Showing posts with label religion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label religion. Show all posts

Friday, October 26, 2007

New Age or More Old Age; underpinning Market Values


I do not like to be negative. To put people down who are trying to make sense of life. And in our present society anyone who advocates a balanced and integrated lifestyle has to be lauded. But that said I cannot help but hear that old cynical whisper when confronted with the New Age – Complementary movement. Now many New Agers would, no doubt, attribute this to my bad karma. Past lives of disbelief and scepticism. And fundamentalists of all persuasions would probably say the same voice was the devil whispering in my ear. But there is cynicism and there is healthy scepticism.

If any one figure of the New Age movement gets the cynical whispers going in me it is that of Deepak Chopra. Mr Chopra is a qualified medical doctor – a graduate from no less than the All India Institute of Medical Sciences; a prestigious institution by all accounts. However Mr Chopra does not actually practice medicine. No! he heads up the Chopra Institute for Well-Being. Their mission statement, to paraphrase, focuses on ‘enhancing health and the spirit’. It does this by ‘bringing together the talents of a number of professionals in the conventional, complementary, and alternative medicine fields’ It also offers, ‘health workshops, meditation instruction, hospital program development, and corporate training courses’.

I have nothing personal against Dr Chopra. In fact perhaps he gets the cynical whispers going because I cannot so quickly dismiss him. He does not, for example, wave tarot cards in your face, advocate the properties of certain crystals, or claim to go into a trance from which he drags up vague bits of mumbo-jumbo that could mean anything.

My first encounter with Deepak came through a friend. Might I say a good friend and genuinely well meaning person. ‘You must read this,’ she said. So I suspended my ‘oh yeah’ attitude and took the book she offered and promised to read. The Seven Spiritual Laws of Success: A Pocketbook Guide to Fulfilling Your Dreams (One Hour of Wisdom). It did not take me long. I think I hoped it would take longer. I managed to go through it in a lunch break. In between sandwiches and Moroccan-Spice soup. The result of which was, well, I waited for the wisdom.

It appeared to me, in his book, Deepak mixed a gentle dash of Indian mysticism into a generous soup of libertarianism and good business sense. As far as I could understand he claimed that health and wealth depend very much on our attitudes, our openness to the Universal life-force. If we thought positive thoughts positive things would come to us. If we were open to abundance then abundance would find us. Ill health and poverty were of our own making. Not to say influenced by karma.

Some of this is not new. The concept of a positive attitude and thinking still lingers in many of our cherished values. In fact elements of this belief can be traced through Adam Smith’s Wealth of Nations to the Victorian concept of deserved wealth and self-help. It remains today embedded in the dialogue between left and right; at least in Europe. (except of course for the karma bit). But whereas most Victorian capitalists believed that the wretched and poor were wretched and poor because they did not work hard enough, drank too much, fornicated too much, none of them, as far as I can see, had the temerity to suggest that their condition was based on as intangible a concept as karma and past lives. Neither did they suggest anything to do with the Universal Life-Force. God was evoked, but generally as punishment for not trying. The belief in hard work did allow one an attempt at remedying one’s lot. Work harder man! With drink or fornication one could make an effort to desist. Self-discipline young fellow, self-discipline! (I mention males as females generally only officially begin to exist around the beginning of the 20th century). Established religion’s efforts were often aimed at supporting the above. However misguided.
No! I found Dr Chopra’s ideas rather flimsy. A bit too easy. All very well for these who apparently were making a tidy bundle from this ‘philosophy’. Comfortable justification for their success and material abundance?

Let us take the question of health for instance. The idea that good health has nothing to do with access to adequate and quality health care seems to fly in the face of post-enlightenment reason. It also contradicts sound science. Despite notions of karma and past lives antibiotics work on any body to which they are administered. Surgery removes tumours regardless of any alleged shenanigans in a patient’s previous life. Good sanitation and timely inoculation prevent the spread of disease whether karma determines people are deserving or not. Prompt admission to hospital in the case of sudden illness and access to quality care can make the difference between life and death; the difference between grieving loved ones and relived loved ones. Even if you were the biggest rogue in your last life those close to you love you in this one. My point being human intervention and effort make a difference.

What is really worrying is that elements of this type of ‘philosophy’ casually vindicate the driving market values that underpin so many 21st century approaches to social policy making. They tie in neatly with the downsizing of funding for health services, the increasing privatising of health care access and the belief (albeit unexamined) that only those with the wealth and power are deserving of what some consider to be at least one of a person’s inalienable rights; the right to health.
They also justify the increasing gap between those who have and those who have not. They suggest that if you are doing well it has been ordained by some un-interrogatable and unseen power. So you need not worry about how others live. Or what the long-term consequences of a dissatisfied and disenfranchised underclass would be. Or of the values being instilled into your children and grandchildren and what that might mean for the future.
Education is subject to the same pressures. Gone is the idea of a Universal system. Private academies and faith-based institutions are the shout of the day.

Where one can argue coherently that society should not be expected to provide the luxuries of life, the consumer perks etc without asking we make our contribution, that we show some initiative, that we work for them, health and in a wider sense well-being are all our right.

The New Age movement makes much of its belief in or a sense of a Universal Good. Yet it has proved itself skilled at positioning itself as arbiter of that good and then getting others to pay for it. It caters perfectly to those who already have all the basics. Now that you have the two cars, the luxury home, the twice yearly holidays why not add a little spirituality?
The Chopra Institute for Well-Being for example, currently offers ‘The Secret of Enlightenment’, a three day course for a throwaway $4575 – that is if you register early; otherwise it will cost a mere snippet at $4775. Or what about the five day ‘Perfect Health Program’ starting at $2875 and rising to $3475. Though rest assured an Ayurvedic spa treatment and two Ayurvedic lunches are thrown in.

Now it would be very cynical to suggest that in the case of Deepak Chopra, had he practised what he trained for, he would probably be just another doctor wrestling daily with people’s illnesses and misfortunes; that the lure of minor celebrity was just too much to resist. He would certainly have missed out on the poetry recordings with Madonna, Demi Moore, Sinead O’Connor, Angelica Huston plus the chance to author countless ‘mystical style’ books. He would also have passed up the opportunity to make many TV appearances, go into business with Richard Branson and co-write the script of a yet to be seen film entitled Buddha. But that perhaps is his karma.

I do not want to suggest that Dr Chopra is a charlatan, let alone accuse. (though I cannot be so sure about others who fall under the New Age – Complementary banner). But in our age of fascination with celebrity, with wealth, with luxury, in our consumer society of countless facile choices I do not think it is wild to say that the self-delusional, like the poor, are still with us. Dr Chopra and some of his fellow travellers have fallen headlong into a ready-made market. Justifying wealth without responsibility, health without conscience and a spirituality that condones our excesses and assures us we are basically fine as we are. What they prescribe is a little meditation, a workshop or two and some ‘complementary’ products from the shop. All with the patronage of those who can afford to indulge such illusions. And some who have a vested interest in keeping such illusions alive.

Hence the cynical whispers. Hence the past life scepticism. Hence the devil whispering in my ear.

I, for one, still believe, fairness and equality in society are things we must work and strive for. In my way I do believe in karma – that is, cause and effect. The society we get is the society we are prepared to believe in, the society we are prepared to take responsibility for.


Copyright (C) Peter Millington Oct 2007

Sunday, July 30, 2006

god, the devil and George Bush

god, the devil and George Bush


Unlike George Bush. I do not believe in God. Not the personal sort anyway. The sort you talk to.


If there is a God, she must be so far beyond our understanding, our conception, well I have things enough to occupy my mind. But sometimes when on the Underground or a bus, or when I should be working, I find my mind wandering to those scenarios some of us grew up with. (Maybe too many of us grew up with). God, ( a sort of grandfather), in heaven – white and robed and bearded, sitting on a throne that floats on a cloud or collection of clouds. The angels are strumming their harps, filing their nails, or cleaning the feathers of their wings. And of course St Peter is endlessly busy at the pearly gates.

I think of the early church fathers, or popes, or whatever, who thought this up. Or maybe it was the anchorites, hermits, self-flagellants. What was in their drinking water? Did any of them really think. . . well. . . . that it could be true? The anomalies are all there. I do not mean the theological anomalies. As in, if God made the universe and was omniscient did he not foresee the occurrence of evil. And if he made the universe and was the father of all souls and instructed us to love one another were then those who did ‘evil’ not worthy also of our love. Should we not love them more? In fact spend as much time with them as possible. As for Judas, well without Judas the divine plan for covering up the initial oversight of original sin would have come to nothing. Imagine, at the last moment before delivering that fateful kiss, Judas sees the light. Or chickens out. ‘Drat and double drat,’ thinks God, ‘now my plan for the salvation and redemption of mankind is up the creek.’

No. I mean the real anomalies. For example would St Peter not have been somewhat overwhelmed dealing with an endless stream of souls all on his own? What would he have done during wars or natural disasters, when obviously it would have been extra busy. Perhaps there was a heavenly temp agency he could call on. Or what would have happened, when, being a pillar of the church, Latin-speaking St Peter was confronted with a French speaking peasant. ‘Have you lived a good life my friend?’ ‘Pardon.’ ‘No, no. You must speak Latin. L-a-t-i-n.’ ‘Ah oui. Le Latin. In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen.’ ‘Yes, that’s very good but what about your life. Have – you – lived – a – good - life?’ ‘Pardon?’

More importantly, where did God get the throne? Did he choose it from an Ikea catalogue? or the tenth century version thereof. Did the delivery man move awkwardly from foot to foot at the bottom of the stairs leading to the pearly gates, muttering beneath his breath, ‘if you want me to carry it up them stairs mate it’s going to cost ya.’ And as for the harps. Are they ordered in bulk or does each angel have to bring their own? Plus every school-child knows a throne cannot float on clouds. Clouds only appear solid because of their distance. They are a collection of water droplets, vapour.

‘ But yes,’ the faithful reply, ‘the normal rules do not apply in heaven’. ‘You mean it’s a sort of magic.’ I say. ‘It’s extra-temporal.’ ‘Mmmm, like Santa Claus or what passes for music on today’s radio.’ (Though that has more do to with the Trade Descriptions Act than magic!)

On those long bus or train journeys or those even longer days toward the end of the month, (yea I have walked through the valley of death and it was a desert but on the thirty-first day a pay-check did come and indicated a measly amount had been made over to my bank account and that I would prosper and continue another three weeks), I find my mind wandering and longing. If only it were true. If only there was such a God. With his pearly gates and angels. What’s more, what would it be like if this God had a sense of humour. So I dream.

I see God hiding behind a column of the pearly gates with this favourite angels. There he is peeping around, his great white beard almost touching the ground. ‘Careful Gabriel you’re wings are showing,’ he whispers. He has given St Peter a day off. ‘Relax, relax. A saint needs a rest. Take a break. Go see your mother. Watch a movie. There’s a remake coming up of the Exo. . . .Exoc. . . you know the one I mean. Put the fear of me in you.’

St John is watching on the CCTV. ‘Shush, shush someone is coming’,’ he calls. They wait eagerly. Expectantly.

‘Can you see yet,’ asks God. ‘Who is it?’ There is a moment of silence. ‘Oh Jesus,’ giggles St John, ‘it’s him. God clears his throat, somewhat ominously. St John looks up. ‘Oh. . . ahm.. . .yes. Sorry, sorry.’

‘Ok, ok. But who is it,’ whispers God fiercely.

‘It’s him,’ replies St John. ‘The infallible one.’

‘Alex Ferguson?’

‘No. You're thinking of Jose Mourhino. And he's the special one. No the other. Who doesn’t play football. Wears a red and white frock with gold brocade. Carries a big stave. Came after the Pole.’

‘You mean? No!’

‘Yep. Him. Benedict XVI.’

God rubs his hands in glee. He turns to the angels. ‘Quick my sweethearts, I have an idea. One of you, a costume change.’

Pope Benedict comes slowly up the steps. There is a look of calm self-assurance upon his face. Self-satisfaction. Sanctity. Like a rich man about to buy the biggest car in the showroom. He reaches the top. Then his jaw drops. His eyes open wide. The blood drains from his face.

For in place of St Peter is Martin Luther. Wearing a leather jumpsuit. A Zapata moustache and a gold earring. He is on his mobile phone. (Motorola V3i – pink - of course) A cigarette dangles between the fingers of his absurdly limp wrist. (Larry Grayson’s Generation Game was very popular in heaven during the seventies.)

‘He did zat. Did he? Oh ze bitch!’ Martin Luther is saying.

He catches sight of Benedict.

‘Hans I must go. I have eine customer. I vill see you zis evening darling. Love you too. Do not forget. Bring ze Kylie CDs.’

He turns to the Pope.

‘Ja. Can I help you?’

Pope Benedict is speechless. He has gone a grey colour.

Behind the Pearly Gates God and his angels are doubled over. Tears come from their eyes. ‘The look on his face,’ exclaims God between peals of laughter. The angels roll around clutching their sides.

You can imagine many such scenarios. Dr Ian Paisley filling in the entry form. ‘Just a small amount of paperwork sir,’ says a suited and sensibly–shoed angel. We need your most recent address, date of birth and signature. Oh yes and please remember to tick the - I accept the terms and conditions - box.’

‘And what would those terms and conditions be?’ thunders the good (note; do not take literally) reverend.

‘A mere formality sir,’ replies the angel. ‘You see God and his angels and most of the heavenly host are of the Roman Catholic persuasion and we do ask those of our entrants who are not of that persuasion to desist from making any defamatory comments while here. It could be somewhat upsetting.’

‘And if I don’t?’ booms that infamous voice.

‘Oh then,’ says the angel, its lip puckering. ‘There is always. . . you know, the other place. Down below. ‘

‘Do you mean hell? Speak plainly man.’

‘Hell. Oh no. Certainly not,' replies the angel, smiling superciliously. 'I mean Torremolinos. It is certainly not as busy as it once was. And there are extra cheap packages now. Though I have heard it is rather slack on the air-conditioning during the summer. Not unlike the Piccadilly Line.’

All of which brings me back to George Bush. It would be funny to see him stand before the pearly gates and the look of stupefaction (I mean no irony) on his face when greeted with a middle-eastern looking man with a long greying beard bursting out from under his Kuffiyeh. He peers at George with dark, smouldering eyes. He is wearing army fatigues and has a Kalashnikov over his shoulder. Suddenly he smiles. ‘Yo Bush,’ he says.

For after the debacle of Iraq it now seems we are about to slide into another debacle in Lebanon. Condi was bristling yesterday, (July 27), when Kofi-Anan said that any agreement should include Syria and Iran. Not so think the Americans. They will do it their way.

No doubt George will be talking with God again. (The Santa Claus God that is, not the one with the sense of humour). He has been listening too by the hole in the wall next to Dick and Don’s office; the corporate and military boys. With Israel involved we can expect that old chestnut about divine guidance of the US’s foreign policy to resurface. For the Bush administration the devil is certainly not in the detail. But Condi’s body language suggests it believes the curious smell of sulphur recently has been coming from the vicinity of Tehran and Damascus. Certainly not from Washington or Tel-Aviv. And as one born-again Christian told me recently, ‘the Devil is real you know’

I do not know what worries me more. The fact that the president of the world’s remaining superpower would believe this sort of nonsense. Or that the administration is sufficiently cynical to manipulate public opinion with it. And there’s the rub. For if enough of that country’s electorate is so disengaged from reality they accept that their president (a small, somewhat inarticulate rich-kid) has a hot line to the Christian God, then the rest of the community is deprived of a genuine ethical position. Mr Blair will no doubt bend backwards as he has done before so as not to alienate the poor man. Chirac will flounce about, trying to appear statesmanlike and sartorial at the same time, one eye on France’s Muslims. Merkel is an unknown quantity. However the UN will be pushed to the back like a flower-girl at her ex’s wedding.

But none of this will matter. For in middle-America they will be praying. And when George tells them that he too has had word from God then they will know that Santa Claus will be coming down the chimney as usual this Christmas. All is well. The destruction, the suffering, the poverty caused by pursuit of the Unites States's long term strategic and military interests in the middle-east will be made light of. They will become necessary ‘difficulties’ on the road to ‘freedom.’ Hey, we might even throw in complimentary bibles. Or double-episode DVDs of Stargate.

Me. Well I will return to wondering how the hell, (sorry, I mean heaven) He, (the one with the sense of humour), got that throne up the stairs and onto the cloud, as I sit back and clean the feathers of my wings.


Copyright (C) Peter Millington 2006