Have you ever picked up John Paul II’s writings and slogged through them? Maybe you dipped your toe into his “theology of the body” but put it down in frustration. Be of good cheer! By understanding the ABCs of John Paul II, you’ll have a better chance of deciphering his new language and concepts. In time, maybe you’ll be explaining the theology of the body to others.

 A = ALL

A – It ALL begins with “gift.” God created the world as gift. He created man and woman as gift. We are called to become gift. Why? Because God is Gift. The inner life of God, according to John Paul II, is self-giving love: The Father pours himself out in Gift to the Son, the Son pours himself out in Gift to the Father, and the Holy Spirit bursts forth as the fruit of their self-giving love.

In John Paul II’s writings, “gift” is everywhere. In fact, his favorite passage from Vatican II contains the word “gift”: “Man, who is the only creature on earth which God willed for himself, cannot fully find himself except through a sincere gift of self.” (Gaudium et Spes, No. 24). If John Paul II hadn’t been elected pope, this passage would have gone unnoticed. Instead, the he incorporated No. 24 into almost every apostolic letter and encyclical.

So how are we to understand “sincere gift of self”? By going back to the Trinity and using God as our model. We are called to make a sincere gift of self in the same way as the Father and Son – in a way that is total, complete, and bursts forth in fruitfulness. When speaking about how we image God in the world, the John Paul II says: “To say that man is created in the image and likeness of God means that man is called to exist ‘for’ others, to become a gift.” (On the Dignity and Vocation of Women, No. 7)  When he describes a woman’s vocation to motherhood, he says: “Motherhood is linked to the personal structure of the woman and to the personal dimension of the gift.” (On the Dignity and Vocation of Women, No. 18)

“Gift,” in John Paul II’s writings, is the master key. It unlocks the rest of his thought.

 B = Body

While ALL of John Paul II’s thinking begins with gift, this gift is expressed through the BODY. For John Paul II, the body is sacramental – it is a visible expression of an invisible reality. We would never dream of saying, “Let’s do away with the bread and wine so that we can receive Jesus directly.” So, too, we can never say, “Let’s do away with the body so we can image God directly.” It doesn’t work that way.

Here’s how John Paul II says it: “The body…and it alone is capable of making visible what is invisible: the spiritual and the divine. It has been created to transfer into the visible reality of the world the mystery hidden from eternity in God, and thus to be a sign of it.” (Theology of the Body, Audience 19:4, Feb. 20, 1980)

What’s the mystery hidden in God? The self-giving love of the Trinity. We can’t see the Father loving the Son nor can we see the Holy Spirit bursting forth as the fruit of their self-giving love. But we can see the human body, the male and female body.

For John Paul II, gender is not accidental. Gender is purposeful. It teaches us about the mystery of God.

How? When Adam is created, he finds himself alone. He can’t make a gift of self to a cheetah, lady bug, or anteater in a way that fulfills the meaning of his existence. So God creates Eve from Adam’s side. Genesis shows us that male and female are from the same body. They share the same nature. This is why Adam exults: “At last, bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh!” (Gen 2:23)

But because this one nature is em-bodied in two ways, a new possibility exists – the possibility of union. This is precisely what the next verse tells us: “Therefore a man shall leave his father and mother and cling to his wife and the two shall become one flesh.” (Genesis 2:24) The body is not just a collection of atoms and molecules that provides a pumping heart and the mechanics for Tiger Woods to shoot 10 under par. The body is made for union.

And that brings us to John Paul II’s most original and misunderstood term: the spousal meaning of the body. Simply put, “spousal meaning of the body” means “the body is made for union.” We are made for union through a sincere gift of self. But who is that union with?

C = Communion

The answer is “C” – COMMUNION. The gift of self through the body is always directed toward union and communion – with God, others, and even creation. This is the way it was “in the beginning,” before original sin, and the way it should be for us. John Paul II says: “Communion of Persons means living in a reciprocal ‘for,’ in a relationship of reciprocal gift.” (Theology of the Body, Audience 9:2, Jan. 9, 1980). In other words, we image God not so much when we conquer the world alone, but when we are in communion.

While these words may seem self-evident, we shouldn’t fly by them too quickly. We live in an individualistic society. The Olympic measuring rod for personhood is self-sufficiency and self-reliant. We win the gold and everyone else’s applause if we can do it on our own.

That’s not John Paul II’s mindset, nor the Catholic one. The new revelation about God in the New Testament was that God was no longer just One (solitary) but Three – a Trinity. God is a communion of persons. We, as human beings, are not just one (Adam, solitary) but two and so we can live a communion of persons in imitation of the Trinity.

Note that John Paul II doesn’t say marriage, sexual intercourse, or romance creates the communion of persons. He says it is mutual self-giving. The gift of self for the communion of persons is meant to be nuptial (for the purpose of union) but this is different from being sexual. The fruitfulness of our self-giving may be procreative, as in marriage, or spiritual as in friend to friend or parent to child. Marriage is indeed designed by God to be a fruitful communion of persons but so is the family, neighborhood, work place, and Church. In each of these contexts, we are called to live in the image of the Trinity.

How does all this apply to the theology of the body? “Theology of the body” simply means “the body reveals God.” When we live in the image of the Trinity through a sincere gift of self, we are revealing God. And that’s what John Paul II”s ABCs are all about: It ALL begins with Gift through the BODY for the COMMUNION of persons.

(Originally published in Our Sunday Visitor, under the title of “The Pope’s Body Language.”)

The music ended and a warm, melted chocolate feeling flowed through my body. I remained in my dance partner’s arms, savoring the moment. I could feel my thoughts drift toward the ozone – how nice to be in his arms, how safe, how romantic…

Time out!!! Get a grip on reality, I told myself. You know this man off the dance floor. You know he’s arrogant, self-centered, and never listens to you but only talks about himself. How can you even consider being romantic with him?

Having crashed into reality, I thanked my partner and walked off the dance floor. I had just experienced one of the most important events of my adult life: the difference between intimacy and romance.

Before this experience, I never considered the difference between intimacy and romance. As a woman, I am wired a particular way: If I feel close to a man, I interpret this as a green light to race into romance, or at least start walking quickly in that direction.   After this dance-floor experience, I realized that feeling close to a man wasn’t an indicator of romance but of intimacy.

Over the past five years, I’ve had ample opportunity to reflect – and put into practice – this difference between intimacy and romance. Intimacy is the experience of closeness, of feeling warm and accepted in another’s presence. Intimacy emerges from vulnerability – we take off the masks and allow someone into our personal and emotional space. This creates a bond, and that bond we experience as intimacy.

One of the key distinctions between intimacy and romance is exclusivity. It’s possible to be intimate with many people, but romantic with only one. Why do I say this? Because I’ve seen it in my own life. I am blessed with a dozen extremely deep and personal friendships. With each one, there is an emotional connection born of time, self-disclosure, and shared joys and sorrows. I am emotionally nourished by them and they by me. I light up in their presence. They are indelibly embedded in my heart. One, however, does not exclude the other. A “we” is not formed that prevents the formation of other intimate alliances.

I thought the “exclusive” distinction between intimacy and romance was self-evident until speaking on men, women, and romance in San Diego in December of 2002. After the talk, a fortyish looking man asked to speak to me. He graciously explained that as a man, he heard the word intimacy very differently. For him, intimacy evoked images of intimate apparel, Victoria’s Secret, and physical contact. To hear me say that we can be intimate with many and romantic with only one sent shock waves through his masculine system. It was the equivalent of endorsing fornication and adultery!

Humbled, I listened intently to his description of a relationship continuum that he and some friends devised. They described a relationship developing from friendship to close friendship to romance to intimacy. Intimacy was on the other side of romance and therefore was the exclusive component of the relationship.

His comments sent me back to my cave to think, and think some more. Maybe it’s not only romance and intimacy that need to be distinguished, but different kinds of intimacy. The intimacy I was describing as belonging to many was emotional intimacy. The intimacy the fortyish man was describing was physical intimacy. Perhaps the relationship continuum needed to include both: friendship, close friendship, emotional intimacy, romance, marriage, physical intimacy. Romance would then be the bridge between emotional intimacy and physical (i.e., marital) intimacy. Emotional intimacy could remain inclusive and physical intimacy exclusive.

Intoxicated by this insight, I tried it out on my first available victim: a male friend who picked me up from the airport. Yes, yes, I was right, he said, that men equated intimacy with the sexual dimension of the relationship. But emotional intimacy? Men squirm at the thought of saying they are emotionally intimate with each other. It carries feminine and even homosexual overtones. Brotherhood was a better (i.e., safer) word he informed me. He described the relationship continuum as acquaintance, friendship, and brotherhood.

I was making progress. Perhaps there needed to be two relationship continuums – one with female language (emotional intimacy) and one with male language (brotherhood).   I had one last test case: My 14-year-old son.

After listening to my five-minute recap, he said to me: “In 50 words or less, how would you describe the difference?” Ouch! The long-winded speaker in me was reined in by unadulterated youth. I couldn’t answer then, but back to my cave I went and thought not just about intimacy with the same gender, but intimacy with the opposite gender. Why do men and women have such a hard time engaging in close friendship and emotional intimacy without tumbling into romance and physical contact?

I think Catholic speaker Mary Beth Bonacci hits the nail on the head. She says male attention feels like love. Women race from emotional intimacy (or flattery!) to romance because male attention feels like love. It makes women feel special, chosen, selected from the crowd. It satisfies a deep, gnawing craving; it fills an interiorly empty space.

Spurred by my son’s challenge of brevity and these new thoughts, I gave emotional intimacy a new definition for women: Being able to receive male attention without demanding that it be exclusive.   My hunch is that the male counterpart would go something like this: Being able to receive feminine attention without fantasizing about the physical relationship.

It may seem like a lot of mental gymnastics to arrive at this point, but I think it’s critical. Many single people think they’re dying because they don’t have romance. I think they’re dying because they don’t have emotional intimacy. Many married people have access to physical intimacy, but their relationship is sinking because they’ve neglected emotional intimacy and romance. Other people engage in physical intimacy without recognizing its exclusive (i.e., lifelong and marital) dimension and therefore leave a wake of regret and destruction in their path.

Intimacy and romance are tremendous gifts from an intimate and romantic God. Knowing the difference between the two can free us to encounter the other gender deeply, personally, emotionally, and spiritually. And ultimately that’s what the human heart longs for.

(Originally appeared in Our Sunday Visitor, Feb. 10, 2002.]