I was reading Richard Rohr, and he said in The Universal Christ that much of Christian history has been guided more by Greek philosophy than by Jesus himself. In another of his teachings he puts it even more bluntly,
“I sincerely hate to say it, but I fear that Platonic philosophy has had more influence in Christian history than Jesus.”
That caught my attention and sent me looking into how Plato’s ideas shaped the way we think about God, our bodies, and our world.
Shadows and Forms
Plato imagined that what we see and touch here is not fully real. In his allegory of the cave, people are chained underground, mistaking shadows on the wall for reality. For him, the world we know through our senses is only appearance. The truth lives elsewhere in a realm of perfect Forms.
This way of thinking casts the body as a problem. The soul is imagined as pure and immortal, while the body is a prison that distracts us with hunger, desire, and weakness. Death itself becomes liberation, a chance for the soul to leave behind the mess of flesh and finally contemplate what is real. When early church fathers absorbed Plato’s categories, they split heaven from earth, soul from body, spirit from matter.
God and Christ were pushed outside of lived experience, placed in a perfect realm far from the touch of mud, water, and breath.
Cleansing the Doors of Perception
Centuries later, William Blake offered a very different vision. In The Marriage of Heaven and Hell he wrote,
“If the doors of perception were cleansed, everything would appear as it is: infinite.”
Blake was pushing back against both the rigid religion and the rationalism of his time. He believed our senses were not the problem but the key, if only they could be cleansed of fear and habit. To see clearly was to glimpse the infinite shimmering in the ordinary.
Where Plato told us not to trust the senses, Blake invited us to cleanse them. Plato saw the body as a prison, holding the soul back from truth. Blake saw the body as a doorway, opening us to what is most real. For Plato, the truest things lived elsewhere, in a realm of perfect Forms. For Blake, truth was already here, pulsing in trees, rivers, bread, and breath.
Hearing the Earth Speak
Philosopher David Abram builds on this vision in his book The Spell of the Sensuous. He reminds us that our bodies are not machines but participants in the dance of life. The world is not inert matter. It is alive and filled with its own voices. When we hear the rustle of leaves, the chorus of cicadas, or water moving over stone we are listening to the more than human world. Abram says our senses are not obstacles but the very means by which we enter into conversation with the living earth.
This is why it can be so powerful to pause and give your full attention. Even the smallest shift in sound or movement can become a word spoken by the world itself. Here is a short video of the wind moving through the cornfield.
Listen as if the field itself is singing.
Practices for Seeing Differently
Talk back. After you listen, respond. Place your hand on the trunk of a tree or the surface of a stone. Say hello. Thank it. Let yourself imagine that it knows you, because in its own way, it does. Humans have always lived in dialogue with the world around them.
Remember your kin. St. Francis of Assisi called the sun his brother and the moon his sister. He blessed the birds, water, and fire as family. You can do the same. Step outside and greet the sun, the moon, the trees, the grass, and the birds as relatives who share this world with you.
Trust your senses. Our culture often trains us to dismiss what we see, hear, and feel. Remember that every sensation is a thread tying us back into the living world.
These are not about pretending. We are remembering the earth is alive, and we belong in it. Every time we open our senses we step back into communion with the more than human community that surrounds us.
Why It Matters Now
All of this brings me back to Jesus. When filtered through Plato, Christianity made this world feel broken and temporary, never fully real. But Jesus never taught that. His whole life was rooted in incarnation. He blessed bread and wine, healed with spit and mud, touched lepers, and told us the kingdom of God is within us.
Many others across the centuries have leaned closer to Blake and Abram’s vision. The Desert Fathers and Mothers sought God in silence and wilderness. Francis of Assisi sang to Brother Sun and Sister Moon and blessed animals as kin.
Hildegard of Bingen spoke of the “greening power” of God pulsing through all creation. Meister Eckhart taught that every creature is a word of God. Later, Teilhard de Chardin saw Christ as the energy binding the cosmos together.
Thomas Merton and Howard Thurman described encountering God in the ordinary fabric of life. More recently, poets like Mary Oliver and Wendell Berry remind us that Spirit speaks through the earth itself.
The infinite is not elsewhere. It is here, woven into every tree, every body, and every breath. To follow Jesus is not to escape matter but to recognize Spirit in matter.
The invitation is not to run from the shadows but to cleanse the doors of our perception until everything before us shines with the Infinite.
If you want to take this further, two books worth exploring are David Abram’s The Spell of the Sensuous and Richard Rohr’s The Universal Christ.
*Cover Image: The William Blake Archive, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
Keith Rowe is a breathworker, teacher, and founder of Vital Healing, a nonprofit that helps people reconnect with the wisdom of their heart through breathwork, somatic practice, and walking meditation.
He is co-creator of the upcoming Walking Pilgrim app, a 33-day journey of mindful walking and presence. Sign up to receive updates for when it is released at walkingpilgrim.com.