Early in my conversion to Christianity, I heard a segment on CBC radio, here in Canada, which is basically state propaganda and mostly unlistenable today, but back then it was a much more subtle form of propaganda, the kind that made you feel like you could learn something from it. So, I enjoyed listening to it from time to time. And in this segment, they had a Catholic priest on as a guest. Now this was unusual enough because the CBC is notoriously left leaning. So if they have a Catholic priest on, it isn’t going to be to try to hear a sympathetic rendering of some conservative or traditional perspective, but rather to undermine it with the authority of that priest’s office. And that was definitely the case in this instance. Unfortunately, this was like 20 years ago so I don’t remember the name of the priest and I was so new to taking an interest in religion, that everything was just new and novel to me, but based on the topic and what I’ve come to know of him since, I’m pretty sure it was Fr. Richard Rohr, who has definitely been a guest on that show. But whoever it was, the point of the segment was to highlight this priest’s work in syncretizing non-dualism with Catholicism. And the host seemed to relish the conversation because it was so novel and foreign to her default modes of thinking, which were obviously a residue of western indoctrination. Because every time she would ask him a question or try to establish some understanding, he would steer it back to pointing out how that was dualism and we can’t make those kinds of distinctions.

And at the time, I didn’t know enough about Christianity to know what to think of this interview. I was interested because I was trying to consume all things Christianity, but on the face of it, the whole concept seemed to be self-refuting to me. He kept insisting that western ways of thinking were dualistic and that the point should be to transcend these forms of dualism. But that statement itself relies on a kind of dualism – one in which traditional western ways of thinking are wrong and non-dualistic thinking is correct. Something else I noticed when I first joined the Church was that in virtually every Catholic retreat center, at least where I live in Canada, most of the retreats on offer were either Yoga based or adjacent to Yoga type eastern spiritual practices. And these workshops and programs are almost always promoted and operated by the very few religious sisters we have left here – they’re generally older, they’ve abandoned any kind of religious habit in exchange for a pantsuit or dress suit, or maybe in this case, yoga pants. And part and parcel with yoga programs is an obsessive emphasis on ecumenism and ecumenical events – almost as if that’s their whole religion – eastern spirituality and ecumenism.

And so, every now and then, the debate about the compatibility or incompatibility between practices like Yoga and Christianity will erupt, especially online, and seemingly never get resolved. And I think a big reason for that is that a large portion of the airtime is consumed by one of two polarized responses to it. One is the ecumenical kind I just described where exotic ideas and practices are embraced wholeheartedly under the apparent exemptions of ecumenism and described as perfectly compatible with Christianity – that is until people like Richard Rohr let the mask slip on national radio and admit that “traditional western thinking is dualistic” whereas his innovative metaphysics moves beyond that, establishing a real incompatibility. The other response is the kind where orthodox Christians, perhaps out of a reasonable kind of skepticism, are a little too easily convinced that Yoga in its popular manifestations today, is nothing more than demon worship. That each pose or stretch is a form of invoking a particular demon and inviting them to make themselves at home in your body or your life in general. But that’s not true either and so making those kinds of false accusations leaves people with the impression that any objection to yoga is overblown and grounded in ignorance.

When I talk to other Christians who like Yoga or practice it themselves, they almost always fall back on the claim that yoga is just physical exercises and stretching and there’s nothing spiritual about it. But if we’re going to talk about something, we have to use our terms accurately and just because you’ve gone to a strip mall yoga class or because you buy your clothes at Lululemon, doesn’t mean you can redefine words like Yoga in such a reductionist way. Yoga, the real word related to a real concept describes a variety of practices meant to bring about a kind of metaphysical liberation called moksha. So, yoga can describe physical practices, the kind that are heavily commercialized in clothing brands and studio spaces, but it can also describe forms of meditation, forms of breathing, as well as ethical disciplines. So, again, it’s simply not true to say that yoga is just exercises. It would be like saying that cage fighting is just exercising. Sure, there’s a dimension of exercise to it, but there’s a lot more to it as well and you should probably be aware of those other aspects before you sign up for it.

At the end of the day, Yoga is not an end in itself. The aims here don’t terminate in physical fitness. The physical practices in yoga are merely a means to another end, which is Moksha or liberation from the illusions of existence. And Fr. Richard Rohr was exactly right about the incompatibility between oriental metaphysics and Western and Christian metaphysics. In the Christian tradition of faith and reason, the goal of metaphysics is to understand being and existence which, at the very least, starts with an acknowledgement that something is, something exists. And simultaneously, when something is, it can’t also not be at the same time in the same way. That’s called the law of non-contradiction and it’s the cornerstone of all western thought. Something can’t be true and false at the same time. A person can’t be both innocent or guilty of the same crime at the same time, a woman can’t be both a bachelorette and a wife at the same time. An organism can’t be both dead and alive at the same time. But oriental metaphysics, and Fr. Richard Rohr say that this is dualism and dualism is illusory as is all the experiences we have in this life. It’s all just symbols which point back to the ultimate reality which is Brahman. We are all Brahman in the end and there are no distinctions between us. And Moksha is the liberation that attains to this realization.

But Christian reason says, no there is truth and there is falsity which is why we have logic and the law of non-contradiction. There are distinct things and those distinctions are real, not illusions. And, Christian faith says there is one true God who is truth itself. And he is distinct from false gods and we are to have no other gods other than Him. The ultimate ends of man, according to Christianity is beatitude in which we apprehend God in his glory and are blessed for it and we love and worship him for all eternity. The ends of Hinduism and certain schools of Buddhism, with yoga as one of its means, is Moksha which is the liberation from all the illusions of this world and its apparent duality which is the dissolution of all ego and distinction in Brahman. In Brahman, you don’t exist and in fact, nothing other than Brahman exists and even existence itself can’t really be said to exist because that would be falling back on the false duality between existence and non-existence. Really, if we’re being honest, there’s a kind of nothingness that awaits this liberation of Moksha.

Christianity aims at a definite something, which is God, it affirms the experiences of this life as real and meaningful and consequential. It’s rational – it says that we can know truth through our experiences of reality and through our rational minds and most of all in the ways that the true God reveals himself and his purposes for us. It uses prayer, worship, sacraments, and revelation to attain to its ultimate ends of communion with God. Eastern spirituality uses yoga, among other things, to attain to its end of Brahman. And the way it uses yoga, as most people know it, is by stretching out the body and the pours, sometimes in extreme and grotesque ways, in order to open the person to altered states of mind combined with tantric breathing practices which can seem euphoric as if the illusory and dualistic world melts away and you’re just left with the existential dread of an awful overshadowing formlessness. You stare into the void and the void stares back. So that’s what Yoga is, which leaves me wondering why any Christian would adopt its practices if it’s categorically a means to an end that contradicts everything Christ taught. If you’ve adopted the conclusion that you want to achieve a certain end like the Christian one, and you discover some practice that is a means to a different and incompatible end… wouldn’t it follow that practicing that incompatible means is going to interfere with your goals. It would be like if you had a final exam tomorrow and you’ve identified getting a good grade as the end that is best. And the means to that end is going to be staying home and studying. But, there’s also a big party going on tonight and the person you have a crush on is going to be there. So, you could go to the party, but then you’d have to be admitting that you’re embracing actions that lead to a different end, either romantic love or social fulfilment. But between the two means, you’ll be realizing different ends and you can’t do both. It’s going to be one or the other.

Now you might say, OK fine, traditionally that’s what Yoga is, but that’s not how I practice it. I’m just using it for exercise and stretching. But then my question becomes, why do you call it yoga then? It would be like explicitly rejecting some kind of cultural practice as incompatible with your own beliefs and goals in life, but then renaming your own practices according to the ones you reject. Why would you do that? Like if you thinking open marriages are a bad thing because you think monogamy is the whole point of marriage… which it is by the way. But then you go around telling people you meet that you have an open marriage, by which YOU mean you and your spouse are very open to trying new things together. And then when people point out that that’s not what an “open marriage” means, you become obstinate in your idiosyncratic usage that isn’t consistent with a long-standing tradition of what that phrase means. If yoga has a massive cultural, philosophical, and religious meaning linked to a tradition that is thousands of years old and a population that is billions of people strong, then on what grounds do western people who are only superficially introduced to it have to say that they can redefine it to mean something completely different and that this will give them permission to practice it without any incoherence? If you’re that committed to using a word to describe your fitness routine, doesn’t that betray at least a fascination with alternative and exotic spiritual practices that are contrary to your own stated confession of faith? Like that’s an audacious thing to do, all so that you can lay claim to the word Yoga without having to reconcile its incompatibilities with your own religious tradition.

That just strikes me as a kind of western tourist mentality where superficiality or just ignorance gives room for people to have their cake and eat it too, so that they can perform something they call yoga, perhaps for the cultural cache attached to it, but never run afoul their own credal confession. I just don’t understand the impulse behind that and the need to go to such lengths to try to have it all and internal contradictions be damned. Like I care about following Christ. I also care about physical fitness. At no point in those mutual concerns have I said, well… guess I have to join a yoga class now. There are a million fitness options available to me that don’t require me to flirt with a metaphysical tradition that will force me to choose between my physical regime and my religion. Why even flirt with that possibility. Why not steer a wide birth around such risks when they’re entirely unnecessary. Because if you go to a yoga class, even if you don’t want to achieve moksha… I’m willing to bet there are people there who are trying to achieve it or something resembling it. Why participate in that. Like that married couple who has an “open marriage”. Like, imagine them going to swinger parties and saying, “oh, we’re not here for the infidelity part of it. We come to these parties to encourage openness in our communication, but it’s ok if that’s what other people are doing.” It’s like, no, don’t put yourself in an environment designed to oppose your aims in life.

So, if people are going to practice yoga, I think they need to know what it is and what its ends are and that those ends have nothing to do with what it is that Christians are supposed to be moving towards in their life. And lastly, if you’re a bishop and you have yoga retreats being hosted in your diocese in centers that specifically promote themselves as Catholic… can we please finally put an end to that? These are dying institutions anyways so at least out of mercy, let’s put them out of their misery. But for whatever integrity we have with our Catholic institutions, this kind of thing should not be promoted as if it’s entirely compatible with Catholicism. Because it isn’t.

Pope Benedict XVI, when he was still Cardinal Ratzinger, famously described the moral condition of modern society as a “dictatorship of relativism.” I have often returned to this phrase, especially the word dictatorship. The logical problems of relativism are fairly obvious, but why did he associate it with something so coercive?

Relativism, in this sense, is an individualistic and subjective approach to morality, well summarized by George Bernard Shaw’s remark that “the only Golden Rule is that there are no golden rules.” In modern Western thought, morality is often understood as a social convention rather than an objective reality. Right and wrong are said to emerge from consensus and change over time.

The usual evidence offered for this claim is disagreement: since people do not agree about morality, there must be no true morality. But disagreement does not eliminate truth. The existence of multiple answers to a question does not mean there is no correct answer. We do not determine mathematical truth by counting incorrect responses on Facebook, nor should we determine moral truth that way.

Yet acknowledging objective moral truth requires intellectual honesty and moral fortitude. It is far easier to deny moral obligation altogether and console ourselves with the idea that morality is merely constructed, allowing us to do as we please without guilt.

Once society accepts morality as mere convention, it immediately invites reformers who ask, “If it’s just a convention, why not improve it?” This is how Western culture has undergone dramatic moral shifts, particularly regarding sexual ethics and marriage. Traditional moral norms are dismissed as arbitrary, outdated, or oppressive, and new moral frameworks are proposed as more enlightened alternatives.

These new values are then promoted aggressively through media and politics. Characters who would once have been considered immoral are now portrayed as virtuous and heroic. Public figures who fail to conform are swiftly condemned or “cancelled,” often before they even realize the moral rules have changed.

Here lies the central contradiction: reformers claim morality is chosen, yet insist their chosen morality is better. But “better” is itself a moral judgment. If morality is purely conventional, there is no meaningful standard by which one convention can be superior to another. The appeal to improvement quietly smuggles in an objective moral standard while pretending none exists.

Traditional moral systems openly acknowledged such a standard and sought to conform human behavior to it. Modern moral systems deny its existence while enforcing their own standards with remarkable intolerance. This is why dissent today is often met not with argument, but with moral outrage and social punishment.

This brings us back to Benedict’s word dictatorship. When a society recognizes objective moral law, it possesses a rule of law that applies equally to rulers and subjects alike. But when morality is treated as malleable convention, those with power can simply reshape it to justify their behavior. The rest are left to conform.

Relativism promises freedom, but in practice it hands moral authority to the powerful. In the absence of a shared objective standard, moral disagreement is settled not by reason, but by force. And so moral relativism, however liberating it may sound, inevitably ends in tyranny.

I’ve been Catholic long enough now to have seen people come and go. Whenever I notice someone struggling or drifting away, I often invite them to talk about it and challenge them on what’s going on. That is, after all, our responsibility.

Accountability belongs not only to the clergy but to all of us. At baptism and confirmation, we make promises to the Church, and the community is meant to support us in keeping them. I have always taken that seriously and have often sat down with people trying to work through difficulties in their faith.

With men especially, when one foot is already out the door, their complaints are usually framed as intellectual. They question God’s existence, the credibility of Scripture, or the failures of history. Yet I rarely find these objections compelling or new. Typically, after conversation, the exchange ends with, “Ya, I guess,” or, “We’ll just have to agree to disagree.” What this really means is: “I have no further objections, but I remain dissatisfied and plan to leave.”

At that point, I want to ask: “What would convince you?” If you frame your doubt as intellectual and the rational solutions do not satisfy you, then the issue is no longer intellectual but something deeper.