Category Archive

I admire the vows of poverty taken by monks to simplify their lives, but it seems like certain possessions would be difficult to give up altogether. We keep objects with irreplaceable sentimental value on display to remind us of people, places, and events in our past and rekindle the memories of our experiences.

I would more easily part with consumer electronics, I think, than permanently dispose of certain memorabilia, but perhaps detachment from the past benefits the monastic pursuit.

The stereotypical dirty hippie keeps barefoot to avoid treading on Mother Earth, shoes possessing some sort of destructive power. Though I disagree with the rationale, there is some truth to the power of the barefoot experience. Cultures and religions across the world value bare feet as a sign of reverence or a designation of sanctity.

There the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a flame of fire out of a bush; he looked, and the bush was blazing, yet it was not consumed. Then Moses said, “I must turn aside and look at this great sight, and see why the bush is not burned up.” When the Lord saw that he had turned aside to see, God called to him out of the bush, “Moses, Moses!” And he said, “Here I am.” Then he said, “Come no closer! Remove the sandals from your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground.”
(Exodus 3:2-5)

Temples may require shoelessness prior to entrance, but I think the reason for such a policy has little to do with protection of the sanctuary and more to do with maximizing individual experience.

“Earth’s crammed with heaven,
And every common bush afire
with God:
but only he who sees takes off his shoes.”
–Elizabeth Barrett Browning (HT Whiskey River)

We typically use our hands as primary sensory devices to touch, feel, grasp, and move. Our feet are also capable of similar tasks, yet when encased in shoes and socks we limit our range of possible experiences (although often for pragmatic reasons). When entering a sanctuary, though, shoe removal allows greater participation as both hands and feet explore and experience the surrounding environment.

Instead of protecting the environment from excess wear, the barefoot experience grants us a connection with our environment typically inaccessible in our daily lives. Holy ground does not necessitate bare feet, but the sage would never dream of wearing shoes upon it, for to do so would diminish the experience of the sacred.

And as one realizes…
that one is a dream figure…
in another person’s dream,
that is self-awareness.
You haven’t met yourself yet.
But the advantage to meeting others in the meantime…
is that one of them may present you to yourself.

From the film Waking Life

Though modern academic philosophy most often looks to Plato as the exemplar of Greek philosophy, Diogenes the Cynic seems to have achieved even greater contentment in the world and often employed eccentric and bizarre means of confrontation.

Diogenes was a self-appointed public scold whose mission was to demonstrate to the ancient Greeks that civilization is regressive. He taught by living example that wisdom and happiness belong to the man who is independent of society. Diogenes scorned not only family and political social organization, but property rights and reputation. The most shocking feature of his philosophy is his rejection of normal ideas about human decency. Exhibitionist and philosopher, Diogenes is said to have eaten (and, once, masturbated) in the marketplace, urinated on some people who insulted him, defecated in the theatre, and pointed at people with his middle finger. Sympathizers considered him a devotee of reason and an exemplar of honesty. Detractors have said he was an obnoxious beggar and an offensive grouch.

Diogenes is reported to have thrown away his only possession, a wooden bowl, after seeing a peasant boy drink by cupping his hands. His interaction with Alexander the Great further illustrates his satisfaction in detachment from the material.

The story goes that while Diogenes was relaxing in the sunlight one morning, Alexander, thrilled to meet the famous philosopher, asked if there was any favour he might do for him. Diogenes replied, “Stand out of my sunlight.” Alexander still declared, “If I were not Alexander, then I should wish to be Diogenes.”

The particulars of Diogenes’ eccentricities are amusing, but what I find most interesting is the similarity of this Greek philosopher’s ideals with various religious lifestyles (such as gnostics, monks, and hermits). Detachment from the material has not yet replaced the mechanism of perpetual acquisition and growth in our world, yet perhaps we would be wise to listen to those who have already attained fulfillment through simplicity.

Today’s post at Whiskey River hits at the core of contentment, I think:

Childhood is full of mystery and promise, and perhaps the life fear comes when all the mysteries are laid open, when what we thought we wanted is attained. It is just at the moment of seeming fulfillment that we sense irrevocable betrayal, like a great wave rising silently behind us. Confronted by the uncouth specter of old age, disease, and death, we are thrown back upon the present, on this moment, here, right now, for that is all there is. And surely this is the paradise of children, that they are at rest in the present, like frogs or rabbits.
–Peter Matthiessen

This observation reminded me of another instance of extolling the spiritual virtue of children:

Then little children were being brought to him in order that he might lay his hands on them and pray. The disciples spoke sternly to those who brought them; but Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of heaven belongs.” And he laid his hands on them and went on his way.
(Matthew 19:13-15)

Jesus’ statement above is often interpreted to mean that we should have “faith like a child”, implying that the virtue of children is their simplicity and ease of belief. Yet the more I read the gospel of Matthew, the more I become convinced that Jesus’ kingdom of heaven has little relevance to the afterlife and more to do with a revolutionary shift in our way of life on earth.

It seems to me that the value Jesus ascribes to little children is not blind faith but a life of contended paradise that only comes from living entirely in the present–an outlook readily apparent if you’ve ever watched children at play. The kingdom of heaven, then, will arrive when we, too, find contentment and rest in the present.

Then Jesus said to his disciples, “Truly I tell you, it will be hard for a rich person to enter the kingdom of heaven. Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.” (Matthew 19:23-24)

Material goods cannot burden us past death, but I hope that I discover this freedom from riches before then.

Our significance is merely an illusion from a cosmic perspective, yet I think this realization only magnifies the wonder and amazement of our home.

Pale Blue Dot, a photograph of Earth from a distance of 3.7 billion miles by Voyager 1, in honor of the 11th anniversary of Carl Sagan’s death and the Carl Sagan blog-a-thon.

It has been said that astronomy is a humbling and character-building experience. There is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world. To me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly with one another, and to preserve and cherish the pale blue dot, the only home we’ve ever known. –Carl Sagan

My NaNoWriMo novel is finished, and I am quite pleased with the result. The story Inhabitants of Eternity is a journey of philosophical and spiritual ideas set in the context of near-future scientific discoveries. In particular, the Terrestrial Planet Finder mission will be capable of observing terrestrial planets around other stars, which includes the ability to determine the gases present in the atmosphere. It is conceivable, then, that in the next century we will observe a planet that, at a distance, looks nearly identical to our own life-filled world. Though we have continually been pushed into mediocrity by the discoveries of astronomy and cosmology, Earth is still the only inhabited planet that we know of, and so the uniqueness of Earth’s phenomenon remains a steadfast truth for many people. Set in the near future when this mission first starts surveying the skies, Inhabitants of Eternity explores the implications of such a discovery on both religious and secular thought.

The story takes place through a series of dialogues that explore our conception of knowledge, the implications of biological evolution, the likelihood of extraterrestrials, and the relationship between religion and science. The main character is also a dreamer, which provides a unique setting for his own exploration of these personal and profound ideas. I have written several essays that touch on some of the themes in this story, but I until now I had not outlined the totality of these thoughts into a single work of discussion. I certainly learned a lot from this process, and I am looking forward to what the eventual finished work will look like. I like to give my writings time to ripen, so I will likely not start revisions until January or February; revision seems most beneficial with a fresh look at the manuscript.

For thus says the high and lofty one
     who inhabits eternity, whose name is Holy:
I dwell in the high and holy place,
     and also with those who are contrite and humble in spirit,
to revive the spirit of the humble,
     and to revive the heart of the contrite. (Isaiah 57:15)

From this week’s Postsecret:

—–Email Message—–
Sent: Sunday, November 04, 2007 3:21 AM
Subject: re: our kids don’t know we’re poor

Once I was driving up Pacific Coast Highway on my way to work on a movie set at a mansion on the beach in Malibu. It was a nice day and there was a clunker of a car driving next to me with all the windows open. It was a ‘poor’ Mexican family. They were all smiling and singing. The father looked kind. The kids looked happy. I saw them and hoped that someday I would be have a rich life like that.

This reminds me of another famous passage on the riches of poverty:

Then Jesus said to his disciples, “Truly I tell you, it will be hard for a rich person to enter the kingdom of heaven. Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.” (Matthew 19:23-34)

Matthew’s Jesus seems to emphasize the ‘Kingdom of God’ almost as a movement that is realizable here and now, if we only let it–perhaps to be found in the slums, cars, and boxes of the poor yet fulfilled. Money can’t buy everything.

We can neither create nor destroy energy. As a result, the Earth system and Solar System (and, of course, the Universe) are composed of a discrete system of particles that can be rearranged and perhaps transformed, but never eliminated.

Inhale, and your lungs are filled a legacy of Earth’s past: the air that a triceratops breathed 65 million years ago; the early remnants of the planet’s atmosphere; the byproducts of photosynthesis across time and the globe; the carbon of people who live today and who lived a million years ago; dust from lunar and Martian rocks; remnants of extinct forms of life that once thrived; traces of the early Solar System, when Earth was just forming. Exhale, and release this innumerable and unfathomable history, contributing your own story to this endless cycle.

The exceedingly complex interactions and couplings of the biosphere exemplify our interdependence and immersion in the community of life. This connectedness is exemplified with each and every breath we take. The community of life pervades even the air itself.

We are hardly the most important, significant, or successful species on the planet. Even the most triumphant of human achievements is diminished in the context of life’s history on Earth. Our achievements as a species are part of what makes us unique–as can be said for every other species–but these do nothing in our self-designation as the dominant form of life on the planet.

Instead, we are the storytellers of the world. As humans we explore, investigate, and think, creating memories to form stories of ourselves, each other, and our world. We cannot consider ourselves superior or inferior in the community of life, but we should certainly acknowledge that thus far we are the only species endowed with this special gift of storytelling. We do not tell stories simply because we can; rather, we tell stories because it is part of who we are.

Almost all religious traditions have some form of prayer or acknowledgment before a meal. After all, it is by the act of eating that we ourselves can continue to survive. I have included below an example of a Christian and Buddhist mealtime prayer.

Christian Mealtime Prayer
Lord Jesus Christ, As you blessed many with the five loaves and the two fishes, may we too, know your blessing as we share this food, your peace in our hearts, and your love in our lives. Amen.

Buddhist Mealtime Prayer
This food is the gift of the whole universe,
Each morsel is a sacrifice of life,
May I be worthy to receive it.
May the energy in this food,
Give me the strength,
To transform my unwholesome qualities
into wholesome ones.
I am grateful for this food,
May I realize the Path of Awakening,
For the sake of all beings.
Namo Amida Buddha.

Each of these prayers incorporates imagery and content relevant to the respective religion. Comparing the two, the Christian prayer emphasizes the lordship of Jesus Christ over fish, bread, and all that lives on the Earth; the Buddhist prayer, on the other hand, acknowledges the sacrifice of life that was required to create this meal. That is, we can only live by taking the lives of other creatures. Life comes out of death, and death brings new life. The recognition of this dependency of life on other life is exemplified in most tribal religions during their mealtime prayers. In this setting, thanks is not given to a supernatural entity but to the animal that gave it’s life. There is no greater love than giving one’s life for another, and it is through this cycle that life has persisted on our planet.

A Native American creation story as featured in the documentary 500 Nations.

God created the Indian country, and that was the time this river started to run. Then God created fish in this river and put deer in the mountains. Then the Creator gave Indians life. We walked, and as soon as we saw the game and fish we knew they were made for us. My strength, my blood is from the fish, from the roots and berries and game. I did not come here; I was put here by the Creator.

What if every day were a sacred day and every moment a holy moment?

From the perspective of organized religion or simple pragmatism, this may seem impractical or absurd. But then again, perhaps this view of the holy is a healthy, sustaining, and necessary component of that which binds us to the world, each other, and the community of life.

One of my favorite quotes of all time comes from Joseph Campbell in The Hero With a Thousand Faces:

Whenever the poetry of myth is interpreted as biography, history, or science, it is killed. It is never difficult to demonstrate that as science and history, mythology is absurd. When a civilization begins to interpret its mythology in this way, the life goes out of it. Temples become museums, and the link between the two perspectives is dissolved.

A story can be true even if it is not historical. This notion is difficult to convey to a literalist, though, who assumes truth and historicity are synonymous.

The death of one is the life of another. All creatures on the planet are thus bound.

A conversation from the movie K-PAX.

Mark: You have no laws?

Prot: No laws, no lawyers.

Mark: How do you know right from wrong?

Prot: Every being in the universe knows right from wrong, Mark.

Mark: But what if someone did do something wrong…committed murder or a rape, how would you punish them?

Prot: Let me tell you something Mark. You humans, most of you, subscribe to this policy of an eye for an eye, a life for a life, which is known throughout the universe for its stupidity. Even your Buddha and your Christ had quite a different vision, but nobody’s paid much attention to them, not even the Buddhists or the Christians. You humans…sometimes it’s hard to imagine how you’ve made it this far.

An Assyrian work by Shubshi-Meshre-Shakkan, and one of my favorite poems.

Who can know the will of the gods in heaven?
Who can understand the plans of the underworld gods?
Where have humans learned the way of a god?
He who was alive yesterday and is dead today.
One moment he worries, the next he is boisterous.
One moment he is singing a joyful song,
A moment later he wails like a professional mourner.
Their condition changes, opening and shutting.
When starving they become like corpses,
When full they oppose their god.
In good times they speak of scaling heaven,
When they are troubled they talk of going down to hell.
I am perplexed at these things; I have not been able to understand their significance.

I just noticed this today in the classic Genesis story:

Then the Lord God said, ‘See, the man has become like one of us, knowing good and evil; and now, he might reach out his hand and take also from the tree of life, and eat, and live for ever’– therefore the Lord God sent him forth from the garden of Eden, to till the ground from which he was taken. He drove out the man; and at the east of the garden of Eden he placed the cherubim, and a sword flaming and turning to guard the way to the tree of life. (Genesis 6:22-24)

The way to the tree of life is guarded, but the tree of knowledge is still unguarded. Adam and Hava are the only mortals who could desire to eat from the tree of life, and none of the other living creatures have any want to eat from the tree of knowledge. The guard is only for Adam and Hava–and their offspring.

Awhile back I asked myself a question: millions of years from now, when dolphins, whales, chimpanzees, gorillas, or other creatures develop further in intelligence, will they have any form of spirituality or religion? Alternatively, will an extraterrestrial intelligence have any form of spirituality or religion?

I think I finally know how to begin answering this question.

The notion of the individual soul has persisted since the Greek philosophers and is taken for granted by many (most?) people of our culture. From an individualistic salvationist point of view, this makes sense: each person has a unique spiritual entity that can be saved or damned.

If human beings are in fact gifted with a separate spiritual entity, we arrive at a question: at what point in evolutionary history did the soul become part of an organism? Perhaps we could extend the notion of a soul to all living creatures, so as not to be anthropogenic. This brings us further along the line of questioning: what constitutes an individual organism? Plants, animals, and fungi all share a recent ancestor when comparing to the biological tree of life. Are individual bacterial cells considered individual organisms capable of possessing a soul? Can a bacteria collective contain a soul? At which point in the evolutionary tree did it become possible for an organism to have a soul?

We may like to think of ourselves as individual beings, but just like every other species on this planet we cannot survive apart from the community of life.

A cave carved by a river is natural and abiogenic.

A bird’s nest is natural and biogenic.

A human-built shelter is natural and biogenic (and anthropogenic).

A spiritual being that transcends the physical world is supernatural.

Outside of the products of imagination, what, then, is unnatural?

Most people like to think they have free will, and in light of quantum mechanics this may be true. That is, quantum mechanics is probabilistic instead of deterministic, so it is possible that a person’s actions are not entirely determined by the previous physical and chemical state of their brain.

Assuming we have free will, what exactly are we free to do? Free will is the non-determined selection of an action when presented with a choice. For example, a pedestrian who sees a car driving down a road can 1) wait to cross the road until the car has passed, or 2) hurriedly cross the road ahead of the car. Person X with free will can choose one of these two options and follow through with action. Person Y without free will reacts to the situation based on brain chemistry and deterministically selects one of the options.

Regardless of free will, both X and Y have one thing in common: they had no control over their encounter with the car. Free will may provide the ability to choose a course of action, but it does not guarantee the ability to choose your choices! You did not choose to find a car in your path, just as you cannot choose the people you run into during the day or the things you see and hear when outside.

On the path of life there are many crossroads. We select paths by choice, but we encounter them by fate.

A person walking along the beach who sees a pocket watch on the ground might think, This is not a natural occurrence. But a person walking through the woods who sees a nest in a tree will probably think, This is a natural occurrence.

Humans make watches, and birds make nests. Why is one natural while the other is not?

I came across this while reading the Book of Heaven.

In the beginning was God,
Today is God,
Tomorrow will be God.
Who can make an image of God?
He has no body.
He is as a word which comes out of your mouth.
That word! It is no more,
It is past, and still it lives!
So is God.

I am unsure whether the word “God” is a monotheistic god or the chief god in a pantheon, or whether it would be better translated as “the gods”.

At the beginning of time, the gods began weaving the web of the fabric of the universe. The web is woven in time, with countless threads. Everything is connected by this web; the life of every creature is connected by this web. Some creatures who live connected by the web also study the web itself.

People who look toward the inner edge of the web–the very first strands to be woven–are historians. The fields of astronomy, cosmology, geology, and evolutionary biology are examples of looking back along the strands. The very first strands to be woven give us the earliest picture of the gods’ web tapestry.

People who look toward the outer edge of the web–the most recent strands–are prophets. Any type of forecaster (meteorologist, physicist, chemist) looks along the web in this way. Prophets look at the edge of the web in order to predict how future strands will be woven.

This post is related to an earlier entry I made regarding the Biblical Leavers.

Gathering Mana (Exodus 16:4-5)
Then the LORD said to Moses, ‘I am going to rain bread from heaven for you, and each day the people shall go out and gather enough for that day. In that way I will test them, whether they will follow my instruction or not. On the sixth day, when they prepare what they bring in, it will be twice as much as they gather on other days.’

Storing Mana (Exodus 16:17-20)
The Israelites did so, some gathering more, some less. But when they measured it with an omer, those who gathered much had nothing over, and those who gathered little had no shortage; they gathered as much as each of them needed. And Moses said to them, ‘Let no one leave any of it over until morning.’ But they did not listen to Moses; some left part of it until morning, and it bred worms and became foul. And Moses was angry with them.

The Israelites are specifically commanded not to store food but rather to rely on God for a daily source of food. Why is there a commandment against food storage? This goes back again to the contrast between those who practice totalitarian agriculture and those who do not (Takers and Leavers). God favors those do not take these matters into their own hands–the person who stores food is in effect saying, “The gods have sent us enough food for today, but will they do so tomorrow? Let us store extra food so that the gods will have no control over us!” In the midst of a totalitarian-agriculture Mesopotamian world, the Israelites were susceptible to the temptation of storing food; but the God they worshiped certainly did not hold the same ideals.

If you’ve read Ishmael then you’ll know that the story of Cain & Abel is an excellent example of the Leavers versus the Takers (which is sometimes characterized as hunter/gatherer versus farmer, although this is not the only difference). Although Jesus himself was a Taker (being a Jew in Roman-controlled Israel) some of his teaching and philosophy certainly appears to be otherwise. After all, Adam, Eve, and Abel were all hunters, gatherers, and herders–agriculture (and the subsequent so-called “rise of civilization”) is part of the curse.

The Curse: farming instead of hunting/gathering (Genesis 3:17-19)
And to the man he said, “Because you have listened to the voice of your wife, and have eaten of the tree about which I commanded you, ‘You shall not eat of it,’ cursed is the ground because of you; in toil you shall eat of it all the days of your life; thorns and thistles it shall bring forth for you; and you shall eat the plants of the field. By the sweat of your face you shall eat bread until you return to the ground, for out of it you were taken; you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”

The Preference: herding over farming (Genesis 4:2-5)
Now Abel was a keeper of sheep, and Cain a tiller of the ground. In the course of time Cain brought to the LORD an offering of the fruit of the ground, and Abel for his part brought of the firstlings of his flock, their fat portions. And the LORD had regard for Abel and his offering, but for Cain and his offering he had no regard.

The Revolutionary: Jesus sends out his followers as gatherers (Mark 6:7-11; also Matthew 10:5-14 and Luke 9:1-5)
He called the twelve and began to send them out two by two, and gave them authority over the unclean spirits. He ordered them to take nothing for their journey except a staff; no bread, no bag, no money in their belts; but to wear sandals and not to put on two tunics. He said to them, “Wherever you enter a house, stay there until you leave the place. If any place will not welcome you and they refuse to hear you, as you leave, shake off the dust that is on your feet as a testimony against them.”

Today, I discuss one of my favorite topics in astronomy: nucleosynthesis!

All matter came into existence at the Big Bang; however, this matter was mostly hydrogen, with some helium and trace amounts of lithium. Elements heavier than this did not exist, though. Due to a nonuniform distribution of matter, gravitational forces led to clumps of matter that eventually formed stars. These stars fused hydrogen into helium, and helium into some of the heavier elements. Large stars formed nearly all of the elements up to iron late in their life (as Red Giants). Iron is the most stable element on a curve of binding energy, though, so normal fusion does not allow the combination if iron nuclei. (Fusion occurs when elements lighter than iron are combined to release energy. Fission occurs when elements heavier than iron are split to release energy.)

Toward the end of a large star’s life, there comes a point at which the inward force of gravity overcomes the outward pressure forces, leading to core collapse. This event is a supernova, and it is sufficient to fuse iron into higher elements–all of the elements up to uranium. The supernova explosion has the added effect of distributing matter in a large vicinity, where it can be transported away from the generation site to form new stars. Smaller mass stars also contribute to this interstellar matter when they shed their outer layers later in life (a planetary nebula). This matter then clumps and forms gas clouds that become new stars–but this time they are already enriched in heavy elements.

Our Sun is a third generation star, which permitted planets, moons, asteroids, and comets to condense from the metal-rich solar nebula (astronomers consider anything heavier than helium to be a metal). We can observe many of these heavy elements in the Sun with a spectrometer, but the best evidence of this is simply to look around. All matter we interact with has its origins in the fusion process of stars long past.

We truly are stardust.

This is one of my new favorite astrophotos. Cassini turned to look at Earth through Saturn’s rings, visible as a single pixel in the sky. A similar photo of the Pale Blue Dot was taken by Voyager 1. Carl Sagan was one of the masterminds of that project, so instead of my own philosophical musings I’ll simply defer to one of Sagan’s books.

The earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena. Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors so that in glory and in triumph they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot. Think of the endless cruelties visited by the inhabitants of one corner of the dot on scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner of the dot. How frequent their misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their hatreds. Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the universe, are challenged by this point of pale light.

–Carl Sagan, Pale Blue Dot

What happens when a person decided that an agrarian society is not for them, and that they would prefer the lifestyle of a hunter-gatherer? Well, not much. Regardless of whether or not this decision is contemplated very often or not, civilization is an all-encompassing and pervasive force on a nearly global level. There are only a few remaining people-groups that maintain a hunter-gatherer lifestyle, even fewer who have maintained isolation from the modernized world–and it would be very difficult for a Westerner to join such a tribe for a variety of reasons.

We often maintain that people have the right to their own religion, to pursue happiness in their own way, to strive after a satisfying career, to chase after hopes and dreams. Historically, there have been times when freedoms such as these have been restricted, such as the case of an oppressive state church. Yet even with a religiously dominating government, it was still feasible (although perhaps dangerous) to choose one’s own religion. I do not think this is true today for someone who wishes to live as a hunter-gatherer. It may be that no one really wants to give up the lifestyle of an agrarian civilization, but I still think it is interesting to note that if a person desired to do so, it would be nearly impossible. Civilization is not a choice. It is a demand.

A month ago I discussed the problems with many prevalent worldviews which place humanity above and/or against the world, instead of as a part of the community of life. Western religion tends to subscribe to the “ruler of the Earth” philosophy, that humanity has been given control and dominance over the planet and all its biota. Eastern religion comes a bit closer, but the emphasis is generally on the ascension/enlightenment of the individual–and even when non-human life is included, it is generally limited to the animal kingdom.

Ancient tribal religions are found in nearly every corner of the world, albeit in shrinking populations these days. These religions have many apparent traditions in their rituals, myths, and deities, yet there is one common theme that many of them share: the spirit view of nature. All things in nature, living and non-living, contain some sort of spirit (e.g., rock spirits, river spirits, etc.) that contribute to a unified natural community. We generally classify this type of religion as “animism”: the belief in the existence of individual spirits that inhabit natural objects and phenomena.

I am not arguing for the literal acceptance of spirits dwelling in inanimate objects. Rather, there is an important theme that animism conveys in nearly all of its manifestations: the world is a sacred place. Literalism aside, at least in animism (or something similar) there is an active acknowledgement of the relationship of humanity with nature, instead of against nature.

What, then, is the story that we are told (and that we tell)? Humanity is the apex of creation. It may not always be explicitly taught as such, but this notion is implicitly held in most of our worldview. I chose an evolutionary framework for telling the story because it makes the bias more obvious–but it is clear in many of the world’s mythologies (again, used in the true sense of the word). For some religious interpretations it may in fact be necessary to view humanity as above the other creatures, but I am not convinced that this is the healthiest outlook. Like it or not, we are part of a community of life, and “waging war” against the planet/community by asserting our superior status only acts to exclude ourselves from this community. And because the rest of the planet functions as a community, exclusion inevitably leads to the end.

Is there a religious view, then, that places humanity within the community of life and not as the ruler of the planet? There is (in a way), although it might be hard to call it a “religion”. But I’ll just leave this as a teaser for now.

I just put this bumper sticker on my car, created and ordered on CafePress about a week ago. I like how the sticker is nerdy and political, yet still ambiguous as to which political “side” its poking fun at. I like to think of it as the trump card in the “God Bless America”, “God Bless the Whole World” series. There could be multiple Universes, but that’s difficult to prove for the time being.