Christian asceticism usually despises the body, viewing it as a part of man that is corruptible and at the same time a source of moral depravity. This tendency to understand human nature, especially so-called fallen human nature, as something low and evil, sinful and therefore contemptible, as something that requires oversight and restraint by the nobler part of man, has remained in one form or another a part of traditional Christian spirituality. I believe, however, that this is not correct.
What I arrived at in the prison camps was a profound respect and love for my poor old body. After all, it bore the weight of all my sufferings, even though the soul could also experience anxiety. And it was the body that had to keep the person going despite his strong will and determination. It was the body that resisted the onslaught of the wind, the biting cold, the cramps of tired muscles, the cutting of cracking and bleeding wounds, the stomach growling from hunger, the pain and rigidity of strained tendons. In those long, painfully long days of toil in the snowstorms, freezing downpours, or spring mud of the far north, the body patiently endured all the frostbite and hunger cramps, swollen feet, tearful eyes, chapped lips, broken ankles, sprains and cramps, bruises, and all other pains, helping the person survive another day. And it was the body that overcame these tribulations, experienced that agony, and bore the heavy burden of daily torment. I always regarded the body in many respects as something obvious that required no special appreciation. Only now, as I finished the day in complete exhaustion and the body cried out for at least a minute more of rest, have I learned to appreciate that wonderful gift of life that God granted man in the possibilities of the human body.
We are mistaken if we think that this mortal handful of dust is a lesser gift from God, a gift less noble and beautiful than the immortal soul. We live in the body and strive for our salvation in the body. For none of us does salvation mean any more or less than bearing the same cross as Christ, accepting what each day brings as a manifestation of God's will, offering to God each morning all our joys, work, and sufferings that await us. However, these are abstract concepts. What this means practically can be told by our poor old body. It means getting up every day and lying down at night in exhaustion. It means a daily routine, nothing grand. It means working for others and, through our body, inscribing ourselves into their lives.
(Walter J. Ciszek SJ /1904–1984/, memories of Soviet prison, He Leads Me, Chapter 9)
