*This is not to imply that I actually attended a spin class with Dr. Dobson. I just recalled some Dobsonian “wisdom” while thinking about spin class.
Last January, before the plague, I signed up for some spin classes.
Spin, in this context, means cycle. For those unfamiliar with spin classes, they go by other names as well and by various brands. “Soul Cycle” is one of the originals and the name describes many of the iterations. Spin class generally consists of a windowless room full of stationary bikes closely packed together in rows facing the front where there is one bike usually on a raised platform. There are a couple of reasons I found myself in spin class. The first was that it was a snowy and cold January. I had been riding my bike outside most days, and the weather prevented that possibility. The second reason was that I had heard that spin often had a kind of spiritual component. I had heard some people kind of make fun of that part of it, insinuating I suppose, that the spirituality was kind of vacant.
I was interested.
In total I attended probably 8 classes, 4 each at two different brands. That’s all that the low cost introductory offers allowed, and by then the weather had improved. The most noticeable thing about spin was that it was an apparently female space. I was either one of two men attending or sometimes the only man attending. Also of note was the mostly wordless camaraderie. There was a sense of all being in it together, each pedal stroke timed quickly and exactly, when to sit, when to stand, sometimes when to holler. I was clearly not as good at it as many of the people there, and for some reason I felt that any mis-timed pedal strokes on my part were not only glaringly obvious, but were also somehow letting the team down. Huge amounts of all together, but very little talking (it is possible that I was just being ignored and people were otherwise speaking with one another). The room was dark, all lights off except for the lighting of the stage on which the instructor rode their bike and yelled out encouragement and direction over the loud music. It did look a lot like those “cutting edge” churches with lights off, stage lit up and one elevated personality. To be fair, most of the yelling from the instructor was to do with the actual exercise, but a portion, was more general, more human, a touch spiritual. We were told how great we were. We were told to remind ourselves of that regularly. I usually attended early on weekday mornings and there was a kind of morning devotional feel to it, like things to remind yourself before the rest of your day.
I do understand why some critics of the spirituality might roll their eyes a bit. If there is spirituality it is of the sort that is decidedly anthropological. That is, the highest good was human even me myself, or the highest good was each of us. We were reminded of our value, our worth, our strength. Most of the participants were a good 25 years younger than me, and I did think during some of those words of blessing from the instructor that it might be a good thing for those young women to realize their strength given some of the shit that they might have to deal with in their workplaces. I smiled at the “you’re so great” stuff, but there were times when I left that I said to myself, “It was actually more spiritual than a lot of church services I have attended or been involved with.”
So where does Dr. Dobson come in?
Well, as I think of spin and how it elevated a self-focus, I am reminded of the largely terrible theological perspective of Dr. Dobson. When I was a young Christian, Dr. Dobson was a bit of an evangelical pope figure. Having now learned a great deal more theology than I knew at the time, I feel more able to give some structure to the dis-ease I felt at hearing much of what Dobson said. Next Tuesday, the “Evangelical Word of the Week” will draw from James Dobson, from Focus on the Family, so I won’t give that all away now. Suffice it to say that the self-focus of the spirituality of spin is simply another incarnation of the self-focus of the spirituality of Dobson. (Albeit the spin version is far far less damaging. Judging from his theological perspective, Dobson as a spin instructor would not be telling participants how great they were, but how great and in charge he was.) Any sense of the divine winds up revolving around self. We are either told how great we are or we fashion a concept of divinity that surprisingly agrees with all of our viewpoints, prejudices and wishes. I have recently finished a book called, “Jesus and John Wayne”. It is a fascinating look at the troubling views of masculinity and femininity espoused by much of conservative evangelicalism from the 1980’s to the present. If people want to laugh at young women hearing how great they are in spin class then we should laugh as well at evangelical Christian leaders who told others that they were the God-ordained leaders and the deciders in their families and the toughest and most godly and just generally the best. I found the spin class a little bit funny. I find the “manly-christian-superhero” stuff totally hilarious.
And yes, I get that I am no better. The challenge of the spiritual life is to see that you are not the centre. The challenge of my spiritual life is to get past self-centredness and any desire for power over another. I don’t grow in the spiritual life by being told how great I am. I grow by being convinced of how loved I am.
Please don’t think that I am equating spin class with Focus on the Family. My opinion is that Focus on the Family is way way worse. Remember, this is my opinion, you don’t have to agree with me: Spin is a mostly good thing that brings benefit to participants, but has some elements that some people may find a little much. In contrast, Focus on the Family was a central part of a very terrible move in Christian theology from which we are hopefully just beginning to recover. Did it maybe accomplish some good? Sure, I suppose. I’ll give you that. A terrible thing, that definitely did great damage and perhaps accomplished some good.
I recently read an article on a debate about Christianity within the Peloton world. Peloton is a relative of spin. You have a bike. You ride in your own home, but you also have an instructor and are part of a larger class with which you can connect and communicate virtually. The article enters the conversation about spirituality and exercise, about these kinds of gatherings and the possibility or impossibility of them being a replacement for church. I suppose that none of us would want to enter any kind of gathering if we were told it was of one type and it turned out to be something different. I’ll just say that when I was in spin class, the loud music never included Steven Curtis Chapman.