Categorizing the levels of religion

I have been pondering an argument I could make about religion. Over the years I have spoken to many so-called “religious people” and found they can be some of the most difficult and unpleasant people to interact with. They can be judgmental, narrow minded, and provincial. At the same time, I have always been inspired by the great spiritual figures of humanity, such as Christ, the Buddha, Dante, Walt Whitman, and John of the Cross, and believe them to be among the greatest figures of mankind. The contradiction here - that religion can produce both the worst and best people - is what I want to reconcile.

Interestingly, we find that these figures - both the worst and the best - are often produced by the same religion. Thus, it is not appropriate to say “well, these religions over here are good” and “these religions over here are bad.” Christianity has produced both inquisitors as well as philanthropists. Thus, we will take the perennialist’s position, and simply state that all religions are attempts at man to express certain universal truths about the human condition; that the outward forms they take on are simply reflections of the cultures and psychologies of the civilizations that produced them.

Thus I wanted to propose categorizing the followers of every religion in the following way. Individuals may belong to the same faith, but they interpret it according to these different stages of maturity.

1. Superstition

The lowest level of religion. A childlike understanding of it. Results in mass hysteria, violence, or witch hunts. The world is ruled by spirits. Magic is possible. Religion is corrupted by man’s weaknesses.

2. Dogma

A slightly higher form of religion. The tenets of faith are codified. However, the faith becomes repressive, insecure, and controlling. It falls under the influence of fallible human institutions. Here we can think of the Popes who lived in sprawling pleasure-palaces, and the great affluence and avarice of the Church. We can think of the Inquisition, the Catechism, and the drive for conformity of belief. This stage of religion can have utility in bringing social and political order, but simultaneously censors and suppresses human flourishing.

Here I will mention that it is not by accident that Christ criticized the Pharisees (the religious authorities) in the Gospels, referring to those at this stage of religion; or that in the Paradiso St. Peter becomes irate when discussing the corruption of the Catholic Church to Dante.

3. Transcendent-mystical

The highest form of religion. I would argue that this is the “adult” or “mature” understanding of faith. It is usually observed in the initial founder of a religion. It is visible in figures such as Christ or the Buddha. It is also embodied by the major saints and mystics of a faith who follow the personal life-path that returns man to the transcendent. It is open and tolerant (unlike the former stages) as it sees the divine in all. It is a faith that embodies the “mysterium tremendum et fascinans.”

A final category - though it does not quite fit the above - would be what I would call “pathologies of religion.” This would represent a lower level of religion than that of superstition. This would include movements founded by cult leaders that exist only to enrich or empower themselves. These kinds of groups are harmful and damaging. Indeed, in life we find pathologies exist of everything, and religion is no exception. These movements take advantage of the desire deep in human nature to commune with the sacred, and exploit it for selfish and destructive ends (ie, the benefit of the founder, a charlatan).

Solipsism, Separation, and Nondualism

1. Recently I have been reflecting on the idea of solipsism. This is the idea that only the individual “I” exists: “I” am the only verifiable thing that is real, and everything else is an illusion. The best analogy to understand this is to think of a single player computer game. The first-person player is real, however all the other individuals and entities are actually non-playable characters or NPCs.

In many ways this idea has value, because it is hard to definitively prove the individuals you observe are “I”s the same as you are. At the same time, denying the existence of others is not a path to healthy functioning, and the excesses of this idea would state one’s moral actions have no import: which is clearly not the case.

Solipsism causes us to reflect seriously on the idea of separation: on the division between subject (I) and object (you). This idea is built into our everyday experience, and we see it reflected in our basic grammar when we use words like I, you, us, and them. Speaking practically, “I” is always the most important: as while if “you” perish it is unfortunate for me, if “I” perishes there is effective nonexistence, with the annihilation of the subject who is able to perceive objects. 

2. In India they have an interesting idea that is related to this. It is called “nondualism.” Nondualism is the idea that the separation between “I” and “you” is an illusion. The Indians say this illusion is a very powerful deception created by the divine. This illusion is needed to give its emanations (in other words: creation, all living beings) individuality and autonomy.

Nondualism makes a very bold argument. Certainly, someone facing death would not be pleased to hear the line “oh it’s fine to die, because you see, we are all actually one consciousness that has divided itself.” The person on their deathbed would look you in the face and state how very real their idea of selfhood is and state the profound tragedy that it is to face death.

3. The premise of nondualism leads to a couple of interesting ideas.

First, the idea would show the clear foundation of karma. Harming others leads to negative effects because you are literally harming yourself. Helping others leads to positive effects because you are literally helping yourself.

Second, if nondualism is correct, then selfishness and selflessness are of great significance and would constitute a major part of why we are here. In our normal, default state, selfishness is the path of progress. Yet - paradoxically - selflessness would be the true path to fulfillment.

4. This idea makes me think of the story of Christ. In the Gospels, Christ dies on the cross, and in this presents an example of self-negation and self-sacrifice. Yet when he does this, he attains immortality. This story seems to suggest that if one overcomes selfishness (and the individual “I”), one can rise to a higher state.

5. This idea also makes me think of Buddhism. In Buddhism, there is the teaching of Nirvana. Nirvana is the highest spiritual state, an incomprehensible state in which one loses individuality. It is a state in which one loses a sense of “I-hood” and unites with the Source of the cosmos.

Nirvana is distinct from heaven. While in Buddhism it is good if one dies and is reborn among the gods, the Buddha counsels there is an attainment that is even greater than this. This suggests that even the gods still embrace the illusion of individual I-hood, and the highest goal is to transcend this.

6. Two final thoughts I had here were of “proximate” states: states where one gets close to I-hood dissolving back into unity but doesn’t entirely make it there.

Sexual union would be the first of these. In the sexual act, selfhood partly dissolves and one comes into a state of unity with the other person. Certainly, losing the strong sense of I-hood is a motivator for many in pursuing sex.                              

Another example of a “proximate” state would be that of the “hive-mind.” You can find examples of this in science fiction, like the Borg on Star Trek. A hive-mind is a state of many individual “I”s linking together and communicating as one in a collective consciousness. When they do this, they maintain their individual I-hood but also come together as a larger I. Interestingly, we see a version of this in the very cells of our bodies. Another example could be visible today in the Internet: perhaps an early version of a collective consciousness for human beings.

7. Finally, returning back to solipsism – the idea we started with – it seems this idea has a great deal of truth to it. As if the premise stated here is correct, the divine “I” is not distinct from you, but it *is* you. “Thou art that,” and “you” are no different from the objects you perceive. It is only the illusion of separation that keeps us from perceiving this.