A little over a year ago, I started having some pretty intense and persistent jaw and referred ear pain. A friend of mine put me on the phone with her dad, an otolaryngologist (ENT) who listened kindly to my complaints, talked through some possibilities, and eventually suggested that my discomfort was related to my temporomandibular joint. Several months later, I finally located a dentist near me who specializes in temporomandibular disorders (TMD) and who was able to explain not only my jaw dysfunction but how pain throughout my body, which I had chalked up as senseless, was closely related to this. I felt deeply seen but also overwhelmed by the prospect of treatment, which I knew would not be easy. It has indeed been intensive and invasive. Because of this, I regularly struggle to discern when and how to share about it, especially as a pediatric speech-language pathologist subject to various clunky oral appliances that make my job responsibilities extremely challenging. The burden of self-disclosure is heavy; the sufferer has to be the one to decide who really wants to hear, how much they want to hear, and what they are safe to hold. I guess the beauty of a blog post is that most people who take the time to open the link and read probably already care to know at least a little bit, so thank you for reading any of this at all!
I embark on this tangent as someone who squirms hopelessly in chairs trying to find a comfortable position, leaves the concert early because the pain of standing is so intense, and plans outfits around which shoes will work with her prescribed 3-point arch supports. I often crack jokes about being a 24-year old blessed with an 84-year old’s body, but in spite of my “make light of dark situations with self-deprecating remarks” sense of humor, the truth is that I have wrestled internally with isolation, insecurity, and even hatred toward my body in the midst of it all. Pain is my humbler and my teacher, and I truly need God’s grace to fight sin and tenderly care for the body that he has called me to steward, even when it feels like it’s failing me.
Sometimes it feels impossible to land healthily in between disregard for the body and worship of the body, especially as a young female in a nation with an almost $100 billion beauty industry. Culture says, perfect the body, while the bible says train the body for godliness. Does the latter suggest that our bodies don’t matter?
As Christians, we know that our bodies are the temporary tents in which we dwell on earth (2 Corinthians 5:1-10). Paul says that “we groan, longing to put on our heavenly dwelling…”. We are also told that our bodies are to be “offered as a living sacrifice to God” (Romans 12:1-2), so does this give us license to self-mutilate? If our physical bodies are merely tents, maybe they hold no intrinsic value at all. We can neglect nutrition and exercise and engage in any bodily pleasure we desire, because we won’t be in this skin forever, right?
Not at all! This is not a call for self-mutilation, but rather, for a heart, soul, and mind committed to serving God. Romans 12 goes on to say that this offering is our “spiritual worship”. Our bodies are consecrated, or declared sacred. We are called to glorify God in them (1 Corinthians 6:18-20). All were made in the image of God, and his spirit dwells within those who believe in him, so to demean the body is to demean God’s good creation. I’ll defer to someone much smarter than me to further elucidate this biblical ethic:
“…Biblical morality expresses a high view of the dignity and significance of the body. The biblical view of sexuality is not based on a few scattered Bible verses. It is based on a teleological worldview that encourages us to live in accord with the physical design of our bodies. By respecting the body, the biblical ethic overcomes the dichotomy separating body from person. It heals self-alienation and creates integrity and wholeness. The root of the word integrity means whole, integrated, unified—our mind and emotions in tune with our physical body. The biblical view leads to a holistic integration of personality. It fits who we really are.” – Nancy Pearcey, Love Thy Body
I love the sharp theological and rational movement of Pearcey’s book on the body. In this text, she presents a stellar argument against personhood theory, which upholds a two-tiered view of humanness in which the body is separate from the mind. She states that this logic is often used to inform decisions about the body that are denigrating to it; the body is actually devalued when one’s worth is placed entirely in the mind or consciousness. She spends most of her time in the text expounding on the dangers that unfold where this person/body dichotomy exists. Pearcey instead promotes the goodness of God’s design for “psycho-physical unity”. She states, “We respect and honor our bodies as part of the revelation of God’s purpose for our lives. It is part of the created order that is “declaring the glory of God.”
We were created with purpose, and no body is an accident, no matter what degree of brokenness is felt within it. The cerebral and corporeal are one, and what we do in our bodies is vastly significant.Neuroscience tells us that psychosomatic symptoms (headaches, increased heart rate, stomach pain, etc.) can even emerge from negative psychological experiences (stress, fear, anger, etc.) just as painful physiological realities can trigger negative psychological responses. This scientific fact collides tragically with personhood theory. Our mental health matters, and when it is out of equilibrium, we feel it in our bodies. Our physical health matters, and when our bodies are not working as they should, the emotional reverberations linger. In The Body Keeps the Score, secular psychiatrist Bessel van der Kolk explains this deep integration:
“We have learned that trauma is not just an event that took place sometime in the past; it is also the imprint left by that experience on mind, brain, and body. This imprint has ongoing consequences for how the human organism manages to survive in the present. Trauma results in a fundamental reorganization of the way the mind and brain manage perceptions. It changes not only how we think and what we think about, but also our very capacity to think.”
When trauma is at play, talk therapy simply does not work. Whether someone has experienced verbal abuse, sexual abuse, or neglect, it is deeply felt within the physical body, and thus, it has to be treated in the physical body.
Anyone who lives with chronic pain can also testify to this interconnectedness of the mind and body. This graphic says it all; physical and emotional pain rarely exist in isolation.
With physical pain, the danger is that it can easily turn us inward. Imagine that on one isolated afternoon, you have a migraine and are planning to meet a friend to catch up over coffee. The throbbing pain in your skull will likely override any prior desire you had to engage in meaningful dialogue with them. Even if, for love of your friend, you were to endure a cup of coffee and conversation in spite of the pain, you would likely be distracted and fighting to be present. Now imagine the emotional toll that facing this pain on a daily basis would take on your soul. You’d find it hard to focus your mind on anything else with the same assiduity and might feel that you have no capacity reserved to care for others at all. Chronic pain means being exhausted by the tasks that were once mindless and being tempted toward perpetual irritability from constantly working to push through the discomfort. I fight this battle daily.
The recurring thought that haunts me is, What if I go to all of these appointments, do all of these exercises, and read all of this literature to end up in the exact same place where I started? I have often asked, “What if it doesn’t work?”
Yet, the next immediate question is always “But what if it does?”
This brings to mind what Christians are really considering when they put their faith in Jesus, who claimed to have been the savior of the world some thousands of years ago.
In 1 Corinthians 15, the apostle Paul says,
“If Christ has not been raised, our preaching is useless and so is your faith. More than that, we are then found to be false witnesses about God, for we have testified about God that he raised Christ from the dead. But he did not raise him if in fact the dead are not raised. For if the dead are not raised, then Christ has not been raised either. And if Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile; you are still in your sins. Then those also who have fallen asleep in Christ are lost. If only for this life we have hope in Christ, we are of all people most to be pitied.”
My TMD treatment does not at all compare to the resurrection, but it has called to mind the weight of accurately placed hope. The claim that Christ resurrected from the dead is the hinge point of the entire religion; Paul is saying that if this isn’t true, then his followers’ whole life and ministry (including the persecution and martyrdom) was in vain. He would not truly be God, be the perfect sacrifice for human sin, or reign victorious over death. Yet, Paul goes on to say “But Christ has indeed been raised from the dead…” then proceeds to lay out the life and hope this ushers in. If it is all true, there is a concrete answer and end to our pain. How much more hopeful if true than it is hopeless if false?
In regard to my treatment, I have hope that what I’ve been promised will prove true, that I will someday be relieved from my pain.
Yet, whether it “works” or not, I have a greater hope. To go on living without Christ in our pain is to suffer for nothing, but to know and believe that He was who he claimed to be is to hurt knowing that it will someday have an end. Not only the body but also its pain, is teleological, serving as an arrow to a higher creative design. Praise God that for as much ugliness as pain has brought out in me, it has caused me to physically feel that I am limited and drawn me to fix my eyes on the only one who is not.
“And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.” – Revelation 21:3-4
Faithful endurance is not in vain; Christ is our sure and steady anchor, and we can lean on his promise that pain has an end point. It may not end in this life, but it will, without a doubt, be no more in the next.
maddie shay carter 