Note: If you haven’t yet, please read the introduction for this substack.
During the lockdown years of 2020 and 2021, the large majority of people in Seattle were very afraid of covid. I wasn’t. My recipe for staying resistant to the fear was (1) an ability to read emerging science, most of which called into question public health policies, (2) a questioning personality, (3) a preference for natural healing and living in concert with nature, and (4) relationships with some family, friends, and neighbors who also did not fall prey to the hype, including some who were eager to socialize.
However, I noticed that other non-fearful people had some different ingredients in their recipes. Some simply had strong gut feelings of truth, morality, rights, or freedom. Some were aficionados of sports, and continued playing even if official league play was canceled. Some were members of a few unafraid churches that were still meeting in person despite covid mandates to shut down.
The fearful majority of Seattle seemed to be largely college-educated. But even if they were able to read emerging science, they weren’t doing it. Nor were they following their gut feelings or asking any obvious questions. Nor were they seeking the company of others to help them resist the fear. Their main links with the world were the biased news feeds on their phone. They had occasional calls and Zoom meetings with friends, family, colleagues, or churchmates, most of whom were equally in the dark and equally as fearful. If they were feeling very bold, they might hazard an occasional awkward, distanced, outdoor get-together with a friend or two.
I began to see that the fearful people were like jellyfish, moving together with the shifting current of a mass media that had become their ersatz reality. Their primary connection was with that media current itself. These jellyfish had an illusion of stability because they’d see other jellyfish around them, all floating nearby in formation. They didn’t even realize they were in a current that was taking them all somewhere out of their control.
In contrast, the unafraid people were aware of the current and were able to resist it. They were equipped either to swim against the current, like a fish can, or to have a strong footing on the ocean floor, like a starfish might.
Now, in 2022, it’s harder to know who’s a jellyfish because covid hype has already largely played out. But jellyfish are still around in equal numbers, vulnerable to be washed away with the next fear-mongering media wave of whatever sort.
The fact that such a large portion of the population is vulnerable to this should be a concern to everyone. A reactive population without critical thinking or moral grounding leaves our society and government vulnerable to manipulation by elites. It is an unhealthy society. How, then, to encourage healthy thought and conviction in people?
Unfortunately, the universities certainly have been of no help in the sort of critical thinking that a resilient “fish” needs. And typical churches—the ones that obediently locked down—have been of no help with the conviction that a steadfast “starfish” would need. Most churches in Seattle even contributed to the lockdown fear. Those churches met only on Zoom, falling into the hastily-accepted promise of “when we have the vaccine, then we can meet in person again.” Many churches in the Seattle area later demanded (and even kept records of) proof of vaccination in order to attend in-person services, despite their hypocritical slogans of “all are welcome” or “come as you are”.
The few churches that flouted lockdowns during 2021 and 2022 are, I believe, a hint at what needs to be done. I attended one of these during lockdown, a church not far from Seattle. It was indeed joyful to be among a crowd of unafraid and friendly people
However, I felt a lack of ability to dedicate myself to such churches (which I’ll explain more in Part 2), and I began to consider more and more about the possibility of a new kind of church. I found that I wasn’t the only one thinking of a new church. As one anti-lockdown acquaintance at the time quipped: “We need a Church of Common Sense.”
Although I had already been thinking about the framework of a new religion for years, since 2021 I started having the feeling that society now really needs this new type of church. Like the unafraid churches that stayed open during lockdown, the new church would encourage in-person community and maintain social connection as part of its creed. In addition, it would help resolve the underlying conditions that cause so many people to become jellyfish: dependence on electronic devices, fear of nature, and lack of a moral compass with regard to technology, to name a few.
In my next post, I’ll explore in more detail the need for this new religion, and explain how this religion is tied to traditional faiths.