If Only

Oh look, the blogging link still works! That’s a relief. Sorry I’ve been so scarce. I’ve been writing articles in a mad, desperate dash while the children finish up their finals. The method of this madness is the glittering, probably utopic dream that if we actually do the mountain of work that always sits there, instead of just sifting through the rubble and sand, in a week and a half we can go on the kind of holiday that doesn’t include me lugging along my computer for any reason. Of course, whenever you try to do a lot of work, other work you hadn’t anticipated obtrudes itself into the screen and then you feel like you’re going to die. Not actually die, hopefully, but just feel like it. So I did miss a lot of terrible news (that’s a relief) and don’t want to go back and comment on it because better things are being written by other people But a wonderful person did send me this wonderful thing, which surely explains why everything in the world is so terrible. The people who invented SoulCycle have decided to help the world even more:

“Introducing relational fitness,” Peoplehood proclaims on its minimalist website, “an entirely new concept with one goal: to help you feel better.” This wellness venture, the company promises, will be “a place to grow personally, together.” It offers (slightly) more detail on its Instagram: “Peoplehood is the spiritual practice of connected conversation. Our Gathers are 55 minute group conversation experiences led by trained Guides in our digital sanctuary.” A New York Times reporter testing out a Peoplehood course (the venture is still in beta) described the “gather” as a session in which “strangers discuss their deepest hopes and fears” and engage in breathing exercises and light stretches.

If you go to the link and then click on other links, you land on an Instagram pic that says, “The problem isn’t you, it’s just life.” I’m glad they see there’s a problem. Small mercies I guess. So why sign up for these “Gathers?” The Washington Post hits the nail on the head:

The key is in the language: guided spirituality in a sanctuary. Peoplehood introduces itself as a new kind of exercise. But if you look more closely, it’s clear that what’s being sold is church.

You know, I come here day after day, begging people to go to church, and then two super fit blonds show up and decide to charge money and the whole world thinks something clever has been invented. Maybe we should start renting out pews again:

So in strides Peoplehood — ready to tap into a market. “We realized that connection should be its own product,” one of its founders told the Times. “We are modern medicine for the loneliness epidemic.”

How did they “realize” that? Did they search around in their cupboards and discover they were bare and that everyone is tired of exercising and eating properly and so now they need to invent some other scam? I mean, there sure is a loneliness epidemic. That is a truism. But can “modern medicine” fix it? Or an app? That seems like a stretch (cough). I agree with WaPo’s conclusion:

And in a worst-case scenario, the “scaling” and “growth” of a for-profit venture based on deep insecurities will depend on seeding more of them. The ability to sell connection, after all, depends on making it scarce. For all its trendy branding, Peoplehood’s commoditized church is merely religion in an impoverished, attenuated form. If it succeeds? It’ll only confirm the depth of our collective desperation.

Gosh, if only there were some actual physical place where people could “gather” in person. If only there were actually some transcendent…what’s that called? Oh yeah! G O D. The real one who made the heavens and the earth and all that is therein. The real triune one–Father, Son, and Holy Spirit who pour themselves out endlessly in love for each other and then, get this, by the power and mystery of the Incarnation, the death, resurrection, and ascension of the Son and the indwelling of the Holy Spirit, draw the Church–or “gathering” if you like that sort of vague and stupid word–up into reconciliation with the Father so that no one never ever has to be alone again. If only!

Sure, you would have to admit that the problem is you, and accept that ancient remedy of the divinely bought forgiveness and reconciliation of the cross. You would have to say sorry for the things you’ve actually done wrong, which would be, you know, “hard.” You would have to trust, not yourself, not an app, not a stupid new charlatan, not a snake-oil company, not a power, but a Person–Jesus who loves you and who would save your soul and body forever if you would only turn to him. That Person would give you the strength to do those hard things, like die to yourself and all your wrong desires. But he wouldn’t make you do it by yourself. Instead, he would join you together with other people who are also struggling along and nourish you with his own body and blood. I dunno, for me there’s no contest.

Hope to see you tomorrow!

Photo by Drew Murphy on Unsplash