Posts Tagged ‘st paul’

Bodily Resurrection and Food 2: Food and the Dead Body

Sunday, February 28th, 2010

Dear Friends,

This week has been a slightly odd week for research.  I’ve been writing more than I’ve written without writer’s block.  I hope this stream of words coming from my pen (yes, I still use pen and paper, what of it, tough guy?) doesn’t stop.  I put it down to a new item of food I have been having for lunch.  There’s a lovely lovely place outside of Euston station that sells something called ’shraps’ and they’re like larger portions of sushi but more filling.  I’ve been feeling fantastic in the two days since I’ve had them!  Anyway…

Here is the second instalment of some of my thinking on food and the dead body to follow up the last post on the living body.  To remind you, the question I aimed to address was: Have Ideas on Food and Eating Influenced Understanding of the Corporeal Resurrection Body, Particularly in Relation to 1 Corinthians 15:42-44? and, also to remind you, the passage in question is:

‘It is sown in corruption; it is raised in incorruption: It is sown in dishonour; it is raised in glory: it is sown in weakness; it is raised in power.  It is sown a natural body; it is raised a spiritual body.  There is a natural body, and there is a spiritual body’ (1 Corinthians 15: 42-44, King James Version)

And now…

Food and the Dead Body:

Christ as Food:

I have not indulged in the debates about the Last Supper, as might be expected here.  The debate on the meaning of the unleavened bread, for example, and even the disputes that the bread is unleavened in the first place I have found ultimately irrelevant, if very interesting.  Indeed, there are also well-trodden sets of arguments, I have come to discover, that surround the various meanings of Christ’s blood.  These intricacies are all very fascinating but it is the notion of Christ’s body being food that interests me.

Food and the dead body in both the Last Supper and the resurrection perverts the usual relationship between food and the body.  Whereas it is usually the body that takes the food, the body now is the food.  A consumed body demonstrates an interesting relationship and complicated passage between the living and the dead, and the corruptible and the incorruptible.  The ownership of the body is placed into question, for example, when one eats another’s body.  Also, it would seem that two bodies cannot occupy the same space and this must have implications for the resurrection, if material continuity and a concept of identity are to be integral.

Apart from accounts of the Last Supper and the symbols of bread and wine as Christ’s body and blood, the idea of Christ’s body as food seems to have been prevalent in medieval theory and particularly in painting.  One such painting, from the studio of Freidrich Herlin, painted Christ with Ears of Wheat and Grape Vine.

Freidrich Herlin School

Bynum, in Fragmentation and Redemption writes on this in a chapter about conceptions of the body of Christ in the middle ages.  She points out that the female was seen to be the provider of the food and many medieval assumptions linked woman and flesh to the body of God (Bynum 1991, 100, 101).  Bynum concludes by saying that ‘Holy women imitated Christ in their bodies [most stigmatics were women]; and Christ’s similar bleeding and feeding body was understood as analogous to theirs (ibid 104).  Robin Campin’s Madonna and Child before a Firescreen (below) depicts Mary offering both her breast and son to the viewer (ibid).  Here, both the woman and Christ are offered as food, linking both birth (through implicating Mary) and death to food and the process of eating.

capinRobbert1430NatGal

An interesting passage to bring to bear upon this is 1 Corinthians 12:27: ‘Now ye are the body of Christ, and members in particular’.  Not only is the bread and wine Christ’s body and blood, it is the Christian body and blood by extension.  Further, Vine insists that the passage in the pre-translation bible lacks a definite article thereby placing different emphasis upon the relationship between Christ and His followers: ‘[t]he proper rendering is “ye are body of Christ” (not ye are Christ’s body, which puts emphasis on “Christ”), that is to say “body of Christ” is the quality or condition of the assembly as a whole of which each individual forms a member.’ (Vine 1951, 175-176) This is also reflected in Paul: ‘we being many are one bread, and one body: for we are all partakers of that one bread.’ (1 Corinthians 10: 17) In her From Feasting to Fasting, Grimm renders this relationship from Paul’s view as ‘participation in “the body of Christ”’ (Grimm 1996, 67) Further, Hodgeson notes that, with this gesture, the body of every believer is a member of Christ and it must therefore follow that ‘”flesh and blood” have entered the kingdom, and are now in the present life.’ (Hodgeson 1853, 24) Furthermore, Tertullian asserts that ‘the flesh feeds on the Body and Blood of Christ so that the soul also may be replete with God’ (reproduced with commentary in Evans 1960, 25).

Cannibalism:

Hodgson worried, in his text about the resurrection, that ‘more than thrice seven years ago an European was eaten up by a company of cannibals in a distant island, and when we reflect that the substance of his body became, by assimilation, incorporated with theirs; and supposing that those cannibals died before they had thrown off the particles of matter acquired from his body, would not one man be entirely lost from the universe for ever?’ (Hodgeson 1853, 54) This concern has long stood and Aquinas also voiced (and dealt with) it:

There are to be found men who eat human flesh and nothing else; and men thus nourished have children.  Consequently the same flesh will be in several men.  But it cannot possibly rise again in several men: and yet the resurrection would surely not be universal and entire, if each one did not regain what he had before.  Therefore it would seem impossible that men will rise again.’ (Aquinas 1927, 273)

The above quotation is from Summa contra Gentiles.  This work is referred to in John Candlish’s article, St. Thomas Aquinas and the Dynamic State of Body Constituents.  Candlish points out that Summa contra Gentiles was Aquinas’ ‘reference work for missionaries [who were] obliged to deal with the concept of the resurrection and the theoretical difficulties which might be raised by it.’ (Candlish 1968, 272) This refers to an objection that Aquinas later deals with by explaining that the assumption that ‘identity [...] depends on continuity’ is ‘based on a false premise’ – that of being is ‘not merely adherent to matter and the soul’s being [...] remains after the dissolution of the body’ (Aquinas 1927, 277).  The identity of the risen body has therefore been a key concern in the resurrection of the body, as it has been thought that bodily continuity is integral to the resurrection; Christians want not only a body back after death, they want their own body.  Aquinas addresses some fears of the missionaries: ‘the flesh consumed will rise again in the man in whom it was first perfected by a rational soul’ (Aquinas 1927, 278).  He continues to be concerned for those potential savage converts and their families who may have not eaten anything but other people!

‘the second man – if he partook of other food besides human flesh – will rise again with only such matter as he acquired from this other food, and in such quantity as is required from this other food [...].  But if he partake of no other food, he will rise again with what he received from his parents, and the deficiency will be supplied by the omnipotence of his Creator.  And if his parents also partook of none but human meat, so that this seed would also be engendered therefrom, their children will rise again with that seed, and he whose flesh was consumed will be supplied from another source.’ (ibid, 278-279)

This rather elaborate explanation will allow for those who have had their own flesh eaten to regain that flesh and for the cannibal to be resurrected too, in theory. Graham, in contrast, worries that if you have ‘eaten swine’, part of you ‘has once wallowed like a hog in the mire’ (Graham 1783, 7) and that part of you is forever a part of you – relating to the earlier segment of the discussion about food and the living body.  Identity is central here, too.  Indeed, the corporeal fate of those eaten by savages seems to be that one becomes part of the savage, quite literally becoming what you eat (possible title here that you will like, Sharon: ‘You are what you eat!’) Aquinas, however, obviates such fears and advises that ’there is no need that whatever was in man materially should rise again in him; and that if anything be lacking, it can be supplied by God’s power.’ (Aquinas 1927, 278)

The above interpretations rely on the idea of individual identity persisting through the passage from corruptible to incorruptible and place physical continuity at the heart of that.  Theophilus of Antioch (unknown – c183) associates this material continuity with bones, which did not appear to decay.  Cannibalism is a crucial issue for him. (Bynum 1995, 31)  The bone, then, would seem to act as the seed from which one could sprout a heavenly, incorruptible body on the day of judgement.

As an aside concerning identity, there have arisen questions of what might be called the liminal body parts – hair, teeth, nails et cetera and whether, having no use after the resurrection, would they be resurrected? This question has been asked of all body parts but seem particularly pertinent for these liminal parts, as they continuously grow and it would be unseemly for all of the matter ever grown to be re-united with the body.  Aquinas, as always, has an answer in the supplement to his Summa Theologica when discussing ‘The integrity of the bodies in the resurrection’.  He identifies two ‘perfections’: the first being those parts that are ‘directed to the accomplishment of the souls’ operations, for instance the heart, liver, hand, foot’ and the second being those ‘directed to the safe keeping of other parts as leaves to cover fruit; thus hair and nails are in man for the protection of other parts’ and, he says, all parts will rise again for the purpose of identity (Aquinas 1947, Part 3, supplement, qu80:2).  So, for Aquinas, identity is re-established after death.

Bynum states that the question of individual identity had not been raised in philosophy of the period of Paul (Bynum 1995, 25) and so identifying oneself as an individual seems not to have been an issue to him but something read into his text by later theologians like Aquinas and Graham.  To contrast with this concern of identity that Aquinas and others worry about, I would like to draw upon Clement of Rome’s (unknown – c100) version of the story of the Phoenix, bringing to bear the body as food.  To later Authors, as Bynum points out, it is important that the same bird rises.  To Clement, however, bodily continuity does not seem particularly important:

‘the bird dies; its flesh decays; a worm or larva is born from this putrefying flesh and feeds on it.  Eventually the worm grows wings and flies to the altar of its triumph carrying the bones of the old bird, now stripped clean.’ (in Bynum 1995, 25)

The condition of the dead body is actually complicated further by Graham, who likens the corruptible body to ‘grass’.  Graham refers to the Hebrew word used in the original scripture: ‘whatever is newly sprung up and sprouteth out of the ground’ (Graham 1783, 5) – for other uses, see Genesis 1:11, ‘Let the earth bring forth grass’; Matthew 6:30, ‘God so clothe the grass of the field’.  It is interesting how under this interpretation, the body is treated as being fundamentally similar to things that are edible; prepared for the journey inside – at least for the purposes of resurrection.  By this logic, one can be eaten and be still of a stuff that can be raised; the pre-resurrection body and food are essentially of the same ilk.

‘What man who believes in a resurrection would offer himself as a tomb for bodies destined to arise?’ (Athenagoras 1972, 86)

Identity seems central to Athenagoras too, who argues that a human being cannot be said to exist when scattered and dissolved, even if the soul survives.  The restoration of a soul to its original body is what defines resurrection (Athenagoras 1972, 146).  In contrast to this and as a note on continuity, Aquinas points out the metaphor of a fire: the fire that burns when the logs have disappeared and new ones put on is still the same fire (Aquinas 1927, 278).

Tertullian also sees resurrection as re-assemblage of bits: ‘So then the flesh will rise again, all of it indeed, itself, entire.  Wherever it is, it is on deposit with God through the faithful trustee of God and men, Jesus Christ, who will pay back both God to man and man to God, spirit to flesh and flesh to spirit.’ (reproduced with commentary in Evans 1960, 184-185) Thus we rise “whole” [...] like a damaged and repaired ship whose parts are restored though some of the planks are new. (Bynum 1995, 37)

Thinking about the stomach as a tomb and being resurrected from it, Ignatius, in his Epistle to the Romans (around year 100), proclaims himself ‘the wheat of God; and I shall be ground by the teeth of the wild beasts, that I may be found the pure bread of Christ.’ (in Bickersteth 1838, 75-76).  He is to be executed and thrown to the lions.  He taunts his executioners: ‘Let breaking of bones and tearing of members; let the shattering in pieces of the whole body, and all the wicked torments of the devil come upon me; and only let me enjoy Jesus Christ’ (ibid, 76).  No matter what the lions do to him, even if they grind him into dust, he will be raised because God will piece him together again.  For Ignatius, not even material continuity of bones is needed.  So, it appears that under some interpretations, complete digestion is still not an obstacle to resurrection; digestion is interpreted as a transition, not as annihilation, as particles can be placed together by the power of God.

Afterthought:

There seems to be sibling understandings of purity in eating and purity in the raised body.  Through controlling beastly passions, one can prepare for resurrection.  The dead body being food is something that allows the resurrection to be understood through bodily margins and conceptions of purity.  But it also complicates it.  By considering cannibalism, and even Christ as food is a form of cannibalism, one is forced into increasingly inventive and elaborate explanations.

It appears as though food is indeed essential to understanding the body in 1 Corinthians 15:42-44.  If one understands that the corporeal body is usually, but not always, defined by a concept of identity and continuity, it appears that the act of eating and the image of the body as food is analogous to that of resurrection or a transition between bodies.  Following the passage between corruptible and incorruptible is as if following a passage of outside to inside; impurity to purity.

List of Works Cited:

Athenagoras of Athens (1972) Legatio and De Resurrectione, trans. Schoedel, William R., Oxford: Clarendon Press.

Aquinas, Thomas (1923), Summa contra Gentiles, Trans. Fathers of the English Dominican Province, London: Burns Oates & Washbourne ltd.

Aquinas, Thomas (1947), Summa Theologica, Trans. Fathers of the English Dominican Province, New York: Benziger Bros. Online at <http://www.ccel.org/ccel/aquinas/summa.toc.html>

Bickersteth, E (1838), The Christian Fathers of the First and Second Centuries, London: R.B. Seeley and W. Burnside

Bynum, Caroline Walker (1991), Fragmentation and Redemption: Essays on Gender and the Human Body in Medieval Religion, New York: Zone Books.

Bynum, Caroline Walker (1995), The Resurrection of the Body in Western Christianity, 200-1336, New York: Columbia University Press.

Campin, Robert (1430), The Virgin and Child Before a Firescreen, London: National Gallery.  Online at <http://www.museumsyndicate.com/item.php?item=9366>.

Candlish, John (1968), ‘St Thomas Aquinas and the Dynamic State of Body Constituents’ in Journal of the History of Medicine and Allied Sciences, vol.23, July 1968, pp272-275.

Evans, Ernst (1960), Tertullian’s Treatise on the Resurrection, London: SPCK.

Graham, James (1783), A Discourse Delivered on Sunday, August 17th 1783 at Edinburgh, wherein the nature, and manner of the Resurrection of the human Body, and the immortality, or future modes of existence, and progress of the Soul! Are Philosophically, Medically, and Religiously explained, by Doctor James Graham of the Temple of Health, In Pall-Mall, near the King’s Palace, London, Hull: T. Briggs.

Grimm, Veronika E. (1996), From Feasting to Fasting, the Evolution of a Sin, London: Routledge.

Hodgeson, George (1853), The Human Body at the Resurrection of the Dead, London: R.Boyd.

Vine, W.E. (1951), 1 Corinthians, London: Oliphants Limited.

Bodily Resurrection and Food 1: Food and the Living Body

Monday, February 22nd, 2010

Dear Friends,

It’s Monday evening and I’ve been putting off writing this because I have had an essay to complete about St. Paul.  I’ve struggled all the way through it.  At first it was as though I was tackling a rump steak with a plastic knife and spoon.  Then, I thought I cracked it.  Finally, I read and read and read on the subject I thought I cracked and ended up with thousands upon thousands of words.  Around 25,000 words of quotations and my own commentary.  So, my essay on resurrection turned out to be an essay on a very specific aspect of resurrection and indeed you wouldn’t think you’d get very much at all out of it.  In fact, to focus it I had to frame the title as a question thus:

Have Ideas on Food and Eating Influenced Understanding of the Corporeal Resurrection Body, Particularly in Relation to 1 Corinthians 15:42-44?

And, you know what? I think they bloomin’ well did! Now, I’m not going to reproduce my essay here, rather only some strands of thought that I’ve been toying with and find quite pertinent.  Essentially, I set off from the passage in 1 Corinthians 15 and discussed various interpretations under two headings: ‘Food and the Living Body’ and ‘Food and the Dead Body’.  In this entry, I’ll only look at the passage itself and food and the living body.  Food and the dead body will have to wait for another evening!

The Passage:

‘It is sown in corruption; it is raised in incorruption: It is sown in dishonour; it is raised in glory: it is sown in weakness; it is raised in power.  It is sown a natural body; it is raised a spiritual body.  There is a natural body, and there is a spiritual body’ (1 Corinthians 15: 42-44, King James Version)

Of the nineteen other English translations of the bible that I could find to compare with the standard King James Version, there was one that particularly caught my eye.  The New Century Version of the New Testament states that the body is ‘planted’ rather than ‘sown’:

It is the same with the dead who are raised to life.  The body that is “planted” will ruin and decay, but it is raised to a life that cannot be destroyed.  When the body is “planted,” it is without honor [sic], but it is raised in glory.  When the body is “planted,” it is weak, but when it is raised, it is powerful.  The body that is “planted” is a physical body.  When it is raised, it is a spiritual body. (1 Corinthians 15: 42-44, New Century Version)

Also rather striking is the replacement of the word ‘natural’ with ‘physical’.  The Wycliffe New Testament Version goes further still, replacing ‘natural’ with ‘beastly’, emphasising the animal and spiritual dichotomy.  The natural/ physical/ beastly body always somehow becomes a spiritual one after the seed is ‘sown’ or ‘planted’.  Each of these slight differences in interpretation emphasise the existence of two distinct states of body, whatever they are ultimately described as.  Logically, therefore, one understands that there is transition between the two states; a passage through the margins of two conditions or bodies of being.  This is what I understand to be the bodily resurrection.

The seed metaphor seems to have persisted in many of the examples I have found from later periods.  For instance, A Sermon Preached at Whitehall in 1694 by George Stanhope, interprets that man ‘comes up like a flower’ and, when trampled, there is ‘hope that it will sprout again’ (Stanhope 1694, 17).  Later still, James Graham in 1783 adopts a similar, yet grander, interpretation.  Graham asserts the following is ‘the real and rational meaning of the Scriptures’ and ‘what [he] understand[s] to be meant by the resurrection of the body’ passage from 1 Corinthians 15 (Graham 1783, 17)

That the human body, being originally formed of, and recruited or supported, whilst alive, by continual accessions of certain combinations of the primary, elementary particles of matter, returns, at what we call Death, and crumbling down into its parent earth, is again dispersed, and its component particles of invisible fire, air, water, oil, salts, and earth separate, and each returning to the great original mass or womb, from which nature took it, is assimilated, and re-animated by their kindred particles in their respective great masses of the elements of air, earth, fire, water &c (ibid.)

Further, Graham insists that the ‘flesh, blood, and juices’ that are now mine once belonged to ‘the sheep, to the ox, and to the hog’ (Graham 1783, 5-6).  Distributing ownership in this manner seems antithetical to many interpretations, however.  Faced with Bynum’s assertion that in the early 200s a ‘crude material continuity’ in resurrection stories prevailed (Bynum 1995, 27) and Graham’s description of dispersing particles, it is amazing how Bynum could well have been describing Graham’s conception (roughly) 1600 years earlier.  There seems to be a direct correlation between the seed and that which sprouts from it in each case and the passing from corruptible to incorruptible is one that should be understood by the transition from an inside to an outside.

Food and the Living Body:

And now we come to the living body.  Here I thought about the ideas of ‘inside/ outside’ as they might relate to food.  I thought about ancient Jewish ideas about the body and its excreta and the similarities between the descriptions of spittle, semen, tears, excrement, et cetetra, and the ‘corruptible’ human body.  In her Purity & Danger, Mary Douglas points out that, amongst the ancient Jews, bodily excreta (spittle, semen, tears, excrement, et cetera) was considered ‘unclean’ (Douglas 1966, 124).  Once something had passed through the body, it was not recognised as part of the body.  Neyrey supported this assertion by insisting that Paul, as a Pharisee ‘would have been socialised to concern himself with bodily purity and pollution’ (Neyrey 1990, 112).  Later in his work, Neyrey refers to the difference between terrestrial and celestial bodies as being congruent with Paul’s Pharisaic sense of ‘an exact purity system: a place for everything and everything in its place’ (Neyrey 1990, 143), hence the construction of the ‘inside’ and ‘outside’ categories of thought.  Dale Martin notes, in his The Corinthian Body, that ‘in the ancient world, notions of the body and pollution were related to concepts of disease’ (Martin 1995, 139) and the difference between inside and outside was central in not only thinking about eating but also the treatment of things passing through the margins of the body.  Tears, saliva, semen, urine, and other bodily excrement were considered as ‘outside’ and impure/ dirty/ corrupt.  This logic of bodily excreta being unclean can be observed in the notion of a kosher meal, where the blood needs to be drained from the meat entirely before serving.

So, if you were to transpose this logic onto the bodies that Paul concerns himself with in 1 Corinthians 15, that would suggest that human bodies are the excrement of the ‘other side’ or heaven.  ‘Paradise’ is like a body that we have been ejected from; humans are the spittle and excrement of the incorruptible, as it were, only we can pass through this margin to become pure and incorruptible after death.  There is a chance of redemption.  The transition between inside and outside is between the two states.  It is present in corruption/ incorruption; perishable/ imperishable; clean/ unclean; and pure/ impure.  I suggest that Paul’s understanding of resurrection of the body is that of something coming from outside (earth) to inside (heaven); the body is impure excrement, therefore unclean, hoping to be made a pure and incorruptible heavenly body.

Further, I looked at interpretations of the passage directly from the Greek bible, such as that of W.E. Vine.  He points out that the word used for ‘corruption’, Phthora, ‘is used of the condition of creation [...]; of the effect of the withdrawal of life and thus of the condition of the human body in burial’ but he also points out that there is nothing in this word ‘or in the stronger word diapthora to involve or even suggest annihilation’, rather transition (Vine 1951, 219).  This would then be congruent with the interpretations supporting transition or movement through margins, such as eating, rather than destruction and re-invention (as in the example of Clement of Rome’s version of the Phoenix myth that I’ll talk about later when I get to food and the dead body).

Thomas Aquinas (1225 – 1274), in his Summa contra Gentiles, recommends that in the resurrection ‘life will be provided by God alone’, whereas our present life has been provided through the ‘co-operation of nature’ (Aquinas 1927, 284) so there will be no need for food or sex.  These things are ‘pleasures of the beast’ (ibid, 288) and not required of the incorruptible.  An author writing under ‘A. Layman’ echoes this in these sentiments:

‘The body we bury, a natural animal body, resembling the body of the beast in its wants and appetites and passions, shall be raised a spiritual body.  We shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more.  We shall neither marry, nor be given in marriage, but be as the angels which are in heaven.’ (Layman 1851, 21)

In a spirit of optimism, there seems to be expectation that one can prepare one’s earthly body for resurrection.  I recently stumbled upon a volume in the British Library entitled Narratives of two families exposed to The Great Plague of London with Conversations on Religious Preparation for Pestilence by John Scott (1831) who reprinted the pamphlet from some work on recommended preparations for the Great Plague because (he wrote in the introduction) it provided him and his family with many hours of pleasure. In it was discussion on how one might prepare the soul and body for the plague (which was interpreted as being the final judgement or rapture).  The brother and sister in the second narrative locked themselves up in a closet every Tuesday and Friday, and kept both days as solemn fasts, ‘neither eating nor drinking till about four o’clock in the afternoon… [they humbled themselves before God] with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning.’ (Scott 1831, 114)  Abstaining from ‘degenerat[ing] into Flesh and Sense’, as Stanhope (1694, 23) puts it in one of his sermons, is one reason given for this behaviour.  Perhaps Karl Olav Sandnes, in his Belly and Body in the Pauline Epistles, can provide some context for this belief:

Paul’s critique of belly-worship is [...] rooted in his belief that life must be led in a way which is appropriate to the future destiny of the body.  Believers are therefore expected to live with a view towards the resurrection of their body. [...]. A life without the hope of resurrection is marked by eating and drinking, characteristics of earthly existence.  Faith in the future resurrection of the body makes the difference; true believers make use of their stomach according to this firm hope.  [...].  Heavenly identity or resurrection-faith is assessed by food and drinking habits. (Sandnes 2002, 186)

An early Christian writer from the late second and early third centuries, Tertullian (c160 – c220), has yet another interpretation.  In De Ieiunio, he states that ‘the Devil tempts by means of food, so Jesus fasted in order to show the Devil that “the new man” is too strong for the power of hunger.’ (8:2, quoted in Grimm 1996, 131).  That this is also how one should behave is implied and confirmed in another piece of his writing, De Resurrectione Carnis, where he states that ‘fasting, deferred and meagre food, and the squalor which accompanies this observance’ pleases God (printed with commentary in Evans 1960, 25) Preparing for the resurrection by fasting does not seem to be a physical requirement, merely one showing faith, yet is another facet derived from Paul’s words that involves food.

To convey his understanding of the relationship between the body and food, Hodgson uses a peculiar metaphor that I think might be attractive to the LitSciMed crowd: an ‘aerial machine’ that is ‘only two-thirds inflated, [...] in a state of partial collapse, from the want of gas.  Thus it is with the body, from the want of nourishment’. (Hodgeson 1853, 41-42) The natural body may flag and alter its dimensions with its intake of food and general development but it is able to be inflated again in the resurrection, whatever contours it ends up having in corruption.

So… that’s about the half of it.  In a few days I will post about food and the dead body!

I hope that you have enjoyed this little post and my attempt to make it bite-sized and I will look forward to seeing the majority of you here in London at Event 2!

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List of Works Cited:

Aquinas, Thomas (1923), Summa contra Gentiles, Trans. Fathers of the English Dominican Province, London: Burns Oates & Washbourne ltd

Bynum, Caroline Walker (1995), The Resurrection of the Body in Western Christianity, 200-1336, New York: Columbia University Press.

Douglas, Mary (1966), Purity and Danger, London: Routledge

Evans, Ernst (1960), Tertullian’s Treatise on the Resurrection, London: SPCK

Graham, James (1783), A Discourse Delivered on Sunday, August 17th 1783 at Edinburgh, wherein the nature, and manner of the Resurrection of the human Body, and the immortality, or future modes of existence, and progress of the Soul! Are Philosophically, Medically, and Religiously explained, by Doctor James Graham of the Temple of Health, In Pall-Mall, near the King’s Palace, London, Hull: T. Briggs.

Grimm, Veronika E. (1996), From Feasting to Fasting, the Evolution of a Sin, London: Routledge

Hodgson, George (1853), The Human Body at the Resurrection of the Dead, London: R.Boyd

Layman, A (1851), Lecture on the Resurrection of the Body; compiled from the Writings of Paul, Dick, Hall and others, Albany: Joel Munsell

Martin, Dale B (1995), The Corinthian Body, New Haven: Yale University Press)

Neyrey, Jerome H (1990), Paul in Other Words, Westminster: John Knox Press

Sandnes, Karl Olav (2002), Belly and Body in the Pauline Epistles, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press

Scott, John (1831), Narratives of two families exposed to The Great Plague of London with conversations on religious preparation for pestilence, Privately Printed.

Stanhope, George (1693), A Sermon Preached at Whitehall, Private Collection, London: Doctor Williams’ Library

Vine, W.E. (1951), 1 Corinthians, London: Oliphants Limited

Coming to Resurrection and Notes on Teeth

Tuesday, January 26th, 2010

Dear Cohort,

I’m guilty of not contributing to my blog as much as I would have liked to over the past few days.

You see, at the Consortium (that suspiciously-named academic organisation that, by name at least, seems to be masquerading as a group of oil magnates) we have started our new course on St. Paul and it’s been causing me no end of trouble and worry.  You see, I’m not a religious person and know practically nothing, I’ve come to realise, about one of the bedrocks of my own culture.  I’ve been busy, therefore, reading up on it and misunderstanding everything about Christianity and then having the already shaky ground collapse under my misunderstood perceptions when I realise that there are thousands of interpretations on the tiniest parts of everything I’m reading and each of those parts have translations which change the meaning of everything again.  There’s no end to the complexity of Theology, it seems.  The whole thing is a mess for me and I don’t possess a level of scholarship to enable me to engage with something I know nothing about.  The class is moving on very quickly due to the over-representation of American and Canadian Jews who seem to have come into their element in discussing circumcision.  I’m left behind.  Flagging.

At any rate, as part of our Ph.D., we Consortiumites must write an essay on each of these courses and my St Paul one has been troubling me.  I’ve decided to write an essay on resurrection and St. Paul.  I would have had to have written about resurrection at some point since that debate is central to anything to do with the body, I would have thought (though I’m not surprised to see it omitted from every history of transplant I’ve ever come across!).  I have to focus on St. Paul because of the course’s focus but I hope I can make some headway with that part of my Ph.D. by thinking about differences in how the body is viewed.  I’m thinking of comparing two sermons to highlight differences in interpretation in Pauline ideas on the body and resurrection.  I have to run this by the course tutor and, perhaps, my supervisor but it seems as though it’s a goer.

So ‘teeth’ have been pushed to the side, somewhat, though I’ve made some headway still.

I spent too much time already looking for medical references.  Medical references to the process of tooth transplantation seems to be lacking and I have exhausted everything in the Wellcome Collection that is immediately forthcoming and all the knowledge and expertise of those in charge of the library and museum at the British Dental Association.  They were fantastic, by the way, and at one point I had three of them running around looking for things for me.  There was only me in the entire museum.  It is a saving grace, therefore, that I am studying the poetics so I can look into literature and rhetoric and only lift off from the medical procedures or even fantasies.  In the medical examples I have found, I have noticed that there was not only human-to-human transplantation but Charles Allen mentions ‘brute’-to-human transplantation.  He suggests a method of detaining a ‘brute’ such as a baboon, sheep, or dog and making a live transplant.  I think I may read into this quite a bit, although I’ve only seen it suggested in Allen’s text.  Even this suggestion that this may have happened (and no doubt quickly failed!) brings into purview fantasies about tooth transplantations, where certain qualities take root.  Take, for example, werewolves and vampires where it is not difficult to see how one might think of a human with animal teeth taking on some of its brutish characteristics.

Then there is the whole world of folk lore concerned with teeth.  In Bavaria, if one has tooth ache, one must go to the church yard at midnight and bite the bones of a dead man.  In another location, you were meant to rub your tooth with a nail which is then hammered it into a tree.  And in quite a few locations (mostly Germanic) a child puts its baby tooth into a mouse hole and asks the mouse to bring a ’stronger’ one.   These examples may not appear to be about transplant but they are about how qualities are absorbed by or from the teeth: the pain is meant to travel to the bone or the tree, and the strength of the mouse’s tooth (which, after all, must be strong having made the mouse hole in the first place) is supposed to somehow rub off on the new child’s tooth.  This is a transplantation of qualities in the absence of physical transplantation.  I am certain of the validity of this link to transplantation, as the absorption of qualities was one of the things that come to define transplantation, though I must work on expanding the argument for it.

If anyone has any tooth stories or any ideas have been sparked, please let me know! :)

I’m going to write on resurrection and teeth (separately) in the coming weeks, hopefully returning to my referenced pseudo-essay style.  I hope it gives some pleasure!