No One is Coming to Save You
No Amount of Evangelical Mantras will get You Through the Chaos
Nashville is unseasonably warm right now so I’ve been spending as much time as possible outside. On a mid-day walk with my dog, a car passed me with their windows rolled down, music blaring, and the driver of the car singing at the top of his lungs. My body recognized the song before my mind did. “It is well with my soul!” shouted my neighbor, as he drove past.
I’m not really bothered by religious music anymore; in fact, nowadays I miss parts of it. Not so much the music, but the communal singing, leading worship, harmonizing, and the camaraderie among the worship team that I was on.
As the car drove on and the music faded, it wasn’t lost on me that this was the song he was playing at this moment in time. The entire song is about spiritual bypassing. No matter what happens…peace or sorrow, God teaches us to say “it is well with my soul”.
When peace like a river attended my way
When sorrows like sea billows roll
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say
It is well, it is well, with my soul
It is well (it is well)
With my soul (with my soul)
It is well, it is well with my soul
Back in my religious days I would have thought it was a sign–from God, no less–that even in the midst of chaos, all I needed to do was remember that God’s got it…it’s well with my soul. But today as I reflected on the lyrics to the song (and many others like it), it struck me that in reality, the spiritual bypassing in the song was all about leaving the reality of what was happening and focusing on the “hope” of what God can do. Most of religion is spiritual bypassing–that’s part of the appeal. Religion promises that regardless of what is happening, God is in control, we just have to trust him, follow his rules and everything will work out for good. And if it doesn’t here on earth, we always have heaven to look forward to.
And for many people, this seems to work. At least kind of. They just repeat phrases like “it is well with my soul” or Bible verses over and over in hopes that the anxiety, fear, or grief will be salved with an evangelical mantra. It’s a recipe for shame, however, because the fear, anxiety, or grief never stays away (which makes sense since you aren’t actually dealing with it!) But in religious circles, there is never anything wrong with the system or its rules–surely it’s the individual who just needs to believe harder, trust more, and give it over to God more.
Over the years, I’ve had many moments where I wish I could believe in the God that I was taught about growing up. I get why having a higher power feels better. It gives the illusion of safety, stability, and certainty. These are things that our nervous system thrives on for survival. So in the midst of chaos or crisis, holding onto a belief that there is some higher purpose or a higher power overseeing everything, helps us feel better. This often gives people permission to not take responsibility for their actions, deal with consequences for real and present threats or harm, or can cause people not to take things seriously. If an all-sovereign God has got everything in control and cannot be surprised by anything, then what is the use in us feeble-minded humans paying attention, making changes, or doing anything about it?
This, though, is spiritual bypassing. I like the definition of spiritual bypassing that Verwell Mind gives:
“Spiritual bypassing" refers to the act of using spiritual beliefs or practices to avoid facing and processing difficult emotions, psychological wounds, or unresolved issues, essentially using spirituality as a way to sidestep dealing with painful experiences rather than integrating them into personal growth; it often involves quickly resorting to positive thinking or gratitude to suppress negative emotions like anger or grief, instead of allowing oneself to fully feel them.
Some of the hardest moments in my life over the past decade have been remaining present in the moments where I would previously spiritually bypass and instead actually having to go through it. All of it, including the hard stuff. It’s meant that I’ve had to have tough conversations, go through difficult periods of time in my life, deal with consequences, lose relationships, look at the aspects of myself that needed growth, and face things head on, rather than using platitudes, positive thinking, or spiritual mantras alone to fix it.
I think one of the biggest ways people use spiritual bypassing is in the savior figure itself. Sure, we can criticize religion for creating problems that only they can fix. (For instance, if the theology didn’t require that we were born sinners in need of a savior, then the savior figure they present wouldn’t be needed.)
But for the purposes of this article, the idea of the savior figure–the one who is coming to save you–is spiritual bypassing. And to be clear, I’m not just talking about a savior figure like Jesus Christ. I’m talking about any person (or group of people) that is slotted as the person(s) to whip things into shape, to make things better, and to take away the fear that so many people are feeling right now. There is no one. There is no one coming to save you. There is no person that can take away your fear, stress, and pain. There is no movement, political party, or policy that will fix everything. There is no institution–religious, political, or otherwise–that will be able to save the day.
And gosh, that really sucks. Because wouldn’t it be so much easier if there was? A magic wand that could be waved or the second coming of Christ that would take us away from the chaos that is life right now?
But here’s the thing. Waiting for that savior figure is going to keep you grounded in fantasy and require you to sing “it is well…” at the top of your lungs as you drive down the road.
So what does it look like then? If spiritual bypassing isn’t available (or is no longer tolerable), what does it look like to face things head on? To take care of ourselves and disengage when needed while also staying aware of what is going on? Honestly, I wish I had an answer that worked for everyone. But then again, I don’t think that just one answer would work for everyone (plus, I’m not interested in being a fundamentalist!)
In the midst of the “it is well with my soul” saga, I was reminded by a friend that part of what gets us through this time is knowing that each one of us is different in the way we unplug, engage, and what is important to us. The beautiful thing in that is that it means when one of us is overwhelmed or scared, someone else can pick up the heavy load and carry it that day. It means that we focus our attention on the things that matter most to us and fight for those, even if it’s not what someone else says is important according to them. It means that we honor the ways that we can engage and honor the times we must disengage–and even the times we need to put our heads in the sand and numb out. We each show up in the ways that we can, with the unique skills that we have and we do the next right thing.
But in that, we don’t wait for someone else to come and save us. We don’t even need to pray for a savior. We challenge ourselves to move through things instead of bypassing.
I was encouraged to read a thread from sociologist Jennifer Walter about what is happening in this country right now and what to do about it:
“Overwhelming you is the goal.
The flood of 200+ executive orders in Trump's first days exemplifies Naomi Klein's "shock doctrine" - using chaos and crisis to push through radical changes while people are too disoriented to effectively resist. This isn't just politics as usual - it's a strategic exploitation of cognitive limits.
Media theorist McLuhan predicted this: When humans face information overload, they become passive and disengaged. The rapid-fire executive orders create a cognitive bottleneck, making it nearly impossible for citizens and media to thoroughly analyze any single policy.
Agenda-setting theory explains the strategy: When multiple major policies compete for attention simultaneously, it fragments public discourse. Traditional media can't keep up with the pace, leading to superficial coverage.
The result? Weakened democratic oversight and reduced public engagement.
What now?
Set boundaries: Pick 2-3 key issues you deeply care about and focus your attention there. You can't track everything - that's by design. Impact comes from sustained focus, not scattered awareness.
Use aggregators & experts: Find trusted analysts who do the heavy lifting of synthesis. Look for those explaining patterns, not just events.
Remember: Feeling overwhelmed is the point. When you recognize this, you regain some power. Take breaks. Process. This is a marathon.
Practice going slow: Wait 48hrs before reacting to new policies. The urgent clouds the important. Initial reporting often misses context.
Build community: Share the cognitive load. Different people track different issues. Network intelligence beats individual overload.
Remember: They want you scattered. Your focus is resistance."