Back when the movie “Star Wars” came out, I went to see it with one of my co-workers who happened to be a follower of Eckankar, the Science of Spiritual Soul Travel. After the movie, he was practically gushing with amazement at how George Lucas’ portrayal of “The Force” perfectly described the Eck—his religion’s all-encompassing spirit that binds everything together. Surely, people who saw the movie would want to know more about his religion. I was skeptical. “The Force” sounded like a bunch of hippy-dippy nonsense to me. I just thought it was an interesting plot device, like the plot devices in any number of other movies that had ghosts or vampires or dragons or homicidal computers.
Later, some of my church friends invited me to a movie night with the local bible-study group. Of course, we went to see “Star Wars”. Afterwards, as we ate pizza and talked about the movie, one of the leaders was practically gushing with amazement at how George Lucas’ portrayal of “The Force” perfectly described the Holy Spirit. Surely, people who saw the movie would come away hungry for Jesus.
My point is this: different people saw the same objective story line and came to different viewpoints. Rather than taking what they saw at face value (it was just a story), they decided to filter their experience through the lens of their own mythologies. What they came up with was, for each of them, an event of spiritual significance. Though, what the significance actually was varied depending on the mythos imposed upon it.
When I talk to religious folks (mostly Christians, because that’s the majority in my community), it often seems like they are interpreting my life according to their own mythology and not based on anything that I am currently experiencing. They imagine some devious deceiver skulking around the back corners of my mind, slyly enticing me away from the truth. They insist that there is some extra category of truth that is somehow invisible to mere mortals—a “super truth” that is closed to all but those who possess the magic key. They’ll even insist that without the key, the real truth will look foolish. Sometimes, they invoke Bible verses like a sorcerer trying for just the right incantation that will unlock the mystical blinders and allow me to see the truth once again.
I’m not saying that I mind. After all, if their mythology is true then I am probably in grave danger. Their approach would be exactly what is needed if only the opposition were not so strong and if only I were not so completely deceived. If their mythology were true, then I would want them to be doing exactly what they are doing. As caring people, they could not do otherwise.
But what if their mythology is not true? What if I’m right? It would be impossible to hear the voice of the Holy Spirit if it does not exist. Without a magical deceiver, or without a “spiritual truth” that can only be accessed by divine gift, the only path to truth would be through reason. If I’m right, then where their scriptures appear foolish it is only because they actually are.
More than that, if I’m right then religious folk might also be in grave danger: danger of making ineffective or even harmful choices, danger of missing important opportunities, danger of being misled and abused by unscrupulous people who would take advantage of religious beliefs for their own ends.
This is the whole point, after all—and it’s an important one: How can we tell truth from error? If their mythology is true, then I want to believe. If it is false, then I want as much distance as possible between it and my beliefs.
Could you say the same?