Follow Me
Religion’s Guru Problem
After watching the first episode of Netflix’s Messiah I was struck by how much the messiah character behaved like Jesus. But not in a good way. The Netflix messiah preached humility but practiced the opposite. When one follower calls him “Imam” he tells the man that they are actually equal. But he treats him — along with the rest of his flock — like mindless cattle. He issues orders without explanations. He leads them all into the desert without telling them why or even talking to them at all. And when one disciple expresses misogyny he brutally kicks the crap out of him — again without explanation or mercy.
When I compared this behavior with that of the biblical Jesus, I was struck — not by the contrast but by the similarity. Each believes himself to be a on a mission from god. Each is secretive and demands total obedience and loyalty. Each sometimes berates his followers, either for their failures to perform or for not being able to read his superior mind. Each expects his followers to abandon everything to follow him, with no explanation or promise of support — simply for the privilege of being in his presence.
To me, this is the behavior of an egotist. As an agnostic, I don’t find this behavior endearing in either messiah.
And yet we follow.
Exploiting Our DNA
We are a herd species, programmed to identify the strongest and smartest among us and follow them. It’s a survival strategy that works. We follow our leaders in every realm of life — parents, teachers, bosses, priests, military commanders, civil authorities, scientists, doctors, lawyers, counselors — anyone who we perceive knows more and can do better than we can. But the strategy also has a dark side.
For just as there is a continuum between a religion and a cult, there is also a continuum between a leader and a guru.
Before we know it, our survival instinct to follow a leader turns into a slavish obsession to serve a master. We become convinced not of our own worth and ability, but of our deficiency and helplessness without the guru. Eventually, we have surrendered total control, and the guru takes pride in showing off this perverse accomplishment.
Teach Me
Religion certainly has no monopoly on gurus. We are also programmed to listen to someone who claims they can teach us how to get rich, how to boost our self confidence, how to boost our self confidence in order to get rich, how to beat death, how to contact space aliens, or how to survive a coming apocalypse. And then we’re off! We are following these gurus down rabbit holes of ever more twisted beliefs, signing over our savings, eating only raw foods, or drinking silver to protect our brains from the reptilians’ mind control conspiracy.
Because the guru told us to. And we believe everything the guru says, because they have proven themselves wiser than ourselves. Especially on the matter of their infinite superiority to us and how little and lost we would be without them. So we want their acceptance and their approval — we need it just like a child needs it from a parent.
Other people just don’t get it. They call it a cult.
The difference between secular and religious cults seems to be only a matter of scale. Raw food adherents don’t fly jumbo jets into buildings. Get-rich-quick scheme addicts don’t give their 12-year-old daughters to their gurus as a “bride.” Members of UFO contact cults don’t shun their family members who refuse to believe.
For this level of evil you need not only a god, but self-proclaimed prophets of that god.
From Shepherd to Wolf
Where is the line between a religious leader and a dangerous guru? It appears to be blurry. In Christianity, we can follow the spectrum through a progression of familiar characters. There is the priest or pastor who is beloved, not just by his church but by the whole community for his care and efforts on their behalf. This guy is probably someone whose fire is lit by helping people. Then there is the pastor whose parishioners start way too many sentences with “Pastor says.” Apparently this guy discourages his flock from thinking for themselves. Next we have the pastor who keeps promising his church that god will bless them if they give him some kind of “seed,” usually accompanied by a dollar amount. This guy’s goal is to get on TV, where a lot more people can send him seeds. Further along the continuum is the pastor who claims she can heal by the laying on of hands. No need for expensive doctors while she’s around! And finally, the category winner — the prophet of god who declares that Jesus will return on a certain date. Now everybody sell everything you own and gather on this hilltop to await Jesus’ coming in the clouds. And don’t worry about that money. It’ll end up in good hands.
It is said that “power corrupts.” I have always had a problem with that proverb, because it seems to me that not everyone is equally corruptible. I like the more nuanced version that asserts “corruptible people pursue power.” The evidence aligns more closely with this explanation.
A Risky System
Since the dawn of civilization spiritual wisdom has been passed down in person from teacher to student. Socrates taught Plato who in turn taught Aristotle. Like Jesus, Buddha also had a core of key disciples who followed him in a teacher/student relationship. Carlos Castaneda was discipled by Don Juan. All of these relationships produced valuable spiritual insights for all humanity. But this very same teacher/student model also produces suicide bombers, wicked gurus, and brainwashed devotees.
Because if we are honest with ourselves, we will acknowledge that our pursuit of wisdom is not pure. It is laden with emotional and psychological complications. Gurus know this. They understand that if they give us the emotional drugs we crave, we will believe anything else that comes out of their mouths.
They are thus able to use their “wisdom” as a cover for predation, enticing our senses and our psyches with showmanship and manipulation. Or they may just deceive us into believing that a $700 workshop with them will enable us to find the key to happiness and attain magical powers.
Litmus Test
I believe that everyone’s path through life and enlightenment is unique. Others may have valuable insight that can benefit our journey, but their particular path or program is unlikely to be an ideal fit for us. Therefore I’m suspicious of anyone on a stage with a microphone charging fees to teach us how to fit ourselves into their particular system. And as for anointing themselves with the authority of a god, well, enough said.
Personally, if I discovered some profound spiritual truth, I would just write it down, making it available to everyone. The last thing I would feel like doing would be dragging myself all over the country presenting workshops and seminars or exalting myself as some kind of prophet. If I did choose to become a spiritual leader, I hope I would treat my followers with humility and respect, recognizing that they may also have something to teach me. I can’t see myself demanding blind obedience or manipulating followers’ psychological needs to make them dependent upon me. As for cameras, screens, stages, stadiums, and private jets: those are for politicians and entertainers, not soul whisperers.
In my book, the traveling shaman on the stage is not a prophet sharing wisdom. This is someone who is at best just trying to make a living, and at worst, striving to become a powerful and wealthy guru.
I just don’t equate spiritual peace and wisdom with trying to become rich and famous on the guru circuit.
If someone really had gotten fabulously rich off their “secret” investment strategy, why are they not out enjoying it instead of dragging themselves through endless airports and hotel lobbies trying to get me to try it? I apply the same standard to those who would teach us the secrets of happiness, godliness, or wisdom. If her spiritual revelation is so true and powerful, why is she pursuing fame, fortune, and power? What religion or spiritual system in the history of the Earth taught that?
A Safer Route
My personal solution to this fatal flaw in the sharing of spiritual wisdom is distance learning. I avoid the face to face. If I think a spiritual leader has something to say that’s interesting or relevant to me, I read their books. Then I can digest it at my own pace in my own way, without the interference of emotions or a personal relationship. I can then discuss these ideas and experiences with other fellow travelers without the threat of manipulation by a predatory “master.”
This then, is my personal secret to spiritual growth — to follow our teachers and leaders, but from a safe distance.
