
The death of Socrates and death of Jesus reveal two very different views of what it means to be human and how we know truth.
For the famous philosopher, death is preferable. While trapped in the prison of the body, the soul can't really seek truth in a pure way. We're always contaminated by the need for food, by sickness, by love and lust, strife and war. Philosophers, then, are constantly trying to detach from their bodies and all the things we might prioritize in this material world.
Whereas Socrates goes to his death peacefully, reminding his followers (who just don't get it) that death is a friend, Jesus goes to his death in agony, recognizing that death is not the way it's supposed to be. Moreover, far from seeing his body as a prison to be escaped, it's precisely in and through the body of Jesus that redemption comes. This is a whole different view of the material world, a world that is saturated with signs of the goodness of God. For Christians like Aquinas and Calvin, it's precisely in and through the material world that we gain full human knowledge of who God is and what he's done. A good meal, a beautiful sunset, even the 'distraction' of human love--all these are signs and pointers of the goodness of God.
So while Socrates points to another higher, immaterial realm as he drinks the cup that leads to his death, Jesus takes the cup and the bread and points to himself, saying, "This is my body, broken for your body. This is my blood, shed for your life." That's the embodied gospel, good news that comes in the flesh for the redemption of our bodies. In fact, that's the whole point of receiving the Lord's Supper: it's not merely words into your brain, but food into your body. Against Socrates, there's a kind of bodily knowing that cannot just be translated into an intellectual proposition. That's why God often instructs his people to undertake bodily actions and physical remembrances. It's how we learn. It's how we get it.
So next time you celebrate the Lord's Supper, pay attention to this sequence of actions: take, eat, remember, believe--the body of Christ broken for you. We don't have to rid ourselves of our bodies to believe; instead, we need our bodies to really get to the truth, to really get to the meaning of Jesus' body for us.
For the famous philosopher, death is preferable. While trapped in the prison of the body, the soul can't really seek truth in a pure way. We're always contaminated by the need for food, by sickness, by love and lust, strife and war. Philosophers, then, are constantly trying to detach from their bodies and all the things we might prioritize in this material world.
Whereas Socrates goes to his death peacefully, reminding his followers (who just don't get it) that death is a friend, Jesus goes to his death in agony, recognizing that death is not the way it's supposed to be. Moreover, far from seeing his body as a prison to be escaped, it's precisely in and through the body of Jesus that redemption comes. This is a whole different view of the material world, a world that is saturated with signs of the goodness of God. For Christians like Aquinas and Calvin, it's precisely in and through the material world that we gain full human knowledge of who God is and what he's done. A good meal, a beautiful sunset, even the 'distraction' of human love--all these are signs and pointers of the goodness of God.
So while Socrates points to another higher, immaterial realm as he drinks the cup that leads to his death, Jesus takes the cup and the bread and points to himself, saying, "This is my body, broken for your body. This is my blood, shed for your life." That's the embodied gospel, good news that comes in the flesh for the redemption of our bodies. In fact, that's the whole point of receiving the Lord's Supper: it's not merely words into your brain, but food into your body. Against Socrates, there's a kind of bodily knowing that cannot just be translated into an intellectual proposition. That's why God often instructs his people to undertake bodily actions and physical remembrances. It's how we learn. It's how we get it.
So next time you celebrate the Lord's Supper, pay attention to this sequence of actions: take, eat, remember, believe--the body of Christ broken for you. We don't have to rid ourselves of our bodies to believe; instead, we need our bodies to really get to the truth, to really get to the meaning of Jesus' body for us.