Richard Rohr once wrote,
“I sincerely hate to say it, but I fear that Platonic philosophy has had more influence in Christian history than has Jesus. The Jesus and Christ event says that matter and spirit, divine and human, are not enemies, but are two sides of the same coin. They, in fact, reveal one another.”
That quote made me start to wonder, and as I researched, I began to understand.
For centuries, many of us have been taught to treat the body with suspicion. At best, it was a temporary container for the soul. At worst, it was an enemy to overcome. We inherited a theology that told us spirit and matter were separate, that holiness meant escaping the body, disciplining it, or ignoring it.
But Jesus showed us something entirely different. The incarnation tells us that God not only entered human flesh but sanctified it. The body is not the enemy of the spirit. The body is where the Spirit dwells.
And yet, we still see the legacy of Plato all around us. We see it in the shame many carry around sexuality. In our neglect of the earth, animals, and our own health. In our discomfort with touch, emotions, and the simple act of slowing down enough to feel.
Maybe you’ve felt the pull between wanting to be spiritual and yet feeling disconnected from your body. I know I have.
This piece is an invitation to see it differently. To remember that coming home to your body is not a detour from the spiritual path. It is the spiritual path.
How Plato Shaped Our Thinking
Plato taught that the soul was trapped in the body, that flesh and spirit were at odds. True freedom, in his view, meant escaping the physical and living in the realm of ideas.
When Christianity spread through a Greek‑speaking world, this philosophy seeped into theology. Over time, suspicion of the body became deeply woven into Catholic, Orthodox, and Protestant traditions.
Instead of celebrating the body as a gift, many Christians were taught to mistrust it. Sexuality became dangerous. Desire was viewed with suspicion. Suffering in the body was sometimes even glorified as more spiritual than joy.
The result was a faith that often sounded more Platonic than Christian, aiming for disembodied holiness instead of incarnational wholeness.
The Incarnational Alternative
Plato told us the body was a prison. But the world’s great spiritual traditions have always whispered a different truth telling us that spirit and matter are not enemies but companions.
In Christianity, we call this the Incarnation. “The Word became flesh and dwelt among us” (John 1:14). Jesus touched the sick, shared meals, washed feet, and wept with his friends. God did not hover above human life. God entered it, blessing the body from within.
Other traditions echo this vision. In Hinduism, Krishna and Rama embody the divine in flesh and form. In Buddhism, the Buddha’s life of eating, walking, touching becomes the very vehicle of awakening. In Sufism, Rumi and Hafiz sing of a God who is tasted, felt, and embraced. Indigenous traditions remind us that Spirit is known through the earth, rivers, animals, and wind.
All of them tell us that our bodies are not obstacles to God. Our bodies are connecting heaven and earth.
The Cost of Distrusting the Body
When we forget this incarnational vision, the consequences run deep:
Sexual shame
Many of us carry wounds from purity culture or teachings that treated desire as dangerous. Instead of seeing sexuality as part of God’s good creation, it became something to suppress or fear.
Neglect of creation
If matter is seen as less important than spirit, then the earth becomes something to use rather than cherish. Our history of environmental disregard shows the cost of this belief.
Disconnection from our own bodies
When holiness is framed as transcending flesh then we lose the ability to listen inward. We push through pain and ignore our needs all while living cut off from the wisdom within ourselves.
This suspicion of the body has left us spiritually hungry. We long for something more real and grounded.
The Invitation to Come Home
The good news is that the invitation has always been waiting.
Coming home to our bodies means remembering they are not problems to solve but sacred places where love already lives.
With your breath
Each inhale and exhale reminds us we are alive, here, and held.
Through touch
A hand over the heart, a hug, or a massage. The body sighs with relief when reminded it belongs.
With rest and rhythm
Honoring our need for sleep, stillness, and slowing down is not laziness its reverence.
By caring for creation
When we honor the earth then we honor the body we share with all living things.
This path is not about perfection. It is about remembering. One gentle breath at a time.
A Closing Reflection
Plato told us to distrust the body. Jesus, and countless voices across traditions, showed us to inhabit it fully.
The incarnation means your body is not an obstacle. It is a temple where love already dwells.
💬 I’d love to hear your reflections in the comments. Sharing your story may help someone else who is learning, like all of us, how to come home again.
Keith Rowe is a breathworker, teacher, and founder of Vital Healing, a nonprofit where he helps people reconnect to the wisdom of the body and transform through breathwork, shadow work, somatic practice, and spiritual clarity.
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.