In a series of books (e.g., A Sociable God, Up from Eden, and The Eye of Spirit), I have tried to show that religion itself has always performed two very important, but very different, functions.
One, it acts as a way of creating meaning for the separate self: it offers myths and stories and tales and narratives and rituals and revivals that, taken together, help the separate self make sense of, and endure, the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. This function of religion does not usually or necessarily change the level of consciousness in a person; it does not deliver radical transformation. Nor does it deliver a shattering liberation from the separate self altogether. Rather, it consoles the self, fortifies the self, defends the self, promotes the self.
But two, religion has also served — in a usually very, very small minority — the function of radical transformation and liberation. This function of religion does not fortify the separate self, but utterly shatters it — not consolation but devastation, not entrenchment but emptiness, not complacency but explosion, not comfort but revolution — in short, not a conventional bolstering of consciousness but a radical transmutation and transformation at the deepest seat of consciousness itself.
There are several different ways that we can state these two important functions of religion. The first function — that of creating meaning for the self — is a type of horizontal movement; the second function — that of transcending the self — is a type of vertical movement (higher or deeper, depending on your metaphor). The first I have named "translation," the second, "transformation."
With translation, the self is simply given a new way to think or feel about reality. The self is given a new belief — perhaps holistic instead of atomistic, perhaps forgiveness instead of blame, perhaps relational instead of analytic. The self then learns to translate its world and its being in the terms of this new belief or new language or new paradigm, and this new and enchanting translation acts, at least temporarily, to alleviate or diminish the terror inherent in the heart of the separate self.
But with transformation, the very process of translation itself is challenged, witnessed, undermined and eventually dismantled. With typical translation, the self (or subject) is given a new way to think about the world (or objects); but with radical transformation, the self itself is inquired into, looked into, grabbed by its throat and literally throttled to death.
... authentic transformation is not a matter of belief but of the death of the believer; not a matter of translating the world but of transforming the world; not a matter of finding solace but of finding infinity on the other side of death. The self is not made content; the self is made toast.
... transformative religion offers authenticity. For those few individuals who are ready — that is, sick with the suffering of the separate self, and no longer able to embrace the legitimate worldview — a transformative opening to true authenticity, true enlightenment, true liberation, calls more and more insistently. And, depending upon your capacity for suffering, you will sooner or later answer the call of authenticity, of transformation, of liberation on the lost horizon of infinity.
Transformative spirituality, authentic spirituality, is therefore revolutionary. It does not legitimate the world, it breaks the world; it does not console the world, it shatters it. And it does not render the self content, it renders it undone.
Source: Enlightenment Magazine
See also: Markers on the Path to Personal Authenticity
Spiritual Crisis, Spiritual Awakening, Ego Death, Ego Collapse, Ego Integrity, Ego Fragmentation, Identity Crisis, Personal Authenticity, Personal Transformation, Ken Wilber, Michael Nagel
