The Third of May, by Goya. 1814

The Third of May, by Francisco de Goya. 1814

I had sev­eral eureka moments when I was a kid, regard­ing orga­nized reli­gion. These led to var­i­ous break­aways and new direc­tions, which I devel­oped as I aged. No straight lines to some pre­de­ter­mined goal, to be sure. No easy paths to easy answers. There were always sur­prises and read­just­ments, new real­iza­tions of past errors, and new under­stand­ings of pre­vi­ous igno­rance regard­ing this or that view held by oth­ers. And I tried to remain hum­ble in the face of the mys­tery of why reli­gions devel­oped as they did and why they are so impor­tant to so many.

I was reminded of one of those moments recently when I heard a song about the help­less­ness of a child, his call for help, his plea. It made me think about how nat­ural it is for humans to look out­side them­selves for answers, for pro­tec­tion, for sus­te­nance, for guid­ance. Natural. We are born in an extremely vul­ner­a­ble state and stay in that state for our entire lives. Even though we gen­er­ally develop means for cop­ing bet­ter with dan­ger­ous sur­round­ings as we age, we never entirely free our­selves of our vul­ner­a­bil­ity to out­side forces. Sickness, vio­lent weather, finan­cial dis­as­ters, the loss of loved ones, crime, war, even the occa­sional encounter with the wild, all push us back closer to our days in swad­dling clothes, cry­ing for moth­ers and fathers. And, unlike all other ani­mals — as far as we know — we actu­ally know we will die. We never really leave our state of vulnerability.

We are con­di­tioned from a young age to voice our wants, to tell par­ents and other adults our desires, often­times to plead with them for things we feel we must have. Of course, we may quickly learn that other adults just don’t respond the way our par­ents did, when we were in the crib, in the playpen, or bounc­ing around the house like it was our own per­sonal king­dom. But that early con­di­tion­ing is so deeply ingrained, we never really lose the con­nec­tion between wishes and plead­ing or cajol­ing oth­ers to attain them. I think most of us retain that con­nec­tion for life, at least on a sub­con­scious level. Not attain­ing our wishes is never enough to stop us from ask­ing. We seem not to worry about that, or take the time to make sta­tis­ti­cal charts regard­ing the suc­cess rates of our plead­ings. We con­tinue to ask for what we want in a thou­sand dif­fer­ent ways.

It is not really a very big step to go from plead­ing with par­ents and other adults to plead­ing with gods and god­desses. That is also a nat­ural pro­gres­sion. It is, how­ever, a con­sid­er­able leap to go from ask­ing for divine inter­ven­tion for your­self, to ask­ing for divine help for oth­ers. It is yet another leap to go from ask­ing for inter­ven­tion for your clos­est loved ones and friends, to a broad inclu­sion based upon gen­eral need. “Selflessness” is a sign of human matu­rity and a big step away from the playpen.

The Prayer, by William Bouguereau. 1865

The Prayer, by William Bouguereau. 1865

 

But it is still tied to the orig­i­nat­ing idea. The orig­i­nal equa­tion. Wants and desires + pro­pi­ti­a­tion = attainment.

Of course, reli­gions are com­plex, and they deal with much more than the above. The rea­sons for join­ing them are com­plex as well. For tens of thou­sands of years, peo­ple have been drawn to them for a mul­ti­tude of rea­sons that I don’t cover here. That said, I do think the above equa­tion is cen­tral to part of the endeavor.

Which leads me to this: mys­ti­cism. In gen­eral, mys­tics are the Olympic ath­letes of spir­i­tu­al­ity. They take reli­gion to a whole new level. Their prac­tice is daily, their inten­sity some­thing most mem­bers of most reli­gions never expe­ri­ence. Their main goal is one­ness. Becoming One with God, or Nature, or The All. Most mys­tics have bro­ken entirely free of the equa­tion. Most do not want some­thing out­side them­selves to give them some­thing. They want to cre­ate it them­selves, build it from within, jour­ney to it, grab hold of it, and never let go. Rather than ask­ing a divine being to come down here and hand deliver a requested boon of some sort, they have decided to travel to that divine being, or thing, or every­thing, and merge with it. They have decided to stop ask­ing for things and merge with every­thing, thus ren­der­ing all such requests superfluous.

Were and are there gra­da­tions involved? Certainly. Were and are there com­plex­i­ties too dif­fi­cult to sort through? Yes. One such com­plex­ity might be the object of the merger. With whom or what does the mys­tic seek merger? And are there objects that seem morally or eth­i­cally or spir­i­tu­ally above other choices?

I’ll address some of those ques­tions in my next post.

 

 

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