I understand that every generation wants to find its “thing,” its scene, a new level of probing the boundaries of life’s possibilities to set it apart from what the previous generation accepted as reality. And there’s no denying that Gen Z has done away with some of the more straitjacketing stereotypes that Christians should have done away with long ago. But the solution that our culture is offering, the so-called positive vision of valuing souls as the drivers of our bodies, which are mere instruments on which to express one’s freedom and felt identity, is inescapably gnostic. It should not go unnoticed that this ideology has gained rapid entrée into the courts of polite consensus precisely when we’ve never been less physically present to each other, to ourselves, or to the earth. When seven hours of the average person’s day is spent on a screen, with a limited if emotionally powerful toolbox of words and images, it’s no wonder that a disembodied reality finds so much purchase among us. Except that this fantasy is not constrained to the screen: its technologies are not merely digital but surgical and chemical, doing violence to bodies, to psyches, to families, and to public squares.