Church of the Churchless

Is there anything wrong with life?

More and more, I'm wondering if the biggest problem with life is believing that life is a problem. Personally, I just don't see how there could be anything wrong with Life as a whole, capital "L" version.

Yet religions tell us that there is.

Christianity speaks of original sin, and of a fall from God's good graces. Similar teachings are found in Islam and Judaism. Buddhism informs us that life is suffering. In Hinduism, the everyday world is maya, illusion, not the place a psyche wants to be.

The root of "religion" is relegare, which denotes a binding back to God. Which, of course, wouldn't be possible unless there had been a previous loosening -- a distancing from divinity that now makes life (and a supposed afterlife) a lot less pleasant.

Yet where is the evidence for this? Show me the problem with Life. Sure, there are lots of discrete problems I, and everyone else, has to deal with.

But let's consider how something becomes a "problem." Seemingly it is when an actual state of affairs doesn't match up with a desired optimal state of affairs.

My TV won't turn on. I'd like it to. Now I have a problem. It used to work. Now it doesn't. Problem!

What, though, would lead me to conclude that Life as a whole has a problem? There's nothing to contrast Life with, no perfectly functioning alternative state of existence that would cause me to say, "Oh, that's how Life is supposed to work."

I've spent quite a bit time with some people -- gurus and advanced disciples -- who supposedly were well on their way, if not entirely there, to a spiritual realm of being. I've seen videos of the Dalai Lama and other religious leaders, such as the Pope.

None of them show any sign of having left this Life behind. Each appeared to be solidly human, with strengths and weaknesses, just as we all are.

Still, most people on Earth have bought into the religious notion that Life (with a capital "L") is a problem begging to be solved. By faith, revelation, surrender to God/Guru, meditation, spiritual practice, or some other means.

True believers often say, "A teacher is needed to learn everything else in life. Religion is no different." Well, yes it is.

I accept that my dance instructor can teach me her skills because I can see her dancing a lot better than I can. But where is the evidence that someone can Life better than the rest of us? This is what religions claim -- that LIfe itself, as lived by us now, is the problem with our lives.

And we need to be saved, enlightened, or otherwise raised into a whole other form of Life. Which, however, is nowhere to be seen. Only conceptualized in religious dogma.

I've been enjoying the blog dialogue that began with a comment by OshoRobbins on this post on May 23. He pretty much made the same point: that there is no place to get to on a spiritual or religious path.

Life is Life. This is it. There is no place to go, and no one else to be, except where and who we are -- human beings living our earthly lives.

If we ever are living some other form of existence, that will be obvious. Until then, which likely will be never, it's senseless to imagine that there is a problem with Life because it doesn't match up with some abstract hypothetical state of affairs.

Heaven. Nirvana. Paradise. Whatever.

On another post, I said:

If we have a real self that has been covered up by gobs of illusory ego-crap, then our goal should be to restore that divine cosmic gem to its original shining glory. However, what if our problem is believing there's a problem with our self?

Same reasoning applies to LIfe as a whole. What if our problem is believing there's a problem with Life?

Danes and Swedes are some of the happiest people on Earth. Most of them don't obsess over the meaning of life. They simply live life, enjoyably. Ditto with citizens of other Scandinavian countries, which are minimally religious.

So the next time you think, as most of us do, "I've got to figure out what life is all about," try telling yourself: "No, you don't."

Duhism -- even more useless than Taoism (but funnier)

The Tao works in mysterious ways. Mostly, for me, through the Internet. If ultimate truth ever speaks to me, I figure it will be via my MacBook.

So I smiled sagely -- my natural expression -- when I clicked on an email that informed me Bob Tzu now was following me on Twitter.

Twitter etiquette demanded that I take a look at Bob's page to see if his Tweets were interesting enough to make me want to follow him.

Which, they were. Bob Tzu had me at...

Ignorance may not really be bliss... but it'll do in a pinch.
Tomorrow, I will live in the present.
Little things add up. If every day u found just 1 penny, after a 1 year you'll only need to borrow $1.05 for a Venti Frappuccino.
If you want to be respected by others, start by respecting yourself, and then give them money and flatter them for no reason.

Nice. I felt pleasantly de-enlightened already.

That feeling got strengthened with a visit to the Duhism web site. There I learned that while Bob Tzu's birthday is between 1962 and 390 BC, his writings only extend back three months.

So it didn't take me long to absorb the essence (heck, for all I know, the whole shebang) of Duhism. For obvious reasons, to me this seemed to be the most important teaching.

My cousin Lao Tzu says the Tao that can be told is not the real Tao.
It's the same with The Duh.
The real Duh cannot be spoken. Only blogged and Tweeted.

Realizing that I'd found a source of spiritual wisdom that is as attuned to the almighty "Who the hell knows?" as the crap I write, I downloaded for free The Duh of Success.

The price was a bit steep, given what I learned from the book.

But it was nice to be able to start reading it at 9:24 am and be done by 9:25 am. I like my cosmic wisdom to come fast and hard, which is one of the more unintentionally erotic lines I've written recently.

Since my personal path to de-enlightenment is firmly founded on a t-shirt base (see here and here), I was pleased to find that Bob Tzu's web site had a link to some great t-shirt wisdom.

Lastly, remember...

The Universe hears your every wish, and wonders why you can't hear it replying, "Uhhh… no."

Buddhism and Taoism deconstruct religion

Even when I was young, a pre-teen, I was attracted to Taoist and Buddhist imagery. During my first visit to San Francisco's Chinatown at about the age of twelve, I bought a bunch of scrolls and artwork showing sages wandering on misty mountain paths.

Where the heck did that immediate attraction for a philosophy I knew nothing about come from? I have no idea. But it was a premonition of things to come.

Because now my churchlessness has evolved to the point where Taoist and Buddhist writings are just about the only kind of spiritual literature that my psyche can stomach. And even with these genres, occasionally I get turned off by excessive dogmatism.

On the whole, though, philosophical Buddhism and Taoism are pleasantly compatible with a churchless frame of mind.

The book I've been blogging about recently (see here and here) helps explain why.

Jim Powell's "Deconstruction for Beginners" contains a nice description of how Taoism and Buddhism undermined the traditional religiosity of Hinduism and other logocentric faiths.

I like Powell's way of saying things so well, I'll let quotes from his book speak for his point of view and not try to paraphrase him. Here he talks about the first Hindu skeptics who appeared in what is now India.

They began to question everything Hindu. In fact, sometimes they would eat the flesh of dead men or would meditate atop a corpse. And instead of chanting Om, and instead of seeking for Brahman -- the essence of everything -- they began to question if anything has an essence -- if Brahman even exists. They questioned everything -- using riddles.

And from among this group of skeptics emerged a young prince, Siddartha Gotama, who was to become known as the Buddha. The Hindus had believed that the soul or Atma was identical with Brahman or God, and that it was eternal. But Buddha taught that all things are impermanent, and that there is no soul.

...Buddha paved the way for Asia's greatest Indian philosopher, who was to be called "The Second Buddha." His name was Nagarjuna, and many modern scholars have found that his philosophy has much in common with Derrida's "deconstruction."

Powell then discusses this familiar optical illusion. Is it a white cup? Or two black faces?

The important point is that we cannot see both the cup and the faces simultaneously. Each image appears to possess svabhava or self-essence. Each image appears to be a self-sufficent, self-existent, discrete image. But they don't possess self-essence!

There is an intimate, subtle relationship between the faces and the cup. One cannot exist without the other. They depend on each other. According to Nagarjuna, we tend to think in terms of such dichotomies (or binary opposites).

For instance, the Hindus thought the Universe is made of up of this pair: (1) An eternal spiritual Self (Atman or Brahman) and (2) a Non-Self, made up of Matter. This fundamental dichotomy lies at the basis of all Hindu experience. But the Buddhist will say that neither the Self nor the Non-Self is substantial.

A fundamentalist Christian or Muslim will also think in terms of such dichotomies. He will claim that only his religion is true, and that every other religion is myth or of the devil. As Derrida and Nagarjuna have shown, we tend to form these dichotomies (binary opposites) and to favor one member of the pair. Either Christian or Muslim.

But the cup and the faces are not separate. Each image is in a subtle and intimate relationship with its hidden partner. Though they cannot be seen at the same time, neither of them exists alone. Neither of them possesses svabhava or self-existence.

In fact you could say that they are Empty of Self-existence. This does not mean that they don't exist, or that they don't appear. Emptiness just means that the illusion of their separateness is a mirage.

...Ordinary people are like the magician's audience. They assume that everything has self-existence. They become emotionally and intellectually attached to the "things" they perceive. Thus, most people see only the ordinary level of truth (samvritisatya).

Those who see the Emptiness of things are like the magician -- he sees the same things, but from a different point of view. He knows that things are empty of a fixed, self-existent nature. He simply perceives things accurately. Thus he sees the Ultimate level of truth (para-marthasatya).

And even the concept of these two levels of truth is empty of self-existence! For if you cling to the concept of an Ultimate Truth, then IT becomes the lower, Conventional Truth!

Then Powell talks about someone -- Coyote, say -- gazing into a pool of water and seeing his own image, but thinking that it is the real unreflected Coyote.

But then you suddenly realize that the reflection is not what it appears to be. This does not mean the reflection does not exist. The reflection now seems to be an illusion only because you had believed it was the real you.

But now you know that the reflection in the pool does not have self-existence. After all, the reflection depends upon the pool, the eyes, mind and presence of the real Coyote. But this doesn't mean that you abandon the reflection. It is still useful to you for admiring yourself, etc.

The reflection is like the Lower Conventional Truth. And realizing it is only a reflection, devoid of self-existence, is like the Higher Truth. According to Nagarjuna, everything in the world is like the reflection of the mirror.

Taoism gets less attention than Buddhism in Powell's book. The deconstructive power of Taoist teachings is just as great, however, because Taoist sages similarly clear away dualistic oppositions that clog up human minds.

There isn't any room for conventional religious dichotomies -- body/soul, God/man, heaven/earth, virtue/sin -- in Chuang Tzu.

Nothing exists which is not "that," nothing exists which is not "this." I cannot look at something through someone else's eyes. I can only truly know something which I know. Therefore "that" comes out of "this" and "this" arises from "that." That is why we say that "that" and "this" are born from each other, most definitely.

Compare birth with death, compare death with life; compare what is possible with what is not possible and compare what is not possible with what is possible; because there is, there is not, and because there is not, there is.

...When "this" and "that" do not stand against each other, this is called the pivot of the Tao. This pivot provides the center of the circle, which is without end, for it can react equally to that which is and to that which is not.

...To use a finger to show that a finger is not a finger, is not really as good as using something that is not a finger to show that a finger is not a finger; to use a horse to show a horse is not a horse is not as good as using something other than a horse to show that a horse is not a horse.

Heaven and Earth are as one as finger is, and all of creation is as one as a horse is.

Logocentrism isn't cool for the churchless

Wow, this blog is rocketing upward in philosophical sophistication. After putting up a post where I used the word "deconstruction" as many times as I could, now I've got "logocentrism" in a title.

My inspiration, as before, is a wonderful philosophy comic book by Jim Powell, "Deconstruction for Beginners" (which I surely am).

The basic notion of logocentrism, which is a bad, bad, bad thing to Jacques Derrida, the father of deconstruction, is sort of hard to pin down -- which is to be expected from a philosophical approach that dismantles the foundation of meaning.

Here's a pretty good brief description.

1. Belief that at the origin of the whole existence there are abstract “ truths” which are organized in absolute categories. They exist only in the divine Mind and Word, and we can reach them only using language.

2. Ellis: illusion that the meaning of a word has its origin in very structure of reality and from this reason the truth regarding that structure seems to directly appear in our mind.

So if you're logocentric, you believe that Truth with a capital "T" exists in some elevated realm of the cosmos, and human beings can know this Logos directly, nothing standing in between us and reality pure, plain, and simple.

Religiosity is based on logocentrism. So is fundamentalism.

Ditto for the commenters on this blog who are supremely confident that they know what is metaphysically true, and other deluded souls, such as yours truly, don't. 

It seems then, that churchlessness and logocentrism don't get along very well. Here's some excerpts from Deconstruction from Beginners that cast more light on the subject, in the form of a dialogue between Mark Twain and some other characters.

Twain: Well what is logocentrism?

Uma: It is a term coined by Jacques Derrida. Let me give an example: The Glorious Glorious Bliss of God's Phallus, and all of traditional HIndu culture, believes that there is a Divine Word or Logos dwelling at the very Center of the entire Universe!

That word is "Om." He feels certainty because he feels this Divine Word will guarantee the truth of everything he speaks. It's like the Word of the Law in the law books that the traffic cop depends upon when he gives you a ticket for not stopping at the stop sign.

Twain: Well isn't that just like the Christian belief that the Divine Word or Logos dwells at the very basis of creation?

Uma: Yes, so you see, logocentrism exists in both the West and the East.

Twain: What else does a logocentric attitude imply?

Uma: Logocentrism also means that our own consciousness can perceive the world so intimately that there is nothing in between our consciousness and the world.

The Glorious Glorious Bliss of God's Phallus: In my infinite awareness I see the world purely. The world is fully present to my infinite consciousness.

Uma: And also, logocentrism implies that awareness can be fully present to itself, can know itself nakedly.

The Glorious Glorious Bliss of God's Phallus: In my mystical state of bliss my inner awareness swims within itself -- knowing itself -- and knowing that the mystical vibration of Om dwells at the basis of my entire Universe.

Uma: This type of thinking Derrida calls onto-theology. It is a theology of Being.

The Glorious Glorious Bliss of God's Phallus: Out of the full presence of my pure consciousness flow my thoughts. From my thoughts flows my speech. And from my speech flow my writings. (Although I never write, but leave it to my stupid, unenlightened disciples to write down what I say -- because writing is dirty, slimy, and perverted.

Powell goes on to point out that deconstruction "deconstructs notions of an absolute origin -- an origin from which other things are derived."

And that "all these desires for a fixed Center are desires for a secure, stable presence that will form a strong, certain foundation for belief systems."

What I found most interesting about the dialogue above is something I hadn't thought much about before: that Eastern or mystical belief systems which presuppose that human consciousness can merge with a Cosmic Principle are as logocentric as the Western religions which posit God as the rock-solid foundation of creation.

Certainty is the common denominator, a belief that ultimate truth can be known so intimately by a human consciousness, the words of Truth Knowers can be trusted.

Well, maybe. Me, I doubt it. There's no good answer to a question posed in Powell's book.

Twain: So the Centrism part of the phallocentrism thing is as ornery as the Phallo part?

Uma: Absolutely! In fact, people in almost every culture cherish their own idea of a sacred Center to the universe. For the Buddhists, the Buddha is at the Center. For Christians it is the Word of God, Christ. For a Swahili, it is Bumba. But for the Glorious Glorious Bliss of God's Phallus, it is the Phallus-Egg itself and the hum of Om!

Coyote: How can Christ, Bumba, Om, Yahweh, Allah, Buddha and Krishna all be the Center of the Universe??!!

Attempted answers welcomed. Believable answer not expected.

How to judge a "science of the soul"

Quite a few mystical, meditational, and spiritual entities (organizations or individuals) claim to teach a science of the soul. See, for example, here, here, here, and here.

My previous post about the scientific method stimulated some pondering: how would a science of the soul go about trying to discover what, if anything, lies beyond the physical human brain and material universe?

I'm assuming that "soul" refers to something metaphysical.

If not, then it doesn't make sense to speak of a science of the soul, because plain "science" would be sufficient -- plenty of researchers already are delving into how our minds work, including how meditation practices affect neurological functioning.

I like the idea of applying the scientific method to spirituality, perhaps better termed personal consciousness research, because "spiritual" is a word that has lost most of its meaning for me.

Yet based on my experience of more than thirty years with an organization that termed itself a science of the soul, I've come to realize that the scientific method typically gets short shrift in metaphysical pursuits.

Sure, the word "science" gets used a lot by gurus, teachers, authors, disciples, and others who consider that their approach to spirituality is far different from that followed by traditional religions.

Let's consider, though, what a genuine science of the soul would look like if it adhered to the scientific method as shown in this diagram.

What's most striking is the circularity of scientific investigations. Theories are continually revised as experiments and observations confirm or disconfirm predictions implied by a theory.

So if someone is engaged in a science of the soul, almost certainly he or she is going to be saying, "Interesting, I didn't know that before," a lot.

Ideas about any possible metaphysical reality are going to keep changing as direct experience replaces abstract beliefs. Conceptions that once seemed to be reasonable hypotheses will be discarded as experiments fail to confirm them, while other theories arise as better candidates for explaining the cosmos.

This is the nature of the scientific method: continual refining of what is considered to be true. Yet most so-called sciences of the soul aren't really open to having their core belief system modified.

This shows that they aren't genuinely scientific, because given the marked differences between the various science of the soul teachings, it is difficult to see how they all could be in touch with objective metaphysical truth.

Somebody -- and maybe everybody -- has got to be wrong. Yet how often do we hear a spiritual teacher or leader say about a central tenet, "I don't consider this to be true any more."

In a recent issue of The New Yorker I've been reading an article by Elizabeth Kolbert, "The Sixth Extinction?" Tag line: There have been five great die-offs in history. This time, the cataclysm is us.

Geologist Walter Alvarez and his colleagues proposed in 1980 "that a six-mile-wide asteroid had slammed into the earth, killing off not only the forams but the dinosaurs and all the other organisms that went extinct at the end of the Cretaceous."

This went against the prevailing scientific understanding of how species became extinct and was met with a lot of skepticism. Kolbert says that evidence kept accumulating in favor of Alvarez' theory over the next decade.

"Those eleven years seemed long at the time, but looking back they seem very brief," Walter Alvarez told me. "Just think about it for a moment. Here you have a challenge to a uniformitarian viewpoint that basically every geologist and paleontologist had been trained in, as had their professors and their professors' professors, all the way back to Lyell. And what you saw was people looking at the evidence. And they gradually did come to change their minds."

Beautiful. This is a big part of why I love science. Scientists change their minds! Gurus, prophets, masters, sages, Popes, and such...hardly ever.

Here's another thing, though, about a science of the soul: it can't be a communal exercise, because there is no way to tell whether another person knows anything metaphysical (see here and here). 

So the plural language at the end of the preceding quotation -- "people," "minds" -- is going to have to be "person" and "mind." Namely, you or me, if we're science of the soul practitioners.

Theoretically, I suppose it'd be possible for someone to delve into the question of what might exist apart from the physical and never change his or her mind. But it's difficult to imagine how this could be the case, since experience of a metaphysical reality is going to be much different from a mere conception of it, even if the conception is correct.

Which is my main point: if you're not continually changing your mind about what is true, and what isn't, then you're not engaged in a science of the soul.

On the other hand, if you are, "I was wrong" will be your frequent mantra.

Science is the only way of knowing objective truth

It's amusing when anti-scientific true believers get on their fundamentalist soapboxes. I've had a good time reading the nonsensical comments on my spiritual pseudo-science post.

I'll try to avoid sounding too condescending here, though I agree with biologist PZ Myers when he responded to a creationist with "I'll be condescending when condescension is deserved."

First -- and probably most importantly -- everybody uses the scientific method in their everyday lives. Otherwise it would be impossible to live any sort of normal life. So those who criticize how science works are hypocrites, unless they also are criticizing themselves.

Here's a simple depiction of the scientific method. It's a looping, circular process of Theory - Prediction - Experiment - Observation.

I try to turn on my TV. I'm met with a blank screen. What to do? I come up with some theories. Set got unplugged. I'm pressing the wrong button on the remote control. I'm holding the wrong remote. TV is broken. Power is off.

If any of these theories is correct, my prediction is that dealing with the problem will cause the TV to turn on. So I start experimenting. And observe what happens.

What I don't do is sit on the couch and say to myself, "It's God's will. Nothing I can do about it. Except pray."

I don't expect that a miracle will cause the TV to start working again. I assume that I can learn some facts and use that knowledge to, hopefully, start watching a favorite show.

Scientists simply use the same common-sense approach in a more rigorous and organized fashion, applying the scientific method to considerably more complicated subjects.

Second, note that the description above the diagram says:

The scientific method uses objective experimentation to predict, verify, or refute, an assertion made by a theory.

"Objective" means that the experiment isn't dependent on a particular subject, or person, which would make it subjective rather than objective.

It doesn't matter whether I, my wife, or a TV repairman checks the plug, remote control, circuit breakers, and such. Each of us is observing the same things, and should come up with the same results if we do the same experiment.

Which can be demonstrated to other people, another meaning of "objective." If I can't figure out what the problem is with the TV, I can call in an expert and show him what I've tried already.

"See, the plug is in. The surge protector power light is on. This is the right remote control, and other functions are working." And so on.

But obviously not everything in life has an objective quality that makes it amenable to investigation through the scientific method. This gets us to...

Third, there are subjective and objective domains of reality. So there is subjective truth, and there also is objective truth. It's ridiculous when people say, "Science can't know everything."

Well, duh.

Obviously.

Science doesn't know how the coffee I just took a sip of tastes to me. Science doesn't know how I'm feeling emotionally right now. In fact, science doesn't have a clue about anything I'm aware of, because consciousness is a subjective phenomenon.

Scientists have inner lives, just as we all do. I've read lots of science books and regularly peruse several science magazines. I spend two years working on a Ph.D. in Systems Science. I've never come across a scientist who denies the reality of subjective conscious experience.

So this is a non-issue, the claim by science skeptics that science can't know everything. It doesn't attempt to.

Scientific knowledge concerns the shared realm of objective truth where demonstrable evidence can be displayed and communicated to other people, leading to a public assessment of whether observed facts fit the prediction of some theory.

Science isn't out to deny the reality of subjective sensual impressions -- sounds, sights, tastes, feelings, odors, and such. Nor is it out to deny other private experiences that comprise the conscious reality of every person's existence.

The scientific method merely says, "If you can't show me the demonstrable evidence that supports a theory, I won't accept it as being objective truth." 

Liking strawberries more than bananas still can be your subjective truth. As can your belief in God, angels, heaven, astral travel, divination, the Eight Holy Veils of Her Most Illustrious Visage, or whatever else resides within the private confines of your psyche.

Including experiences of any or all of the above, plus any other possible subjective experience. Science just wants you to bring back some convincing evidence if you want other people to accept that your subjective experience reflects the nature of an objective reality.

Hey, that's not too much to ask, is it?

Yet for many religious true believers, it is. They want others to accept their metaphysical pronouncements -- Jesus saves, God is good, karma crushes carnivores, the soul survives bodily death -- without any evidence.

Subjective truth doesn't need evidence. If I say to you, "I like strawberries more than bananas," you're going to accept my personal like.

But if I claim, "Strawberries are tastier than bananas, so you should eat more of them," then likely I've got an argument on my hands. You'd be entirely justified in replying, "Well, maybe to you; I feel differently."

As I often say on this churchless blog, I've got no problem with "I like..." when it comes to religiosity. It's saying "I'm right..." that gets me irritated. (See my post on this subject.)

I get this image of a pick-up basketball game. A guy stands by the court, talking trash to the players.

You guys got nothing! No game at all. Shit, I could play circles around you. You'll be standing in my dust, wondering how that dunk just slammed over your candy-ass'es.

The players who are actually showing their stuff say, "Dude, come on. Show us what you've got." In this metaphor they're the scientists, the ones who want to put the guy's I'm-better-than-you theory to the test.

But he's a religious true believer.

He talks a good game, and maybe inside his head he is playing a great subjective game of basketball. However, he isn't able to show his stuff in the outside physical world where people have shared experiences.

So there's no reason to believe that he can do what he claims. The players go back to their scientific method game. If the guy ever wants to join in, great. Standing on the sideline and talking trash, though, doesn't earn any respect from those who are actually in the game.

"Quantum Gods" debunks spiritual pseudo-science

Traditional religions embrace a lot of crazy unsubstantiated beliefs. But so do modern New Agey sorts of spirituality, which often take a speck of scientific truth and try to inflate it into a grand explanation of the cosmos.

So in addition to fundamentalist dogma, we churchless types need to train our skeptical guns on targets such as the film "What the Bleep Do We Know?"

Personally, I liked this movie a lot more than, say, a speech by the Pope.

However, since I'm fairly familiar with quantum theory (in a non-mathematical sense, at least), having researched it in the course of writing a book about mysticism and the new physics, a lot of question marks were floating over my head as I watched "What the Bleep Do We Know?"

This movie claims that quantum effects carry over into everyday reality, and urges viewers to adopt a form of "quantum spirituality" that is 99% bullshit and 1% science.

Recently I finished reading physicist Victor Stenger's newest book, "Quantum Gods: Creation, Chaos, and the Search for Cosmic Consciousness." The title sort of implies a positive outcome for the search.

But Stenger is out to debunk simplistic attempts in this direction. Namely...

The first concept, which I term quantum spirituality, asserts that quantum mechanics has provided us with a connection between the human mind and the cosmos. The second concept, which I call quantum theology, argues that quantum mechanics and chaos theory provide a place for God to act in the world without violating his own natural laws.

Quantum theory is weird. Difficult to understand. Seemingly paradoxical, as when scientists tell us that photons of light can behave either as a wave or a particle depending on how they are observed.

Stenger, though, explains the science underlying quantum phenomena, showing that while quantum theory is strange, it isn't other-worldly or mystical. For example, here's an excerpt from Stenger's "Ghostbusting the Quantum" chapter.

This allows us to conclude that the basic objects, whether contained in a light beam or a beam of electrons, protons, or any other body in nature, are particles. There is no wave-particle duality. Photons are just particles.

...So, then, what is waving? What is the source of the observed interference pattern that fits what is expected for waves? That pattern is the statistical distribution of a large ensemble of individual particle detections.

...If you insist on interpreting the wave function as a "real" physical entity such as a water wave, then it moves faster than the speed of light, indeed, infinite speed, violating a basic tenet of Einstein's special theory of relativity.

However, if we accept that the wave function is just an abstract mathematical entity physicists use to compute the probability for finding a particle at a particular location in space, then there is nothing spooky about it. Abstract things can move as fast as their inventors wish.

I've wondered, "Where do the laws of nature reside?" Are they in some sort of elevated Platonic mathematical realm, or part and parcel of the universe's natural phenomena?

Stenger considers that the laws of physics are human inventions. I won't attempt to describe his reasoning that supports this conclusion, because I don't fully undertand it. Still, it fits with my churchless admiration of Mystery as the cosmos' core quality.

We try to explain the universe as best we can, whether from a scientific, religious, spiritual, or mystical perspective. But in the end, we're unable to grasp what's at The End of it all.

Mysteries can be frustrating if you think they must be explained. However, when mystery is left mysterious, until it isn't, there's much beauty in dark depths of not-knowing. So a message I got from Stenger's book is:

Let's allow science to explain only what can be genuinely understood, and not twist scientific facts in an attempt to construct indefensible models of the cosmos.

Honest questions are a lot better than fake answers, as noted in a previous post about the pseudo-science in "What the Bleep Do We Know?"

[Here's a PDF file of a New Scientist review of "Quantum Gods."]
Download Review of Quantum Gods

Evidence of Rumsfeld's Christian war

Here's a great example of how unsupported religious beliefs get mixed up with politics and foreign policy, helping lead to war:

Slides of former Bush defense secretary Donald Rumsfeld's briefings to the White House where he juxtaposed war images with inspirational Bible quotes.

Take a look.

Don't get drunk on someone else's religious intoxication

I've always wanted to talk about deconstruction in a blog post. (The philosophical variety, not the demolition kind.) My only minor problem -- which shouldn't ever stop a blogger -- is that I knew next to nothing about the subject.

But now I've read all 168 pages of "Deconstruction for Beginners," a terrific book. One of it's appealing points is that it takes a comic book style to deciphering Jacques Derrida, the father of deconstruction.

And has quite a bit of talk about sex. Including drawings of naked women.

This stuff isn't gratutious, as it contributes to understanding how deconstruction works (deciding whether to kiss a breast or another female body part is a deep philosophical act, but I'm not going to touch that or go there -- so to speak -- in this post.

For now I simply want to share an excerpt that hit home with me.

The book's author, Jim Powell, writes in the form of a dialogue between various people, including Mark Twain, a coyote, and The Glorious Glorious Bliss of God's Phallus.

Here's some of what Twain has to say:

This all reminds me of my trips to Niagara Falls. Actually, I had to visit Niagara Falls fifteen times before I succeeded in getting my imaginary Falls gauged to the actuality and could begin to sanely and wholesomely wonder at them for what they were, not what I expected them to be.

When I first approached them it was with my face lifted toward the sky, for I thought I was going to see an Atlantic ocean pouring down thence over cloud-vexed Himalayan heights, a sea-green wall of water sixty miles wide and six miles high, and so, when the toy reality came into view -- that beruffled little wet apron hanging out to dry -- the shock was too much for me, and I fell with a dull thud.

It is a mistake for a person with an unregulated imagination to go and look at an illustrious world's wonder. For when a thing is a world wonder to us it is not because of what we see in it, but because of what others have seen in it. We get almost all of our world wonders second hand.

It may be the Taj Mahal, and when you see it you cannot keep your enthusiasms down, you cannot keep your emotions within bounds when that soaring bubble of marble breaks upon your view.

But these are not your enthusiasms and emotions -- they are the accumulated emotions and enthusiasms of a thousand fervid writers, who have been slowly and steadily storing them up in your heart day by day and year by year all your life; and now they burst out in a flood and overwhelm you. And you could not be a whit happier if they were your very own.

But by and by you sober up, and then you perceive that you have been drunk on the smell of somebody else's work. You realize that "your" view of the Taj -- acquired thus at second-hand from people to whom, in the majority of cases also, acquired "their" view at second-hand -- has no origin at all!

This points at what I was getting at in "Follow your passion wherever it leads." It's easy to lose touch of what we ourselves -- that glorious conscious sense of  me, me, me which really is our sole possession -- experience.

We fall into habits of borrowing other people's ways of looking at the world. We go to a holy place, or see a holy person, or read a holy book, or meditate in a holy fashion, and believe that we should feel what others have felt.

Going against the flow of an Expectation River can be difficult. Standing at the rail overlooking Niagara Falls, listening to all the oohs and ahs, it takes a lot of deconstructive honesty to say, "Just looks like a bunch of water going over a cliff to me. Is this all there is?"

I grew up in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada mountains near California's Sequoia National Park, home of the largest tree in the world.

Driving up to see it for the first time, after my mother had told me where we were going, my seven year old mind envisioned something much grander than the reality turned out to be. I remember thinking, "This is just a big tree," when I saw the General Sherman.

That bore a lot of resemblance to my reaction when I first saw in person the guru that I followed for many years. He wasn't larger than life. Just a person.

I'd heard so many stories of how one look from the guru was soul-transforming. I didn't feel that, though I enjoyed being in his presence a lot.

It's best to live life as ourselves, not as someone else. If you're going to get drunk, let it be on what you truly find intoxicating, not another's passion.

People talk to God like a friend

Thumbing through a recent issue of New Scientist, I came upon an intriguingly titled short article: "Praying to God is like talking to a friend."

(I'll include the article in a continuation to this post, in case the link above becomes inactive.)

A brain scanner was used to see what happens when people improvised personal prayers before making requests to Santa Claus.

Improvised prayers triggered patterns that match those seen when people communicate with each other, and activated circuitry that is linked with the theory of mind -- an awareness that other individuals have their own independent motivations and intentions.

...The prefrontal cortex is key to theory of mind. Crucially, this area was inactive during the Santa Claus task, suggesting volunteers viewed Santa Claus as fictitious but God as a real individual.

Of course, this study doesn't prove anything about the existence of God. It just shows that when people pray, they believe they're communicating with an animate being.

Which helps explain why religions are so appealing to people -- particularly those that promise a personal relationship with some divine entity.

Who wouldn't want to have a best friend always available? Especially one who's omniscient, omnipresent, omnipotent, and omnibenevolent?

I used to believe that the guru who initiated me into a mystical meditation practice was part and parcel of my consciousness. Disciples were encouraged to think often about the guru during the day, and visualize his presence in their lives.

Doing that, I'd feel a warm glow of conviviality with my imaginary friend. "Imaginary," because I never actually sensed the presence of a separate non-physical being, nor were my mental conversations anything but one-sided.

I'd talk away inside my head to my guru, feeling good that I had someone who'd listen to whatever I had to say, and was totally accepting of whatever thoughts or emotions passed through my mind.

Hook me up to an MRI machine back then, and my scan results probably would have been the same of the praying people in this study.

Now, I suspect my guru talk would register more along the Santa Claus lines, because I've stopped believing in an unseen friend who hears me but doesn't speak to me.

When the phone rings in our house, I pick it up and say "Hello." Usually I hear a voice respond almost immediately. If all I hear is silence, I'll repeat my hello a few more times.

Then I hang up. It'd be crazy to keep on talking when there isn't anyone on the line. But this is just what I did for many years. And what religious believers do whenever they pray.

To keep up a one-sided conversation with someone unseen or unheard, you have to believe (1) that the other person is there, but (2) chooses to be a 100% listener rather than a talker.

For a long time I could embrace this belief. Not totally, but to a sufficient extent that I didn't feel foolish when I chatted away to my guru in thought-words. Eventually, though, I began to feel that I was merely talking to myself.

Now, each morning I begin my meditation with silently spoken words along this line:

If there's anyone out there, or in here, or wherever, who is aware of me, hi! Stop on by my consciousness. Let's get to know each other. Assuming you're nice. If you're a demon or some other nasty being, I'd just as soon that you keep to yourself.

And that's about it. I've stopped jabbering to hypothesized metaphysical beings who never respond to me. If an entity wants to strike up a conversation within my consciousness, I'm all ears.

But I'm not interested any more in being all tongue. Like the people in the study, I've done my share of talking to a divinity who I believed was really listening.

Now it's my turn to listen for a response. Which is a fine traditional way to meditate: doing one's best to empty the mind of thought talk and observing what remains, or happens next.

What I've found when I do this is that I lose a conversation with an imaginary friend. But I gain a sense of being in greater touch with reality. And that's a good trade-off.

Here's the full article:

Where the skeptical meets the mystical

The title of this post is the tag line on David Lane's web site, Neural Surfer. I like it. That's a great place to be -- the shore line of reality where skepticism shovels away the loose sand of mysticism, getting closer to a solid bedrock of truth.

Here's a sample of David's take on the subject: "Tangled Phone Lines: why Richard Dawkins hung up on Ken Wilber."

Like me, David is an initiate of Radha Soami Satsang Beas who has decided to take seriously the precept that it's possible to have a "science of the soul."

I clearly believe that mysticism can be studied scientifically. Indeed, it already has been for decades.

I don’t necessarily think that mystics and skeptics should depart company and go on their respective ways, but I do think that if they seriously communicate with each other something is bound to give. And what each side may have to give up is more than they might be willing to concede.

...if a mystic is serious about studying the subject scientifically it means that he or she may have to radically revise their understandings and prior theological dogmas about what is actually happening when they undergo a transformation of consciousness.

He uses Faqir Chand as an example. Chand was an Indian guru who was appealingly honest about his mystical powers. Or rather, non-powers.

For example, when disciples would claim that Chand had appeared to them in his "radiant form," Chand would reply that he knew nothing about this. Yet David speaks about how other gurus were reluctant to concede that mystical experiences are only within a disciple's mind, not in some sort of objective reality.

To be truly scientific, an organized religious or mystical faith has to honestly admit "These teachings could be wrong."

However, how many do so? Not many. Maybe none, in fact.

So it is necessary for anyone who wants to pursue a scientific approach to mysticism to strike out on the Reality Road on their own. Because organizations have a vested interest in preserving their belief system, even it is wrong.

God's goodness is absolutely nothing

For the past few days I've been enamored with my "What's good about God?" question. It keeps running through my mind, particularly the answer:

Nothing.

In the comments to that post I clarified a point that might have confused some people. I didn't mean that people aren't affected -- both positively and negatively -- by a belief in God.

But this is much different from being influenced by God directly. For that to happen, (1) God would have to be real, and (2) God would have to act upon human beings in some demonstrable fashion.

I responded to a comment with...

My question is: what good is God, if God doesn't make any difference in people's lives? Yes, people have beliefs about God that make them act in different ways.

Some of these ways are positive -- an alcoholic stops drinking after surrendering to God -- while others are negative, a terrorist kills in the name of God.

But in neither case can it be proved that an actual reality called "God" is at work. It is the person's brain/mind at work, creating thoughts that become beliefs. Do you see the difference?

There's no evidence that God makes any difference in people's lives. Believing in God does. In the same way, Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy have effects in the world (kids make money from their teeth, for example), but these entities exist only as concepts, as thoughts.

I find this tremendously liberating. For some reason, in all of my sixty years I'd never thought about God in this fashion until the thought "What good is God?" popped up unbidden while I was meditating.

Think about it.

In all of human history, which encompasses so much striving to understand the cosmos and what role a god or gods might play in it, there is exactly zero demonstrable evidence that any person has known God or been touched by Him, Her, or It.

Zero. None. Nada.

Yet reality is real. We experience it each and every moment while we're alive. There just is no sign of God anywhere. As I noted in my previous post, there's no way to tell the difference between a godded person and a non-godded person.

Which means...we're free! We can live life without the anxiety that so many people carry around (I know, because I used to be such a person): "I should be working harder at coming closer to God."

That's impossible. Nobody has ever done it.

At least, there's no proof that anyone, alive or dead, has embraced divinity and been changed by the contact in a fashion that isn't part of normal human experience. So as I said in another comment to my post:

Actually, it's liberating to see things more clearly in this fashion. What it means is that if God exists, a relationship with Him/Her/It is going to be super-duper intimate. No one will ever know about it -- not directly. There never will be any proof of it -- not directly.

This is pretty much what "deep" mystics always have said: God is the ultimate mystery (that's why they're called mystics). When we try to make God into something that can be shown to our friends, like a magic trick, that isn't God.

This is it. Right here and now. All there is. All we need. All we'll ever have.

Grab it. Reality isn't ever going to be any closer than it is at this moment.

What you want to do, do it now. What you want to know, know it now. What you want to be, be it now. What you want to have, have it now.

I'm speaking philosophically, of course. Or "spiritually," if you like (though that word has come to mean less and less to me).

LIfe's meaning, the grand purpose of it all, is never going to be revealed in a great gush of Godly grace. Don't expect that you're ever going to become anything other than the ordinary human being you are now.

Because there's no solid evidence that this has happened to anyone in all of human history. And none of us really believes that we're so special, we'll be the first God-being to ever exist.

Life will keep on unfolding until we die. New things will keep happening to us. We will keep changing until change comes to an end.

That's all good. And inevitable. Which is why I call it "good."

Yet God is nowhere in all of this. So stop believing that He/She/It is. There's nothing good, nor anything bad, that God can do for you or to you. Wake up and smell the reality coffee.

God either is nothing, non-existent, or nothing that affects humans in any sort of extraordinary way. In either case, God is nothing.

If you disagree, take up the challenge in my previous post. 

Let's imagine a game show: "Who Has Been Made Better by God?"

A dozen people sit in chairs on stage. The contestant -- let's say it's you -- has to figure out which of the individuals, if any, has an intimate relationship with God, and which are godless.

How would you tell? What questions would you ask?

Given the opportunity to conduct background research on these people, what evidence could you gather that would allow you to say, "Person X is better because of God"?

None. If gathering such evidence were possible, it would have been done by now.

Let's modify the New Hampshire motto. Live free. Then die.

What's good about God?

This morning, while I was meditating, a thought popped into my mind: What's good about God? After a bit of reflection, an answer came: Nothing.

If you're an atheist or agnostic, that answer won't surprise you. But I hope to convince religious believers that they too should consider that God is good for nothing. In fact, I don't see how someone could come to any other conclusion.

Follow my reasoning...

God isn't evident. People are. Religions are founded by people who supposedly know something about God.

For example, Jesus, Mohammad, Moses.

In addition to these historical figures, there are modern day gurus, masters, sages, and prophets who are believed to have some sort of direct connection with God.

And countless members of the world's religious, spiritual, metaphysical, mystical, and religious faiths consider that God has touched, loved, changed, saved, or otherwise influenced them.

Yet let's imagine a game show: "Who Has Been Made Better by God?"

A dozen people sit in chairs on stage. The contestant -- let's say it's you -- has to figure out which of the individuals, if any, has an intimate relationship with God, and which are godless.

How would you tell? What questions would you ask?

Given the opportunity to conduct background research on these people, what evidence could you gather that would allow you to say, "Person X is better because of God"?

None. If gathering such evidence were possible, it would have been done by now.

And likely the existence of that evidence would have greatly diminished all the debating, wrangling, and arguing about whether God exists, and if so, which religion has the direct line to Him, Her, or It.

In fact, there's no way to tell if a person who claims to have a relationship with God really does. It's all a matter of blind faith.

Does God make someone moral, ethical, upstanding, virtuous, loving? No. There are plenty of good people who are religious believers. There also are plenty of good people who are atheists or agnostics.

Does God make someone wise, intelligent, a knower of things no one else knows? No. There is no verifiable evidence of anyone being privy to knowledge that could only have come from God.

Does God make someone capable of super-human powers, such as ESP, telekinesis, clairvoyance, invisibility, or such? No. There is no documented record of anyone possessing capabilities that aren't part of the normal skill set of Homo sapiens.

I could go on in the vein, but three examples are enough to make my point.

Ardent believers in God, in a God-realized human being, or in their own relationship with God, like to claim that contact with divinity has marvelous effects. Yet when they are asked, "What effects?", the answers are underwhelming.

As noted above, everything that supposedly is good about God also can be had without God. Meaning, a godly person looks no different from an ungodly person.

There's no way to tell them apart.

If you show me a religious believer who is so generous and loving he would surrender his life for another person, I can show you an atheist with the same quality.

If you show me a religious believer who is so wise, personable, and charismatic he elevates the spirits of almost everyone who comes in contact with him, I can show you an atheist with the same quality. 

If you show me a religious believer who is willing to undergo arduous disciplines and sacrifices in order to achieve his life's ambition, I can show you an atheist with the same quality.

So I repeat my question: What's good about God? Along with my answer: Nothing. 

I welcome comments to this post that attempt to show how it would be possible to win the "Who Has Been Made Better by God?" game. Take a stab at it. Describe how you would distinguish between a godly person, and a non-godly person.

I'm confident you'll find that there's no way to tell the difference. 

And that's really good news. Because everything we call "good" is available to us here and now as normal human beings -- no special delivery from God needed. 

Looking outside of ourselves for the qualities we want to embody is senseless, since there is no evidence that believing in a divinity adds anything desirable to the human experience.

So rejoice in the thought, "There is nothing good about God." This means that all the good we could ever want or enjoy is ours for the having -- as earthly beings.

A Sant Mat guru answers a question with: "Don't question"

Shin, whose email to me a few months back was shared in "Good questions from a Sant Mat truth seeker," is still questioning.

Good for him.

Below I've shared, with minor editing, a report from Shin of a Q & A session between him and Gurinder Singh -- the current guru of Radha Soami Satsang Beas (RSSB), a branch of Sant Mat.

What's especially interesting about this interaction is that one of the parties, Gurinder Singh, is considered to be God in Human Form (GIHF) by RSSB devotees. So to a believer, what the guru says is the gospel truth.

Or the divine truth, since Sant Mat is far removed from Christianity, except in the sense that the GIHF guru is viewed, like Jesus, as having been sent to take fallen souls back to God.

Shin addresses this notion of a "fall" in his questions. If God is perfect, then why was an imperfect physical universe created?

And what's up with this game God is said to be playing? Souls fall from heaven, or are kicked out, and then need to make the right moves to return to their previous exalted state.

What's the point?

This assumes, of course, that a fall occurred, that God exists, that a savior is needed to bridge the gap between heaven and earth. Sant Mat, like Christianity, claims that these things are true. But no evidence is provided to back that claim up.

So it's natural to question. The following interchange occurred during a question and answer session following a talk at RSSB's headquarters in England (Haynes Park) earlier this week.

What surprised me is that this Q & A session reportedly included advice from Gurinder Singh not to question or use one's intellect after being intitiated into the RSSB fold.

Except, that is what everybody who comes to the microphone in a Q&A session necessarily does. Including the guru, who uses his intellectual capacities to answer questions, just as members of the audience use theirs to ask them.

I've never understood this fear of questioning, or of using one's god-given (rather, evolution-given) mental abilities. It seems to relate to the whole Fallen thing -- where humans are believed to have descended from paradise because they thought, questioned, and learned too much.

Theologically, this doesn't make sense. Psychologically, this dogma sets religious believers at odds with themselves.

As Shin notes, people productively use their intellects in every area of life, but are told to shut their intelligence down when it comes to their religiosity. One is drawn to wonder: is this for the benefit of the believer, or for the religious organization?

Read on...
----------------------------
From Shin:

I wish to share the following with your audience on the Church of the Churchless site.

The Master [Gurinder Singh] was at Haynes Park (3 day visit) over the weekend 2nd, 3rd & 4th of May. I did not attend until Monday and went to ask a question my daughter and others wanted me to ask, so here goes:

Question: "As you stated on Saturday (to another enquirer) and confirmed to me a couple of years ago when I asked...

This existence we are all a part of is a GAME created out of boredom. Therefore this infers IMPERFECTION. Hence, why do we want to go back to imperfection, only to be told, the Game will continue or a new one created and you will have to be sent back! As you will only be bored here"?

Answer: "Do not take everything I say as literal and it may just be expressed in jest! Anyway it is not imperfect up there/in there and you will not be sent back."

My thoughts: Why were we sent here from Perfection? Does not make sense and can only imply a game or a form of entertainment for the Creator. The Masters cannot explain why we are here but can categorically state we will not be sent back!

I challenged the Master once more towards the end of my questioning and asked if he could say "without question this is not a game."

Answer: "You can if you want, take it as a play or performers performing on a stage."

My thoughts: What's the difference?!

My second question, following on from the first:

Question: "This game is fundamentally the Creator experiencing Itself through each individual soul. Therefore he is experiencing all the good, all the bad, and evil through us as a part of this game?"

Answer: "No, the Creator does not need to experience good or bad, he does not need to."

My thoughts: The Shabd [Spirit] or Creator is within every living organism. In fact the satsang [talk] prior to the Q&A session was presided over by an American who categorically stated "every hair follicle and every amoeba has the shabd resounding within." Therefore the Creator MUST be experiencing all that happens and if he IS NOT why on earth can he JUDGE?!

Finally I asked this of him: "Do you believe in the Law of Confusion and the Veil of Forgetfulness?"

Answer: "There is no Law of Confusion!"

My thoughts: Well, I think 99.99% of us are indeed confused when it comes to religions and faiths. The ones who claim not to be confused are the "sheep" within these faiths. How can there be no confusion as the Masters themselves state we are not to know our previous lives and hence be able to stop from making the same mistakes?!

The Master more or less ended with this comment to me: "Once you have been initiated you should not question and use your intellect."

My thoughts: Use your intellect in everything you do in life but not on this faith. You cannot question at anytime in your life as you mature through it. You question everything as your perspectives change!

In October 2008 the Master said: "I believe you if you have doubts but will not if you say you do not!" Another contradictory statement.

During the Q&A session a lady stood up and made the following statement: My friend (or it could have been a relation, could not quite hear) was initiated recently but now claims he feels MORE confined now he is on the path."

My thoughts: The problem I feel with all faiths is though they claim to free you, you are in fact going from one prison to another. 

At the end of the Q&A's, as I walked to my car, a couple of people congratulated me on the question while one laughed it off and insisted he did not have any. Obviously this person forgot what the Master said in October -- another sheep!

On returning home and over the next couple of days i had three intense phone calls all insisting that I DO NOT USE MY INTELLECT!!

"The Leader is Great...Great is the Leader....Never Question the Leader"....a familiar Simpson's episode to many.

The family know my thoughts now and I suppose will shun me in the future. Though my brother agrees with virtually everything I have said and read on this blog he states he cannot leave the Master! I feel behind this sentiment is a feeling of fear, which is echoed amongst many followers of religions and faiths.

Take care,
Shin

Cogent critical analysis of Sant Mat

Often comments added to a blog post by other people are the best part of something I've written.

Such was the thought that went through my mind on April 28, when I read a comment by tAo that he'd submitted to my "Another RSSB initiate bites the dust" post. With minor editing, I've copied it in below to give it wider attention.

Though the subject is the Sant Mat philosophy that forms the basis of the teachings of an Indian organization, Radha Soami Satsang Beas, seemingly much of what tAo says applies to any religious group.

I agree that many of those who become "churchless" don't do so because of a lack of mystical or spiritual experiences while they're members of a "church." Rather, the opposite is true.

Often they have profound realizations. However, what is realized leads to a conclusion that truth lies in a different direction from what their organization teaches.

tAo also makes a good point when he distinguishes between (1) mystical experiences of purported higher realms of reality, and (2) intuitive insight into the nature of reality.

It's sort of like the difference between (1) having a marvelous dream, and (2) waking up. No matter what is experienced in a dream, it is still illusory -- not to be confused with awakening.

Here's tAo's submission. He is commenting on previous comments to the post, which I've shown in italics.

------------------------------------
George posted the following comments:

"One has to let go of the intellect to pierce the veil and connect with a different state to achieve some sort of mystical experience or gnosis."

-- But that which you describe is not the actual practice of shabda yoga. First, the intellect can not and need not be let go of. Shabda yoga meditation is simply listening to an 'inner' sound current and seeing an 'inner' light. And also, there is no "connect with a different state".

The prescribed meditation is to put attention upon the inner sound current (the "shabda" or "nam"), and that is itself the goal. From then on, the shabda then supposedly draws the consciousness of the practitioner into higher and higher subtle planes, and supposedly, ultimately beyond the realm of the mind into a transcendent purely spiritual realm. The "mystical experience" that is achieved, is simply the action of drawing of the individual's consciousness (the "surat" or "soul" in Radha Soami (RS) parlance) beyond the body and material plane, and up into inner higher subtle planes, supposedly eventually reaching the imperishable spiritual realm.

"These mechanical tenets [...] them being tools to try and open up the mind and release it from the supposed clutter of the intellect."

-- No... again, the practice of shabda yoga meditation is not done to "open up the mind and release it from the supposed clutter of the intellect". It is done specifically to bring the attention of the practitioner to directly perceiving the shabda/nam or the inner sound current (which supposedly emanates from the highest spiritual plane), which then supposedly has the power to automatically draw the practitioner's consciousness upwards into higher more subtle inner planes.

"Those that have had a mystical experience continue to follow RS, while those that do not become disillusioned."

-- I don't agree. It is actually more the opposite. Most of those who do continue to follow RS, have by and large achieved little or no mystical experiences; and many of those who have left RS (or "disillusioned" as you say), have indeed had unique and profound mystical experiences (but not derived from or related to the practice of RS meditation), but which the RS meditation has not brought about and not proven effective in achieving such experiences.

So I would not say that those who stay with RS are the ones who have achieved "mystical experiences". They only stay because they hope and believe in the promise of someday achieving those experiences, not because they have had any experiences.

These are all things that are much more obvious to those of us who are very knowledgeable and experienced in Sant Mat, and not to people like yourself who basically have little understanding and knowledge and no experience in Sant Mat. There is no criticism in this. It is simply a matter of having correct understanding of what is the actual practice and the goal of Sant Mat, of the shabda yoga meditation.

"Those that enter RS with a western questioning mind geared more towards rationalism, would seem inherently predisposed away from entering into this different state."

-- That may be true to some extent, but the eastern mind can be very inquiring as well. But neither eastern nor western is more predisposed. Achieving results in shabda yoga is much more simply a matter of focusing upon the inner sound current, and having experience of traversing the inner subtle planes as outlined in the Sant Mat cosmology.

"But this seems to be [...] that one has to risk one's mind as it were, to let it go totally, and i'm not sure if the disillusioned ex-satsangis were ever truly able to do this."

-- I beg to differ with that notion as well. It is the "disillusioned ex-satsangis" who are really the ones who have "let it go" far more than the RS believers who hold on to Sant Mat dogma and beliefs. The believers have not "let go" at all. They are rigidly holding onto the master/savior figure, the body of dogma, and the hope that the practice (shabda meditation) will deliver them to the goal.

[George's comments to Brian]:

"The goal of RS is to unite with the sound, othewise why do it?"

-- The goal is not so much as to "unite" with the sound, but rather to simply hear and meditate UPON the sound current (and light)... so that the sound & light current (shabda/nam) will then draw the consciousness (or 'soul') up into higher more subtle realms and beyond... eventually to the spiritual realm. So the practice is not to "unite", but rather to focus and maintain attention upon the sound. [The practice also includes internal repetition of a mantra, and visualization of the form of the guru]

"Mechanical tenets for achieving this, i.e. vegetarianism, purity, etc are surely all just tools forming part of a method that have been found through practical experience by the saints/satgurus through the ages to supposedly be the best method for achieving such a connection or unity."

-- Yes that is generally true of many paths, but in Sant Mat those things (vegetarianism, purity, etc) are simply peripheral aids intended to assist in a more effective meditation... and they are not the primary practice.

"the plain intended meaning, which is [...] some sort of unity or connection with a creative force or sound where one experiences this gnosis or direct intuitive insight into the nature of reality."

-- That is somewhat correct, but not specifically. Yes, the "intended meaning" or purpose is to "connect" with the shabda/sound-current, but that is not really stated as being to have "direct intuitive insight into the nature of reality".

The stated purpose of "connecting" and meditating upon the sound current is all about facilitating the so-called "soul" to be drawn up through and beyond the material, subtle, and mental planes... and into the (supposed) supreme transcendental spiritual realm. The practice and the goal of Santmat is not generally stated as being for any so-called "direct intuitive insight into the nature of reality". That is much more the orientation of traditions such as Ch'an/Zen, and advaita vedanta, jnana yoga, siddha yoga, and dzogchen.

"Such a feeling must surely be overwhelming if experienced [...] Why would someone get off the RS path having had such a profound experience."

-- Again, the reason that people remain on the RS path is not because they have had, but because they have NOT had "such a profound experience". They remain because they are seeking that, and because they believe that Sant Mat will eventually give them that.

It is far more likely that those folks who HAVE had "profound experiences" realize that such experiences are not at all dependent upon, or limited to Sant Mat. In fact, some of the practices and beliefs of Sant Mat may be impediments to realizing such mystical experiences.

But ultimately, all such supposed "mystical" experiences are phenomenal, transitory, and they do not equate with actual realization/recognition or as you say "direct intutive insight into the nature of reality".

"The love for their guru and his teachings would be massive."

-- The so-called "love" for the guru is simply an aspect of cult mentality. It is not actual real love, as the disciples never have any closeness or proximity, or any actual personal contact or interaction with the guru... the guru who basically remains aloof and inaccessible to the masses of followers.

"Perhaps I have misunderstood your reasons for leaving Sant Mat."

-- Yes, I believe that is definitely the case. But that is not your fault. To really understand why someone would leave, requires that you know quite a lot about the RS path, its dogma, its practice, its guru worship, its authoritarianism, its organization and sangat, and various sorts of other aspects that a non-initiate would not be privy to, or familiar with, or have had any direct experience of.

I hope this helps you to get a better picture as to the actual practice and intended goal of Sant Mat.

"I don't assume to know a single thing about ultimate reality. I find such a concept in itself quite overwhelming and am not even sure such a state or means of perception exists."

-- Thats good observation and thinking George. I agree with you.

"My limited understanding [...] is that RS is one of many mystic traditions that supposedly allows one to enter into some sort of raised consciousness in which one is able to unite with something bigger, with the one or ultimate reality or whatever."

-- Yes, that's more or less the supposition of Sant Mat.

"I understand it is a feeling like being in love, like returning home to the source and so on and so forth."

-- No... thats not really quite how it is, or how it turns out.

"I have never experienced this."

-- But that is irrelevant. You HAVE experienced many other things that are no less important and meaningful. There is nothing special that you do not have. Life itself is what's its all about, not some particular special meditation experience or extraordinary altered state. There is nothing lacking for you to gain, in that respect.

"What are people after? What were you after? I mean why did you not just go the zen route or yoga if it was mere meditation and clean living you were after?"

-- Its all simply a matter of the vagaries of the search. Each person's process and journey is unique.

"I don't assume that any form of religion - mystical, mainstream or otherwise - provides any type of higher knowledge, but am interested in trying to find out."

-- Thats a reasonable question. But the best path (in my opinion) is to be content with, and proceed on YOUR OWN unique path, as it is revealed and lived from moment to moment.

"It sounds like my understanding of RS is incorrect and that many people entered RS for other reasons, which means i obviously totally misunderstand the main aim or goal of the tradition itself."

-- Yes, that's much what I was trying to tell you awhile back. But you reacted in a negative way. Yet I and others have been trying to better explain Sant Mat to you. Its not your fault. It takes awhile to correctly understand what Sant Mat is all about.

Zen minus Buddhism equals Taoism

Becoming “churchless” doesn’t mean that someone has given up the search for meaning in life. Quite the opposite.

Speaking personally -- as if I had a choice -- I don’t feel that the intensity of my quest for ultimate answers concerning the nature of the cosmos has lessened a bit since I turned away from organized religion and spirituality. 

All that has changed is the style of my search. I’m more open now to wandering in the open fields of mysticism and philosophy, being less concerned about staying on a well-defined path.

Still, I enjoy learning about how other pathless (or semi-pathless) wanderers look upon reality from their vantage point. I don’t want to follow in someone else’s footsteps, but it’s nice to meet up with like-minded travelers for a friendly get-together around a literary campfire.

These days, when I walk into a bookstore or browse through my own library I usually head for the Taoism and Buddhism sections. This is where my churchless soul finds the most Yes, Yes, Yes resonance.

So Ray Grigg’s “The Tao of Zen” is right up my reading alley, since it features a discussion of both philosophical systems.

I’ve read the book several times. Each re-reading offers up new insights, with some thoughts popping out of a page with much greater vigor than before.

Browsing through “The Tao of Zen” the past few days, I’ve been struck by the distinction Griggs makes between (1) Zen, and (2) Zen Buddhism. I’ve tended to see these terms as being virtually synonymous. But there’s good reason to argue that genuine Zen has little if anything to do with Buddhism.

And a lot to do with Taoism.

Makes sense to me. I’m a big fan of philosophical, as opposed to religious, Taoism. I also enjoy Zen literature, unless it is heavily tainted with the religious side of Buddhism.

Grigg’s notion is that Zen minus Buddhism equals Taoism. Or at least is virtually identical.

Ch’an [Zen] then, when understood without the overlay of Buddhism -- when its Indian element is removed -- is almost indistinguishable from Taoism. In personality, philosophy, and intellectual character,  Ch’an without Buddhism is almost identical to Taoism.

As much as I’m attracted to Buddhism, the most churchless world religion, it’s other-worldly aspect often leaves me with a Huh?

I mean, Buddhist meditation practice emphasizes mindfulness in the here and now. Yet much of Buddhist philosophy stresses the goal of detaching from this illusory world of maya, getting off the wheel of rebirth, and experiencing some sort of transcendent reality.

This reading time around, some previously non-highlighted passages in “The Tao of Zen” got a heavy dose of yellow.

For Taoists such release from ego is a means of reconnecting to wisdom and body of Earth, to the Great Mother; for Buddhists it is a way of disconnecting from the burden of samsara, the “Wheel of Life.”

...For Buddhism, however, enlightenment creates a metaphysical disconnectedness; for Taoists it creates an earthy reconnectedness. At a superficial level the two forms of awakening seem similar. Both cultivate an attitude of separation, of detachment, but at a deeper level they are quite different.

For Buddhism the separation is an objective; for Taoism it is a means. Buddhism separates from the world to transcend it; Taoism dissolves back into the world to become one with it. Later, in Japanese Zen Buddhism, this difference is clearly expressed in the distinction between Buddhist and Zen attitudes.

I’ve always liked the Buddhist adage, “If you meet the Buddha on the road, kill him.” So nicely non-fundamentalist. You won’t find many Christians advising, “If you meet Jesus, kill him.” They’re eager to have Jesus return, not to get rid of him.

Griggs, though, writes:

Killing the Buddha comes from the Zen in Buddhism, not from the Buddhism in Zen Buddhism. The aphorism illustrates the polarity of difference between Zen and Mahayana Buddhism.

Why is it important for Buddhists to kill the Buddha? Or for Christians to kill Jesus, for Muslims to kill Muhammad, for Jews to kill Moses, for Taoists to kill Lao Tzu, for Sikhs to kill Guru Nanak, or for adherents of any other religion to kill the founder or current  leader? (metaphorically, of course -- this is a killing of outwardly directed devotion and intellectuality, not of a body)

Because natural reality doesn’t have well-defined boundaries, whereas human belief systems do. So if we want to know what’s real, we have to kill the artificial concepts and forms that obscure our universal vision.

Both Taoism and Buddhism experience from within systems of understanding that must finally negate and abandon themselves; both practices can only happen when they are free of the constraints of themselves.

Much of Taoist literature is an admonishment against becoming caught in any system, whether moral, political, philosophical, linguistic, or religious. With such freedom, belief is replaced by experience. A traditional Buddhist dialogue reflects the same principle:

The Buddha was asked, “Are you God?”
“No,” he said.
“Well, then, what are you?”
“Awake,” said the Buddha.

To become a pure Buddhist, a Buddhist must ultimately renounce Buddhism just as the Buddha renounced self and all attachment. This principle pervades Taoism as well. Taoists cannot live Taoism if they hold to the system called Taoism.

Individuals who practice either Taoism or Buddhism are inevitably inclined toward inconspicuousness and, finally, invisibility as the system that contains them dissolves itself.

Nice.

Churchlessness isn’t viewed as a movement away from “divinity” in Zen and Taoism. Rather, it is a necessary step toward it. Which in the end is realized as being exactly where each of us is now.

But wandering can teach us a lot. Mainly, I’ve found, that no matter how many different places I go to, I always find the same person there.

Follow your passion wherever it leads

Wow -- that's probably the most New Age'y blog post title I've ever inflicted upon cyberspace. But it fits with what I feel right now.

Which can be expressed in some other cliches that have run through my mind the past few days, when I've been pondering whether to consummate my passion for a Suzuki Burgman 650 Exec maxi-scooter that almost came to fruition last fall.

Live for the moment
Do it now before you're too old and can't do it
What's important is the traveling, not the destination
Having fun along the way is the way
Risk adds zest to life -- don't fear it

Having ordered a Burgman today, after canceling my order seven months ago, I want to get as much philosophical mileage as possible out of this semi-spendy purchase (big scooters are a lot less expensive than a car, and a lot more expensive than a bicycle).

I'm not interesting in preaching about the joy of motorcycling/ scootering. Some people are drawn to this activity; others aren't. Each to his own passion.

But we all have something that turns us on. And that thing is a link to the feeling of Oh, yeah!!! that washes over us when the turn on button has been pushed.

Follow that feeling. It's easy to deny it by speaking words inside our head like...

I shouldn't
I can't
I'm being unreasonable
So impractical
That isn't like me
What will ___ think?

It isn't wrong to think those thoughts. They need to be honored along with the feeling of passion. However, each of us knows the difference between being real and being fake with ourselves.

There are parallels between my churchlessness and my soon-to-be scooterness.

In each case, I knew where my Oh, yeah!!! sensation was pointing. But I used passion-squelching words such as the examples above to put a damper on the fire I could feel burning inside me.

Mystically, I'd read Zen, Eckhart, Chuang Tzu, or Plotinus and feel a non-dogmatic tingle run up my philosophical spine. For quite a while I tried to meld my passion for these mystic teachings with remaining a member of a religious organization with rather discordant beliefs.

Eventually the tension between being real to myself on the inside, and not reflecting that reality fully on the outside, became too great. I readily admit that I don't know the truth about the cosmos. But I do know what truly turns me on.

Philosophically. And motoring'ly.

I realized that when I thought about getting on two motorized wheels again (I had a small Honda trail bike in high school and college, and a mid-sized Yamaha motorcycle about fifteen years ago) I'd feel a sensation of Oh, yeah, that's me!

Not that I'm a motorcycle or scooter. But that I'm the sort of person who enjoys riding one, who likes taking risks in the pursuit of fun, who has a bit of Brando in me.

This isn't you. I'm me. You're you. I'm just saying that each of us, you, me, everybody, knows where our passions lie.

Maybe they're precisely reflected in what we're doing, thinking, and feeling now. Most likely, they aren't. Because for good reasons, and also for not-so-good reasons, we often trade passion for something else.

In the religious arena, hopefully our passionate being-real Oh, yeah's coincide with how we're expressing our beliefs in our life. If that isn't happening, a being-fake checkup is in order.

This afternoon, after handing over my VISA card to Cycle Country for a deposit on the Burgman, I spent an enjoyable twenty minutes or so talking with a knowledgeable sales guy about motorcycle jackets.

He showed me the ins and outs (shells, liners, rainproofing) of several TourMaster styles. In the process we chatted about the rewards and risks of two-wheeled riding, he naturally being much more knowledgeable than me.

I walked away with a warm sense of congruity -- that the inner motorcycling/ scootering me had taken a big step (with that deposit) toward getting in sync with the outer how-I-get-around me.

My churchless journey has been much the same. Getting real with myself. Eliminating fakiness when I find it. And most importantly:

Following passion.