Death of a religion: Universism’s strange demise

It isn’t often that we get to observe the birth and death of a religion. Especially a non-religious religion. Universism is, or was, such a beast. Its brief rise and sudden fall offers some instructive lessons concerning the dangers of institutionalized belief. I’ve been writing about Universism since I discovered it last July. At first I considered it a kindred unfaith that was completely compatible with my churchless leanings. I then plunged deeper into Universism and organized a local Salem Universist discussion group. But then the central Universist Movement started to turn weird. My posts became more critical, starting with…

I don’t go to satsang, yet I do

Satsang is a Hindu and Sikh term that means, literally, “association with truth.” It has lots of connotations, but in its most basic sense satsang is a meeting. I’ve been going to the satsang of our local Radha Soami Satsang Beas (RSSB) group for about thirty years. As the RSSB website says, “satsang” also means a group that seeks truth. So the satsang that is a group can have a satsang meeting where truth is discussed. A few weeks ago I stopped going to the meetings. I came to the conclusion that the boundaries of truth are a lot larger…

Gospel of Judas casts heresy in a new light

Believers often say that the gospel of Jesus is good news. For churchless folks like me though, I’ve never been able to find much to cheer about in Matthew, Mark, Luke, or John.

But now we’ve got the Gospel of Judas, and it contains some really good news for heretics. Jesus tells Judas that he is the disciple who will exceed all of the others. In short, he’s the only one who got Jesus’ message. As an excellent National Geographic article puts it:

The Judas gospel vividly reflects the struggle waged long ago between the Gnostics and the hierarchical church. In the very first scene Jesus laughs at the disciples for praying to “your god,” meaning the disastrous god who created the world. He compares the disciples to a priest in the temple (almost certainly a reference to the mainstream church), whom he calls “a minister of error” planting “trees without fruit, in my name, in a shameful manner.” He challenges the disciples to look at him and understand what he really is, but they turn away.

This gospel makes considerable sense to me. It says that Judas was being obedient to God’s will, since Jesus needed to die so he could be released from the confining physical body and liberate the genuine soul-Christ inside. It’s mystical rather than theological.

I’ve always wondered why Christians express so much sorrow over the crucifixion. Don’t they believe that Jesus died for our sins? Didn’t the crucifixion need to happen if humanity was to be saved? Wasn’t Judas part of the Big Plan rather than a duplicitous traitor?

True believers won’t look upon Christian dogma any differently now that the Gnostic Gospel of Judas has been released to the world. That’s the nature of true belief: it is impervious to fresh facts. But hopefully the open-minded members of the Christian faithful will study the gospel and consider its implications.

If a personal God exists, and that’s a giant “if,” seemingly He/She/It would be in control of the creation that this being has brought into existence. A clueless impotent God is no god at all, really. So if it is true, as Jesus said, that “The Father and I are one” (John 10:30), it makes sense that God was directing the whole crucifixion drama and wasn’t a passive member of the audience.

This means that Judas’ apparently black-hearted actions were divinely inspired. More generally, blasphemy, heresy, skepticism, and doubt are seen to be an integral aspect of God’s plan for the world (again, assuming that there is a personal God who has plans). The Gospel of Judas points us toward an inclusive and non-judgmental Christianity far removed from the absurd attitude of “the Devil made him do it.”

Gospel of Judas or not, Christianity still doesn’t resonate with me. It is too dependent on distant historical tales that probably never happened and lacks a coherent philosophical foundation. I lean strongly in the mystical direction but still am attracted to a metaphysics that makes sense.

It’s encouraging, though, to see that some early Christians, the Gnostics, had a more enlightened view of Jesus than the canonical gospels present. I can get behind this conception described in the National Geographic piece:

While Christians like Irenaeus stressed that only Jesus, the son of God, was simultaneously human and divine, the Gnostics proposed that ordinary people could be connected to God. Salvation lay in awakening that divine spark within the human spirit and reconnecting with the divine mind.

Amen to that.

[Next day update: Religion scholar Elaine Pagels has an interesting Op-Ed piece in the NY Times today. I’ll share it as a continuation to this post. She makes the point that the Gospel of Jesus and other non-canonical early Christian writings are considered “heretical” now by church authorities. However, it may be that the heretical teachings are closer to Jesus’ original message than the heavily edited New Testament.

This seems to be a general Rule of Heresy: many times, if not most times, a seeming heresy is an attempt to restore the clarity of a spiritual truth that has gotten covered with the mire of institutional dogma. People start to worship what is without rather than what is within and revere abstract concepts rather than direct experience. Viewed in this light, gnostic writings like the Gospel of Judas reflect genuine Christianity, while what passes for Jesus’ teachings today is the counterfeit.]

What are the chances you’re right about God?

More and more, for me spirituality comes down to two basics: “What are the chances?” and “The odds are pretty good.” The first question points me toward humble skepticism, the second toward energetic inquiry. Here’s what I mean: What are the chances…? --That my chosen religion or philosophy, out of the thousands of religions in the world, just happens to be the one that is right about God, while the others are wrong. --That any religion or philosophy, mine or another, possesses the complete truth about ultimate reality. --That once I’ve settled on a spiritual direction for my life, there…

Theology vs. reality in the RSSB teachings

“Reality.” It’s one of my favorite words. Especially if you say it like Cartman would on South Park: Realitey. That gives it a certain Frenchy sort of snob appeal. But reality, or realitey, really isn’t snobbish at all. It’s the most down-home thing there is. More: it’s the only thing there is. The only real thing, at least. The Greeks considered that something can exist, yet barely be. In other words, there are degrees of reality. Generally we think, “it either is or it isn’t.” However, it could sort of be. And there could be something else with more beingness…

Dance to your own music

I’m taking tango lessons. Hard to believe. But I’ve got proof. Check out my “We tango and also get tangled” post. A month has passed and we don’t get quite as tangled now. I’m enjoying tango much more than I thought I would. It’s tempting to dive into an analysis of what I like about tango. However, the memory of some pithy advice I was given at the last class is still vivid: “Shut up and dance!” That declarative statement was a gift, not an insult. Borrowing a favorite word from Steven Colbert, I enjoyed the marvelous truthiness of it.…

Prayer doesn’t work. It’s a fact.

Wow! What a surprise this isn’t. Researchers have found that praying for heart bypass patients had no effect on their recovery. In fact, the complication rate was higher for those patients who were confident that someone was praying for them, compared to those who were uncertain of such prayers. This implies that if you’re faced with a serious situation you shouldn’t say, “Please pray for me.” Rather, make it “Please, don’t pray for me.” Another interpretation: “The results laid bare Jesus' hostility towards those who think he can be bothered with their personal problems.”

Believing in problems may be our only problem

I’m addicting to solving problems. Or at least, trying to solve them. The Mega Problem that has occupied my attention for most of my life is “What’s life all about?” I’ve always assumed that there is an answer to this question. Religion, philosophy, science, psychotherapy, self-improvement systems. These all spring from the assumption that there are problems to be solved and the purpose of life is to find the answers. But what if this assumption is ill-founded? What if the cosmos actually is absolutely fine just as it is, us included? Could it be true that erroneously believing in the…

As the steps disappear behind you

Recently I got an email from a Church of the Churchless visitor who said, “Still read your website. Looks like all those years of meditation are bearing fruit.” I wrote back, “I don’t know whether years of meditation are bearing fruit. I feel more and more barren. Could that be the prelude to bearing fruit? I can only hope.”

Then I received a wonderful response. My correspondent shared thoughts, experiences, and quotations about spiritual chaos, the breaking up of what is orderly and familiar so that fresh realizations are able to grow. I liked what she said so much, with her permission I’m sharing her message almost verbatim here.

Sometimes it wasn’t clear where her own words left off and a quote began. I may have made some mistakes with my quotation marks. But then, the source of a wise statement doesn’t really matter. Truth is truth, no matter from where it springs.

The first part of her message follows. To read the rest, click on the “continue reading” link.
————————–
Hi Brian,

As for your meditation bearing fruit . . .Well, from my viewpoint, it is obviously so. From my studies and personal experience, when a soul makes a breakthrough in awareness the “world” doesn’t usually break out in applause and encourage it to move forward.

The “world” usually tells you to shut the fuck up or says you are weird. “Hey, get back here where you belong.” Or, “you don’t fit in anymore.” And if you are not experiencing consolations within, which is apparently standard for this part of the journey, it can be lonely.

I don’t feel like I can explain my perception as well as I would like. But, for now, here’s just a few things that come to mind.

From Anthony De Mello’s The Heart of the Enlightened: Given the nature of the spiritual quest: “A man came upon a tall tower and stepped inside to find it all dark. As he groped around, he came upon a circular staircase. Curious to know where it led to, he began to climb, and as he climbed, he sensed a growing uneasiness in his heart. So he looked behind him and was horrified to see that each time he climbed a step, the previous one fell off and disappeared. Before him the stairs wound upward and he had no idea where they led; behind him yawned an enormous black emptiness.”

Various yoga or esoteric traditions describe the path of evolution as a spiral, going through complete cycles of seasons on each step. During some of the fall or winter seasons, there is the appearance or feeling you are going down, but the reality is you are still on the same step cycling through all the seasons of that stage. And the seasons are effecting changes in you.

And forces within you are drawing you onward and forward into the next season and cycle, and ultimately into the next step or stage. And even though you had been getting closing and closer to placing your foot on the next step, when it happens it seems like suddenly you are in a different place. And you look back, and like Jon Stewart, go “Whaaaaaaaa?” and rub your eyes. The step below has vanished.

So there is no going back because, like it or not, something within and without is driving you. It’s like birth. You may feel like you’re being squished to death – but out you go, like it or not. The point is, you are now entering into unknown, expanded territory, and it is difficult to integrate the new expanded territory with the old.

You may miss the security of being closer to what you thought was the ground and you may miss some of the comforts and familiarity of prior steps. You may no longer have the fringe benefit of a community supporting you for believing and acting like they do. When the going gets rough, nostalgia makes you long for past, simpler times, when you thought you had it all figured out. When the pressures and insecurity that go with the new territory become uncomfortable, you make some half-hearted attempts to go back down a rung, or even two, to recover that security.

But you discover that the lower rungs no longer provide the comfort you hoped for. The rung below has “disappeared” for you — and there is nothing to go back to. You can only go forward into the new unknown. The familiar One is always and ever present and calling you closer, but it’s hard to believe in the chaos of this transition phase.

An old koan rises from my past

So, yesterday there I am re-reading my long ignored copy of “Zen in the Art of Archery.” I turn a page and find a rent receipt from August 1968 stuck in the book. College days. Beginning of my junior year at San Jose State. Had recently gotten back from Europe, where I’d spent the second semester taking classes in Zadar, Yugoslavia. I’d rented an apartment with a couple of other hippie potheads. That explains the reference to three cleaning deposits. I idly turn the receipt over. Find some handwriting. Mine. I read: “There will be light when there is no…

More skepticism about Sant Mat

Periodically I get email messages from dissatisfied initiates of Radha Soami Satsang Beas. They’ve come to regard the RSSB (or Sant Mat) philosophy with considerable skepticism. Because I believe in the potential of a genuine spiritual science, which requires that the results of spiritual “experiments” be openly discussed, I’m pleased to share these messages when the author gives me permission. Bob did, so you’ll find his story below. It’s well written and provocative. I’m still a vegetarian and feel that I always will be. The idea of eating animal flesh after thirty-seven years of meatlessness turns my stomach. But Bob’s…

In praise of divorce

Yesterday a friend told me that she found an old book of mine lurking in the shelves of Powell’s Books in Portland. Her email message said: Hey, Brian! Guess what I found at Powell’s today . . . an old copy of The Path of the Masters lurking in the Indian philosophy section -- instead of Sikhism. Since it was an older version smelling of mildew I just had to take a look -- and guess what I found inside, an inscription “To Brian . . . from Sue . . . 1970.” Sue was my first wife. We got…

Go ahead and believe

I’m a skeptic. That’s my nature. But if you’re a believer, more power to you. Skepticism feels right to me. Belief feels right to most people, since belief in a “God” of some sort is a decided majority opinion, particularly in the hyper-religious United States. I understand the allure of belief in a higher power. Faced with the uncertainties of life—death, disease, distress (to name a few)—it’s tremendously reassuring to consider that you’re being cared for and loved by God or some other manifestation of divinity. Such as a guru. In response to my “Who is the guru?” post, Nick…

Who is the guru?

I’ve been thinking about the four options concerning who Jesus was, according to biblical scholar Bart Ehrman: a liar, a lunatic, the Lord, or a legend. When it comes to a long-dead historical figure like Jesus, these options make sense. But what about a modern-day guru who is similarly proclaimed to be God in human form? I was initiated by such a guru, Charan Singh Grewal. I sat at his feet, literally. I had two personal interviews with him. I heard him speak many times. I saw him worshipped by tens of thousands of devotees as a divine incarnation. And…

Losing faith in the fiction of Jesus

Christians sometimes say that there are just three options as to who Jesus was: a liar, a lunatic, or the Lord. Bart Ehrman adds a fourth option: legend. Ehrman is a Biblical scholar and author of “Misquoting Jesus.”

His book strikes at the heart of Christian faith. For the Bible is considered to be the inerrant Word of God. But the problem is, we don’t know what those words were. There is no original trustworthy Biblical text. All we have are copies of copies of texts that were changed countless times over the centuries, sometimes from simple clerical error, sometimes purposely.

Ehrman once was a devout evangelical. Now he is an agnostic. His scholarship caused him to realize that the words of the Bible can’t be trusted. There’s no proof that Jesus was divine, that he was resurrected from the dead, that he performed miracles, that belief in him results in salvation.

You can believe in Jesus if you like. You can also believe in the Easter Bunny. Or Santa Claus. Or leprechauns. If it makes you feel good to believe in a legend, do it. Just don’t expect that other people should take you seriously or respect your ill-founded faith. Ehrman writes:

Occasionally I see a bumper sticker that reads: “God said it, I believe it, and that settles it.” My response is always, What if God didn’t say it? What if the book you take as giving you God’s words instead contains human words? What if the Bible doesn’t give a foolproof answer to the questions of the modern age—abortion, women’s rights, gay rights, religious supremacy, Western-style democracy, and the like?

What if we have to figure out how to believe on our own, without setting up the Bible as a false idol—or an oracle that gives us a direct line of communication with the Almighty?

Reading “Misquoting Jesus” was a real eye-opener for me. This is billed as the first book about modern Biblical textual criticism that is aimed at general readers, not scholars. I’d always been skeptical that the gospels bore much resemblance to what Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John actually said (leaving aside the bigger question as to whether what they said is true).

Now I know that my skepticism is well-founded. I suspect that most Christians think the Bible they read on Sunday was written soon after Jesus’ death and has come down to us unaltered. Nothing could be further from the truth. If their Christian faith rests on the words of the Bible, it is resting on slippery sand. Ehrman says this about Biblical texts:

Not only do we not have the originals, we don’t have the first copies of the originals. We don’t even have copies of the copies of the originals, or copies of the copies of the copies of the originals. What we have are copies made later—much later…If one wants to insist that God inspired the very words of scripture, what would be the point if we don’t have the very words of scripture?…It’s a bit hard to know what the words of the Bible mean if we don’t even know what the words are!

There are several worthy candidates for the title of World’s Craziest Major Religion. I go back and forth trying to decide which faith deserves this dishonorable honor. Usually Christianity and Islam run neck and neck in my mind. I’ll give this to Islam, though: at least the modern day Koran is, to my understanding, unchanged from the days of Mohammed. Muslim beliefs may be weird, but at least they’re consistently weird.

Christianity, by contrast, is a mish-mash of dogma that has been cobbled together over the centuries. Little, if any, can be reliably traced to Jesus. There’s little doubt that if Jesus returned to earth today and took a look at the Christian faith he’d say, “What the hell is that all about?”

Ehrman has rejected a religion that no longer made sense to him. He talks a bit about his personal journey from faith to faithlessness in “Misquoting Jesus” but mostly keeps himself in the background. As a continuation to this post I’ll include a fascinating Washington Post review of his book that provides a fuller picture of Ehrman, the man.

Hitting all my conversational buttons

Life, death, consciousness, psychic phenomena, science, acceptance. Last night the conversation at our monthly Salon discussion group covered a lot of ground. There were just five of us, fewer than usual. Two believers in “something more,” two scientifically-minded skeptics, and me—the balanced Libra who bridged the two camps. Generally our group focuses more on politics and Bush-bashing than anything else. Yesterday the conversation was predominantly personal and philosophical. For me it was a delightful grab bag of what I like to talk about most: the Big Questions of Life. Consciousness. Lynda, our hostess, had recently attended several workshops about brain…

I abandon Universism

Well, it was sort of fun while it lasted, belonging to the “faithless” religion of Universism. But the Universist Movement is acting too much like a traditional religion for my taste, so I’m jumping ship. I just deleted the Universist banner on this blog. A symbolic gesture that definitely won’t go down in history along with Luther’s pinning of his Ninety-Five Theses to a cathedral door but, hey, it’s a statement. It seems that whenever an independent, free-thinking, counterculture movement gets organized, it starts to take on the qualities of whatever it is rebelling against. By all accounts Christianity was…

Spiritual emptiness: it’s a good thing

Most people consider spiritual emptiness something to be avoided. After all, if we’re not filled with the love of Jesus, Buddha-like compassion, the fear of God, or whatever (and there are lots and lots of whatevers) then we’re empty. Isn’t emptiness a bad thing? When the gas tank is empty, your car stops running. When the cupboard is empty, you’ve got nothing to eat. When the bookshelf is empty, you can’t do any reading. But what about when your spirit, or mind, is empty? Is there really nothing there, or is there more there when nothing is there than when…

Best answer often is “None of the above”

My manly self-image isn’t based on mechanical aptitude, so my ego is letting me share these stories. Then I’ll turn to my area of real competence: analyzing the anecdotes. Saturday morning I sold our old generator to a guy who saw my ad in the classifieds. He said he’d come by around eight. I figured that the sale would go more smoothly if the generator would start. Sometimes it’s a terror to get going when it hasn’t been started for a while. I don’t run the generator very often, so I got out the manual and reviewed the start-up procedures.…

Tracking the trajectory of my Wu Project

Here’s documentation of my first original quasi-spiritual insight. Today I dragged this piece of paper out of my “treasures box,” where I keep various memorabilia from my youth. I wrote the poem when I was 13 after gazing up at the stars one night from the backyard of our rural home in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada mountains. It goes like this: Look up to the heavens What is there? Tiny pinpoints of light But is that all? Look past the stars Into the blackness of the void. What lies there, waiting for man’s first faltering steps Into the…