For reasons that Kron makes apparent, it’s difficult to get a fix on the Emerging Church:

At the heart of the movement is the growing perception that mainstream, organized Christianity is not only fundamentally flawed, with its dictates and rigid doctrines and inherently negative and insecure worldview, as many Emerging Church adherents see it, but that it follows a false gospel. Some wouldn’t mind seeing the Vatican collapse.

The Emerging Church preaches, in its uniquely deconstructionist way, what it claims is Jesus Christ’s original, true message, seemingly lost long ago: that God lives in each person, that the Kingdom of Heaven is here on Earth now, and that faith is not belief but an action and spiritual state of being to be experienced creatively, through human relationships, and by raising questions.

“There are a lot of us who would agree that we need to re-focus on Jesus’s core message, which is very, very different from what a lot of Christians have focused on,” Brian McLaren told me in a recent interview. Members of the movement don’t necessarily seek the answer to life’s questions or even believe those answers necessarily exist. “It has a lot more to do with what is God’s will for the planet, and how do we human beings start cooperating and addressing each other.”

Not everyone has been receptive. “There is an alarming trend in Christianity today,” warns an anchor on a Christian YouTube channel, that is “finding its way into many churches and Christian colleges.”

“They have erased the boundaries!” exclaims Pastor Bob DeWaay on the show. “You imagine God how you want to imagine God, you imagine the future how you want to imagine the future.” He warns, “Dear ones, don’t be deceived by these people!”

It’s good to see an agent of institutional religion recognize that what is at stake here are boundaries. As Emerging Churchers may or may not know, it sounds like they are revisiting some old gnostic territory. While Kron and others are calling this “liberal” Christianity, I don’t think this is right term. While “liberal” is so elastic as to be nearly meaningless, when it attaches to Christianity I think ecumenical and progressive, the kind of “can’t we all just get along and vote Democratic for a better world” stuff found at Fluff Po Religion.

It’s evident that for Emerging Churchers, praxis takes precedence over belief and ontology is more important than eschatology. Although tech-savvy Emerging Churchers aren’t isolated in mysticism, the proper term might be “neo-gnostic.”

It will be interesting to watch as organized religion polices old boundaries and the Emerging Church defines itself in opposition, a dialectical process which inevitably results in different discourses and new boundaries. Sooner or later the Emerging Church will be labeled, essentialized, and slotted. This is how those with an interest in marginalizing others do their dirty word work. Already the process has begun; this pastor suggests that the Emerging Church is a “cult.”

Another thing I couldn’t help but think was that some of his ideas, subsequently enshrined as Mormon doctrine, were patently ludicrous. For instance, the megalomaniacal notion that prophets abound and routinely channel God through ongoing revelations. To an outsider, this seems absurd and it’s easy to ridicule. But I just read something in The Economist that makes sense of it:

In the early days of Mormonism, the pioneer evangelists of the young faith saw considerable successes arguing the absurdity of the idea that for millenia God used prophet after prophet to make plain his will to man and then, suddenly, became mute, abandoning his favoured creatures to tease out with our meagre minds the meanings of the old prophecies and their application to present circumstances. That there is another scripture, that prophets roam among us still, should surprise only those ready to accept the outrageous notion that a once demanding and garrulous God has retreated from his children in silence, having nothing more to say.

The idea of an ongoing prophetic relationship to God has not only proven an effective selling point for proselytising Mormons, it has built into Mormonism a potent adaptive flexibility. In the face of potentially ruinous religious persecution from Congress, church president (and putative prophet) Wilford Woodruff in 1890 disavowed plural marriage in “The Manifesto”, which has been canonised and is believed by mainstream Mormons to reflect divine revelation. In 1978, after decades of pressure from the civil-rights movement, and facing the problem of expanding the church’s membership in countries with large mixed-race populations, church president (and putative prophet) Spencer W. Kimball announced a revelation making blacks eligible for the Mormon priesthood.

If you are Jewish, Christian, or Muslim, the first point is a good one: Why was God so busy revealing himself to prophets only between 1800 BCE (Abraham) and 630 CE (Muhammad)? If God is active in the world and speaks through prophets, an ancient burst of activity followed by doctrinal fixing and stasis is more than a bit puzzling. I’m down with the Mormon idea that (if such a God existed), there should be prophets every generation and ongoing revelations. It not only makes sense but sounds like more fun.

Why only in the past -- Why not now?

The second point is equally good: If you are going to create a religion in an age of skeptical inquiry, mass communication, and majority prejudice, the ability to pivot doctrine on a dime is essential. When things go badly or change is needed, prophets simply issue adaptive revelations. This aspect of Mormonism, which I had previously considered disingenuous and amusing, now seems less absurd.

There is a rationality (living prophets) and pragmatism (convenient revelations) here which I hadn’t previously considered. No wonder Mormonism is giving the hoary Abrahamic religions a run for their money.

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.