Like many of you, I woke Saturday morning wondering what new chaos was in my future, after two days of soul-challenging news from financial markets in reaction to the President’s arrogant, irresponsible, and incredibly misguided tariff gambit. I call it a gambit, because I still cannot wrap my head around how he and his acolytes can consider this an actual strategy for re-ordering the American economy. The only rationale is that he is implementing an economic version of “The Madman Theory”, and that he’s expecting the world to back down. Thought about like this, it is not rational, but it is explicable.
As I sat in bed staring out at the river, I thought about what the country was most in need of, something I’ve talked and written about in the past, and that is a bit of a revival. A religious revival to be exact. We have so thoroughly atomized from each other that we have withdrawn from God. It shows in how we treat each other, it shows in how we treat strangers, it shows in who we choose to lead us, it shows in how we choose to spend our time. The darkness in every human heart has been given license and legitimacy, networked effectively by both breathtaking technology and a man who is not interested in solving our problems or bringing us together, but in blaming and scapegoating in persistent acts of group victimhood assertion. This is human free will in action, and while we as a people can in fact pursue these ends, we can also choose another path.
As I thought about these things, I was of course meandering around on my tablet, as I demonstrated a distinct inability to focus, and I came across an email from The Free Press, a site that has grown in prominence in my daily scans. The email advertised content that caught my eye, in a piece entitled “Hallowed Be Thy App” (quite likely subscription only, for which I apologize). A man with the unfortunate name of “Alex Jones” has created what strikes me as a portal through which an online generation can rediscover first things. The story itself was replete with testimony from users who came to God at key moments through the app (called “Hallow”), and while they provide the reader with a sense of how it impacted them, I was more interested in the thought process that led Jones to develop the site. I was interested because I was immediately skeptical of a modality that was dependent upon the very technology that was aiding our distance from God. Here’s how that question was answered:
James Majewski, the director of customer relations for Catholic Culture, said: “I think that there's a certain irony in the kind of marketing that I’ve seen surrounding Hallow—that it’s simultaneously calling people to prayer and then also showing, you know, like a giant picture of an iPhone.
“For me, cultivating real interior silence, and a real sort of encounter with God, has to take the form of turning away from these devices and from these distractions, from the internet,” he said.
But Jones argues that Catholicism, if it is to help, needs to meet these people where they are. “We are trying to reach out to the folks who are in really tough places,” he said. “Where are they spending their time? The answer is, fortunately or not: They’re spending their time online, on Instagram and TikTok and social media, and so we have to reach out to them there.”
Hallow can offer a form of togetherness. It has a “community” function which allows users to start prayer campaigns, invite others to pray for a cause, and leave one another “notes of support.” Over 800 people are currently praying for one man’s campaign for his 23-year-old daughter who is in a coma, battling brain cancer.
But Jones emphasizes that Hallow is not being used as a substitute for church: He said the app typically sees a spike of activity on Monday through Wednesday, and a drop later in the week, with Sunday as the lowest day. This, to him, is as it should be.
My curiosity piqued, I decided to download it. I am still evaluating its worth and utility to me, but so far I’m finding meaning in it. I was raised Catholic but attend Episcopal services these days, not out of any distance from The One True Faith (what I call Catholicism to spin Catherine up now and then) but because it is the faith of Catherine and the girls. Much of what I come across on the site is familiar to me, and in that familiarity there is comfort.
I have no more insight into the purposes of God than anyone reading this essay; to think otherwise is pride in biblical proportions. I can however, THINK about God’s purposes and wonder if what we are facing is not part of a larger design to bring us together, and in that togetherness, closer to Him.
I can certainly hope this.
April
Like the orchestra on the Titanic, we must play on in the face of our travails, and to that end, I am undertaking a great tour of Moorish Iberia in the weeks ahead, to be capped off by celebrating a good friend’s 60th Birthday in grand style. The miracle of the interwebs will provide me with the ability to work and play as required, but the screwing around I do online (to include this Substack) will likely be squeezed out, and so I will not be held responsible for regular Monday morning offerings. The best I can do is to let you know that I will have my tablet and trusty keyboard, with a couple of train rides and bus rides available for potential travel diary posts. Many of you seem to like those things better than my Navy or political rants anyway, so we’ll all have that to look forward to.
Be well.