The Jack-o’Lantern and Jesus

By Tessa Bielecki

A Deeper Look at Halloween (Reposted from www.sandandsky.org)

All my life I’ve loved Halloween. I have fond childhood memories of my favorite costumes: the gypsy, draped in soft flowing scarves, wearing earrings long before I was old enough in “real” life; the pirate, with a black patch over one eye, front teeth and chin blackened with charcoal; the Japanese princess, wearing chrysanthemums my mother cut from the backyard and pinned to each side of my head. In my adult life I’ve continued to enjoy Halloween. The pirate remains a favorite costume, but I’ve also added the clown, a Spanish flamenco dancer one year, and more recently, a mime dressed all in black and white except for a red cap.

Even as a child I had a vague sense that there was something deep and mysterious about Halloween. As I grew older, I became progressively haunted by that sense of “something more.” In recent years I’ve come to understand consciously and theologically what I subconsciously intuited as a child.

The depth of meaning revolves around the jack-o’-lantern. Whenever I see one, my heart rejoices. Psychologist Carl Jung teaches us to pay careful attention to signs, symbols, and myths that trigger powerful emotions. So I’ve continued to explore why the jack-o’-lantern makes my heart soar. Surely there’s more to it than my love of crisp autumn air, the color orange, and Halloween costumes.

Pagan Roots

The origins of Halloween date back to the Druidic Celts who lived all over Europe between 1000 and 100 B.C. until conquered by Julius Caesar and absorbed by Rome. The Celtic New Year’s Eve Festival was called Samhain (literally “summer’s end” and pronounced “Sah-ween”) and began at sunset on October 3l, continuing through the night until dawn on November l, first day of the Celtic New Year. With the autumn harvest came the dying of the year as well as the dying of the land, the coming of the dark season, and the cold of winter, under the rule of Samhain, Lord of the Dead.

Before the Festival of Samhain (also the Celtic name for the winter season), the people stored their summer crops and secured their livestock for the winter, moving cattle, sheep, and horses to closer pastures. They slaughtered surplus cattle for the feast and burned the bones in “bone fires.” The “bonfires” were also kindled in honor of the departed Sun God. Julius Caesar describes more terrifying aspects of the Samhain celebration when the Druids burned wicker cages of men, women, and animals, along with bread, wine, and honey, seeking the gods’ favor by sacrificing their most valuable gifts. Horses were sacrificed, too, until the seventh century when Pope Gregory the Great issued a decree against it, suggesting that the people kill oxen instead for food “to the praise of God, and give thanks to the Giver of all gifts for His bounty.”

Celtic Day of the Dead

At Samhain, more than any other time of the year, the Celts believed that the ghosts of the dead mingled with the living. On this night, the souls of those who had died the year before traveled to the underworld. The bright bonfires served a dual purpose and expressed both the Celtic people’s fear and awe of the dead. On the one hand, the fires honored the dead and aided them on their journey. Room was made around the fire for the wandering souls to warm themselves, and food and drink were laid out for them as well. In their compassion, the living Celts sought to comfort the departed spirits in their pain.

But the Celts also feared the dead. The God Samhain transformed those who had died in sin into animals, and this night he summoned them for judgment. He would decide if they were to remain in animal form for another year or be allowed to enter paradise. On trial and angered by their animal state, the souls of the dead hovered in the air, capable of great mischief and wicked tricks. So the Celts dressed as animals themselves and danced through the night, hoping to lead the ghosts into paradise at dawn. And they kept their bonfires burning to protect themselves from the dead.

All Saints and All Souls

In the eighth century, Pope Gregory III moved the feast of All Saints’ Day, “All Hallows” or “All the Holy”, from May l3 to November l. October 31, All Hallows’ Evening, became All Hallows’ E’en, and finally Halloween.

In the ninth century, November 2 became All Souls’ Day, the Christian Day of the Dead, when the living pray for the souls of the departed. In Medieval England, people went “a soulin’” and prayed for the souls of the dead in exchange for a piece of “soul cake.” For years I enjoyed this song at Christmas instead of Halloween and never understood its significance:

Soul! Soul! Soul cake;
Please, good mistress, a soul cake,
Apple, pear, plum, or a cherry,
Any good thing to make us all merry;
One for Peter, two for Paul,
Three for Him that made us all.

The ending lines, which I only recently learned, hint at the contemporary custom of “tricking” if not given a “treat”: “Up with your kettle and down with your pan; Give me a good big one, and I’ll be gone.”

Halloween in America

According to the research of Michael Judge, the Protestant Reformation almost extinguished the observance of Halloween: “Reformist churches banned Halloween celebrations as satanic rituals and claimed that the Catholic Church, in allowing them to continue for so long, revealed itself as a heathen institution.” Halloween became widespread in America only after the mid-l9th century arrival of Irish Catholics. These survivors of the great potato famine of l848 were a welcome antidote to the Puritans of Colonial America who equated Halloween with superstition and black magic.

The American Irish, descendents of the ancient Celts, kept the traditional observances of Halloween and gave us the jack-o’-lantern. In Ireland these Samhain lanterns were carved out of potatoes or turnips and commemorated “Jack,” an Irish rogue so villainous that neither heaven nor hell wanted him, and he was doomed to wander endlessly, looking for a place to rest. It is unclear to me whether “Jack” was the potato or the potato lit his way, welcoming him as the early Celts welcomed lost souls around their bonfires. Some say that the face carved into the vegetable was the face of a loved one who had died in need of prayer. It is definitely clear, however, that the native American pumpkin makes a bigger and far more glorious jack-o’-lantern than a potato or a turnip!

The celebration of Halloween is seriously threatened today by conservative and fundamentalist Christianity. We’re told to avoid commemorating this day because it’s pagan and not Christian; because it’s childish and therefore foolish; because it’s satanic and evil. As Michael Judge laments: “It’s ironic that Halloween, which managed to make it as a genuine pagan remnant through so many centuries in a devoutly Catholic Europe, should be threatened in a society with a constitutional guarantee of religious freedom.” We need to “save” Halloween by embracing the deeper Christian truths it embodies.

Childish or Childlike?

In my fat file folder on Halloween I keep my favorite quote from Nikos Kazantzakis. It’s done in exquisite calligraphy by our friend, Michelle Reineck, of Kalamazoo, Michigan, who also loves Halloween and dresses up like a witch to both the dread and delight of the trick-or-treaters who come to her door. Michelle topped the quote with a bright orange pumpkin sticker and did the lettering in both orange and black, the traditional Halloween colors. Orange is the color of the autumn harvest, black the color of death. The passage from Kazantzakis reflects the spirit of Halloween as reflected in the Christian Scriptures: “Everyone needs a little bit of madness. Otherwise we’ll never be able to cut the rope and be free.” St. Paul echoes the “virtue” of madness when he tells us to become “fools for Christ.” In his first letter to the Corinthians, Paul writes:

“Here we are, fools for the sake of Christ…Make no mistake about it: if any one of you thinks of himself as wise, in the ordinary sense of the word, then he must learn to be a fool before he can be wise. Why? Because the wisdom of this world is foolishness to God….For God’s foolishness is wiser than human wisdom, and God’s weakness is stronger than human strength” (1 Cor. 4:10, 18-19; 1 Cor. 1:25).

In the paradoxical strength of weakness and the wisdom of foolishness, Jesus called a little child to him and set the child in front of his disciples. “Unless you change and become like little children,” he said, “you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. And so, the one who makes himself as little as this little child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven” (Mt. 18:1-4). Jesus also exclaimed: “I bless you, Father, Lord of heaven and of earth, for hiding these things from the learned and the clever and revealing them to mere children” (Mt. 1l:25). When we celebrate Halloween, then, we are not childish but childlike in the Gospel sense; foolish perhaps in the eyes of the world, but wise in God’s eye; not puritanical but supremely Catholic, which also means a bit pagan and Druidic as well.

Overcoming Evil and Fear

Some people are afraid to celebrate Halloween because they believe it’s satanic. A concerned friend sent me the following passage from a contemporary witch: “Not only is Halloween one of our grandest feasts, it is also our biggest laugh on Christians. While we celebrate a Black Mass, sacrifice live animals and drink their blood, and give homage to Satan our glorious king, Christians all over the world are helping us by having Halloween parties and dressing up as devils, goblins and witches. With them unknowingly supporting our cause for evil, his power is multiplied.”

To me this seems like empty boasting. Yes, the devil is real. The power of evil is real, lurking both “out there” and inside each of us. We must be aware of real satanic cults who abuse animals or children for ritual purposes, especially on October 31.
Does this mean that Christians should cringe in fear and not celebrate Halloween? I think it means we should celebrate the day even more as the Christians’ “biggest laugh” on Satan and his cults! When we celebrate Halloween, we do not support Satan’s “cause for evil.” We celebrate the power of the Risen Christ who overcame the devil and the power of evil, the power of fear and death.

Our faith assures us of this. Psalm 91 insists that we “not fear the terror of the night…not the pestilence that roams in darkness…No evil shall befall you…For to his angels he has given command about you, that they guard you in all your ways.” And we pray in the much loved 23rd Psalm: “Even though I walk in the valley of darkness I fear no evil; for you are at my side.” “Be not afraid,” we sing at Mass in one of my favorite hymns. “Be not afraid, I go before you, come, follow me.”

Throughout his Good News, Jesus reminds us again and again that we need not fear, but nowhere more eloquently than in his Last Supper discourse: “Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God still, and trust in me….Do not be afraid…. The prince of this world is on his way. He has no power over me…. I have told you all this so that you may find peace in me. In the world you will have trouble, but be brave: I have conquered the world” (John 14:1, 27, 30; 16:33).

St. Teresa once said that she was more afraid of people who were afraid of the devil than she was of the devil himself! Me, too. I’m more concerned about people who are afraid of Halloween because of satanic influences that I am of those influences.

When we dress like a red devil on Halloween, we do not empower Satan but mock him as a silly little imp who cringes and whimpers in the presence of Jesus like the Gadarene demoniacs: “What do you want with us, Son of God? Have you come here to torture us…?” (Mt. 9:29). When we dress like ghosts or skeletons, we mock death because we believe that Christ has conquered and reversed death by rising from the tomb, as we, too, shall be raised from the dead. We laugh with St. Paul: “Death is swallowed up in victory. Death, where is your victory? Death, where is your sting?” (1Cor. 15:55).

The Laughter of Christ

In his tiny book, The Humor of Christ, Quaker writer Elton Trueblood inspires us with the proper Christian attitude towards Halloween, though he did not have Halloween specifically in mind:

“Any alleged Christianity which fails to express itself in [joy], at some point, is clearly spurious. The Christian is [joyful], not because he is blind to injustice and suffering, but because he is convinced that these, in the light of the divine sovereignty, are never ultimate….Though he can be sad, and often is perplexed, he is never really worried. The well-known humor of the Christian is not a way of denying the tears, but rather a way of affirming something which is deeper than tears.

Far from laughter being incompatible with anguish, it is often the natural expression of deep pain….’Terror’, says Samuel Taylor Coleridge, ‘is closely connected with the ludicrous; the latter is the common mode by which the mind tries to emancipate itself from terror. The laugh is rendered by nature itself the language of extremes, even as tears are.’ It is not possible to have genuine humor or true wit without an extremely sound mind, which is always a mind capable of high seriousness and a sense of the tragic….Kierkegaard echoed this conclusion when he said that the comic and the tragic touch each other at the absolute point of infinity.”

This spirit of Christian comedy, laughter, and joy makes me celebrate Halloween as an Easter in the autumn! Christ is risen from the dead. As St. John Chrysostom said in his Easter Sermon: “Now hell is a joke, finished, done with.” As we hear in the Easter Exsultet: “Christ has conquered! Glory fills you! Darkness vanishes forever! Rejoice, O Mother Church! Exult in glory! The risen Savior shines upon you!”

According to St. Augustine, “We are an Easter people, and our song is alleluia!” (Note all the exclamation points here.) Tom Renaud describes the same triumph in one of his Easter songs:

“Love is risen from the tomb of pain
Love is risen from the cross of shame
Love is risen from the dragon’s den
Love can never die again.”

Smiling Jack

I’ve finally come to understand why I love jack-o’-lanterns so much, especially the smiling ones. Jack represents the risen Christ! Jack is Jesus! I’m haunted by Halloween because it’s Easter! More lines from Tom’s music express this mystery:

Now the laughter of the risen Lord,
Comes like the flash of a sword….
Now the singing of a single man,
Can smash the stranglehold of death’s dark hand….
In the light of morning, his laughter cracked the sky;
It echoes through the ages, and his reign will never die.

The jack-o’-lantern proclaims the Resurrection. The jack-o’-lantern glows with light in the darkness because Jesus is the “Morning Star who came back from the dead,” the Light of the world, “the lamp of endless day.” The jack-o’-lantern may well be that villainous Irish rogue or other lost souls wandering in the dark, but Jack-Jesus brings them into the light of his fiery sacred heart where they find rest, as we say in our most popular prayer for the dead: “Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord, and may perpetual light shine upon them.”

This is the depth we celebrate on Halloween when we dress up in costumes and party or go trick-or-treating, when we light roaring bonfires, when we carve pumpkins, make jack-o’-lanterns and fill them with the light of Christ. So a jack-o’-lantern candle sits on my desk all year round, not only because I love Halloween, but because it has profoundly Christic significance.

Livelihood and the Spiritual Journey Dialogue

Sreedevi Bringi, Rabbi Tirzah Firestone, Father Alan Hartway, Stephen Hatch, Pir Netanel Miles-Yépez, and Acharya Judith Simmer-Brown, hosted by Roland Cohen

The sixth and final event of the 2014 Awake in the World Conference was an interreligious dialogue (hosted by the Shambhala Mountain Center and Naropa University on October 24th, 2014) in which six representatives of different religious paths engaged in dialogue on "Livelihood and the Spiritual Journey."


A Review of Manning Marable’s Malcolm X: A Life of Reinvention

By Alice McCutcheon

For students of the life of Malcolm X, Manning Marable’s acclaimed yet controversial 2011 publication titled Malcolm X: A Life of Reinvention is undoubtedly a must-read. Lauded by critics as a major literary and historical achievement, Marable’s biography of Malcolm X was awarded the Pulitzer Prize for History in 2012. The book is based on extensive scholarly research that includes information from personal interviews with Malcolm’s associates, Nation of Islam recordings, archived collections, and government files. Chronicling the life of Malcolm X from birth to death against the backdrop of early black activism and the civil rights movement, this book provides insight into both Malcolm’s life and the social forces that shaped him. 

As a professor of African-American Studies, Marable is highly regarded as a historian and as an authority on black history. In addition to having published fifteen books, he edited thirteen books and published more than four hundred articles in academic journals and related publications.[1] Utilizing over one thousand documents, Marable’s biography of Malcolm X is well written and well researched, providing an objective, historical look at a highly controversial figure in twentieth century American history. In this work, the author primarily presents events as they occurred, inserting commentary only where facts differ from information in Malcolm X’s autobiography and where documented information (by implication) points to a logical conclusion. By limiting commentary and personal observations mainly to the Prologue and Epilogue, Marible allows readers to formulate their own opinions about the many topics in this book. If A Life of Reinvention has any drawbacks, it is in the amount of time required to read such an extensive text and in the fact that it has some redundancy. Being chronologically structured, however, redundancy cannot be avoided. The author would have been remiss had he glossed over certain events simply because they repeated themselves. 

As the title of this book indicates, Marable views Malcolm X’s life as one of repeated reinvention. In chronological sequence, he details the early years of Malcolm Little’s life and the events that later transformed him from Malcolm Little to Malcolm X and ultimately to El-Hajj Malik El-Shabazz. This book’s structure is based on specific time periods with some chapters spanning several years and other chapters limited to either months or days. The text provides a comprehensive look at Malcolm’s early years with his family, his teenage years of petty crime, his conversion to the Nation of Islam (NOI) while in prison, and his subsequent impact on the NOI as its National Minister.  It additionally details major events in his later adult life, including his trips to Africa and the Middle East; his relationships with important Muslim officials; his break with the Nation of Islam and his conversion to orthodox Islam; his influence on dogmatic changes within the NOI; and events leading up to and including his assassination.

In this work, Marable seeks to separate the iconic Malcolm from the historical Malcolm, asserting that the latter has been “strangled by the iconic legend that has been constructed around him.”[2] In order to achieve this separation, Marable first critically deconstructed The Autobiography of Malcolm X[3] and subsequently historically reconstructed the details of Malcolm’s life. During this process, Marable came to view Malcolm’s autobiography as “a brilliant literary work, but more of a memoir than a factual and objective reconstruction”[4] of his life. Marable addresses Malcolm’s relationship with his co-author Alex Haley and reveals previously unknown information regarding the book’s format, structure, and publication. He additionally explores the book’s trajectory and its role in shaping Malcolm’s iconographic status.

Comparing and contrasting Malcolm’s autobiography with historical documents, Marable notes an absence of information regarding the Organization of Afro-American Unity (OAAU) in the autobiography and inconsistencies in names, dates, and facts. Of special note are Marable’s assertions that  Malcolm inflated certain aspects of his past as Detroit Red in order to shape his public image while simultaneously omitting information that, had it been known, would have resulted in his arrest on an old warrant.[5] More controversial are Marable’s assertions that Malcolm was involved in an extra-marital affair immediately prior to his death[6] and that Malcolm’s description of Rudy’s homosexual relationship with William Paul Lennon was actually a description of his own relationship with Lennon.[7] Based in part on these last two statements, Marable’s book was severely criticized by members of the black community and provoked many rebuttals. In 2012, the same year in which Marable posthumously won the Pulitzer Prize, A Lie of Reinvention: Correcting Manning Marable’s Malcolm X was published. This book is a compilation of critical essays of Marable’s biography of Malcolm X, some of which go so far as to challenge Marable’s credibility as a historian, alleging flaws in accuracy, scholarship, and citations.[8]

Because Malcolm X: A Life of Reinvention is structured as it is, readers wanting to know about the Nation of Islam will have to read most of the book. Information on the Nation of Islam is not fully described in a discreet section of the text, being presented instead as pieces of information contextually woven into the events of Malcolm’s life. While this can be a bit cumbersome and confusing for readers, it is not unmanageable. Information on orthodox Islam is more easily accessible as it is presented in relation to Malcolm’s conversion. However, this information is primarily focused on the Islamic tenets regarding equality among races, required prayer practice, and the mandatory pilgrimage to Mecca, known as the Hajj. Readers wanting to compare NOI dogma with the teachings of orthodox Islam are compelled to read the entire book and do their own comparison. Readers who are looking for information on Islam are advised to seek out reputable books that present a more thorough picture of Islam’s history and traditions.

One of the most intriguing sections of this book revolves around the period of Malcolm’s life following his conversion to orthodox Islam and his break with the Nation of Islam. Although this section of the book is relatively brief, Marable provides ample information that Malcolm was undergoing a significant psychological and personal transition at the time of his assassination.  This period of his life certainly invites further study.

As a post-script to Malcolm’s life, this book provides follow-ups on a diverse collection of people who figured in Malcolm’s life and/or in his death. Referring to the years following his assassination, Marable discloses information on Malcolm’s wife and family members, close associates, and prominent figures such as Elijah Muhammad and Louis Farrakhan. Among others, he additionally reports on lesser known figures including both the alleged and convicted assassins and the NYPD detective who surveilled Malcolm X for the last two years of his life. In this section, Marable also recounts the series of murders and violent events that occurred after Malcolm’s death and changes to the NOI following Elijah Muhammad’s death.

Although this period of history may be deemed closed by many, this is not the end of Malcolm’s story. Part of the information disclosed in the latter part of this book points to possible connections between the NOI and law enforcement agencies, with implications regarding Malcolm’s death. Having relied heavily on information that became available only years after Malcolm’s death for the writing of this book, Marable points out that in the future “more definitive judgments will be made”[9] about various connections between key individuals when additional law enforcement files are made available years from now. Until such time as history is again rewritten, however, Malcolm X: A Life of Reinvention presents a well-documented and fascinating portrayal of a man whose life, ideology, and political vision continue to impact diverse peoples not only in America but around the world.


Notes

[1].  Manning Marable. Malcolm X: A Life of Reinvention.  New York:  Viking, Published by the Penguin Group, 2011. 593-594.

[2].  Ibid., 490.

[3].  Malcolm X and Alex Haley.  The Autobiography of Malcolm X.  New York: Ballantine, 1999.

[4].  Marable, 491.

[5].  Ibid., 11, 63-65.

[6].  Ibid., 394.

[7].  Ibid., 66. A successful businessman, Lennon often hired male secretaries to work at his home. Malcolm worked for Lennon in 1944 as a “butler and occasional house worker”. He also corresponded with Lennon from prison. 

[8].  Jared A. Ball, “An Introduction to a Lie,” in A Lie of Reinvention: Correcting Manning Marable’s Malcolm X, ed. Jared A. Ball and Todd Steven Burroughs.  (Baltimore, MD:   Black Classic Press, 2012). Kindle version, no page number given, accessed April 4, 2014, at http://www.amazon.com/Lie-Reinvention-Correcting-Manning-Marables/dp/1574780492/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1396638046&sr=1-1&keywords=a+lie+of+reinvention+correcting+manning+marable%E2%80%99s+malcolm+x

[9].  Marable, 478.


The Religion of Spirituality

Netanel Miles-Yépez

"The Tower of Babel" by Pieter Breugel the Elder c. 1653

"The Tower of Babel" by Pieter Breugel the Elder c. 1653

In 1949, Max Zeller, a disciple of the visionary psychotherapist, Dr. Carl Jung, came to Jung with a dream he could not understand. In the dream, he saw a “temple of vast dimensions” under construction. As far as he could see, in every direction, there were multitudes of people participating in the building of the temple. Though the temple was only in its beginning stages, the foundation had already been laid, and he was himself working on a pillar. Hearing this, Jung simply nodded and said, “this is the temple we are all building today.” It is “the new religion.” We don’t know all the builders, of course, because they are “in India and China and in Russia, and all over the world.” But “this new religion will come together.”[1]

This is what Jung believed. The problem for us is that the process has only just begun, and we do not yet know what shape it will take or how it can help us. Looking at the rubble of the past and the chaotic building-site of the present, many people today—both spiritually-inclined and secular—are understandably declaring “the end of religion.” But what neither seems to understand is that religion cannot die unless we, as human beings, somehow cease to feel and long for that indefinable, ineffable awareness of the sacred to which religion is merely a response. Until that happens, we will continue to reach out to the sacred, and we will use religion to get it. The real question is, what kind of religion will we use to access the sacred? Will we continue to use the old religions of the past, whether in their conventional or mystical forms? Will we evolve and participate in new hyphenated fusions of traditions like Christian Zen or Sufi-Hasidism? Or will we embrace a greater religion of spirituality, as some are already suggesting?

I think the simple answer is, ‘Yes.’

Until fairly late in the 20th-century, no matter where you might find yourself on the map, you were likely to live in a more or less homogenous culture, where most people were ‘like you’ in language, race and religion. If you knew anything about another religion, you probably viewed it as something inferior. But today, we live in a world where cultures are increasingly bumping up against one another, and where religions are learning to co-exist. Today, we find that our neighbors are Hindu, and our co-workers Muslim. In almost every metropolitan area, we have access to Yoga classes, Buddhist meditation, Hindu satsangs, Muslim Sufi dhikrs, Christian Centering Prayer groups, and Jewish Renewal services. Living in this spiritual marketplace, in a time when many of us find ourselves cut-off from the religions of our birth, and with almost every religious possibility within reach, some are asking, “How do we choose between them?” Nevertheless, my sense is that this is not actually the question they want to ask; I think they are bewildered at having to make a choice at all . . . Indeed, I don’t think they want to choose anymore.

In the Jewish mystical tradition, the expulsion from Eden is characterized as the loss of the primal unity. Having eaten the fruit of the eitz ha’da'at, or ‘tree of knowledge,’ humanity suddenly found itself cast headlong into the world of separation, into a world devoid of the sacred, in which we could only see the differences between things.[2] But in the last century, we have again eaten the fruit of the tree of knowledge—of other cultures and religions—and found, paradoxically, that we are really one people, one body, whose needs are the concern of all.

Our current access to all the religions of the planet is slowly (or perhaps quickly) putting an end to the myth of religious superiority, the view we call ‘triumphalism.’ But something else is happening as well. It is also eroding the clearly definable boundaries of our current religions, giving many the feeling that there is no longer any particular reason to be exclusively wedded to one religion or another. Many people no longer want to be boxed-in to any one tradition. Having had access to them all, and having seen the unique tools and beauty of each, who can believe that any one of them has all the answers anymore?

Given this awareness, which religion you choose really becomes a matter of emphasis and individual need. For a tall person, a ladder with rungs far apart is preferable, while a shorter person obviously prefers one with rungs set closer together. Still, both are ladders, and both are designed to facilitate access to higher regions. In the same way, religions have all developed the same basic tools to deliver an experience of the sacred, but each has a different emphasis and uses these tools in different ways, just as the ladder is used for different jobs. What the spiritual seeker is able to do today, which is different than through most of our past, is choose which religion (or even which aspect of a religion) is most suitable to their needs, their purpose, and their abilities.

Over the last forty or fifty years, the gradual dawning of this awareness of personal choice has led to an interesting evolutionary phenomenon, one I like to call, “hyphenated religion.”[3] With all the jostling and bumping up against one another that happens in the universe, new relationships are bound to form, just as atoms gain and lose electrons, or different chemical compounds are formed in seemingly random interactions. In the world of religion, such interactions have led to the development of hyphenated loyalties—Christian priests who have become recognized Zen roshis or Vedantic swamis, rabbis who have become Sufi sheikhs or embraced a more shamanic form of Judaism. Today, there is hardly anyone who doesn’t have some kind of ‘hyphen,’ whether they be dedicated Christians devoted to Jungian psychology or resolved atheists to Yoga practice, couples learning to handle the demands of inter-marriage or individuals integrating dual cultural identities. So why should it be any different with religions? Although there is certainly an element of choice at work here, it is also clearly an evolutionary process, the planet mashing things together, as it always has, creating new forms of life and a healthy diversity for itself.

But this phenomenon of hyphenated religion is just the beginning of a larger process. Each hyphen must, in time, join to form a part of the mortise-and-tenon construction of the temple of the new religion, described in the dream of Jung’s disciple. In this process, the magisterium—the body of spiritual teachings, lore, rituals and techniques—of each individual religion must, in the interaction with other religious traditions, begin to ‘surrender electrons’ and form a new magisterium that “transcends and includes” both.[4] The process will go on, contributing to and eventually forming a greater magisterium of all religions, where the myths and practices of each will become the rightful inheritance of all. In this sense, it will be a true religion of humanity, though I believe it will be defined as the religion of spirituality, with these basic values:

The religion of spirituality will recognize the centrality of the spiritual, valuing it above religion, which must serve exclusively as a cultivator of spiritual awareness. The religion of spirituality will be comprised of the magisteria of all religions and unified by the primordial mysterium at the heart of all. It will recognize the call of the spirit as the source of all previous religions, and will utilize the deep structures of religion, made clear by comparative analysis, as the catalyzing basis for further spiritual evolution. The distinctively nuanced teachings and practices of independently developed magisteria will continue to serve the needs of individuals and their unique spiritual orientations from within the greater, unified magisterium of the religion of spirituality.

Why is “the new religion” to be defined by spirituality? Because the ‘spiritual but not religious’ have declared it so. They have made it clear that spirituality is more important than religion. What they have not yet discovered is what to do about it; for doing is the territory of religion. Religion is the tool that allows us to access the spirit with regularity, to catalyze growth and spiritual maturity, to accomplish spiritual awakening and transformation. Thus, religion in the future must be the handmaiden of spirituality. One is clearly the servant of the other, though both are essential ingredients. Over time, these two ingredients—the deep structures of religion and heart-essence of spirituality—will be extracted from the individual religions, making a religion not of the Buddha or the Christ, not of the mind or the heart, but of Humanity and Wholeness, the parts and nuances of each the inheritance of all, a reflection of the primordial human archetype, Adam Kadmon, as it is called in the Jewish mystical tradition.

This is my conviction. But it is also clear to me that we are not there yet, and won’t be for a very long time. It is not enough to have a vision of the future and theoretical access to the ‘Greater Magisterium of the Religion of Spirituality.’ We must also understand those deeper structures of religion, the basic technology of how religion works to accomplish spiritual transformation, and put that understanding into practice over a long period of experimentation. Actual understanding will come slowly, organically. We are only beginning to understand what it means to have commitments in more than one tradition. We still don’t have a firm grasp on how one balances and honors each without making one or both anemic. And what will be the role of the old traditions in a universal structure which must, over time, make them all less relevant? How painful will the descent into a lesser degree of relevance be, and how will we deal with the inevitable reactions of violence, which we are already witnessing? Our questions still far outnumber our answers.

After Jung had interpreted the dream of the temple of “the new religion,” his student, Zeller, asked him if he knew how long it would take to build. Jung answered without hesitation, “About six hundred years.” “Where do you know this from?” Zeller asked. “From other people's dreams and from my own.”[5] Did he mean, six hundred years in transition to the new religion, or six hundred years for that religion to reach its peak? And what does it mean that the foundation has already been laid?

However we interpret the dream, three things are clear: our current religions will continue for a long time yet; they will evolve and begin to hyphenate; and the great experiment of the religion of spirituality will proceed, slowly creating the structures of spiritual practice that will define it as a true incubator for spiritual transformation. For this is what is lacking today, and the reason we must bear with the slow evolutionary process.

(Part three of a three-part series on The Religion of Spirituality.)

 

Notes

[1] Max Zeller, The Dream: The Vision of the Night, ed. Janet Dallett, Los Angeles: The Analytical Psychology Club of Los Angeles, 1975:2.

[2] Actually, the ‘tree of the knowledge of good and evil,’ etz ha-da'at tov va-ra, Genesis 2-3.

[3] After similar usage by Zalman Schachter-Shalomi, who often referred to the hyphen connecting a person to more than one religious commitment.

[4] A phrase used by philosopher Ken Wilber in his descriptions of holarchies.

[5] Zeller, The Dream, 2.