These comments from Reitman caught my attention:

Scientology can be very expensive. If your goal is total spiritual freedom—a type of Nirvana—you have to do auditing (which is what Scientology counseling is called).

The path to spiritual enlightenment in Scientology is called the Bridge to Total Freedom, and you can climb it like a ladder, ostensibly acquiring more and more ability or enhancement or whatever it may be you’re going for, as you go.

The first big goal is to reach the level known as “clear,” where you’re supposed to be free of your psychological issues and psychosomatic physical issues. Free of the problems of current time, present time, this life (because they believe you’ve had many lives)—they believe all those issues are supposed to be gone.

This is a clever formula that should sound familiar to those who have studied the Axial Age. It was during this era that several sages, prophets, and thinkers responded to the obvious fact that the world can be cruel and life filled with suffering.

Seeking ways to escape and cope with these conditions, Axial thinkers variously espoused ideas proclaiming this world is not the real world and there is something better (either in another place or life). This world rejecting Weltanschauung laid the foundation for several modern “world” religions, including the monotheistic movements and Buddhism.

While I doubt that L. Ron Hubbard and Scientology “theologians” deliberately patterned their movement after Axial Age philosophies, at some level they realized the tremendous appeal such ideas have for people who are suffering from mental, physical, or social distress and are looking for solace in outer space.

The study authors relied on census data which asks about a person’s religious affiliation. While it is a well known fact that fewer Europeans formally identify themselves with particular religions, this is not a measure of religiosity or “spiritualism.”

As the sociologist Rodney Stark has demonstrated in several papers (including this classic), religiosity is alive and well in these countries and the secularization thesis is “well and truly dead.” Census forms are too crude an instrument to measure things like beliefs in the supernatural and non-standard religion.

If you have ever attended a Star Trek Convention, you will not be surprised to learn there are people who actually profess belief in what they call Jedi religion. They have gotten together and formed The Church of Jediism. Their beliefs sound vaguely familiar:

In Jediism, we believe in the Force. The Force is a unifying energy which exists around us, in us, and is always present. It is the catalyst for life – it is the power that keeps the universe together. The Force is not something Jedi worship, rather it is something we concentrate on, and can relate to. The Force exists in many forms, but it is not something which can be seen. It flows through everything in existence as neutral energy, and according to the way we see, treat and act in life, can change it from neutral to positive or negative Force.

We believe the mind is like a sponge. As sponges, they soak up information daily – we are constantly learning new things. But not all of this information is stored as positive thoughts. There are always negative thoughts and information which can contaminate the mind, whether that is for a short time or a life time. We believe the practice of self enlightenment helps clear the mind, rinsing the sponge of all negative thoughts. This therefore makes more room for positive thoughts, and also changes one’s thought process and ability to take in and learn more information.

Our aim is to bring all of the world’s believers in the Force together for the power of good. We will form a community that does not have bias or any type of prejudice. A community that does not reject other religions, but in fact encourages their positive teachings. It is through positivity that we shall thrive, for that is the Light side of the Force.

The Force sounds suspiciously like something that theoretical physicists study and Jedi doctrine reminds me of westernized Buddhism. The master Jedi encourages everyone to study the Star Wars movies for additional insights.

This religion will not get very far without sacred texts and I am not sure that George Lucas’ original 13 page script will work. On the other hand, Scientologists have done far more with considerably less.

Copyright Illustration by John Perlock

If you are wondering whether this is all in jest, so is a Danish scholar whose study of Jediism will appear in a forthcoming issue of the International Journal for the Study of New Religions.

Next we have Neil Strauss’ humorous piece, God at the Grammys, in which he observes that a good many musical superstars (and other famous people) seem convinced that their fabulous success is part of a divine plan. There is not a hint of irony in the story even though it appears in Rupert Murdoch’s Wall Street Journal.

Some stars, however, see Satan in success. Billy Ray Cyrus’ heart is feeling all achy-breaky over Miley’s backsliding behavior. Not prone to introspection, Billy blames Satan for ruining his family.

This one belongs in the realm of the bizarre: someone has written a book on Buddhist Ecclesiastical Law. What?! This is what happens when British colonialism collides with 2,600 years of Theravada tradition. The mashup is not pretty, unless you happen to be an attorney who thinks law and religion play well together.

Last but certainly not least is Christopher Beam’s Slate story on South Park’s treatment of religions. Although the occasion for the piece is South Park’s upcoming Broadway show, “The Book of Mormon,” Beam examines South Park’s treatment of religions in general. While South Park is merciless in exposing religious hypocrisy and stupidity, it does not seem to be anti-religious.

My favorite is the episode in which “a team of religious figures known as the ‘Super Best Friends’—Jesus, Buddha, Joseph Smith, Krishna, Lao-Tzu, Moses, Mohammad, and a superhero called ‘Sea Man’—join forces to defeat the all-powerful magician David Blaine”:

The most recent gift comes by way of the Atlantic, which reports on Scientology’s most famous former member, Oscar winning director Paul Haggis. Elspeth Reeve’s article includes this gem, taken from Scientology’s top secret origin story:

“A major cause of mankind’s problems began 75 million years ago,” the [Los Angeles] Times wrote [after obtaining secret Scientology documents in the 80s], when the planet Earth, then called Teegeeack, was part of a confederation of ninety planets under the leadership of a despotic ruler named Xenu. “Then, as now, the materials state, the chief problem was overpopulation.” Xenu decided “to take radical measures.” The documents explained that surplus beings were transported to volcanoes on Earth. “The documents state that H-bombs far more powerful than any in existence today were dropped on these volcanoes, destroying the people but freeing their spirits—called thetans—which attached themselves to one another in clusters.” Those spirits were “trapped in a compound of frozen alcohol and glycol,” then “implanted” with “the seed of aberrant behavior.” The Times account concluded, “When people die, these clusters attach to other humans and keep perpetuating themselves.”

The neurobiological substrate on which all supernaturalisms ride shall not be denied.

What could be wrong with a large-scale movement that emphasizes meditation, morality, and mingling? Apparently quite a lot, if a recent “Photo Essay” over at Foreign Policy is any indication. The essay’s title contains all kinds of code words calculated to set off alarm bells: Close Encounters of the Buddhist Kind: An Exclusive Look Inside a Booming Multibillion-Dollar, Evangelical, Global Thai Cult.

It obviously took a bit of hard work to insert all the allusions, because this has just about everything. Far out and crazy, akin to UFO beliefs and Heaven’s Gate or Scientology (“Close Encounters”)? Check. Secretive and shadowy, but we have the Enquiring scoop (“An Exclusive Look Inside”)? Check. A dubious spiritual profiteering scheme (“Booming Multi-billion Dollar”)? Check. Enthusiastic, zealous, and irrational (“Evangelical”)? Check. Expansive, dangerous, and conspiratorial (“Global”)? Check. And the inevitable kicker, bringing to mind Jim Jones, David Koresh, and Reverend Moon: it’s a “cult.”

As if these clumsy connotations were not enough, the caption “essayist” (Ron Gluckman) absurdly trots out the Nazi analogies, complete with “scare quotes”:

Picture this: millions of followers gathering around a central shrine that looks like a giant UFO in elaborately choreographed Nuremberg-style rallies; missionary outposts in 31 countries from Germany to the Democratic Republic of the Congo; an evangelist vision that seeks to promote a “world morality restoration project”; and a V-Star program that encourages hundreds of thousands of children to improve “positive moral behavior.” Although the Bangkok-based Dhammakaya movement dons saffron robes, not brown shirts, its flamboyant ceremonies have become increasingly bold displays of power for this cult-like Buddhist group that was founded in the 1970s, ironically, as a reform movement opposed to the excesses of organized religion in Thailand.

Take cover! These mass-meditating Buddhists are poised for world domination! If Dhammakaya practitioners were carrying Mausers instead of flowers and clamoring for more meditation Lebensraum, the connection would be complete. Or not.

The photos in this feature are arresting and beautiful (excellent work by photographer Luke Duggleby), but caption “essayist” Gluckman tells us virtually nothing about Dhammakaya. It amounts to a hatchet job, which may or may not be deserved. One thing is for certain: Gluckman has not provided us with any information by which to judge the issue. His non-stop train of pejorative cliches and negative connotations speaks to an agenda. Instead of providing us with analysis, we are given only Gluckman’s judgments.

Whatever else it might be, Dhammakaya appears to be a dream come true for cultural anthropologists looking for a field site or subject. If anyone is aware of ethnographic work that situates this movement in a meaningful or informative way, please let us know. In the meantime, we can all channel our inner Leni Riefenstahl while contemplating scenes from the main temple complex:

The main difference between a prophet and a psychopath, says Ralph Hood, who teaches psychology of religion at the University of Tennessee in Chattanooga, is “whether or not [they] can get followers.”

Christian writer C.S. Lewis said that Jesus was either the son of God or “a lunatic — on the level with the man who says he is a poached egg.”

It surely cannot be the case that the determining whether someone who claims special spiritual powers is mentally ill depends on whether or not s/he is able to gain followers.  The followers, after all, may not recognize the illness or may be ill themselves.  Reverend Jim Jones had followers but this did not make him any less of a psychopath.

The focus obviously needs to be on the alleged messiah or prophet, whose behavior and ideas may or may not fit one or several categories of DSM-IV illnesses.  My guess is that most self-proclaimed messiahs and prophets would comfortably fit within several categories of mental illness.  Such a guess has obvious inferences when it comes to answering C.S. Lewis’s either/or assertion.

As the sociologists Rodney Stark and William Banbridge have observed, the success or failure of new religious movements depends on a complex array of factors, only a few of which depend on the mental health of the originator.  They distinguish between religious schisms, which more often tend to be successful, sect formation, and cult formation.  While these are slippery terms subject to normative abuse, Stark and Bainbridge provide us with the analytical tools necessary to begin considering such issues.

Finally, it should be noted that ethnographers have long wondered whether shamans self-select on the basis of what we would today recognize as mental illnesses.  Numerous articles have been written on the subject, with the general consensus being that many shamans would be considered mentally ill in a modern setting, but that others do not display the classic signs of schizophrenia or mania.  It may be the case that pre-modern societies dealt with the mentally ill by considering such people to have great spiritual insight and encouraging them to engage in shamanic practices.

Not everyone experiences Sedona with such rapturous joy; last year, three people died during an especially intense “Spiritual Warrior” sweat lodge ceremony.  Criminal charges were filed and civil lawsuits are flying, apparently interfering with the pristine energy of the vortices.  Visits to Sedona are way down, and the many New Age businesses dependent on credulous consumers are hurting.

As Marc Lacey reports for the New York Times, Sedona’s metaphysical purveyors are concerned not only about unmet (and costly) spiritual needs, but also about their bottom lines:

Nobody is sure exactly what is keeping people away from Sedona’s four vortexes, those swirling energy sources emanating from the earth, but the effects are clear: far fewer crystals are being purchased, spiritual tours taken and treatments — from aura cleansings to Chakra balancings — ordered.

“[The sweat lodge deaths last year] was a very unfortunate and sad situation that could have happened anywhere,” said Janelle Sparkman, president of the Sedona Metaphysical Spiritual Association, who attributes the woes that New Age practitioners are experiencing to the lack of disposable income tourists have for spiritual needs and not what happened that awful afternoon.

“Initially, I didn’t think it was going to affect business and, a year later, I know I was wrong,” said Deidre Madsen, who runs a New Age travel company in Sedona and a Web site devoted to inner growth. “I’m shocked at the impact. My business is down 20 percent.”

The owners of Angel Valley, a spiritual center that charges $3,300 for a 7 day Sedona retreat, have sued the wealthy sweat lodge master who presided over the deaths last year, for the ensuing bad energy and lost profits:

Mrs. Hamilton and her husband, Michael, also sued Mr. Ray, accusing him of damaging their struggling retreat’s business of helping people find inner peace. After the sweat lodge deaths, the suit says, many spiritualists began keeping a distance from Angel Valley and it began losing as much as $35,000 a month.

Those fearing they are not spending enough to purchase spiritual well-being might take some comfort in knowing that Mr. Hamilton has consulted “the archangel Michael, his spiritual muse” about these matters.  No word yet on whether the Archangel has directed him to a hidden pot of gold or guaranteed more customers for the coming year.

The burn victim, in his early 20s, was a Christian Scientist. When ER doctors told him he faced six months of skin-graft surgeries, he turned to his religion.  His religion told him to rely on prayer for healing.

His religion told him “he is the spiritual image and likeness of God instead of a material, biological being.”  That the material world and suffering are illusory.  That suffering is an error resulting from sin or fear.  And that healing is “the natural outcome of gaining this spiritual realization.”

And the Church of Christ, Scientist is lobbying the federal government to give its members an option to buy health insurance that covers this kind of spiritual care.

Christian Scientists often find themselves in the news for all the wrong reasons, usually when one of their children dies because the parents did not seek medical care that would have saved the child’s life.  Given the Christian Science belief that God will heal all and that seeking professional health care transgresses his will, one might reasonably wonder why they call themselves “scientists.”

Although Christian Scientists have their own mythologies that situate their beliefs, this is yet another one of those faiths whose founding is so recent — and well documented by outside observers — that we need not rely on insider accounts or emic explanations.  As Draper notes, Christian Science was founded by Mary Baker Eddy in 1879.  Eddy’s creation was not, however, sui generis.

The broader genealogy of Christian Science is this: it began when a backwoods clockmaker, Phineas P. Quimby (1802-1866), attended a showing of Franz Anton Mesmer’s “science of animal magnetism.”  Quimby devoted the remainder of his life to a modified form of this mesmeric healing system, which quite obviously relied on the undeniable power of placebo for its limited successes.  One of Quimby’s students was Mary Baker Eddy, whose imagination elaborated this “mind over matter” mysticism into what is today known as Christian Science.

Forcing insurers to pay for these “treatments” in the absence of any scientific studies or empirical evidence demonstrating their efficacy seems like an exceedingly bad idea.  Faith, after all, is free and sugar pills or snake oil have healing properties equal to those of belief.

This has long been a problem for Christians, whose God becomes responsible for fewer and fewer things with the passing of each century.  William Paley (1743-1805), the natural theologian, provided an elegant solution for this constant God shrinkage: claim that everything in the world (or universe) shows evidence of design, which in turn means there must be a designer.

Hawking was of course aware of this argument and titled his book accordingly.  While there may be a grand design in Hawking’s view of the universe, there is no designer.  Unsurprisingly, the spritualist Deepak Chopra cannot countenance this possibility so he has written an article asking a Paley-like question: “Where is the Design?”  Par for his amorphous course, Chopra equates the universe — which has some kind of order and thus possesses uncertain characteristics of design — with God or the divine.  This may or may not be the case, and we will never know.

But it certainly is not the case, as Chopra asserts, that there are three main ideas on which “all religions” are based:

1. A transcendent reality.

2. The interconnectedness of all that exists.

3. Embedded values of truth, love, compassion, and the other virtues that are experienced by human beings as handed down from a higher domain.

Certainly all supernaturalism and religion is based on the notion there is a transcendent reality — a spiritual, non-physical realm.  But not all religions insist on the connectedness of everything, unless of course it is a monotheist religion which claims that its particular god created all that exists.

Chopra’s final claim is the most ridiculous: prehistorically, historically and currently, there have been many religions that are unconcerned with “truth, love, and compassion,” the all encompassing, make everyone happy buzzwords that flowered in the Sixties and then fluttered across the New Age landscape, undulating to Enya tracks in between yoga sessions.

If there is either divine design (Chopra) or a divine designer (Paley), something has gone really wrong with the whole thing.  How else to explain the theodicy of it all?  Here on earth, biological life is largely a matter of predation (on other living forms — microbial, plant, and animal), reproduction, and death.  More often than not, these biological life cycles are filled with a substantial amount of suffering.

How can we call this divine?  How can one be blind to the Hobbesian fact that the state of nature is bellum omnium contra omnes and in nearly all cases — whether microbial, vegetal or animal, life is “solitary, poore, nastie, brutish, and short.”