think about a very objective substance, ever present to our senses--our
body. A man may deny point blank the existence of his soul--using the
word in its ordinary acceptation--he cannot say, "I have not got a
body." Even if he should conceive of that body as a mere bundle of
ideas, an accumulation of sensations, yet there it is, making itself
felt in countless ways.

So intimately bound up is it with every part of our life, apparently so
infinitely the most real part of us, that we often think of it as being
our true self. Yet every cell and fibre of it changes in the course of
seven years. Therefore in itself it cannot maintain our identity. Have
you ever pinched your nail, right down at its base, and watched the dark
mass of congealed blood making its way to the tip of the finger, and
then dispersing? This gives you some idea of the pace at which the body
is being burned up and renewed.

All the while the personal "I" remains, deep-seated in the
self-conscious intellect, memory, will.

Of course the body plays an immensely important part in the complex
story of our existence. It is the machine by which the personal self
acts, speaks, loves, hates, chooses, refuses; therefore we can neither
ignore it nor despise it.

The popular notion concerning religion is that it is meant only for the
salvation of the soul. If this were so, then the coming of the Holy
Ghost would have sufficed for all needs.

One manifest purpose of the Incarnation was to give to the body the
possibility of holiness here, resurrection hereafter.