Posted by: aediculaantinoi | August 2, 2012

The Human Totem…?!?

The present post picks up on something that I wrote about in relation to Lupa’s presentation at PantheaCon in February, and was prompted by a post by Dver a few weeks ago as well. And, now I find that it might also have relevance, in the way I’m going to discuss it, to a recent announcement by Cherry Hill Seminary on their new director of ministry.

Now, you may be looking at these diverse matters in those other posts and going, “Okay…what do these things have to do with one another?” Let me try and explain.

If it’s good enough for NASA, it’s good enough for me!

Back at PantheaCon, we discussed the possibility of human totem animals, and it was suggested by Lupa that because human experience is so varied, what really seems to amount to human totem animals is, in fact, what we consider the gods. While I found that idea fairly all right at the time, on further reflection, I’m not quite sure that’s it. Yes, the fact that pretty much all of our deities are fairly anthropomorphic in many respects obviously represents our human and humanizing understandings of the gods, flawed and incomplete though they may be, are an important dimension of our ability to apprehend the gods and to interact with them. But, I don’t think that Zeus, for example, represents a particular dimension of the human experience, per se. (Archetypalists would disagree, of course, but I’m not talking about them at the moment!)

So, the possibility that there is a “human totem animal” (because we are animals, after all, like any other) that is not something that is “the gods” as we experience them still remains. But, what would it be? Some sort of primate (as suggested in the earlier link in this discussion about the PantheaCon session)? Perhaps, but I suspect it might be something that has been mis-labeled and misunderstood, but experienced widely, by a lot of people in a lot of different religions.

People who confuse monism with mysticism–both within modern paganism and in other religions–often talk about “the Ultimate” or “all-that-is” and so forth, as a kind of ultimate and primordial being who is, in essence (so they say) synonymous with what monotheistic religions call “God.” Of course, from a polytheist perspective, that’s not remotely tenable, since the Hebrew God/Iao and Allah both are deities who, though perhaps the heads of their own respective pantheons, certainly aren’t “the all” in the way their latter-day followers seem to think they are. Many liberal and mystically-inclined Christians also like to talk about “Christ-consciousness,” which is a species of this same sort of monistic thinking, with the caveat that “the all” is here equivalent to their Jesus, which again is not very tenable from a polytheist perspective. And even within certain ancient forms of polytheism, including Graeco-Egyptian magic and certain species of gnosticism, we have Abrasax/Abraxas, who is a super-syncretistic deity, and often gets compared to or equated with Iao, but who is a kind of “god-behind-the-gods,” and yet it also not exactly “all that is” either; at most, I’d think Abraxas is a sort of mediator between the knowable divine realms and beings and the unknowable and impersonal energies and motivations that are the real and ultimate powers of the universe that truly are responsible for why there is “something instead of nothing,” to put it in physics terms. Though there are dimensions of hyper-reality, and the super-natural, the unknowable, the mysterious, and the ineffable involved in every deity in a polytheistic pantheon–including the most human of those gods, like Antinous–the same is also true of nearly every human being on the planet, and every experience there is to be had on earth.

And yet, there are people in modern paganism, in the various monotheist religions, in Buddhism and Hinduism and Shinto and Taoism, in new age groups, in unspecified and ill-defined “spirituality,” and even in atheism who report experiences of feeling that they have been in contact with “all-that-is.” While not dismissing their experiences, I am not that interested in accepting the reality or the accuracy of the theologies they have placed over their experiences. (My approach is the same with the two major monotheistic religions, ultimately: I don’t doubt the reality of their gods, I simply doubt the accuracy of their theologies in relation to their gods.) I don’t think being an “Atman of Brahman” or being in touch with one’s “Buddha nature” or the various other ways that different religions label these experiences is quite what is happening when these experiences occur. (And, I really don’t think that because all of these experiences “seem the same” to those who have them and who insist they’re the “ultimate” in religious experiences, that therefore the “core” of these religions is all the same, necessarily…)

Instead, here’s my theory.

There is a human totem animal, who–like all totem animals–is not only the ancestral spirit of all humanity, but also the sum total of human experience, perception, thought, and emotion that has ever existed in the world. At present, there are around seven billion creatures contributing to that overall aggregate…and, thinking back to all of the ancestors that have ever lived, there’s probably tens of billions more (if not somewhere in the trillions) who have done likewise. That’s a lot! But, because we’re all human, we all are therefore related to that primal ancestor and human totem, and thus we have potential access to its store of wisdom and experience regardless of our own religious outlook or affiliation or practice–it’s there to be accessed, and our deepest spiritual instincts (which I do think most of us share–not everyone, but most people who are religious, anyway) will most naturally lead us in that direction. Because of this, what happens to people in various religions–particularly those who suggest there is an “Ultimate” and a deity with that nature, but often with particular characteristics (like the major monotheistic faiths do simply by virtue of the fact that they extrapolate this universalism and ultimacy from a very contextually and culturally-based set of scriptures and theologies that cannot, by definition nor nature, refer to such a being), that when their own spiritual practices lead them to an experience that is beyond that individual deity from the cultures concerned, and that individual religion’s theological constructions into something “beyond” it, which is this human totem animal, they no longer feel able to describe what they’re experiencing, because it’s essentially sensory and mental overload. Their religion has not prepared them to interact with a spiritual being of that sort, and they have no way of understanding or contextualizing it within their own religion’s theology, and because of the mix of languages and such involved in tens of thousands of years of human evolution and existence, their experiences are therefore “beyond words to describe” and so forth because they cannot sort the words coming from that being, etc. They thus make the jump (which would seem logical based on their own theologies) that they’ve contacted “the Ultimate” and “all-that-is,” and indeed it seems like it might be just that because of the immensity of the wisdom and perceptions of such a being; but, it really isn’t anything remotely like what “all-that-is” really is…which is totally beyond human ability to perceive.

I note something else which is consequent to most of these experiences of “all-that-is”: namely, nothing. No one ever comes away from such experiences with great insights on the meaning of life or how to fix all the world’s problems, because they’re not there to be found–as the sum of human experiences, the human totem has a great deal to say and to teach, but those things aren’t part of the human experience yet, so they certainly don’t come from the human totem! The people who have these experiences instead return to some of the core values of their tradition, which are often the very ones shared by many traditions (which have, therefore, very little to do with their particular religion), and that include things like compassion, cooperation, and care for the community. The human totem, if nothing else, would be overflowing with that, because it likewise knows what destructive impulses have done to humanity–its myriad children–and would not really like that type of behavior to proliferate.

There’s probably a great deal more to say on this subject, but I suspect that this is an idea that will totally not appeal to most people who have had an experience of “the Ultimate” and “all-that-is,” because it will suggest that their experience–valid though I am very willing to say it is–is not-quite-as-Ultimate-as-they-had-hoped, and is hopelessly bounded in the humanity that they often wish to suggest it isn’t in favor of divinity, or a more broadly-based concern for all of life or universal essence, etc.

But meanwhile, I would be interested in hearing the thoughts of polytheists on this matter, as I always am! ;)


Responses

  1. Well, it also doesn’t appeal because it involves a fair bit of argument from unproveable assumptions (and saying “so does monism” doesn’t fix it)…and also seems, to me, to lead very easily for the monotheists to “BTW, the First Human was Adam, whose imprint is on all human existence but was upgraded to a more compassionate/divine level through Jesus.” (And if you’re Catholic, you also get Eve/Mary for the ladies.)

    • But then again, all theology–not just monism and this form of polytheism–proceeds from unprovable assumptions. So, one picks ones unprovable assumptions and lives with the consequences, I think, with the hope that whichever set of unprovable assumptions one chooses are the ones that work best practically for the person involved.

      • Quite so. In which case, why do spiritual experiences not one’s own need interpreting, unless you are trying to emulate them?

      • See my earlier lengthy comment to you in this thread…!

      • @ Julie

        I personally rely on other peoples’ insights into my own experiences to keep me honest about what’s “it’s all in my head…” vs. “…except when it’s not”.

        As far as polytheist theology goes I think that a great many solitary practitioners could benefit from group association, if not practice, merely for the sake of “UPG accountability”.

        Of course I would never impose my opinions upon someone’s experiences (unless they were mentally ill in which case that would be more intervention and less theology).

        Cheers,

        Dave

      • Hear, hear! :)

  2. Honestly?

    I don’t care whether or not a person has a religious experience that they interpret in a monist or dualist way. I respect that they had the experience and I accept that their interpretation of it has truth value to them. Those interpretations simply don’t possess any truth value for me, regardless of their alleged ability to accurately describe ultimate reality.

    My perspective on my own spiritual experiences is that they suggest a pluralist universe populated by a vast number of divine powers that are each “unto themselves”. Whether or not they are all ultimately one divine being seems silly to be worried about one way or the other when the day-to-day reality is that they are best treated as unique and separate.

    I mean we don’t assume that because every individual human is a member of the same species that really we’re all the same because we’re all humans. That would make telling your lover apart from your grandmother awkward to say the least and so with gods and spirits who may not like being mistaken for archetypes or divinities from across the street.

    Dave

    • I agree with almost all of what you’ve said.

      Though, the lack of other people’s experiences in truth-value for me doesn’t necessitate that I have to ignore their experiences, nor should that lack of relevance prevent me from attempting to figure out–based on my own truths–what ways their truths might also be true (or, failing that, at least sensible, in my own theological lights) for me when understood in a particular manner.

      But, that’s a personal choice, and one that I don’t expect others to necessarily need to or want to make. It does have the benefit, at least for me, of not dismissing other people as deluded or useless or solipsistic in their own truths, and instead instilling a sense of compassion in me toward them, so that even if I don’t agree on their theological truths, I can say “Well, this is what I think was probably happening there, and thus I can appreciate how that experience is meaningful and productive for them,” rather than going “I don’t agree with that monist crap, and think they’re ridiculous and irrelevant.” Whenever I have to do the latter–and I try not to whenever possible!–I find it’s very difficult for me to retain any warm feelings toward a person at all, or any interest in them; and while for the majority of humanity, who I can meet and then pass on from without any difficulty, might be adequately dealt with for practical purposes in such a dismissal, people I might have to interact with on a more frequent basis require a cognitive strategy to negotiate usefully and have harmonious interactions, I think. As I said, though, this may be a “me” thing, and if so, that’s all right. ;)

      • Ah – so ultimately, this theory is a workaround for a personal tolerance glitch? Fair enough. Sometimes I don’t catch where your line is between “this is an idea I have for me” and “this is a theory I would like tested for Truth and adopted by others.” (And when I say “I don’t catch it” I am talking about me, not necessarily about whether you’re communicating it effectively to the rest of the world. And that will be all of my communication paranoia for this evening. Maybe I should shut up until the meds withdrawal is over, huh?)

      • Not at all! This is quite useful for me, actually…

        So, this is multiple things, then:

        1) Yes, it is a mental workaround for me, in an effort to be compassionate towards others and to try and salvage the validity and phenomenology of their experience without necessarily having to agree with its interpretation.

        2) It is also something that I shared here because I thought my own process might be helpful for, or interesting to, others–indeed, almost all the theology I do in this blog (and elsewhere!) is in that category. (If it weren’t for my own theologizing about Antinous, there really wouldn’t be any modern Antinoan theology; there is absolutely no theology-as-such in what scholarship exists on Antinous…!) I know, in the present case, that there are a lot of polytheists who are non-monists, or anti-monists, and most of them adopt the “they’re wrong and too new-agey” interpretation, which may be all right for them, but I always like to present options; there should always be options where theological matters are concerned, and increasing those options is part of what I’d like to do in the larger scheme of things where polytheism is concerned.

        3) It’s also an attempt at what I’d have to call a “theology of other people/other religions,” which almost every major religion out there has, even if it is not formally recognized as such. To take a few examples: in traditional, orthodox, mainstream Christianity, there is only one (trinitarian) deity, and all others are either false and have no existence at all (i.e. empty idols) or are demons/devils misleading people; in Islam, there is no god but Allah, and any other deities are non-existent or are djinn misleading people. In the documents of Vatican II on other religions, a more liberal view is taken: it is assumed that for certain old and well-established religions (e.g. Buddhism, Hinduism, and even Islam) that the Holy Spirit is working in diverse forms for the betterment of people in other religions; it does kind of assume they’re dumb for not recognizing the Holy Spirit in the process of doing so, but it at least gives them the benefit of the doubt in terms of being influenced by demons and such. In some Islamic interfaith contexts, I’ve heard Muslims construe paganism (but not polytheism–so, “nature worship” in the way many modern pagans frame their faith, whether or not deities are part of that) as “worshipping Allah through his works,” which still kind of assumes that such people are ignorant and need to be enlightened, but they’re not all bad. In Buddhism, Hinduism, and other theologies which tend toward monism, a polytheist is okay, it’s just they’re (again!) kind of ignorant and too attached to particular forms rather than to transcendence, formlessness, and the ultimate unity of all things.

        As a polytheist, it’s very easy for me to look at Christianity and Islam and say, “Yeah, there’s gods there, and they’re real,” but not to buy into all of the particularities of the theologies involved for them, particularly their exclusivism, their insistent monotheism, and their implied universalism. So, I have no problem acknowledging the existence of Jesus, Allah, and Iao Sabaoth, I just don’t have to buy that they’re all the same god, and the various other things which each monotheistic ideology suggests about them. I can salvage the sanctity of the deities involved, while still critiquing the particularities of the theologies of the worshippers concerned, especially where they’re excessive and actively harmful to others. I can also chalk up their non-acknowledgement of other deities (and, far too often, their own!) to lack of experience–which is the essential cornerstone to practical polytheism, in my view–rather than to active ignorance, as they seem to often do in regards to polytheists.

        When it comes to monists, I try and do something similar. I acknowledge the reality of their experiences, and that there is a legitimate divine being involved in the experience, but I differ from them on its import, its characteristics, and the “can’t-opt-out” nature of their theological argumentation from that viewpoint. For whatever reason, they seem to have a preference for formlessness, impersonality, and unsayability, and they thus define the only worthwhile deities to work with or have contact with in those terms, and their experiences are thus shaped by that preference. I can also assume, using the “human totem” model suggested here, that perhaps they simply haven’t met the other gods, and maybe are actively uninterested in doing so; it’s not ignorance on their part, so much as lack of experience, once again.

        Unfortunately, every “theology of other people/other religions” has to end up chalking up the fact that other people have made other religious choices to something, and it’s usually (in its most benign forms) ignorance; the “lack of experience” definition I’ve come up with in the above examples might be a sub-species of that, but I personally think it’s a bit more generous. There’s lots of experiences that I lack, and that I will go to the grave lacking, but I don’t think I’m lesser for most of them (e.g. just because I won’t get to walk on the moon, win a gold medal in swimming, appear on The Late Late Show in Ireland, or have sex with that attractive person on the bus from a few months ago doesn’t mean I’m a lesser person or that I haven’t accomplished some useful things in my life and have had a good life, etc.). Phrasing it in terms of experience rather than knowledge and ignorance then allows the all-important sanctity of individual choice to be paramount once again: some people simply won’t be interested in certain things because they’re not interested in them, whether for aesthetic reasons or any number of matters, and that’s okay. I can look at atheists in this regard and then say “They’re not interested in religion–no big deal.” I can look at monists and say “They’re not interested in personal deities–no big deal.” I can look at Christians or Muslims and say “They’re not interested in other deities–no big deal.” I think that’s far more compassionate, charitable, altruistic, and respectful of human dignity and the sanctity of choice than to assume that all these other types are ignorant, and thus would really be better off if only they knew what I knew and thought what I thought.

        So, that’s rather long-winded, but I think it’s fairly accurate as far as my own position goes. Does that make sense? (Again, even if you don’t agree with it, the main thing I’m worried about getting across is that what I’ve said is sensible, rather than agreeable.)

  3. Interesting.

    Now see I personally loathe when people interpret my experiences for me on their own terms rather than mine*. It’s one of a handful of things that can get a person “blacklisted” by me and I associate it with among the highest forms of spiritual hubris. Everything that is detestable to me has been associated with a denial of self-determination so I may be sensitive to it. ;)

    Thus for me a polytheist explanation of monist belief isn’t ignoring those deluded monist fools, it’s having the courtesy to not wipe my ass with what’s important to them**, and having enough humility to recognize that as far as “proof” goes I’m just as likely blowing it out my ass as them. And being the swell guy that I am I reserve my attitude for tools who don’t reciprocate.

    Now while I’ve personally never been threatened by, or even really curious about, non-pluralist interpretations of religious experiences I recognize that it merits attention and I don’t think it’s wrong for pluralists to address them, or even to address them from a pluralist-centric perspective per se. I just don’t feel personally “called out” to be the one to invest the energy or time.

    As much as I may disagree with monists (or dualists for that matter) I see no reason to “pluralize” monist thought in order to relate to people with monist beliefs. In fact I’m fairly resistant to it not only due to my issues with self-determination but as a pluralist! I mean if we’re really all as different I think we are I can’t expect every person I meet to be a pluralist now can I? ;)

    *Note that I depend upon inter-subjective verifiability in helping me understand my experiences. That whole “wanting to make sure I’m not crazy and having an external standard to be accountable to” thing.

    **You’ve demonstrated yourself to be way too much of a sweetheart for me to believe this is your motivation or intention in seeking to understand monism on your own terms, I’m speaking from my own perspective only.

    • I certainly see what you’re saying.

      There’s an interesting article I read recently on the uselessness of the “insider/outsider” debate where it comes to religion, and how it’s a “false problem” that really has no place in religious discussion. I’m sort of in a position of agreement with much of what the author says, though they’re looking at this from a religious studies viewpoint and not a practical or theological viewpoint–and while that difference is important to consider, I am a student of human religion as much as I’m a theologian, and often I’m both at the same time, as I am here.

      To use an example: a few years back (in ’07, actually), I read the Qu’ran for the first time (and for the only time–I’ve re-read and cited small bits of it since, but not re-read it in its entirety), and I was rather horrified by a lot of it, particularly in what it says about polytheists (and how they deserve to die) and “sodomites” on far too many occasions–nearly every other page in the case of polytheists for some sections of it. When I discussed my difficulties with this in my personal blog, I got some interesting responses from several people (including some who were doing Islamic studies while not being Muslims themselves), to the effect of “Well, you can’t really understand the Qu’ran just by reading a translation” (which is what all Muslims say, since no “version” of it but the original Arabic is acceptable to them), and “you really need to hear it recited to understand it.” Well, that would entail me having to learn Arabic. So, I asked if I did that, and the material is still fundamentally the same, I was told, “Well, you can’t really understand it unless you’ve grown up with it in Arabic culture and have had it be a part of your daily existence for your whole life.” Okay…so that means that around 75%, literally, of worldwide Muslims really don’t understand the Qu’ran or Islam because they don’t speak Arabic, and haven’t grown up in an Arabic culture where they’re surrounded with this stuff all the time…and, I frankly just don’t buy that, particularly since Muslims take pride in the fact that their numbers worldwide are so large. Certainly, there are a large number of Arabic Muslims who still think they’re the “only real Muslims,” but if their religion is really supposed to be as universal as they suggest it is, then one has to give the benefit of the doubt to these vast numbers of non-Arabic Muslims.

      Certainly, no language is entirely translatable to another, since so much of linguistic comprehension has to do with cultural references and contexts; even if one’s command of a language is really superb, one is still going to miss many nuances of it if one isn’t from the original culture. That hasn’t stopped thousands of years of human history in trying to learn other languages and attempting to reach out to people based on their basic shared humanity; and, if it really were a limiting factor, it would mean that huge swathes of activity are entirely useless and pointless–including the majority of human formal/academic education for the last several thousand years. (That may be useless and pointless for other reasons…but, I digress!)

      The same is true of human experiences and thoughts, I think. Sure, no one is in anyone else’s head (except for the characters on Being John Malkovich, but that’s a special case!), so no one really gets why other people do what they do, think how they think, or understand their own lives and experiences in the manner they do. However, some degree of communication is possible and desirable between people, and thus one can come to a better understanding of others, even if it doesn’t end up being a complete one.

      In terms of your reservations regarding self-determination: yes, I see what you mean, and I totally agree there. My attempt to understand your experiences would be my own attempt to understand them, not to substitute my understanding for your own, or to say that my own understanding is better than or trumps yours. (However, there are some spiritual systems that have done and still do that–certain gurus, for example, claim to have more complete knowledge of people simply by looking at them than they do of themselves, which I don’t buy for a millisecond.) My own experience of understanding your experiences, then, is my own to figure out, just as your understanding of your own experiences is yours to figure out–though mine is at a kind of meta-level and a degree of remove and relevance from yours, which should thus be judged on its context. Even if you communicate in the clearest and fullest manner possible what your own thoughts on your experiences are to me, I’ll still be interpreting them by the very act of listening to them and taking them in, since I’ll remember some bits better than others, and I’ll make my own connections between the uses of your words and concepts that may have further relevance or appeal to me, etc.

      So, that’s that; but, I’d see a difference in that and what you’ve expressed worries and distaste over in your opening lines above. I wouldn’t try and interpret another person’s experiences on my own terms for them, though I can’t avoid interpreting other people’s experiences on my own terms for me. That would certainly be rude and loathsome to do, and I’ve found it rude and loathsome when others have done it for me

      And, who are the ones I’ve had a great deal of experience with doing that to me? MONISTS! (Including in this very blog’s comments in the past…) So, it all kind of circles back again. ;)

      • Hmm, also interesting.

        I fully appreciate where you’re coming from regarding the necessity of interpreting my experiences on your own terms for yourself. That’s just the way things work whether we want them to or not and I don’t see that as a bad thing at all.

        I start reaching for my napalm and associated sundries when people start exporting those interpretations in an attempt to invalidate my interpretations, particularly when they attempt to obtain state-approval for their interpretation exporting.

        I couldn’t agree more with the emphasis on experience. I for instance have never experienced anything like a totem (I take that to be the spirit that embodies all of the experiences and qualities of every individual of a particular species, correct me if I’m wrong) but my recent self-reflection on my own spirits has definitely broadened my horizons (I used to be fiercely anti-Archetype. To paraphrase Mitch Hedberg and Monty Python “I still am but I used to be too” and “I got better!”). And as far as totems go, humans are after all animals so why not eh?

        And I know it’s kind of silly but whenever I see any more-enlightened-than-thou monist types get taken down by you in the comments section on Patheos I can’t help but fondly think of you as my hero. Also “HELL YEAH IN THEIR F****** FACE!”.

        Not that I have moments of immaturity or anything. ;)

      • No, I never have those, ever…Or, should that be “I still do but I used to too”? ;)

  4. [...] by my discussion of some of the theological issues related to monotheism, polytheism, and the “human totem” idea that I posted on a while back–a post that generated a lot of conversation in the [...]


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