Dear Matt,
I am trying to form a relationship with the outrage through my relationship to you, but I can't say I understand why you are so upset.
Dear Wondergirl,
I have been trying to puzzle out why I am so upset, as well. I just lost a long reply due to a browser crash (but it was probably too pedantic anyways
). In any case, I do have an especially negative and powerful emotional reaction to Christianity's history of iniquity and atrocity. On one hand, I think the facts of Christian history (once one actually knows them and piles them up into a tell-tale mountain of horror) provide a rational reason for outrage at Christianity. And I don't mean just the purges of millions of innocent people, but also the shift of wealth over to a tiny priestly elite, the moral, psychological, and economic oppression of millions of people, the intellectual and scientific destruction of Western culture, and Neoplatonic/Augustinian shattering of the intuitive bond between human and nature (e.g., the body, the environment, other species, "woman", one's fellow human beings with other belief systems or ethnicities, etc.). Christianity is, of course, not solely to blame for any of these atrocities, but Christian beliefs and dogmas served as ideal tools that enabled people of power and prejudice to carry out these acts and feel holy while doing it.
And there is no indication (as many like to believe) that Christianity went sour after an early Golden Age. There is every indication that the notions of a Ken Humphreys are correct, i.e., Christianity (at least as a "Church" movement from the late 1st century on) began in fabrication for the sake of deceit and usurpation that would enable a greedy, ambitious priestly class to obtain massive political power and wealth. I know this is debatable (and believers will do everything they can to reject it), but from my research, I would say that this origin scenario for Christianity is highly probably and absolutely logical considering the evidence we have. That is, it is not a wild conspiracy theory, but a deduction based on widely available data.
It seems to me that Christianity was largely a hard sell scam from the beginning . . . very much like today's pyramid schemes. Amway is an ideal model. Amway has always attracted many devotees to its ideology, true believers . . . but the vast majority of these true believers (who believe so strongly that they go out to convert others to the "cause") get shafted. That's the way the pyramid hierarchy works . . . is designed to work. Only the people at the top of the pyramid profit. If you have ever been propositioned by an Amway representative team (and they like to work in small groups just like evangelists), you know that they use a technique that is exactly the same as the Christian evangelical technique of fishing for converts. The low level Amway reps are like cultic diehards. They actually believe the propaganda sales pitches they spew . . . with true religious mania. Only the top level people at Amway really understand how the corporation works . . . and that it works only for the higher-ups (as it is specifically designed to).
Amway (or whatever they call themselves now) is one of the wealthiest, most prosperous corporations in the world . . . and it should come as no surprise that they have been major funders of the right-wing Christian evangelical power-play on Washington.
All those poor schlubs who sell Amway and barely make a profit (if at all) are filled with ecstatic religious exuberance. They believe absolutely in the good of the Amway system. They are the Hosanna Chorus for the company propaganda that the higher-ups understand is only a tool to fill their coffers. The success of these higher-ups is dependent upon the grunts on the front line being totally indoctrinated into the cult of Amway. They are not to question, not to think, only believe and evangelize (sell).
So my outrage at Christianity is based on seeing Christianity like a pyramid scheme. I feel sorry for the Amway-like low-level evangelizers and true believers who are selling (and usually also
buying) Amway products and doctrines. I'm not upset at them. I'm sure many of them are really decent people with high morals and big hearts (I've know one specifically, and feel incredibly sorry that she was suckered into this scheme). But the true price of Amway/Christianity is much greater than it might at first seem. These pawns of the power structure are being used, yes, but they (through their own naivete and desire to believe in something that gives their lives larger meaning) end up becoming part of the blind army of a doctrine that is ultimately greedy, manipulative, heartless, unethical, and corrupt.
If the grunts on the front line were to all suddenly wake up to the true reality of Amway/Christianity, the entire institution would crumble. The institution is ultimately a construction dependent on their ignorance and indoctrination. The top level people are certainly "evil", but they can only harm others, because of the blindness of the sheep who empower them. And one can't touch these top levelers. They don't care who criticizes them. No outsider has power over them. The sheep will always gather around to defend their shepherds to the death (even against their own best interests). The sheep won't believe any ill of their keepers . . . and have even been trained to hate those that would speak such ill (or heresy).
And the higher-ups understand perfectly how the system works. The only people who have the power to hurt them are the sheep themselves . . . and only if they manage to band together heretically to lay siege to the power structure. So the only hope for conscience and ethicality, the only hope to reform the system can come in the attempt to bring consciousness to the sheep (which they will fight tooth and nail, probably to the death).
I don't think this kind of effort can really come from outsiders like me (non-Christians or atheists). Our antagonism will only be dismissed by believers as prejudice or malice (and there is no doubt a great deal of prejudice and malice directed at Christianity from atheists, skeptics, and rationalists). But there are very few Christians who can fully recognize the shadow of Christianity and feel that this shadow creates an obligation in them. Many people simply leave the fold (usually only blatant hypocrisy or repression is enough to disenfranchise them) . . . and sever themselves from any feeling of obligation to Christianity, because they no longer take anything from Christianity (I think of my wife for instance, who was raised Catholic, but now despises or cares nothing about things Christian).
But I feel that those Christians who want to make Christianity (even in a very personalized, non-dogmatic way) a meaningful part of their lives also inherit an obligation to be responsible for the faith they adopt. And one of those responsibilities would be first learning everything one can about the Christian shadow, and then trying to help other Christians find a way to try to "repent" for this or strive to correct it. I think that when we take on a belief system, we take on its collectivity, its weight. We bear it up, we are cogs in its Huge Machine. We are responsible for a thing (even well beyond our personal use of it) if we are in any way buoying it or being buoyed by it. Even a very personalized and mystical Christianity is in some sense adding to the foundation of the entire institution . . . an institution that has sinned greatly. To inherit the mythos is to inherit the sin. It gives a whole new (and much greater) meaning to the notion of "picking up one's cross".
What to do about this (mostly people will just reject the idea that their small usurpation demands any "giving back") is a matter for each individual to figure out independently, I think. Yes, it would be very hard. I'm not sure what to do (which is why I sacrificed most of this mythos). The only thing I feel I can do is to raise a little consciousness in a community that embraces Christianity only tangentially (i.e., the Jungian community). I figure it's probably worth agitating a bit. It's not about "saving souls" or even rationally knowing the "truth" or pursuing gnosis. I think it's more about accepting responsibility for the things we are a part of. It's simply an obligation of consciousness, an asking of: what am I really giving to the collective and what impact might this gift be having? It's a judging of one's own actions by what effects they have on others or down the road somewhere. It's a matter of saying, "The spiritual pursuit is not ultimately (or even primarily) about
me. The pursuit of the spirit is part of an obligation to others, to treat others decently, invest value in them."
Yes, we need to find our centers, find a way to get meaning into our lives in order to be able to do this effectively . . . but these pursuits of self (in my opinion) are not ends in themselves. To treat them as such or to make self-fulfillment (even in the spiritual realm) the ultimate goal of one's life is eventually an act of narcissism and unconsciousness. A "sin" if you prefer. We lie to ourselves when we say these pursuits are for our god most of all.
But again, I don't mean to be giving prescriptions. This is merely how I would react if I was inclined to adopt the Christian mythos for my own meaning-making. As an example that this is not a "judging of others" or some kind of hypocrisy, I point simply to this forum. I call myself a Jungian even though I have a number of (sometimes significant) disagreements and divergences from Jung. I'm probably about as heretical as a Jungian can be and still be considered a Jungian (many Jungians probably wouldn't even feel I deserved to call myself a Jungian).
But I wear this often ill-fitting suit because I see it as my obligation to try to give back to Jung and Jungian thinking. My position is generally reformist . . . and I feel an obligation to see Jung and his ideas as clearly as I can. I do not want to be a Jungian apologist . . . but I see many contributions that Jung made to human thought and understanding that have been inadequately understood or actively misused. I don't have a great deal of power or even intelligence (and I have no credentials of note), but I will do what I can to try to progressively and usefully critique Jung's ideas and fill them out where I think this is needed. This puts me into direct conflict with more conventional and devout Jungians (and I have already been banned from one Jungian forum). I am a Jungian heretic. Even though this creates tension and even tends to function as a detriment to my own devotion to or use of Jungian psychology, I see it as the obligation of consciousness within the collective that I see myself as part of.
Additionally, I run a poetry site that is unequivocally "the most hated site in poetry" (because it tries to take an ethical stand against the way business is being done in the poetry world). I have taken much the same approach to American poetry through that site as I am taking to Jungian psychology through this site. The site is about to close down, regrettably, because those of us who run it did not receive enough useful community support to make much of a difference. It is very hard for me to give up on it, but as I have not been writing or reading poetry for years now, I figured I was too distant, too much of an outsider to really make an impact. That is, I left the collective . . . and with it, my obligation to that collective. As an outsider and non-poet, I could not identify with the group enough to be recognized by it as a member. And tribes don't listen to outsiders.
Perhaps it is just a silly, chivalric romanticism that makes me feel such an obligation to the groups and systems of thought I draw meaning and energy from . . . but that is simply the way I seem to work. And it doesn't feel like a rational, reasoned decision to me. It feels like a karmic debt.
My outrage at Christianity is probably still tangible because of how much Christianity means to Jungian psychology. Also, I have undergone my own individuation process with deep Christian foundations (insomuch as alchemy is partially rooted in Gnostic and medieval Christianity). On top of that, one can never grow up in a Christian culture (unless protected by the bubble of some other minority faith) and not be at least an "honorary Christian". Our society is still structured by the Christianization of nearly two millennia ago. Christianization and Christian power are written in our cultural bones.
Also, as an American, I live in a country where Christianity is creating a national (and soon to be,
world) crisis. I belong to the American collective. I pay taxes to the U.S. government, I benefit from a relatively safe and prosperous environment afforded me because I live in America. I am not an ex-patriot. I therefore inherit America's shadow to some degree. If my beliefs have absorbed unconscious American ideals, I become a part of the pillar that the American shadow stands on. Again, I see this as karmic. I am obliged by consciousness of the American shadow to do something to correct it. I am obliged to no help hold up the pillars of its sinfulness, at the very least. On this front I have done very little . . . and to this degree, I have sinned. The karmic weight of my obligation to America is heavier than it is for the other groups I belong to.
All I have done is tried to learn the truth about American history and politics . . . and to feed my consciousness and writing with this knowledge as much as possible. But this is not enough. It is not repentant or reformative. I take far more from America (for my independence and individuality) than I manage to give back. I feel like I am still in negotiation with America for my status as an individual, for the details of my allotted relationship with it. I am still leaving the American nest . . . or rather, I have left, but I have not found a way to become independently empowered as an American, so I have not been able to return to it as a separate, valid entity. As an American, I am merely a
thief. I've been banking on my abilities as a writer to formulate a voice that can "speak back" to America (just as one must have true power and status as an individual to speak back to God).
But America (in essence) determines who will be permitted to be its opposing voices (and grants individuals status at its whim). Currently in America, poets and Jungians have no right to individuality. They are silenced. A few Jungians have poked through (Robert Bly, maybe James Hillman, Marian Woodman, etc.), but I'm not sure these voices were allowed into the American consciousness because they were Jungian. These popular Jungians have found enterprising ways of selling their ideas to the American public . . . and that's what America likes. Commodification. Inject your offering with a bit of the entrepreneurial spirit, and it gets a stamp of approval. You can be as radical and individual as you like in the collective . . . if you can direct your individualism at a market.
Not to pick on the authors above (who have all contributed worthy ideas and writings), but this is one of the things that has damaged Jungian thinking. At least in America, Jung has to sell . . . and the market that will pay for Jungian ideas is the New Age self-help market. The great longing of this market makes its pillars (the people who buy its products) very susceptible to salesmanship. But the market thrives because the longing is never satisfied by the products sold to it. The vast majority of these products have to perpetuate the longing, the spiritual emptiness, in order for the market to stay solvent and profitable. As long as that profitability is maintained (with manipulative crap for the most part), a few good works can still slip in under the radar. That's how consciousness is raised in America: through the loopholes in the market.
But the situation is much worse for American poetry today, for instance. Poetry has no marketability, so it can afford no loopholes. Poets today can't raise (spiritual) consciousness with their poetry. They can't make meaning. There is no audience of others in the poetry world. The market is contained within academia. It's a purely professional market, read and created by professionals and experts only. It self-sustains this way, but can never profit. Since it can't profit, it can't allow diversity and new vision into its arena. Even the government grants given to poets go into perpetuating the closed system, feeding the already well-fed, academic poet-professors (the grant committees are all chaired and judged by poet-professors, after all).
Which is all to say that America affords poets no status as American individuals (which is why poets have turned to teaching to achieve their status in America) . . . which means it provides no real market for speaking to America through poetry.
Regrettably, I wasted a small hunk of my life learning this miserable lesson . . . by investing my aspirations for American individualism in a dead end (I have a long poem about this called "
What Has Happened in Heaven" if you're interested in the theatrical version
). But one learns a lot about the group (and one's own) shadow through failures like these. Failures, falls, and foolishness of all kinds make for a strong foundation for consciousness (as long as one can process the pain).
Yours,
Matt