I was feeling a little low, weary, and ‘out of sorts’: just not quite right. I wasn’t sick. Maybe just tired? But spiritually things were flat.
I was missing a sense of the Lord’s nearness. The vitality of my soul seemed to be waning. What was up? Did I just need a rest? Or was there something I needed to repent of?
The body: an instrument of the heart
Repentance is a possibility. Such emotional off-notes can be a clue to what is happening in our hearts. David knew the experience of delayed confession to be felt emotionally and physically (Ps.32). And of course, it isn’t just our sin that feels like strength dried up.
Our suffering can also register physically. We all know the experience of fear registering in bodies overcome with ‘butterflies’, hearts a-thumping and mouths gone dry. Or downcast souls to be a fountainhead from which physical tears flow (Ps.42). Our bodies express what’s happening in our hearts.
Paul, teaching on gospel sanctification in Romans, uses an interesting image of this relationship between heart and body. He urges those now in Christ not to present the members of their bodies as instruments to sin ruling in their hearts (Rom.6:12ff). Rather their bodies are to be instruments or tools of righteous hearts.
Just as a musician expresses their skill through the instrument, so the heart expresses its desire through the body. Felt emotions reflect what we value.
But does this mean that my body is always an accurate barometer of my heart? Does my weariness always express a spiritual problem? When my instrument is playing a tired and minor key, is the musician in trouble?
Our bodies-as-instruments are fallen and often out of tune. Paul again in Romans describes it like this: ‘For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now’ (Rom.8:22– 23). Our created, now fallen, bodies are groaning – sighing, burdened and under pressure – just by consequence of the curse.
It’s not surprising then that my body will feel flat, drained, low, exhausted; or anxious, stressed and nervous – not to mention illness, pain and injury. All because it is groaning along with the rest of creation. And not necessarily because there is anything wrong with my heart.
So the fallen body can be out of tune – even when the heart continues to play its notes of love and trust and belief. Of course, the groaning instrument makes it all the harder. A groaning body puts the heart under pressure – and that calls for greater faith.
Haven’t we seen that in weary, anxious and depressed people? That under feelings we have little control over, when we feel our faith to be at its weakest, those of us looking on are awed at a heart that keeps trusting truths that the body just does not feel. The instrument is sounding notes that are at best flat, maybe even absent, but the musician keeps heroically turning to the Lord.
How does this guide our pastoral care of the weary, stressed and depressed? We are certainly called to humble discernment as we ask:
Is the body at play? We will also have compassion on a body that is groaning.
Does the instrument need rest? We will encourage sabbath in all its forms, to be taken by faith.
Does the instrument need to be replenished? Recreation, exercise, medication are all ways that the sighing body can be gently restored.
And this care of the embodied soul we do in hope. The Word became flesh, died and rose again – so that in Him we would also rise with brand new, never-tiring, never-groaning bodies. Perfect instruments that will sound His praise forever.
