The Spiritual Wanderings of a Famous Author

I went to see Les Misérables a few days ago. Amazing Film. And in the interest of full disclosure, I unashamedly cried like my three-year-old in several places throughout the film.

There’s a story about Victor Hugo that few people know. I stumbled across it  a few years ago and I couldn’t help thinking about it as I watched the film. Hugo grew up as the son of an atheist father and a devout Catholic mother. Initially, he found spiritual meaning in the Catholic Church but over time he found himself wandering into the “spiritual but not religious” movement of that day: Mesmerism. People who embraced Mesmerism were looking for some of the same “buzzwords” you might hear today: holism, spiritual encounter, empowerment, connection and, above all, meaning.

Steeped in political activism, Hugo was exiled to the Channel Islands in the early 1850s where he penned some of his most famous works, including Les Misérables. But also while there, he continued to grieve over the death of his only daughter, Léopoldine, some ten years earlier. Though Hugo was technically a rationalist on paper, he saw Mesmerism as a way to make contact with his own dear “Cosette.” So using a Mesmerist trance medium, he reached out to his daughter in the afterlife. There are records of Hugo’s séances.  They cite him pitifully pleading with his deceased daughter saying,

“Do you see the suffering of those who love you?”

It’s interesting to me that when Hugo reached for spiritual and emotional comfort, he did not embrace the formal religion of his youth. Rather, he sought contact with the spirit world through alternative spirituality. Someone who might be hailed as the political conscience of a entire country – like Hugo was – was really just like everyone else. He was simply a human trying to make sense of the world around him in the midst of tragedy and loss. He was simply someone willing to take risks to find a way to connect with God when more conventional means of religiosity had failed him time and again.

There’s a line in the song Red and Black that lodged in my memory as I watched the film the other day. As a political rebel fighting for a cause, Enjorlas chides the love-sick Marius, “But now there is a higher call. Who cares about your lonely soul?” But personally, Hugo was staging his own inner spiritual revolt on the Channel Islands while writing Les Misérables. And the question follows, is there really any higher call than each person’s desire to connect with God? Maybe the result of Hugo’s spiritual quest was unconventional. But we must admire someone who is willing to continue to look for something beyond what he could see.

The Books

I hope everyone is having a great holiday season.

At the end of the year, I suppose it’s good decorum to reflect on that year’s experiences. Yet, sometimes I find myself looking back further – looking at how this year has added to my overall life experience – just one chapter of many. I often look back at some conversations or books that altered my understanding about a topic. But what if I surveyed the most important books I’ve read to this point? Which books have shaped my worldview – which ones do I come back to? 

I take particular pride in the fact that I have never read The Purpose Driven Life, Blue Like Jazz, or any Max Lucado book. Indeed, you may say: “Sam, that’s exactly what’s wrong with you.” You may be right. But I have been reading something. The books below have been life-changing for me. Very few of them are well-known. Sorry the list is so long…

Martyn Lloyd-Jones, Spiritual Depression. As I wrote in the post before, I love the preaching style of “the Doctor.” Many of his sermons were edited for books. People love the Acts or Romans or Semon on the Mount sermons. This series is my favorite. It deals with spiritual burnout. And I was there. This book (along with the two books below it) saved my spiritual life.

Wayne Jacobsen, He Loves Me. I was a perfectionist. A legalist. And very angry. I didn’t understand what the love of God was all about. I didn’t understand the meaning of unconditional love. This book changed that. It’s a great introduction into the grace-oriented freedom that Jesus brought to us.

Malcolm Smith, Power of the Blood Covenant. Using the theme of the blood covenant and the faithfulness of God as its guideline, this is the best summation of the Christian life I have ever read. Hands down.

Jeff VanVonderen, Families Where Grace Is in Place. Within two years of our wedding day, our marriage was on the rocks. This book saved it. VanVonderen talks about how to create a family (as spouses and parents) where biblical notions of grace are at the center. No more controlling, fear-tactics, and shame. The McVeys and Kimmels are more popular but Jeff was the original. We’re still married, by the way.

Clark Pinnock and Robert Brow, Unbounded Love. I’ve read a good many systematic theologies. This one is different. The late (and great) Pinnock was a renown theologian and the late (and great) Brow was an Episcopal priest. The book is an honest attempt to create a systematic theology around the simple premise that God is love. It’s a breath of fresh air. From the conclusion: “God is so radiant that he deserves a beautiful theology, theology done with joy and thankfulness, theology that can dance and sing.”

Morton Kelsey, Encounter with God. A Jungian psychologist and Episcopal priest, Kelsey has written extensively on the intersection between the Bible, psychology, and spiritual experience. For me, Encounter with God is the pinnacle of those writings (though not his most well-known). He easily weaves theological, philosophical, and psychological sources together to create an understanding of how people “encounter” God and what they seek experientially from that encounter.  

Terence Fretheim, The Suffering of God. Several of the books on this list changed my understanding of the Old Testament. But this one changed my understanding of God using the Old Testament. Previously holding God at an emotional distance from his creation, this book helped me understand that God “feels”. The story of God is one of suffering in relation to humanity. Whether you agree with process or panentheistic thought, this book helped me relate to God in an entirely new way.

Abraham Heschel, The Prophets. Raised as an evangelical, the Hebrew prophetic books meant little to me other than a way to “prove” Jesus’ messianic claims. This book changed that for me – I finally understood the importance of the prophets and their lyrical narratives that reflected the heart(break) of God. No surprise that it took a world-renowned rabbi to bring me to those conclusions.

Richard Kyle, The Religious Fringe. This book is solely responsible for directing my academic interests. In it, Kyle (professor of history and religion at Tabor College) doesn’t just recount major religious movements in the Western tradition. He traces all the interconnections and tributaries that make the history of religion interesting. As someone who was deeply intersted in the charismatic lineage of the church and its ancillary movments, this book showed that tracing religious thematic trends through Western history was possible. A remarkable book.

Ronald Hutton, Triumph of the Moon. Second to Kyle’s book, Hutton’s introduced me to the Western pagan and esoteric tradition. I read this book on a church leadership retreat. I don’t remember anything that we talked about on the retreat…but I remember the importance of having a scholar peel back the historical layers of the neopagan movement and expose the “humanness” of religious seekers outside the Christian tradition. I finally stopped seeing heretics or heathens and began to see people reaching out for religious experience. Not sure that’s what I was supposed to be learning….

Anne Punton, The World Jesus Knew. This book is about the contexts of culture and archaeology that surround the stories of Jesus. It’s a wonderful introduction to all the other elements that inform the Gospel narrative that rarely makes it to general Christian readership. Thankfully, books like Sitting at the Feet of Rabbi Jesus are changing this, but this book was one of the predecessors.

Watchman Nee, Release of the Spirit. I was a worship leader at several churches for about ten years all together. I read some good articles and books on the technical aspects of leading worship. But this is the book I recommend to beginning worship leaders. It’s about ”breaking” the flesh so that God can release the spirit of each of us for ministry. True worship comes from this state of release. Worship leading is a spiritual event much more than it is a musical excercise. This book explains that event.

Heretics, Cults, and Crazy People: What’s All the Fuss?

As a follow up to the Interview with a Wiccan post, I thought I’d explain a little about cults, the occult, and alternative religions. I find these to be some of the most confusing topics about religion. Hopefully, I can clear up some misconceptions with this post.

Sects/cults become credible over time as new members are added and others begin to accept their existence. As sects turn into more accepted denominations, they often breed spiritual complacency among their members who begin to desire to return to the “good old days” when the movement was smaller and more radical.  In turn, this produces more sect formation by dissatisfied members. These “renewal movements” only  become independent sects when the existing church rejects their overtures for spiritual renewal. They merely want to renew the spiritual life of the church. If they are accepted, we call them “revivals” and talk about how great they are. Pejorative labels such as “cult” are given by the mainstream body after rejecting the movement’s overtures for change. Often times, sects require strict adherence to beliefs and high levels of commitment – essentially an  ”all or nothing” approach. Conversely, sectarians believe that the stress of asceticism is rewarded with spiritual power – something the group that rejected them did not possess.

And that’s when all the heresy talk starts. Our understanding of heresy now (which is applied to all types of religious “infractions”) is not the same as the early church. Initially, it only dealt with foundational truths of the Christian faith – namely the divinity of Jesus. In the fifth and sixth centuries, it became associated with other aspects of Christianity - for example Origen’s musings about universalism. But honestly the modern term most commonly derives its nastiness from the writers of church history. Hopefully everyone knows by now that only the “winners” in history write the books. And the same is true of church history. Cult critics initially only disapproved of a group’s method of worship, not the doctrines themselves. But over time, as accusations are repeated in church histories, the doctrine was often deemed heretical as well. For example, the Montanists (initially part of the church) were a rigorous and devout group of Christians – orthodox in their foundational beliefs. However, by choosing to self-appoint church leaders and hold a place for women in leadership, they came under ecclesiastical fire. Along with that came the critic’s rejection of the Montanist’s use of spiritual gifts. It’s not that the gifts were wrong – but that women were practicing them. Eusebius quotes Apollonius: “Does a prophet paint his eyelids?” The issue was not with prophecy but rather who was prophesying: someone the church had not sanctioned. Throughout church history, heresy had little to do with doctrine and much to do with issues of recognized authority.

As such, cults aren’t usually heretics in the authentic sense of the word. What cults oftentimes are is heterodox. Now that doesn’t mean “wrong.” It means outside of mainstream acceptance. Any evangelical historian worth their salt will tell you that “orthodox” simply means the “majority opinion” – it doesn’t necessarily mean that the majority opinion is “correct,” though many times it does. So, many of the “orthodox” opinions we hold today were at one time heterodox, until enough people accepted them. To step away from religion for a minute, we all hold gravity to be an “orthodox” part of science. But Newton developed the “heterodox” idea of gravity from his occult beliefs in Neoplatonism, and alchemy. That may surprise you. But that’s a perfect example of something “heterodox” evolving into an accepted mainstream and orthodox belief. If the origins of gravity embarrass you, then you’re missing the point. All things are heterodox at their inception - including religious belief systems.

So, what should you glean from all of this? First, stop throwing around the term “heresy” for every little religious belief that doesn’t match your preconceived ideas. Secondly, no matter what mainstream religious group you belong to, you can thank your original “cult” leaders for being persistent in the face of opposition from the mainstrean religion of the time. What people called “crazy” then, we call “normal” now. And, third, be kind to the people “beneath” you on the religious food chain – they will be where you are within a couple of centuries…

Interview with a Wiccan

I had an interesting conversation the other day. In a small town in the South, rarely do I encounter people who are open about their alternative religious beliefs. So, I was delighted when I happened upon a Wiccan the other day. I talked to him for about forty-five minutes. Since alternative and occult religions are an academic passion of mine, I asked him some pointed questions about his faith. I thought I’d recount his answers (as best I can) for you here.

Though formerly involved in a coven, this Wiccan now practiced on his own, not adhering to any specific method (like Gardnerian or Alexandrian) – just a smorgasbord of rituals that meant something personally to him. He had only met one other Wiccan locally. I told him that there were others – that I had met a young lady who practiced Wicca about three years ago.

I asked him if he believed in a personal God. He said, “Yes, I believe in God and that he can be personally known and that everyone should seek to know God. However, I also believe that all the earth’s religions have similar themes to those found in Christianity. So to exalt Christianity above other religions is inappropriate.”

I asked him what he thought about Christians. “They don’t seem to follow their own precepts very well. I believe in the Wiccan Rede and the Law of Three that basically expresses the same ideas found in the ‘golden rule.’ Yet, Wiccans are much more tolerant and gracious than most Christians I have met.” I apologized for the behavior of the Christians he had known that had offended him.

I asked about his religious background. Surprisingly, he told that he had been raised old-line Pentecostal. The legalism associated with what to wear and how to behave left him unsatisfied with his experience. When I asked him specifically about the emotional manifestations he observed within the church and the use of spiritual gifts, he said, “Oh I have no problem with that. That was their way of allowing God to touch them.”

“Oh really?” I said.  “So spiritual experience is not a bad thing?” “Not at all,” he said. I asked him if the prospect of spiritual experience had drawn him to Wicca. He said it absolutely had and that personal spiritual experience is the desire of all Wiccans. “So you rejected the overt legalism of your Christian upbringing but not your belief in experience?” He said, “Yes, I found the experience elsewhere.”

Then I asked him one of the most common criticisms of Wicca I read. “Doesn’t that make you unaccountable in your religion?” He firmly responded, “Oh no – I’m not accountable to some guy in a suit who tells me I’m supposed to do what he says. I have never given any minister that right. But I am most certainly accountable to God for what I do. Wiccans are very moral and their belief in a higher power leads them to a higher standard of ethics than most Christians. I am accountable to God and not to another human.”

Once I got him started, he rarely came up for air, simply happy to find someone who wouldn’t judge him and dismiss his beliefs. And he knew I was a minister. That didn’t bother him – I was someone interested in his life choices. I didn’t try to convert him or prove him wrong when he attacked the Bible or told me about some of the things other Christians had called him at his employment. But I did say this: “I am really sorry for the behavior of other Christains. I hope you know I would never say that to you. Though I don’t agree with everything you say, I hope you know that I value your choice of religion. You have taught me a lot today. I would love to come back and talk to you some more in the future. Is that cool?” He said it was and that he would look forward to it.

I’ve said this before: people don’t care about your correct doctrine until they know for certain that you care about them as people. Only when that trust has been established are they willing to entertain the possiblity of your beliefs. People who evangelize others like they are a point on a scorecard or a notch on a belt really misrepresent the heart of the Father. People don’t care what you know until they know that you care.

The “Religion” of Led Zepplin IV

This is great…

http://faith-theology.blogspot.com/2009/04/led-zeppelin-iv-theological-meditation.html

Are Christians and Occultists the Same?

I’m gonna delve into something radical here. As always, I welcome a chance to dialogue about this. Ready to think outside the box? Let me post a few quotes first and then I’ll explain…

Example one: 

Catholic mystic St. Teresa (1515-1582) basically describes the spiritual gift of words of knowledge that she often received in prayer as “…very distinctly formed, but by the bodily ear they are not heard. They are, however, much more clearly understood than if they were heard by the ear.”

Crossreference Jane Roberts, a classic New Age trance channeler, who described a similar experience in 1963: “…a fantastic avalanche of radical, new ideas burst into my head with tremendous force…I felt as if knowledge was being implanted in the very cells of my body so that I couldn’t forget it – a gut knowing, a biological spirituality. It was feeling and knowing, rather than intellectual knowledge.”

Example two: 

Gottfried Arnold (1666-1714) described a life of union with God where believers became a participant in the nature of God.  Along with ecstatic experiences including spiritual gifts, “He who has reached this high grade of love …will be overcome and almost drunken, indeed, swallowed up” in the presence of God. 

Spiritualist James Martin Peebles wrote revivalist Dwight Moody in a letter concerning the similarities between Spiritualism and Moody’s proto-Pentecostal beliefs in experience: “Yes, my brother, with you I want to see a revival of religion, a return to Pentecostal times, a return to that Christianity which gladdened and glorified the first three centuries after Christ.” Peebles glibly suggested a joint revival circuit with Pentecostals and Spiritualist mediums displaying the power of God together: “…what a power, what a mighty power, under the good providence of God, we should be evangelizing the world.”  To Peebles, the Pentecostal experience merely confirmed his own views.

Example three: 

A Methodist parishioner, after participating in a Mesmeric trance, was described by an observer: “…she appeared to be in a state of ecstatic joy, when she grasped [the Mesmerist's] hand and said: ‘O, Brother Sunderland, this is the happiest state I was ever in. It is heaven…Yes, Brother Sunderland, and this is the same heaven – the same as when my soul was converted and filled with the love of God.’” The Mesmerist was also a Methodist minister.

Theologian Harvey Cox recounts attending a Pentecostal service in Boston.  After an inspiring time of worship, singing and dancing, the minister praised the presence of the Holy Spirit with these words: “Yes, this is the way it ought to be. Yes.  This is the way it’s going to be in heaven.  Yes, and we don’t have to wait for heaven because here at Holy Tabernacle tonight this is the way it is now.” 

 Okay, I’m sure you can see the similarities here. I pulled just a few quotes from hundreds to give an idea of just how similar experiences felt in Christian and alternative religious groups are. Now don’t freak out; just listen. Christians have always had a tendency to reject all such occult experiences as counterfeit and demonic. Modern occultists although valuing the role of experience, usually assign it to the fringes of the unconscious mind. But what if our spiritual history, full of countless examples of people chasing experience, were saying the same thing?

Pentecostalism and Roman Catholicism are the largest Christian groups in the world. Why do you think that is? Pentecostalism is 500 million strong – bigger than all other denominations combined. I think it’s because of their willingness to value experience and the supernatural. Similarly, why do you think Wicca and the New Age movement are gaining ground? Same reason – they value personal experience and the supernatural.

I am a Pentecostal (don’t laugh – you’re the minority, not me) and proud that my Christian heritage includes the quotes of the Christians above. You may have Martin Luther, but we have Tertullian, Symeon the New Theologian, Bernard of Clairvaux (and a host of other mystics), Jacob Boehme, Valentin Weigel, the Pietists, and Horace Bushnell. But I also deeply sympathize with the quotes of occultists above who were disillusioned by the Christianity of their youth and went elsewhere to find spiritual experience. As a Christian, though I feel occultists are misdirected, I also believe their innate desire to seek out spiritual experience is dead on. That’s why they supplemented their formal religion with, say, Spiritualism. They are looking for the level of spiritual vitality that has made Pentecostalism the largest Protestant grouping in the entire world.

There’s a trend in Christian ecumenical circles nowadays: embrace Pentecostalism but relegate spiritual gifts to soteriological functions. Unfortunately, the trend is catching on since people like contemporary music but think spiritual gifts are freaky. Listen up ecumenists – you are destroying the single most important bridge to evangelize other religious groups. Pentecostalism has spread because of its power, not its ritual. You should be bending over backwards to accommodate individual experience in the church, not dismissing it as self-indulgent or immature. Individual experience is what anchors people to the faith. If you remove it from Christianity, you create an environment for people to go searching elsewhere for what you have minimized for the sake of achieving doctrinal consensus.

So what are occultists and others looking for? The same thing Christians are looking for. I think they are looking for the power of the Holy Spirit. In this way, Christians and occultists are the same. All of us are internally “wired” to seek after an experience (praxis) that accompanies our faith (dogma). To deny that experiential element is to reject part of what makes religion effective – a point of spiritual connection that bridges a pathway towards relationship with God.

Is “Jerusalem” Still Relevant?

We live in what most theologians consider a “pluralistic” society. In other words, religion has almost a free-market feel to it, vying for the attention of its customers. In fact, the last time Western culture was this spiritually open was around the time of Jesus. Up until that point, Christians normally assume that the Bible consists of a religously homogenous environment. That’s not necessarily true, particularly after the division of Israel into the Northern and Southern Kingdoms. I was reading in 1 Kings the other day and something got my attention.

Around Chapter 12, the nation splits after the rule of Solomon and Jeroboahm, the ruler of the Northern Kingdom, decided to essentially replace Jerusalem as the center of worship with two other cities: Dan and Bethel. One in the far south and the other in the extreme north. Jerusalem remained in the Southern Kingdom, available to those willing to make the journey. Of course, the echo of the golden calves and the wilderness narrative are too obvious to ignore as well.

After reading this, I stopped. I’m not one for allegorical interpretations of scripture, but the similarities between this time in Israel’s history and our postmodern religious milieu interested me. Other religious alternatives were now available to the people of both nations, both supported by the kings of their region. Even though Dan and Bethel were available, anyone could still make the trek to Jerusalem to worship God if they desired. The key was that the presence of God available at the Temple cult in Jerusalem had to be more attractive than the easily accessible sites in the Northern Kingdom.

We live in a time where the right to worship at the “Dans” and “Bethels” of the religious landscape are very much available. Yet, anyone can still go to “Jerusalem” – what I recognize as Christianity. But more than ever before, “Jerusalem” has to be appealing, innovative, transformative, and (above all) must rival the experiential elements found among the spiritual alternatives. It must be relevant and powerful in an practical level or else seekers will continue to look for something they can “feel.” Many critics have come and gone decrying the superficiality and triteness of seeking “signs” or “feelings” but honestly, the time for that is over in our pluralistic culture. It’s not enough to state that you are the best religious choice in some authoritative manner. There has to be more available: “proof” of experience and lasting transformation. Of course, as a charismatic, I welcome this environment – experience is important to me. Those who negate spiritual experience have plenty of reasons to be concerned.

The reality is that more than ever before, spiritual seekers have religious options, all maintaining their own validity and authority. The appropriate response to this environment is to responds quickly and assertively by asking this question: what does “Jerusalem” have to experientially give that others do not? That question…and that one alone…determines who goes to “Dan” or “Bethel” and who makes the journey to “Jerusalem.”

A Busy Week…and an Interesting Article

Few things going on this week. I have a final interview with a church committee on Wednesday for a local ministerial position. And then on Friday, I graduate. Woo hoo! I haven’t donned a cap and gown for a while so that should be interesting. I’m most excited about the fact that I get the chance to get away for a day or so with Beth.

This article caught my attention this morning: “Americans: My Faith Isn’t the Only Way to Heaven.” Give it a read and give me some feedback on what you think about it. I’m curious as to your reactions. I also have some thoughts I hope to put down soon. Most of its contents didn’t surprise to me too much.

Heresy, Cults, And Crazy People: What’s all the Fuss?

I was watching a documentary on the History International Channel, which after watching it, should be renamed the Stylized Historiography Channel. The documentary was on cults and their destructive influence on society. Popular examples of religious freaks took up most of the documentary’s time – like Jim Jones and David Koresh. One phrase captured my attention though, simply due to its overt bias. In the conclusion, the narrator said, “In a world littered with cultic tragedy, others loom upon the horizon.” Wow. Now that’s some nice fear-tinged rhetoric there. As the narrator spoke these words, an image of a large group of Christian charismatics lifting their hands during worship appeared. Of course, that made me angry simply due to the implication. It’s hard to call a global movement of 500 million believers a cult. But what really irritated me in those words and images is the narrow understanding of the sociology of cults and heresy.

Contrary to popular views of religious history, “cults” or sectarianism has been the norm for religious belief, including Christianity. ”Cult” simply means a fringe alternative movement standing for something outside mainstream values. Globally speaking, that means that in Hindu or Buddhist nations, Christianity is the “cult” there. The values may even be the same – just a more intense desire for, say, holiness. Paul Tillich said that sectarianism is “the criticism of the church for the gap between its claim and its reality.” Usually the horror stories (like Jones or Koresh) come from sectarian groups that don’t develop a large following (a few hundred people). They normally pass into history unnoticed. However, all Western and Eastern religions that exist today started as fringe religious movements. Everyone has been a “cult” at sometime or another. That includes all major Christian denominations. Even Christianity began as a radical, marginalized sect of Judaism.

Sects/cults become credible over time as new members are added and others begin to accept their existence. As sects turn into more accepted denominations, they often breed spiritual complacency among their members who begin to desire to return to the “good old days” when the movement was smaller and more radical.  In turn, this produces more sect formation by dissatisfied members. These “renewal movements” only  become independent sects when the existing church rejects their overtures for spiritual renewal. They merely want to renew the spiritual life of the church. If they are accepted, we call them “revivals” and talk about how great they are. Pejorative labels such as “cult” are given by the mainstream body after rejecting the movement’s overtures for change. Often times, sects require strict adherence to beliefs and high levels of commitment – essentially an  ”all or nothing” approach. Conversely, sectarians believe that the stress of asceticism is rewarded with spiritual power – something the group that rejected them did not possess.

And that’s when all the heresy talk starts. Our understanding of heresy now (which is applied to all types of religious “infractions”) is not the same as the early church. Initially, it only dealt with foundational truths of the Christian faith – namely the divinity of Jesus. In the fifth and sixth centuries, it became associated with other aspects of Christianity - for example Origen’s musings about universalism. But honestly the modern term most commonly derives its nastiness from the writers of church history. Hopefully everyone knows by now that only the “winners” in history write the books. And the same is true of church history. Cult critics initially only disapproved of a group’s method of worship, not the doctrines themselves. But over time, as accusations are repeated in church histories, the doctrine was often deemed heretical as well. For example, the Montanists (initially apart of the church) were a rigorous and devout group of Christians – orthodox in their foundational beliefs. However, by choosing to recognize their own leaders and holding a place for women in leadership, they came under ecclesiastical fire. Along with that came the critic’s rejection of the Montanist’s use of spiritual gifts. It’s not that the gifts were wrong – but that women were allowed to practice them. Eusebius quotes Apollonius: “Does a prophet paint his eyelids?” The issue was not with prophecy but rather who was prophesying: someone the church had not sanctioned. Throughout church history, heresy had little to do with doctrine and much to do with issues of recognized authority.

As such, cults aren’t usually heretics in the authentic sense of the word. What cults oftentimes are is heterodox. Now that doesn’t mean “wrong.” It means outside of mainstream acceptance. Any evangelical historian worth their salt will tell you that “orthodox” simply means the “majority opinion” – it doesn’t necessarily mean that the majority opinion is “correct,” though many times it does. So, many of the “orthodox” opinions we hold today were at one time heterodox, until enough people accepted them. To step away from religion for a minute, we all hold gravity to be an “orthodox” part of science. But Newton developed the “heterodox” idea of gravity from occult beliefs in Paracelsian correspondences, Neoplatonism, and alchemy. That may surprise you. But that’s a perfect example of something “heterodox” evolving into an accepted mainstream and orthodox belief. If the origins of gravity embarrass you, then you’re missing the point. All things are heterodox at their inception - including religious belief systems.

So, what should you glean from all of this? First, stop throwing around the term “heresy” for every little religious belief that doesn’t match your preconceived ideas. Secondly, no matter what mainstream religious group you belong to, you can thank your original “cult” leaders for being persistent in the face of opposition from the mainstrean religion of the time. What people called “crazy” then, we call “normal” now. And, third, be kind to the people “beneath” you on the religious food chain – they will be were you are within a couple of centuries…

Interview with a Wiccan

I had an interesting conversation the other day. In a small town in the south, rarely do I encounter people who are open about their alternative religious beliefs. So, I was delighted when I happened upon a Wiccan the other day. I talked to him for about forty-five minutes. Since alternative and occult religions are a passion of mine, I asked him some pointed questions about his faith. I thought I’d recount his answers (as best I can) for you here.

Though formerly involved in a coven, this Wiccan now practiced on his own, not adhering to any specific method (like Gardnerian or Alexandrian) – just a smorgasbord of ritual that meant something personally to him. He had only met one other Wiccan locally. I told him that there were others – that I had met a young lady who practiced Wicca about three years ago.

I asked him if he believed in a personal God. He said, “Yes, I believe in God and that he can be personally known and that everyone should seek to know God. However, I also believe that all the earth’s religions have similar themes to those found in Christianity. So to exalt Christianity above other religions is inappropriate.”

I asked him what he thought about Christians. “They don’t seem to follow their own precepts very well. I believe in the Wiccan Rede and the Law of Three that basically expresses the same ideas found in the ‘golden rule.’ Yet, Wiccans are much more tolerant and gracious than most Christians I have met.” I apologized for the behavior of the Christians he had known that had offended him.

I asked about his religious background. Surprisingly, he told that he had been raised old-line Pentecostal. The legalism associated with what to wear and how to behave left him unsatisfied with his experience. When I asked him specifically about the emotional manifestations he observed within the church and the use of spiritual gifts, he said, “Oh I have no problem with that. That was their way of allowing God to touch them.”

“Oh really?” I said.  “So spiritual experience is not a bad thing?” “Not at all,” he said. I asked him if the prospect of spiritual experience had drawn him to Wicca. He said it absolutely had and that personal spiritual experience is the desire of all Wiccans. “So you rejected the overt legalism of your Christian upbringing but not your belief in experience?” He said, “Yes, I found the experience elsewhere.”

Then I asked him one of the most common criticisms of Wicca I read. “Doesn’t that make you unaccountable in your religion?” He firmly responded, “Oh no – I’m not accountable to some guy in a suit who tells me I’m supposed to do what he says. I have never given any minister that right. But I am most certainly accountable to God for what I do. Wiccans are very moral and their belief in a higher power leads them to a higher standard of ethics than most Christians. I am accountable to God and not to another human.”

Once I got him started, he rarely came up for air, simply happy to find someone who wouldn’t judge him and dismiss his beliefs. And he knew I was a minister. That didn’t bother him – I was someone interested in his life choices. I didn’t try to convert him or prove him wrong when he attacked the Bible or told me about some of the things other Christians had called him at his employment. But I did say this: “I am really sorry for the behavior of other Christains. I hope you know I would never say that to you. Though I don’t agree with everything you say, I hope you know that I value your choice of religion. You have taught me a lot today. I would love to come back and talk to you some more in the future. Is that cool?” He said it was and that he would look forward to it.

I’ve said this before: people don’t care about your correct doctrine until they know for certain that you care about them as people. Only when that trust has been established are they willing to entertain the possiblity of your beliefs. People who evangelize others like they are a point on a scorecard or a notch on a belt really misrepresent the heart of the Father. People don’t care what you know until they know that you care.