ILLUSION IN THE FREUDIAN THEORY OF RELIGION con’t…

Read Part One here.

Freud put forth some intriguing ideas about the origin, motivation and tenacity of religion.  He has, however, been harshly criticized for his lack of validity, and some have suggested that he, himself, engaged in mythologizing and counter-narration of already established myths. A brief overview of the validity of his work in terms of its ‘historical’ accuracy and evidentiary value will demonstrate that much of his theories are based on unsubstantiated reconstructions of Biblical history and weak scientific inquiry.  Despite these weaknesses, it will be suggested that the primary benefit of Freud’s theory doesn’t lie in its robust application, historical accuracy or scientism, but rather its use of illusion and fantasy as an explanatory mechanism of religious motivations.

In his critical appraisal of Freud’s theory, Michael Palmer suggested that there are three types of evidence that Freud provided in support of his hypotheses – anthropological, historical and psychological.[1]  Indeed, several scholars and authors have criticized Freud for the lack of validity in the evidence he used to put forth his ideas.  Using Palmer’s triad, a brief examination of these components will assist in ascertaining as to what extent Freud’s theory is rooted in the scientific paradigm of which he so staunchly advocated and to the veracity of his application of anthropological considerations.

From the overview of Freud’s work presented at the beginning of this paper, one of the anthropological foundations of his theory rests on the notion of a primal horde.  This Darwinian idea allowed Freud to substantiate his Oedipal theory which would become his psychoanalytic basis for religion.  While Darwin’s postulations are intriguing, it is important to point out that there is little valid data to support the universality of the primal horde.  In fact, research has demonstrated a remarkable variation in the social organization of primates,[2] and while there is noticeable similarity between the social organization of some primates and that of very early man, the generalization of this observation in Freud’s account is highly misleading.  Freud does not shy away from universal application of this sort, and this manifests as a blatant weakness in his theories.  When examining the matrilineal family structure of some societies, the theory of primal hordes fails miserably.  In these societies, the women provide authority and discipline for the clans.[3]  This suggests a fundamental flaw in Freud’s attempt to apply such reductionist ideas to the highly dynamic nature of social structures and its various components, such as religion.

Paul Ricoeur, who has written extensively about Freud’s theories, suggested that, “…the truth is that the primal parricide is merely an event constructed out of ethnological scraps….”[4]  Freud attempted to integrate his father complex (Oedipal) ideas with several observations taken from the social scientific realm in order to further validate his claim that the foundation of religion was rooted in supressed childhood wishes.  The problem with Freud’s attempt isn’t the fact that he looked for evidence to support his claims, but rather that the evidence he used wasn’t as empirical or accurate as one might expect from scientific inquiry – an inquiry of which he not only advocated, but also suggested as the only valid truth, calling it, “…our only way to the knowledge of external reality.”[5]

Perhaps, this propensity for Freud to use lacklustre science in explaining cultural phenomenon was due to the fact that his main research method was generalizing from individual case studies to the entire human population.[6]  It is little wonder that Freud employed this technique because the foundation of his practice of psychoanalysis was one of historical reconstruction through revealing the repressed past in an effort to understand one’s psychological problems in the present.  Through the use of free association, in which the patient was walked through reconstructing their past, classical psychoanalysts provided interpretations of any sensitive memories which might suggest suppressed feelings, desires or struggles.[7]

It is undeniable that one of the most obvious weaknesses of Freud’s theory is the exclusion of matriarchal societies, which speaks to the lack of universality in extending his thesis beyond paternally dominated religions, particularly of monotheistic traditions.  Interestingly, Freud acknowledged this as an issue by suggesting, “…I am at a loss to indicate the place of the great maternal deities….”[8]

Conceivably, the most controversial narrative Freud provided was the integration of his primal horde and totemism theories into a historical reconstruction of the biblical Moses.  This re-imagining of the historical origins of monotheism provides little more than an unsubstantiated counter-narrative.  Claims such as the name Moses meaning ‘child’ in Egyptian, or the fact that circumcision, which was widely practiced among Egyptian people[9] and adopted by the Jews, do not provide the evidence that Freud was desperately seeking.   Similarly, we find dubious assertions in the claims that Moses was executed by the Israelites or that the monotheism of Amentohep IV actually had an influence on the development of Judaism. Instead, Freud appropriated these biblical myths and attempted to weave a narrative of the history of religious origins which seemed to fit his psychoanalytic theory of the origin of neuroses.  His counter-narrative provided the link he required to justify his claim that religion was a neurosis of mankind.  Freud did so by providing an original sin which was repressed and remained latent, followed by a return of the repressed manifested as guilt, culminating in the establishment of an illusion as a defence against the resurfacing of these repressed memories.[10] In the story of Moses, and subsequently the story of Jesus’ execution, Freud delivered a recurrence of the memories of the first primal scene that allowed him to apply his Oedipal theory to the origins of religion.  In essence, it appears as though he has conveniently rewritten Biblical history in order to accommodate and advance his own psychoanalytic theories.  Ironically, the very nature of Freud’s theory that religion is an illusion seems to be predicated on illusory bits of history and evidence itself.

Given that Freud applied certain psychoanalytic concepts to his theory of religion, it behooves a brief examination of the criticisms and commentary that have been expended on these notions.  Many have suggested that Freud’s psychoanalysis lacked the fundamental requirements of scientific theory and empirical verification.[11]  Particularly, critics have lambasted its use of subjective interpretation of dreams and memories,[12] in addition to its use of individual case studies which were generalized to the entire human population.[13] These points assuredly strengthen the arguments criticizing psychoanalysis as an unempirical and unverifiable science, yet some of Freud’s psychoanalytic concepts do show validity in follow up studies; however, it’s the application of these concepts in which Freud erred.

The heart of Freud’s postulations on religion is embedded in the Oedipal complex theory.  Indeed, Freud, himself believed the Oedipal complex to be the single greatest claim to psychoanalytic fame.[14]  Given this grandiose claim, it’s little wonder that there has been much research around verifying its importance or, indeed, existence as part of the development of the human psyche.  Overall, research has demonstrated that there is evidence to support the existence of the Oedipal complex; however, there is little evidence to suggest that it can be generalized to all human beings, nor can it be claimed that it plays a central role in the development of mental processes.[15]

Wish fulfillment and repression are two other bases for the Freudian account of religious motivation.  The concept of wish fulfillment has been largely drawn from his work on the interpretation of dreams, specifically their latent meaning.[16]  As previously pointed out, the highly subjective nature of dream interpretation provides for an extremely weak methodology.  Clearly then, it cannot be considered scientific as such.  While we find little evidence to support the applicable robustness of either the Oedipal complex or wish fulfillment, the concept of repression as a defence mechanism has been widely recognized as verifiable.[17]

Finally, Freud adopted the concept of a collective unconscious or archaic memory heritage as the mechanism by which people acquired ideas and memories from their ancestors.  Although these theories weren’t cornerstones to psychoanalysis, they do play an integral role in his theory of religion.  Obviously, a concept of inherited memory is difficult if not impossible to test, and as such is highly unscientific.[18]

Ultimately, Freud’s psychoanalysis gravely lacks adequate application of the scientific model.  His observations were drawn from unrecorded and recollected therapy sessions with his patients, and his concepts have, for the most part, remained untestable.[19]  Thus, the bulk of Freud’s basis for his theory of religion is “…decidedly interpretative rather than empirical,”[20] because he based so much of this theory on his psychoanalytic model.

Freud clearly viewed himself as a scientist; however, he is more aptly viewed in the context of this paper as a culture theorist.  Perhaps in part due to the reductionist nature of his scientific pursuits, his cultural theories have been widely regarded as attempts to advance his own psychoanalytic model.  Additionally, his work has been accused of being piecemeal, limited in focus and the speculations of an aged man.[21] Given the aforementioned criticisms and inherent problems in his approach, is it possible to identify any worth in his theory of religion – other than merely part of the history of the psychology of religion?

Clearly, Freud’s use of psychoanalysis as a scientific explanation for the motivations and origins of religion is unfounded; however, his work is regarded as influential in the psychological study of religion because it helped advance discussion concerning the cognitive aspects of religion.  Further, it drew analogies to the inherent need of people to feel safe and secure, which is arguably an intrinsic function of religion.[22]  Ultimately, Freud’s theory of religion should not be regarded for its scientism, or for its rejection of religion as a meaningful element in human life.  It is best interpreted as a tool for understanding the manifestation of symbol systems and the use of fantasy in positive personal and social development.[23]  This stands in marked contrast to Freud’s assertion that religion functioned as a negative consequence of repressed wish fulfillments.  Thus, Freud’s theory of religion can be linked to other cognitive developmental strategies involving fantasy and illusion such as creativity and imagination, which demonstrate a vital relationship between reality and the use of fantasy in the positive development of the human being.[24]  Through re-assessing the Freudian critique of religion a new appreciation of his work as a rich account of how fantasy and illusion influence experiences of external reality can emerge.[25]

Freud may have insisted that religion has negative consequences for the individual, and indeed society, by keeping it stuck in a state of childlike dependence; however another view can be adopted – one that speaks to the unfettered power of illusion in its ability to help the human species to reconcile those aspects of life which are conceptually out of the human ability to understand.[26] Perhaps the strongest argument for this view of religion can be found in Freud’s own views on the relationship between man and nature, and the subsequent need, “…to defend us against nature.”[27]  In this standpoint, we can draw parallels between the use of illusion and fantasy – or religious narratives – as a means to cope with the unknowable, volatile, and devastating events affecting human life.  Beverley Clack aptly suggests, “[r]eligion offers solace in the face of chaos.  It is this that connects religion most clearly with the concerns that drive the construction of phantasy: the attempt to limit pain and to master reality.”[28]  Accordingly, religion becomes a mechanism, propelled through the use of illusion and fantasy, which serves to regulate feelings of mortality, helplessness, and uncertainty.  The nature of the human species as self-aware inevitably leads to these postulations and the necessitation to mitigate the discontent that arises from these inherently emotional aspects of being human.  In this manner, Freud’s belief that religion was illusion may be accurate; however, his view of religion as neurosis should be more accurately articulated as religion as a source of inspiration for the human species.

There is no denying Freud’s influence on our understanding of the human mind – in particular, his enormous influence on engaging future scholars in debate concerning the curiosities of the psyche and the role of human cognition in the creation of cultural systems.  There is also little doubt that Freud rejected religion as a means in which to understand the world, although his motivations for doing so remain unclear.  Further inquiry into Freud’s life would assuredly lead to many assumptions; however, this remains outside the scope of this paper.  It also would fail to prove useful toward reconciling the argument herein.  Certainly, he was a highly polemical figure who sparked discussion and much criticism; however, these criticisms have not been fully warranted.  It behooves his critics to revisit his work for not its factual, empirical, or historical value – despite Freud attempting to conform to these standards – but rather for its interpretative value.  This is where we find the true essence of the Freudian theory of religion.  A theory which speaks to the depths of the human psyche and the fantasies employed to navigate through an often turbulent life.  Through reassessing Freud’s critique, one might rightly suggest that he was indeed a friend of religion, albeit a hesitant one.

Adapted from an essay submitted March 2012 to the the Department of Religion, Carleton University

ILLUSION IN THE FREUDIAN THEORY OF RELIGION

Sigmund Freud, 1921

Sigmund Freud’s theory of religion, as outlined in his seminal works, Totem and Taboo, Moses and Monotheism,and The Future of an Illusion, undoubtedly contributed to numerous classical and contemporary scholars pointedly labelling him as an enemy of religion.  Despite identifying with a Jewish heritage, many have suggested that Freud was – for all intents – an atheist who viewed religion as merely another manifestation of his psychoanalytic concept of wish fulfillment.  Freud’s reductionist treatment of religion established his adherence to scientific principles, which he viewed as the only means in which to understand the world.  In fact, religion was just another stepping stone for humanity on its way to the scientific age, one in which illusions and fantasy played no part in reality or understanding the human condition. Ironically, in his attempt at developing a theory of religion, he cast aside doctrines of scientific principles and cast a blanket of suspicion over the validity of his claims.   His theory is intriguing, innovative and bold – especially given the time period in which he first advanced his ideas.  Yet, despite his tenacious pursuit of explaining the origination and purpose of religion in scientific and historical terms, he failed to develop a theory that could be described as such.

He staunchly advocated methods of rational inquiry and empirical methodology, and through case studies and observational techniques he developed theories to explain the human psyche and a greater understanding of cultural phenomenon.  Despite these ambitions, many of his theories have gone largely unproven; ironically because they lack universal application as a result of limiting research methods.  His theory of religion is based on several of his psychoanalytic concepts, and as such suggests inherent weaknesses in his approach; however, Freud may have been his own worst enemy due to his refusal to waver from the scientific paradigm in an attempt to explain external reality.  In fact, his critique of religion may actually provide a more positive explanation than the one he overtly claimed.  Far from the parallel of religion as neurosis, his theory suggests that religion works as a mechanism through using illusion and fantasy as a means to resolve reality and the uncertainty of the human condition.  In this view, Freud’s religion becomes a positive mechanism for the development of the human psyche, similar to other concepts such as creativity and imagination.  Thus, Freud – or at least his theory – can be understood as an advocate for religion rather than a dissident.

Freud’s work in religion began in 1907 with a short essay entitled, Obsessive Actions and Religious Practices.  This paper heralded the beginning of a tumultuous relationship between Freud’s psychoanalysis and religion.  In it he drew parallels between the expression of belief in the religious and acts of neurotic psychiatric patients, which he called “ritualistic”.  Both, he suggested, had a shared origin in repressed instincts and supressed childhood experiences.[1]  Specifically, Freud viewed religion as an illusion based on early childhood fantasies, which had been supressed.  Re-emerging in adulthood, these suppressed instincts would ultimately influence the way in which the adult viewed the world,[2] such that reality would become distorted.  Religion was thus realized as a coping mechanism for unrealized childhood wish fulfillment, which ultimately had harmful consequences for the adult human.

Totem and Taboo (1913) by Sigmund Freud

In Totem and Taboo, Freud introduced the concept of totem prohibitions and their relation to modern day religiosity.  In his introductory chapter, he defined totems and their role within the social organization of a tribe, as the first tribal ancestor – animal, plant or force in nature – which held a unique relationship with the tribe.  This relationship was such that a taboo against killing the animal emerged – except for the ritualized annual act of killing and devouring the totem.[3]  This totem meal was instituted in an effort to obtain the power and strength of the totem animal.  Additionally, a strong familial connection to the totem extended throughout the entire clan such that every member of the tribe was deemed blood related.  This led to the practice of exogamy which created a second taboo in the totem social system, namely the incest taboo.[4]  Freud believed that these original taboos signalled the start of morality and ultimately of a social structure[5], which later propagated into religion and other cultural phenomenon.

Freud created a narrative using these totem taboos that extended his thesis in Obsessive Actions and Religious Practices and integrated previously developed theories of psychosexual development, specifically the Oedipus complex.  Drawing heavily from Darwin’s work on primal hordes, Freud described the later manifestation of these primal hordes into totems and subsequently modern day religious traditions.  He postulated that a lone dominant male maintained his status and claim to all females in the tribe through driving out young males to find mates in different totems.  The outcast males then came together and conspired to kill their father.  Subsequently, the sons consumed the father in an effort to assume his power.  Despite their efforts to end the patriarchal horde, the sons became consumed with guilt.  A brother horde was created and soon the practice of exogamy was reinstated, in effect supressing the motivation for the original sinful act.[6] With guilt subsiding and longing for a father-ideal, of which none of them could obtain, the brothers conceived of a symbolic father-figure in the totem animal[7] and commemorated the killing of the father through the annual totem meal.  This ritual was created to relieve the brothers’ guilt through honouring the father and attempting to harness his power.[8] Freud theorized the ceremony and associated symbolic father-image were the precursors to the creation of gods and modern religion.

Additionally, he surmised that the ceremonial act of the totem meal was similar to the obsessive thinking and ritualistic act of the neurotic patient.  Fearing the negative consequences of acting against prohibitions and taboos, these rituals provided both patient and prehistoric man a way in which to supress forbidden impulses and unconscious desires[9] – specifically, the latent desire to kill the father and wed the mother (Oedipus complex).[10] Moreover, the rituals served as a way to reconcile the guilt stemming from these unconscious wishes.  Freud believed that this original sin of the brother horde and the subsequent guilt brought about the totemic religious system which would later become a base for all future religions.[11]  In this way, the totem feast became, “…the repetition and commemoration of this memorable, criminal act with which so many things began, social organization, moral restrictions and religion.”[12]

Freud extended this theory further by suggesting that religious gods were always modelled after an idealized father-figure which was greatly influenced by the individual’s relationship with their own father.[13] The paradoxical nature of this relationship was exemplified by the simultaneous disdain and love for the all-powerful father-figure.  Here, the unconscious wishes of the child, the repressed guilt in the neurotic adult due to those childhood wishes, and the religious person converge in the Oedipus complex, and manifest in various ways in which humans view the world.

In The Future of an Illusion, Freud bridged his postulations on religion as illusion with his work in Totem and Taboo.  In it, he discussed the nature of ambivalence toward the father figure through suggesting that children experienced jealousy and fear toward the father for his all-powerful role, but also looked to the father for protection and care.  As the child grew and experienced the harsh reality of life, the realization that he was destined to be helpless forever emerged.  In order to harness the protective feelings experienced from their own father as a child, the adult transferred the father-image into gods that were both feared and revered.[14]

Freud suggested that modern day monotheistic patriarchal religion developed from this idea of helplessness, particularly in reaction to the harsh and unknowable power of nature.  Mirroring the father-child relationship, the relationship between man and nature was such that man was ultimately at the mercy of natural forces, thus creating fear, helplessness, and awe.  In order to adequately resolve these feelings and to identify with nature, man projected his image into illusory beings with humanlike traits in an effort to establish a relationship with these unknown forces.[15]  Realizing that this helplessness would not cease during the course of the adult’s lifetime, the father-figure beings were created as more powerful than any individual to whom the adult could conceive – namely, the father.[16]

It is important to discuss what Freud meant by illusion.  He believed that illusion stemmed from wishes and fantasies and were similar to psychiatric delusions.  The differences between the two are that delusion suggested a struggle with reality while illusion wasn’t necessarily opposing reality.[17]  Essentially, illusion was motivated by repressed fantasies and the content of the illusory narrative was possible, although not always probable.  For Freud, the narratives of religions were certainly possible, but mostly improbable.  As such, he considered them neurotic fantasies.  Freud translated this hypothesis into the notion of religion as illusion, and ultimately called religion, “…the universal obsessional neurosis of humanity,” [18] rooted in the infantile Oedipal stage.  For him, religion was keeping humanity stuck in a childlike wonderment that abandoned reality for the safety and security of fantasies.  The only proper course of action was the turning away from religious proclivities holding humanity in a middle stage of development and adopting the scientific view of external reality, which more adequately explained the world than religious doctrine.[19]

Finally, further development of his critique of religion was put forth in Moses and Monotheism, in which he applied his theory to the development of firstly Judaism, and then Christianity.  Using the story of Moses from the Hebrew Bible, Freud reimagined the narrative through claiming that Moses was born to Egyptian nobility.  He further claimed that an early form of Judaism was founded on an ancient Egyptian Aton religion, prominent under Pharaoh Amenhotep IV and was known as the only form of monotheism in Ancient Egypt.[20]  Freud speculated that this was the precursor to the rise of the first of the great monotheistic religions, Judaism.  He drew comparisons to the Mosaic religion and the Aton religion highlighting such points as a strict adherence to monotheism, which was very uncommon in the time period.  He also suggested that Moses gave the Jewish people more than just a new religion, but also the law of circumcision which was believed to be widely practiced in ancient Egypt. [21]  Additionally, Freud suggested that the Jewish people revolted against Moses for imposing this new religion on them and subsequently killed him.  He pointed to narratives in the Bible which described these uprisings.[22] In what he described as a latent period in the history of the Jewish religion, Freud suggested that after revolting and killing Moses, that the people turned away from the new religion and returned to their polytheistic ways with a particular emphasis on the worship of the volcano-god Jahve.  A long period of denial followed in which both the killing and the religion given by Moses were supressed.  It was only through oral traditions, which were kept alive by a few loyal followers, that the story of Moses came to permeate the cultural consciousness of the Jews and counter the non-objective historical accounts that were given forth. [23]  Freud said, “[i]t was this tradition of a great past that continued to work in the background, until it slowly gained more and more power over the mind of the people and at last succeeded in transforming the God Jahve into the Mosaic God and in waking to a new life the religion which Moses had instituted centuries before and which had later been forsaken.”[24]   This reworked Mosaic mythology provided Freud with the opportunity to tie in his theory of religion introduced in his previous works – particularly his notions of guilt and fantasy as outlined in the Oedipal concept.

Here Freud demonstrated the restoration of the father as he previously discussed in Totem and Taboo through the growing feelings of guilt among the Jewish people and the resurfacing of suppressed memories of the original sin of killing the father as proclaimed by a Jewish rabble-rouser, Paul of Tarsus.  Redemption and salvation were brought to the Jewish people and indeed all of civilization through the sacrifice of the son of god, Jesus.[25]  It was the leader of the brother horde, Freud suggested, that would be most befitting as a potential sacrifice.  He further illustrated connections to his theory by pointing to the Holy Communion ritual, one in which the flesh and blood of Christ is symbolically ingested, as similar to that of the totem feast.[26]  This account showed how Christianity rose from Judaism, but more specifically how the father religion was replaced by the religion of the son through the transference of repressed guilt.  It is here that Freud attempted to connect totemism to monotheism.  Obviously this re-envisioned account created much public criticism of Freud, as he had essentially claimed that the Judaic religion was not founded on the word of God, but rather the edicts of the Egyptians.

In support of this reimagined historical account of the rise of Judaism and then Christianity, Freud offered up the concept of an archaic heritage which he suggested may involve inherited memory traces that could help to explain why individually different people respond in remarkably similar ways to the same experiences.[27]  Essentially, this concept put forth the notion that repressed memories were passed on from generation to generation and remained dormant during the latency periods of mankind.  This concept allowed Freud to connect how the memory of Moses’ murder survived for generations and the subsequent guilt that consumed the Jewish people.

This installment of #TBT showcases two of my biggest inspirations for my childhood writings – my brothers.  Whether it was a character named after one of them, or a story featuring an epic sibling adventure (like this one you’re about to read), my brothers somehow imprinted themselves into the stories in my imagination.  Of course, this shouldn’t be a surprise because siblings are the first friends most of us make.  They are also likely to be our closest allies and our biggest rivals.  As the eldest, I’m sure I also felt a sense of duty to protect my younger brothers.  I think this story, if read between the lines, speaks quite eloquently to sibling bonds (oh, and my secret desire to be the ‘Pro’). This one’s for my ‘baby’ brothers…

The Thing That Ate My Brothers (1988)

One day, long ago, Peter, Ben and myself were walking through the forest next to our house. Suddenly, a big, black, hairy Thing jumped out of the bushes. With one great big gulp the Thing ate both of my brothers. The Thing charged after me, but I was too fast for it.  I ran as fast as my feet would carry me. I jumped over broken pieces of wood and old car parts. It was more like a dump than a forest.  I finally made it out into the open.  There were cars buzzing up and down the street. I figured I was north of my house. I had ran all the way to the other side of the forest.  Now it was hopeless! The only thing to do was see the Wise One.  The Wise One was an old hermit who lived at the Great Swamp.  I started my long journey.  I felt like turning back, but I was afraid the Thing would try and eat me too.  I thought about my brothers. Maybe there was still hope! Maybe I could rescue my brothers! I quickened my pace.  I reached the Wise One’s house just before sundown.  I knocked on the door three times before I entered.  The old hermit greeted me with a smile.

“Ah! Melissa. Welcome,” the hermit said.

“Hello, Wise One.  I have come to seek help.” I explained the whole horrible story to him. 

“Hmmmm. Very interesting. You say this Thing is big, black and hairy? Well that can only mean one thing!”

“What?!” I yelled horrified. 

“One of my dogs has gotten into my spider-growth potion,” the Wise One said.

“Well, what can I do to get my brothers back?” I asked hopefully.

“Take this needle and stick it in his arm.”

“Well that sounds easy enough. Bye and thanks!” I said.

“Wait!  There is one more important thing,” but it was too late.  I was off to rescue my brothers. 

I walked through bushes and thorn patches. I came upon a dark cave. I could hear the Thing snoring. This was my big chance! I tiptoed in quietly.

“Wait, wait!” a voice yelled.

I turned around. It was the hermit! The Thing awoke. It jumped up and chased after me. I ran into a hole. The hermit followed me. 

“Why did you do that?” I yelled.

“You must stick the needle in a certain spot. Otherwise you may end up killing your brothers. Stick the needle as close as possible to the shoulder,” said the Wise One. 

I thanked the Wise One and dodged past him and out into the open. The Thing glared at me with his big red eyes. Without even thinking I jumped on his arm and stabbed the Thing right under his left shoulder.  It let out one last terrifying roar! It then fell on the floor and changed into a black dog, Peter and Ben. The dog sat on its haunches.

When we arrived home Mom was hysterical. 

“Where have you been?” she asked sternly.

“Oh… we just had an amazing adventure where for once I was the Pro!” 

We all laughed, except for Mom who just stood there wondering. She would never know of the terror and fright our adventure had caused. 

M. xo

P.S. For those of you who know me personally, you’ll know how completely unbelievable this story is because there’s no way I would have ever “figured I was north of my house” given how ‘navigationally-challenged’ I am. 😉

P.P.S. The ‘Pro’ was a family nickname given to the elder of my youngest brothers, Pete.

P.P.P.S. It’s interesting how impressionable the young mind is.  I see influences of some of my favourite books and movies in this story.  Stand by Me was one of the first movies I ever saw in a theatre and the idea of scary things lurking in the forest has always stuck with me.  I was a big horror fan and read a lot of Stephen King books as a kid – probably more than I should have for my age at the time.  I see a lot of influences from the horror genre in my childhood writing. Maybe all those sleepless nights I spent afraid of Gremlins under the bed were worth it after all. 🙂

‘Things’ that Go Bump in the Night

What is the Psychology of Religion?  Let’s begin by looking at definitions of both psychology and religion. Examining their historical and contemporary contexts can allow us to better understand how psychology and religion have developed to form a symbiotic relationship (even though some may contest otherwise, but that’s another post for another day).

Psychology

Humans have been pondering questions of a psychological nature for millenia. Early writings of Buddha, Confucius, Socrates and in Hebrew Scriptures provide glimpses into the historical beginnings of psychological queries. The origins of the word psychology have roots in the Grecian words psyche, loosely translated as, ‘soul‘ or ‘spirit‘, and logos, translated as, ‘meaning’ or ‘account‘. Thus, in its earliest form, psychological musings were concerned with ‘accounting for the human spirit‘.

Psychology as a science did not emerge until the late 1800’s, when the first experiment addressing mental processes was conducted by Wilhelm Wundt. The science of psychology began to flourish and branch into many different paths and theories. Today, the broad definition of psychology as, the science of behavior and mental processes, is widely accepted. This definition serves merely as a generalization of the discipline of psychology as a whole and does not highlight the complex nature of human behavior and cognition.

Religion

Developing a concrete and universal definition of religion is, in my opinion, an impossible task.  Simply Google ‘define religion’ and you’re guaranteed to get dozens of differing definitions.  Indeed, some scholars spend their entire careers seeking out meaningful definitions that can by relevantly applied to all that encompasses ‘religion’.

For the purpose of this post, I contemplated various definitions of religion presented by scholars over the centuries. I cannot wholly accept definitions, such as social psychologist’s Erich Fromm’s, “[a]ny system of thought and action shared by a group which gives the individual a frame of orientation and an object of devotion.” Religion is both personal and social. It is quite conceivable for a single person to hold religious beliefs that may not be connected to a group, therefore, the first part of the preceding definition does not adequately explain religion.

Carl Jung’s definition is, perhaps, more closely aligned to my understanding of the term religion:

“Religion is a peculiar attitude of the human mind […] that is a careful consideration and observation of certain dynamic factors […] of whatever name man has given to such factors as he has found in his world, powerful, dangerous, or helpful enough to be taken into careful consideration or grand, beautiful and meaningful enough to be devoutly adored and loved”.

Clearly, religion is hard to define; however in order to find merit in any scientific study of religion, and in particular facets of religious behaviour and thought, there must be some universal mechanism for measuring the multidimensional concept of religion.

Psychology+ Religion

Religion can be broadly examined through the various dimensions of religion proposed by sociologists, Charles Glock and Rodney Stark. They proposed five dimensions of religious commitment with which to study the multidimensional nature of religion. These included: the ideological dimension, the ritualistic dimension, the experiential dimension, the intellectual dimension, and the consequential dimension (Paloutzian, 1996).

These dimensions of religious commitment enable researchers with powerful tools to measure the behaviors and mental processes of people from various religious traditions. Through applying the various theories of psychology to the most rudimentary understanding of religiosity, a wealth of knowledge begins to emerge concerning religious behaviors and mental processes that span all faiths and doctrines. Despite the seemingly different beliefs found in the world’s religions, researchers can make generalized statements about the behaviors and cognitive processes that bind them all together.

As with any theoretical work, new ideas will change the shape of what is known today and will invariably lead to new paths of theory. This is especially poignant in research that encompasses any religious domain, due to the very complex nature of religion itself. Undeniably, the process of applying variables and measures to the religious domain with respect to behaviors and cognition can only serve to further enhance future knowledge of how and why religion plays a central role in humankind.

M. xo

Further Reading

Myers, D.G. (2004). Psychology: Myers in Modules (7th Ed). New York: Worth.

Paloutzian, R.F. (1996). Invitation to the Psychology of Religion (2nd Ed). Massachusetts: Allyn & Bacon.

Last week, I posted on this blog my first Throwback Thursday (#TBT), but instead of posting old photos of myself, I’ve decided to share some writing from my childhood.  This next piece I wrote when I was ten years old.  It was around the time that I started getting interested in counter-cultures – even though I’m quite sure I didn’t even know what that meant at the time.

The main characters are a group of bad boys (and one Superpunk), and a pretty girl who saves the day – just because she can.  Yeah, apparently I was already thinking about reverse gender roles too.

Original draft (1986)

Jack Grey’s Adventures with Dog (1986)

One dark eerie night, Jack Grey, Superpunk, was walking through the dark alley on Johnson Ave. 

“Hey, Buzz, what do you think you’re doing,” said Jack.

“I’m looking for grub,” replied Buzz.

“This is my territory, Buzzhead,” Jack said.

“So what?” said Buzz. “Hey Jack, look what I found.”

“What did you find, Buzzo?”

“Chocolate cake.”

“Leave it,” said Jack, “and come on.”

Jack and Buzz walked back to their fort in an old abandoned zoo on Adam St.

“Hi, George,” said Buzz.

“Whats happening my man?” George said.

Suddenly, George collapsed to the ground.  He had been shot.

“He was always faithful to us,” whined Buzz.

“Never mind him.  We got trouble.  Look who’s coming our way,” said Jack.

It was the Dog, alias Kevin George.  Jack had once said he only was afraid of the Dog.  Jack’s long black hair was flying through the air as he ran.  Jack was only 16 years old.  The Dog was 18 and strong. 

“I’ll cut that giant eagle tattoo off of you, punk,” yelled Dog. 

Buzz and Jack ran until they reached Donna Master’s house.  Donna was Jack’s girlfriend.  Donna didn’t know that Jack stole and lied.  Donna had long blonde hair, blue eyes, and rosy cheeks.  She was sweet, gentle and wasn’t a dropout like Jack and Buzz.  She also despised Dog. 

“Ding, Dong,” went the doorbell.

“Why Jack, what brings you here?”

“I’m here because Dog has a gun and shot George,” Jack said with shivers down his spine.

“Well hurry and get inside,” panicked Donna. 

“Ding, Dong,” went the doorbell again. 

“Open up.  It’s Dog.”

“No, I will not open up.  You know I hate you.  Now go away,” said Donna angrily.

“Ok!  But I’ll be back,” said Dog angrily.

“Well he shouldn’t bother you anymore,” said Donna. 

And he didn’t for a long time afterward.  

M. xo

Each week, at least one viral video pops up on my social news feeds showcasing a random act of kindness (RAK).  These videos tend to pull at the heartstrings and even inspire people to go out and perform their own act of kindness (which is often then uploaded for the world to see).

So, what’s got my feathers in a ruffle about the RAK movement?  It’s not that the acts themselves bother me, it’s that we even need a movement of this sort that I find curious.  Since when was kindness just a courtesy extended to fellow human beings?  Isn’t kindness a way of being, rather than just a single momentary act?  Why do we need to be reminded to be kind?

That’s not all that bothers me about this movement.  I’m also troubled by the number of RAK videos published in an attempt to garner views/likes/self-promotion.  Why does someone have to prove that they were kind?  Shouldn’t kindness be its own reward?  Often, these acts of kindness caught on video are extended to the most marginalized peoples in our communities.  That’s great!  But, why do we have to further marginalize them by using them to publicly self-gratify?

Random acts of kindness hasn’t just become a movement; it’s also become a marketing tool.  For example, just last year in 2013, Canadian airline, WestJet, released a Christmas video (complete with an appropriately branded blue-suited Santa) showing employees of the company performing a monumental random act of kindness for some of their passengers.  To date, the video has over 35 44 million views.  How’s that for some effective advertising?

Final Thought: BE KIND – each and every day.  Live and breathe kindness, so it becomes a part of your soul.  While a single random act of kindness can certainly benefit a person or a moment, BEING KIND extends beyond a single person, community, or moment.  It lasts a lifetime – your lifetime.  And a life lived in kindness is a life rewarded with kindness.

M. xo

*Post updated March 2016*

WestJet Christmas Miracle video

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It’s Throwback Thursday (#TBT) and I wanted to try something a little different! Instead of posting an old photo of myself, I thought I’d share some writing from my youth.  I admit, I’m a bit of a pack-rat.  Given this confession, it shouldn’t surprise anyone to find out that I have kept most of my writing over the years – even the horrible teen-angst poetry.  I’ve always believed that writing (and indeed any art form) is a journey.  So, I’m going to take this opportunity to share some of that journey with you here.  Are you ready to go w-a-a-a-a-y back? This first one is a short story I composed in grade school at the age of nine.

Original draft (1986), Age: 9 years

The Pea and the Swiss Cheese

One day a pea was sitting on the dining room floor. The pea’s name was Peter. He was bored. He had had a little excitement earlier in the day, when the human baby had tried to eat him. The baby had eaten Peter’s parents, and now he was an orphan.

Peter was ten days old. The longest any pea had lived was two weeks. Peter was going to make a vegetable record! Peter started bouncing merrily across the dining room floor.

He came across a piece of swiss cheese. The swiss cheese had been blinded from the bite of the human baby.

“Hi, my name is Peter. What’s yours?”

“My name is Swissella,” the swiss cheese replied.

At that moment, the dreaded vaccuum cleaner came charging into the dining room and sucked up the two new friends.

Peter and Swissella were never seen, or eaten, again.

M. xo