Body & Soul -- USA TODAY, December 4, 2006
One Sunday morning in early October, a crowd of 250 gathered in a high school gym in Evansville, Ind., for an interfaith worship service. The CenterPoint Community Church provided praise songs, prayers and a short sermon. When the service ended, participants went out and ran a half-marathon, 13.1 miles.
Not your typical after-church activity.
Such services are a wake-up call for religious people whose focus on the soul causes them to see the flesh as something less important — sometimes even totally depraved. This dualistic view splits the soul from the body, and it is, surprisingly, more closely linked to Greek philosophy than to Judeo-Christian teachings. But a broad-based movement is emerging that wants to reclaim the ancient biblical truth that spirituality involves more than just the spirit — it also includes the body.
Links are now being made between faith and fitness, in churches and synagogues, karate schools and yoga studios. Across the USA, congregations are building full-service fitness facilities, expanding the approach pioneered byYMCAs and JCCs (Jewish Community Centers). Church-based sports programs are on the rise, leading congregations of all sizes to add gym facilities, weight rooms and other recreational equipment.
Connecting religion to exercise isn't just a matter of faith. It's a lifesaving step, especially in light of our country's obesity epidemic and the incorrect assumption that spirituality is limited to the spirit.
“When we consider our personal relationship with God and each other, we often over-spiritualize it,” says Brad Bloom, publisher of Faith & Fitness Magazine, based in Spencer, Ind. But vital relationships with God and neighbor require us to maintain the health of our bodies, too. A mistake we've made in religious circles is to define “salvation” entirely in terms of life after death, when in fact the word can describe health and wholeness in life on earth as well.
We clergy are among the worst role models when it comes to physical fitness. A 2001 national survey of more than 3,000 religious leaders, conducted by the Pulpit and Pew project at Duke Divinity School, found that 76% of Christian clergy are either overweight or obese (compared with 61% of the general population). Treatments of back problems and high blood pressure have been the top claims paid by the Southern Baptist Convention's health insurance program in recent years — ailments often resulting from obesity or a sedentary lifestyle.
Obesity also presents a credibility problem for pastors who stand in front of their congregations and preach on biblical verses such as the command to “glorify God in your body” (1 Corinthians 6:20). Recognizing this incongruity, I accepted the challenge of a friend — a Catholic priest — to join him in running the Marine Corps Marathon soon after my 40th birthday in 2000. I hadn't been a runner in high school and had avoided it pretty successfully in the ensuing years. But my friend convinced me that I could train for the race in six months, so I accepted his challenge and worked my way up to running the 26.2 miles.
In the years since, my marathon training has become a running meditation for me, and I have been amazed by the clarity of thought — along with the occasional agony of the body — that I experience during workouts. Long runs with members of my church have led to some intimate conversations, and I have found myself growing closer to these men and women through the pursuit of shared athletic goals.
My friend Vik Khanna, an exercise specialist certified by the American College of Sports Medicine, has teamed up with me to develop a program called “Ten Commandments of Faith and Fitness.” We've been meeting with 40 church members in monthly sessions since January, encouraging activities that will improve participants' spiritual and physical fitness. One class member recently reported with pride that she completed her first 100-mile bicycle race, and she told us that church friends working toward similar goals have been “a good source of support.”
The union of body and spirit carries with it the promise of integrity — that is, the bringing together of different parts into a unified whole. The root of the word religion is the Latin religare, which means “bind together,” reflecting a deep desire to have the various strands of life tied together. Most of us want to be complete and undivided, enjoying integrity as physical, emotional, moral, intellectual, sexual and spiritual creatures.
We can move closer to a life of integrity by pursuing health and wholeness in weekend worship and weekday workouts. The path to spiritual and physical fitness begins with a single step — or, in my case, six months of preparation for the Marine Corps Marathon.
Not your typical after-church activity.
Such services are a wake-up call for religious people whose focus on the soul causes them to see the flesh as something less important — sometimes even totally depraved. This dualistic view splits the soul from the body, and it is, surprisingly, more closely linked to Greek philosophy than to Judeo-Christian teachings. But a broad-based movement is emerging that wants to reclaim the ancient biblical truth that spirituality involves more than just the spirit — it also includes the body.
Links are now being made between faith and fitness, in churches and synagogues, karate schools and yoga studios. Across the USA, congregations are building full-service fitness facilities, expanding the approach pioneered byYMCAs and JCCs (Jewish Community Centers). Church-based sports programs are on the rise, leading congregations of all sizes to add gym facilities, weight rooms and other recreational equipment.
Connecting religion to exercise isn't just a matter of faith. It's a lifesaving step, especially in light of our country's obesity epidemic and the incorrect assumption that spirituality is limited to the spirit.
“When we consider our personal relationship with God and each other, we often over-spiritualize it,” says Brad Bloom, publisher of Faith & Fitness Magazine, based in Spencer, Ind. But vital relationships with God and neighbor require us to maintain the health of our bodies, too. A mistake we've made in religious circles is to define “salvation” entirely in terms of life after death, when in fact the word can describe health and wholeness in life on earth as well.
We clergy are among the worst role models when it comes to physical fitness. A 2001 national survey of more than 3,000 religious leaders, conducted by the Pulpit and Pew project at Duke Divinity School, found that 76% of Christian clergy are either overweight or obese (compared with 61% of the general population). Treatments of back problems and high blood pressure have been the top claims paid by the Southern Baptist Convention's health insurance program in recent years — ailments often resulting from obesity or a sedentary lifestyle.
Obesity also presents a credibility problem for pastors who stand in front of their congregations and preach on biblical verses such as the command to “glorify God in your body” (1 Corinthians 6:20). Recognizing this incongruity, I accepted the challenge of a friend — a Catholic priest — to join him in running the Marine Corps Marathon soon after my 40th birthday in 2000. I hadn't been a runner in high school and had avoided it pretty successfully in the ensuing years. But my friend convinced me that I could train for the race in six months, so I accepted his challenge and worked my way up to running the 26.2 miles.
In the years since, my marathon training has become a running meditation for me, and I have been amazed by the clarity of thought — along with the occasional agony of the body — that I experience during workouts. Long runs with members of my church have led to some intimate conversations, and I have found myself growing closer to these men and women through the pursuit of shared athletic goals.
My friend Vik Khanna, an exercise specialist certified by the American College of Sports Medicine, has teamed up with me to develop a program called “Ten Commandments of Faith and Fitness.” We've been meeting with 40 church members in monthly sessions since January, encouraging activities that will improve participants' spiritual and physical fitness. One class member recently reported with pride that she completed her first 100-mile bicycle race, and she told us that church friends working toward similar goals have been “a good source of support.”
The union of body and spirit carries with it the promise of integrity — that is, the bringing together of different parts into a unified whole. The root of the word religion is the Latin religare, which means “bind together,” reflecting a deep desire to have the various strands of life tied together. Most of us want to be complete and undivided, enjoying integrity as physical, emotional, moral, intellectual, sexual and spiritual creatures.
We can move closer to a life of integrity by pursuing health and wholeness in weekend worship and weekday workouts. The path to spiritual and physical fitness begins with a single step — or, in my case, six months of preparation for the Marine Corps Marathon.
posted by Henry Brinton | 8:01 PM
2 Comments:
Hello Henry,
Thanks for your comments... wanted to let you know what I am doing. see www.faithandhealthconnection.org
Have a blessed day!
... and BFIT4GOD !!
Thanks, Dale. Maybe we can share some faith and fitness resources. Henry
Post a Comment
<< Home