Yoga, Redeeming Satan, and the Desire to Be Desired

Weekly Notes

Happy Friday, Friends.

I am still catching up from my time at home during my dad’s illness and passing (and probably will be for a long time), but I am going to resume the weekly Q&A’s, starting today. What I am not going to resume just now, however, is my study on Pope Benedict XVI’s encyclicals. I promise we will eventually get to the last encyclical, Caritas in Vertitate (“Charity in Truth”), but as I announced on Instagram, between my dad’s death, being behind on everything in life, and a significant change in my babysitting help (I’m only going to have four hours, instead of twelve hours, of help a week for the next month), I need to let something temporarily go for the sake of my sanity. I hope you understand.

Also, just a reminder, if you have been thinking and praying about joining my family in Italy next summer, don’t think and pray too much longer. We have just four spots left now, and if you really want one of those spots, I don’t want you to miss out.

Last but not least, thank you for taking the time during your busy week to read my words. Thank you especially to those of you who are full subscribers. In an online world that rewards soundbites, click bait, and vitriol, you are helping me do something different—help people grow in their faith through writing that (I hope) is always as thoughtful, compassionate, and charitable, as it is faithful. If you’re not yet a full subscriber, but want to be a part of this work, please consider sharing this newsletter with others and upgrading your subscription today.

Question Box

What are your thoughts on yoga? Can Catholics participate in a yoga class?

This is a question I get every time I do a Q&A. I think four people asked some version of it in last week’s Instagram question box alone. I’ve dodged answering it thus far because there is no easy answer. It’s complicated. And nuanced. And really my own personal opinion. Which I try not to give too often here. But everyone else seems to be giving their opinions on the issue, so I guess I might as well give mine.

And please note: What I am about to write truly is my opinion. Just as almost every other thing you read circulating on the Catholic interwebs about yoga is an opinion. This is because there is no formal Church teaching on yoga. There are documents on the New Age Movement and Eastern forms of meditation which mention it in a cursory fashion, but there is no official Vatican statement prohibiting or endorsing yoga.

This does not mean, however, that anything goes, and that it’s just as fine for you to do yoga as not do yoga. In lots of cases, it’s not fine at all, despite the lack of Church documents.

Traditionally, yoga is a spiritual discipline, which combines meditation and breathing exercises with bodily movements in order achieve a kind of enlightenment. The spirituality underlying yoga is rooted in pantheism, which denies that there is one God who created the world out of nothing. In the context of Hinduism, yoga is believed to be one of the means by which an individual comes to realize the pantheistic nature of the universe and, through that realization, is united to it, with their individual consciousness absorbed into a higher universal consciousness. The movements themselves, within the context of yoga, invoke different Hindu “gods” and “goddesses,” such as the three-part Warrior pose, which invokes the god Virabhadra, and imitates his murder of another “god’s” father-in-law.

If you are doing yoga for this purpose—to unite your consciousness to some nebulous universal consciousness or to invoke some kind of spiritual power—you should not be doing it. Nor should you be attending a class where that is being taught, encouraged, and facilitated.

The Church teaches, clearly and repeatedly, that Catholics are not allowed to worship false gods. Two thousand years ago, martyrs were made because the first Christians would not burn incense before idols. If someone did that, they were considered apostates who had automatically excommunicated themselves from the Church. Today, any Catholic who participates in yoga as a spiritual discipline, chasing enlightenment or seeking to annihilate their own consciousness by means of meditation and physical poses, would also be guilty of idolatry. They would be doing the same thing as the early Christians who burned incense before an image of Zeus. And that’s bad. The Church doesn’t need to write a new encyclical telling us this because she has been teaching it for two millennia.

But what about if you have no intention of uniting your consciousness to the universal hive mind? What if you just want to do some stretches that help your back feel better? What does the Church say about that?

Nothing directly, which is why you will find so many different opinions on this. Some good, faithful, intelligent Catholics say attending a yoga class for exercise is fine; it’s your intentions that matter, and as long as you are just stretching, it’s no big deal what exercises you do or where you do them. Other good, faithful, intelligent Catholics say that simply doing the movements, let alone doing them in a class where everyone is chanting “Ohm” and burning incense before a Buddha statue, is enough to get you possessed by a demon. Then, there are those who claim it’s possible to Christianize yoga and who offer classes like Holy Yoga, which use Eastern methods to worship the Christian God.

As for me, I am of the mind that doing a yoga stretch or two is not going to damn you to hell, but in general, it’s wiser and more charitable to not attend yoga classes or “do yoga,” even on your own.

I don’t know if you can pick up demons or not in a yoga class at your local LA Fitness. But, having actually gone to more than a few yoga classes at one point in my life, I do know you can pick up some weird, un-Christian, gnostic ideas, that slowly worm their way into your brain without you even realizing it. I also know that the more yoga you do and the more it becomes part of your life, the greater the chances are of you adopting bits and pieces of its underlying (and deeply flawed) spirituality.

Moreover, even if you don’t stumble by going to a yoga class, even if you have a doctorate in sacred theology and remain completely unaffected by its problematic spirituality, your participation in yoga might cause problems for someone else. This is why with one breath, Saint Paul, in 1 Corinthians 8:4, tells Christians they can eat meat that’s been sacrificed to idols because “an idol has no real existence,” and “there is no God but one,” then, in the next breath, tells them to refrain from eating that same meat, for the sake of their weaker brothers. Paul’s concern is for those weaker brothers, who might be scandalized or tempted to fall back into idol worship because of what they see the stronger brother doing.

Yoga, I think, is a lot like this. It’s so popular and so synchronistic, with American and European yoga teachers mixing into their classes all kinds of Eastern spirituality, pop psychology, and New Age weirdness, that the average not-so-well-formed Christian is going to have a hard time keeping it all straight. There is a real danger for most people who go to yoga classes of adopting ideas that undermine their understanding of the Faith and damage their practice of it. And when someone who does know their faith goes to yoga classes and talks about doing yoga and acts like it’s no big deal, that can indeed encourage someone else to go to yoga class and become prey for some very damaging ideas.

Calling yoga “Christian” or running a “Holy Yoga” class can do something similar. It can communicate to people who don’t know better—including some of the teachers, who are not well formed in their faith—that the spiritual disciplines of yoga are fine and compatible with Christianity. Which they are not. It can also encourage people to attend other yoga classes, which are much more blatantly problematic.

Now, if your doctor gives you some stretches to do for your hips, and you later find out those stretches are used in a yoga class, do I think you need to refrain from doing them? No. I know some people think otherwise, but I don’t see how movement themselves can be problematic. The body can only move so many ways, and you’ll find movements that mirror certain yoga poses being used by gymnasts, dancers, Pilates devotees, and small children. My babies all, instinctively, have done Downward Dog from the time they could stand. They are not worshipping a demon. They’re just stretching as babies do.

Intent matters. But, then again, so does context. And doing those same poses in the context of a yoga class, where you may be giving scandal, causing another to stumble, or just being present where all sorts of weird spiritual stuff is going on all around you, often unseen by the human eye, is probably borrowing more trouble than you need in your life.

Again, all this (besides “don’t worship idols,” and “don’t fall prey to New Age weirdness”) is my opinion. The Church has given us precious little guidance on this, so I encourage you to do your own research and think long and hard about it. But, for my part, in a world where there is Pilates and Pieta Fitness and Soulcore, I just don’t see any compelling reason to do yoga. The physical benefits can be found elsewhere. And the spiritual dangers—especially for those who I might lead astray—are more than I want to risk. It’s just not worth it to me.

What was the book you recommended for someone with a fear of death?

My guess is you are thinking of the book I wrote with Scott Hahn back in 2020, Hope to Die: The Christian Meaning of Death and the Resurrection of the Body. It’s not specifically about overcoming a fear of death; it’s about how the Church understands death, where that understanding comes from, what the Church believes about the resurrection of the body, and how those beliefs shape the way she prefers us to honor the bodies of the departed (i.e. through burial, as opposed to cremation). But, as Scott and I explore those ideas, we do work to paint a picture of what death is and what our lives will be like in the world. By doing that, we hoped the book could help Christians face death with courage and joy. I’m praying it does!

Can Satan be redeemed? Is that what we should want?

The short answer is no, Satan cannot be redeemed. Nor can any of the angels who fell with him. Unlike men and women, who can fall and repent throughout the entire course of our earthly lives, the fallen angels cannot repent of their evil choice. Their choice, as the Catechism of the Catholic Church says, is “irrevocable,” and “definitive” (393, 414). So too is the choice of the angels who did not join with Satan—those who surround God’s throne in Heaven and help us on earth. They can never and will never reject God.

None of this is because God lacks mercy or justice. He does not. Nor is it because He has deprived the angels of their free will. He has not. Rather, it’s because angels are not men.

As human beings, everything we know, we know through our senses—through what we see, hear, read, touch, and smell. But that knowledge is never perfect. Nor is our judgement. It’s always limited by our moods, emotions, pasts, biases, hormones, bodies, time, space, and fallen human nature. This is why we change our minds. As time passes, we acquire new and different knowledge, which causes us to think and feel differently about things. But even those different thoughts and feelings can be wrong. For this reason, God gives us every possible chance to choose Him. His plan for our salvation works with our fallible judgement and fallen human nature.

Angels, however, are not like us. They are pure spirits, so their knowledge is not limited like ours is—not by time, space, the material world, or, at the time of their choosing, a corrupted nature. From the first moment of their creation, angels had full knowledge and full freedom. They knew in an instant what we don’t even know after a lifetime. So, when they fell, they fell with full knowledge and full freedom—knowing exactly who God was, what His plan was, and what their role in that plan was supposed to be. They could never know more or think differently than they could at the moment they made their choice. No new knowledge could ever come along that would cause them to change their minds. Satan and his companions knew exactly what they were doing when they rejected God. And they did it anyhow. Since that moment their choice has been as irrevocable as ours will be after we die. But they’re okay with that. After who knows how many millennia of damnation, they still think they made the right choice. And they always will think that. They wouldn’t have it any other way, even if given the chance. That’s not in their nature.

As for the last part of your question—should we want Satan to repent—I think we can feel sorrow for Satan. We can wish he hadn’t been such a prideful fool. So much grief and loss and horror has come into the world through his horribly stupid choice. But He doesn’t see it that way. He doesn’t regret anything. More important, God doesn’t regret anything. He saw what Satan would choose before He created Satan. And He created him anyway. He created him knowing all the evil that would come of Lucifer’s choice, but also knowing all beauty and wonder that would come of His own life-saving death and our adoption as His children. He counted the cost and considered it worth it. I know, on this side, in this life, it rarely seems that way. Sometimes the misery seems too much to ever be worth it. But the God who died for us says, “No. Trust me. This will be worth it.” So, that’s what we need to ask for the grace to do: to trust. Trust and hope. It’s either that or do what Satan did and say, “My way is better.” I don’t have perfect knowledge, but I have enough knowledge to know that’s not true. And remembering that helps.

I’m happily married, but I still want guys to think I’m attractive. Is that wrong?

First, I think you should give yourself a high five for recognizing that issue, owning it, and asking the question. This is such such a common thing for women to feel, but many of us won’t even admit that to ourselves, let alone ask if it’s wrong.

Second, it’s important to understand that it is perfectly normal to want others—men and women—to think you’re attractive. Most women want to be attractive. And this isn’t, in right measure, a bad thing. God loves beauty. He is Beauty. And He made His Creation to be beautiful. The works of His hands reflect Him. This includes us. We were made to be beautiful. We weren’t all made to look like Gal Gadot. But we were made to be beautiful, to reflect the harmony, light, and goodness of our Creator in some way. Desiring to be beautiful in the way God made us to be beautiful is a desire in accord with our human nature.

The Fall, however, has warped that desire in us. Not only has it warped our understanding of what beauty really is—narrowing it to one particular type of beauty and isolating it from the wholeness of the person—but it also has warped how the desire manifests in us. God said in Genesis that, as a result of the Fall, a woman’s desire would be for her husband. The way this plays out, however, isn’t just that we desire our husbands. We also desire to be desired—by our husbands and often by men in general.¹

Knowing this, I wouldn’t worry too much about the simple desire for others, including men, to think you’re attractive. Again, that’s normal. But I would recommend thinking through how you understand attractiveness. Do you compare yourself constantly to other women? Do you appreciate your own beauty or do you long for a different type of beauty? Do you spend an inordinate amount of time and money trying to conform to a standard that you think is beautiful? Do you understand that what truly makes you beautiful goes far beyond your physical appearance? If the answer to those questions is no, I would encourage you to spend time sitting with God, identifying why you think this way and what feeds it, and also asking Him to heal this wound in your soul.

Another thing you need to give attention to is what you do with your desire to be attractive to other men. Do you want men to just think you’re an attractive woman, or do you want them to actually be attracted to you? If so, do you dress or talk or interact with men in a way meant to stir up desire in them? Do you spend time on your appearance not for your husband, but for other men? Do you flirt, subtly or not, with anyone who isn’t your husband? If the answer is yes, then that is a problem and it’s time to have some serious talks with God about it (and probably go to Confession). Whether that kind of behavior is driven by insecurity, fear, vanity, or something else, it’s a form of infidelity, a sin against the marriage, and a failure of charity towards the men and any wives or girlfriends they might have.

I know it’s difficult for most of us to understand the true nature of beauty or stop caring about what men besides our husbands think about our appearance. It’s harder still for women whose identity and self-worth is rooted in their appearance to do that. If you think your physical beauty is what makes you valuable and that men’s response to you is what confirms that value, it’s not a simple thing to just let that go, even once you’re married. But while it may be challenging to stop rooting your identity in men’s opinion of you, it’s so freeing to rise to that challenge. There is great joy and freedom in seeing and valuing the fullness of who you are and wanting others to see and value that too. There is even more joy and freedom in rooting your identity in Christ and knowing that your greatest beauty comes from being made in His image and being loved by Him.

Keep focusing on that. Keep focusing on Him. Ask Jesus for the healing you need to be free of other people’s opinions on attractiveness. And remember that no matter what, our physical beauty will fade. It is, as Proverbs says, fleeting. But the beauty of a woman whose identity is rooted in Christ endures forever. And, in the end, that’s the only beauty that truly brings peace.

Five Things I’m Loving

1. Sergeant Stubby is a beautiful animated film that tells the true story of a soldier and his dog during World War I. I am missing the gene that makes my heart warm to animal stories, but this movie is so well done that even I have shed a tear or two while watching it. Despite its focus and setting, the movie handles the tragedy of war sensitively and delicately, in a manner appropriate for young children. It also tells the story in a way that will touch adults deeply. All my kids love it, and so do Chris and I. I think we’ve watched it a solid dozen times in the last month since we discovered it. Highest recommendation.

2. I may be late to this party, since it’s already in its sixth season, but as old house lovers, Chris and I are really loving Restored. It’s streaming on the Magnolia Network, and the host Brett Waterman, does not go around knocking down walls and painting everything white. He is not a flipper, but a true preservationist, who loves old houses as much as I do, and lovingly restores them to look the way they were always intended to look. Never have I ever wanted the design help of any tv house show host, but if our family were to buy a new old house, I would hand the restoration reigns over to this guy without even thinking about it.

3. I mentioned on Instagram that the persistent and growing anti-Catholicism in Louise Penny’s Inspector Gamache mysteries (previously mentioned here) led me to put that series down and look for another. I am currently trying out the highly recommended Maisie Dobbs mysteries by Jacqueline Winspear. I have heard rumors that they get a bit “woo woo” for a couple books, so we shall see how far I get with them. But the first book in the series was just fantastic, and woo woo or not, I am looking forward to reading more. (I snagged the first six book on Amazon for just $26, so I will at least read that many).

4. I am not a praise and worship music or contemporary Christian music fan (I have no objection to you liking it, but it is not my cup of tea). What I do love, however, are the Hillbilly Thomists. The band is comprised totally of Dominican Friars and has been a favorite of mine since their first album. Maybe someday I will get to see them live. Probably only if they ever decide they will do house concerts and I can lure them here. For now, though, I’m enjoying playing their music on repeat all day long. The old time Appalachia sound with thoroughly Catholic lyrics has been a great comfort to my grieving heart. And I am grateful for that.

5. We went apple picking last Saturday, so naturally I had to make apple crisp this week. I’ve linked my favorite (and gluten free) recipe over on my old website (which I know is horrible and unnavigable, but I’m selling a kidney this fall to pay someone to redo the site, so I promise it will get better).

In Case You Missed It

( I’m linking the print versions, but don’t forget, there is an audio version of every full subscriber essay. You can listen on your computer or the Substack app, just like a podcast.)

The Devil and All His Works: On Demons, Deliverance, and Celebrity Exorcists (Full Subscribers Only)

The Still Point of the Turning World: Finding Christ in the Fire of Suffering (Full Subscribers Only)

Saints, Drag Queens, and Strung Out Moms (Free For Everyone)

P.S. I know becoming a full subscriber might not be in your budget, right now. I get it. But if these weekly Q&A’s are helping your grow in your faith, please consider supporting my work by sharing this newsletter online or with friends and family. At this point, almost 100 percent of this newsletter’s growth is through word of mouth, so you spreading the word is a tremendous help. Thank you!

1. Of course, there are exceptions, and I’m pretty sure most saints weren’t overly concerned about this as they entered the unitive way; they were too busy loving other people and thinking about Jesus to be worried about being desired. More the opposite, if anything. But, exceptions and saints aside, this is still an absolutely common consequence of the Fall.