianity recognizes that the body really is personal and not just an instrument and object. For Christianity, the body has permanent and unqualified value as part of the kingdom that is going to last forever. By contrast, those who approve of sex outside of marriage tend to take for granted the modern view that bodily life is not personal but only instrumental. That view is also taken for granted by advocates of physician assisted suicide: they assume that when the body can no longer enable a person to enjoy other goods, it has outlived its usefulness. This modern view is like the view of the ancient Greeks. When Paul speaks to the men of Athens about the resurrection, they smugly respond that they will hear him speak about this some other time (see Acts 17:32). For, they assumed that at death the body was happily disposed of, and that getting rid of it frees us up. That view simply destroys Christian faith, which centers on the Incarnation, Resurrection, and the bodily presence of Christ in the Eucharist.
If there is a moral to this story, it is this: It is in no one's interest to settle for fragmentary happiness in this world through halfway measures such as sex outside of marriage. Such sex not only cannot be marital, but it undermines marital intimacy. Non-marital sexual relationships diminish our ability to appreciate bodily realities and ultimately prevent us from reaching the kingdom. Those not called to celibacy do well if they strive to enter into true marriages and faithfully live them out despite the cost. And all of us, celibate and non-celibate, do well if, despite the real death to self this involves, we live the chastity proper to our state in life with a view to participating in the heavenly marriage feast anticipated in the Eucharist. Only by living in this world with our hearts set on the heavenly kingdom can we look forward to the holy communion of bodily resurrection and joy beyond imagining.
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