Granted, I don’t know much about yoga...hot or otherwise (i.e. does “hot” define the goal or the physical temperature? That’s how little I know). But I noticed the New York Times has no compunction about telling Christians what they believe, so I’m taking advantage of this “hot” new trend. Har Har. .
I recently read Richard Dawkins “The God Delusion” which scared me a little. I thought maybe it would work like a Harry Potter spell and I’d find myself magically transformed into a neo atheist de facto. It didn’t. Not that atheists aren’t lovely people with heartfelt ideology, but the book wasn’t an intellectual heavy hitter. It did however, lead down a personal rabbit hole on the existence of God, which is all a less-than-innocuous way of showing I’m cool enough to have doubts and pander around with the smart people. All of my toe dipping though lead me to a tangential realization “You are what you love”. The physical is shaped by the abstract. Humans can’t help but be liturgical beings.
We are what we love, and our love is shaped, primed, and aimed by liturgical practices that take hold of our gut and aim our heart to certain ends. So we are not primarily homo rationale or homo faber or homo economicus; we are not even generically homo religiosis. We are more concretely homo liturgicus; humans are those animals that are religious animals not because we are primarily believing animals but because we are liturgical animals—embodied, practicing creatures whose love/desire is aimed at something ultimate. (p. 40) James K.A. Smith - “Desiring The Kingdom”
Some people have CrossFit liturgy, other people have yoga liturgy, I personally have more of a messy house and laundry liturgy. Instead of reciting the Athanasian Creed or doing downward dog, I step on a lego and then hop around gesticulating wildly while speaking in tongues.
Not that there is anything wrong with Stay-At-Home mom liturgy, but thank goodness that isn’t the only liturgical process in my life. I have The Church. Not church, but the one with the big C that goes backwards in history and forward through time and will exist long past hot yoga’s expiration date. I think I failed to grasp this growing up in Calvary Chapel (which I won’t diss right now because it’s all still a part of the big “C”). I thought Christianity was more an abstract concept, and church was sort of “Weight Watchers” for Christians. In which case of course you stop going if you decide you don’t need or want to lose weight. Or you maintain that while you do want to be healthy or love Jesus, you don’t prefer to do that at Weight Watchers or church. I didn’t realize Church with the big “C” it is quite literally magic. It’s the wardrobe to Narnia. You walk through the doors and regardless where those doors are, what denomination it is or what race you are, they’re magic doors ushering you into the presence of God.
You can't escape the liturgical shaped hole in your heart. It's just a matter of what you put there.