Spiritual Life
Dear reader,
I have a confession to make.
Many years ago, I met a high school friend. Her name I will keep to myself. She was a strong, dare I say fanatical, believer in the Catholic religion. Once, in an emotional conversation, she simply said “God loves you Matthew!” It must have been said at the right time and place because the orbs of my inner world suddenly started to turn.
New vistas
It was a beginning of an interesting process within me that took decades to go full circle. The immediate effect was that I sensed how a new area within my mind suddenly opened up. It felt as if a new space became visible to my inner eye that was unexplored. It was as active as the part which I previously regarded as the whole of my mind.
Not quite a conversion
Having been an avowed atheist, and having grown up with a family having a majority of agnostics, atheists, and cultural Catholics, I began to explore spiritual matters. Going to a church was no longer just a requisite family outing at Easter. I would go to mass by myself, which at that historical time (early 1980s) was a political act of defiance, as much as an intellectual adventure. Priests came up with really interesting subjects for homilies, such as “freedom”.
I did not see myself as a Catholic, but explored Eastern spirituality and yoga, did a little bit of meditation, and looked even more carefully at the ethical dimension of life. However, as I said elsewhere, I was not at all trusting of the Catholic Church and its priests. Taking any new sacraments (I was only baptized as a baby) was for me a bridge too far.
Time to move
I got married in a civil ceremony, and we soon left Poland for Spain. We lived there for two years as refugee claimants (a whole story for another day.) Church became something of a routine – a weekly event that I got used to attending. Its significance was only cultural, not political or spiritual. It was something to give some interest to an otherwise boring existence. I took the time to read the Old and New Testament because I wanted to know what all the fuss was about.
After 22 months, the time came to move to Canada. We (I and my wife) were sponsored by an elderly couple from the First Baptist Church in Vancouver. We were graciously allowed to use free accommodation in an old building behind the church, until one of us worked. From then on our rent was very low. We certainly wouldn’t make it without their help.
Baptists’ guests
We spent time in that church, and I started exploring again, but in areas that conservative Christians would no doubt find risky to say the least. I borrowed some iconoclastic book from Vancouver Public Library and — horrors — took the liberty to discuss it with the Minister. It didn’t bring me any friends. In fact, our hosts immediately started to give us some space.
Then the impossible happened. I heard on CBC Radio (the Canadian national broadcaster!) a program discussing a spiritual group that appeared around Benjamin Creme. Then I went ahead and joined them. I am not going to go into too much detail, but it was a messianic group with a “divinely-given” mandate to let the world know about a new Messiah that they had claimed they found.
Cult life
Maitreya was what they called him. What I found refreshing was that it did not appear to be the usual sectarian “in-group” of the “elect” but something more appealing to my universalistic tendencies (unrelated to the Unitarian Universalist church.) It was not a church, and initially it was not very “cultish”. They mostly did meditation in small groups, and gave talks, based on the idea that they knew something the rest of the world didn’t. They were certainly not looking for converts.
Needless to say, my friends and family did not react to it well, by and large. When I started to send them long letters containing an exposé of my new enlightenment, only my mom was understanding. My dad was very circumspect, and the more religious persons from my small circle of friends avoided talking to me, or simply disappeared. My godmother was livid.
More cult life
This lasted for years. I was becoming more and more detached from the idea of thinking things through on my own, rather than remembering what the guru (i.e. Mr. Benjamin Creme) had to say about it. Then gradually things started to unravel.
It was becoming clear that the group was attracting more people who were fanatical. They were almost obsessed with what they saw as “the truth” or rather, what was presented to us as the truth. People started to go on “wild goose chases” looking for proof of Maitreya’s existence, and the nature of the “proof” deteriorated. It went from things that were possible but uncommon, to really common things like certain odd-shaped reflections from sealed windows.
When Creme started to talk about planets being in fact UFOs, “mother ships” with smaller spaceships that could be seen around them under magnification, I really had enough. I took out my trusty telescope (yes, I had one) and took a picture of Jupiter through the eyepiece. Then I sent an e-mail to my friend from the group. I included this picture, and a screen shot of a website showing positions of Galilean moons on that day. The pictures matched exactly. No UFOs, buddy.
Breakup
I still went to meditations, but another event happened, whereupon I cut ties with the group altogether. It took 20 years. I won’t say these years were wasted because I certainly had a good time. I made friends for life. I learned how to work with people on a project. I practiced letter-writing in English, which improved my language skills immensely. But the final lesson was to Always, always think for myself.
Later I frequented a (very) liberal Protestant church from the New Thought lineage, called Unity. But again, something happened, and I cut ties with them too.
I finally gave up and looked at the bright side. Religion is simply not what I am about. Spirituality is another matter, and a topic for another essay. But I went back to my original views with a sense of relief.
I don’t think we have a “God-shaped hole” in us. We simply have a pro-social core that Evolution created. It’s not rational. It’s based on emotions. We can suppress it, maybe narcissistic people have a dysfunction of it, but it’s there. It compels us to see other people as humans like us. It puts the need to look after #1 in perspective. It makes us jump into a river to save a dog. It makes it possible to love others.
I am leaving this essay open-ended, without grandiose conclusions or a new worldview to go forward. I am more comfortable with unanswered questions.
If you have any remarks, thoughts, or otherwise want to share your reaction, please feel free to email me. You will find my address in the About section.