Essay
Culture
Weirdness
9 min read

The secret world of spiritual experiences

Amid prevailing cultural suspicions towards religion, exploring spiritual experiences reveals their profound significance to individuals and civilizations. Dan Kim calls for an open-minded investigation into the nature of reality.

Daniel is an advertising strategist turned vicar-in-training.

Spiritual Experiences in London
Dan Kim, Midjourney.ai

In the spring of 1945, Psychologist Genevieve Foster, a chartered member of the New York Analytical Psychology Club, awoke from a nap and experienced a visionary experience where she saw a luminous figure of a human. This shining person flooded the entire room with dazzling light. There were no words or names between Foster and this figure except the experience of “an interchange, a flood, flowing both ways, of love”.  

She had no idea what was happening to her.  

She was a psychologist, and fully committed to the scientific method. Religious experiences were easily explained away as hallucinations or weird brain hiccups. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that this was real! This vision lasted for five days. Five days. Afterwards, she tried to talk to her husband and one colleague about the experience. Both became very alarmed and dissuaded her from talking about it any further or even entertaining the possibility that this experience could have been real.  

It was only in 1985 that she began to speak publicly about it. She had kept what she describes as, “the most important thing that has ever happened to me”, a shameful secret for 40 years.  

These experiences are often the most important moments of a person’s life and can even form the foundations of entire cultures and civilisations. 

When it comes to unexplainable spiritual experiences, we are advised by sensible Western society to sweep them under the rug immediately and never talk about them. Except maybe at the pub after a pint or ten. The modern world has been taking part in the most elaborate mass self-censorship campaign to date.  

In the 1990s, a Swedish study interviewed 50 people who had lost spouses in the previous year. They were asked whether they had experienced any form of contact with their dead partner. Only one person, a spiritualist, enthusiastically admitted she had. However, when the interviewer informed them that this experience was a common part of the grieving process, that one became 25. That’s an astronomical leap from two per cent to 50 per cent of respondents as soon as they were given permission to speak out. Clearly, they were so fearful of being thrown into the loony bin. Dale Allison points out this widespread self-censorship in his 2022 book Encountering Mystery: Religious Experiences in a Secular Age where he notes that this phenomenon means that these experiences go under-reported, under-researched, and under-understood by most people in the West today.  

Spiritual experiences are a universal part of human life, taking various forms such as ecstatic bliss, out-of-body visions, awe-inspiring mystical unity, death-bed visions, near-death experiences, intense feelings of love, and encounters with sublime beauty. Indeed, they are often described as religious experiences. These encounters are often pivotal moments in a person's life, sometimes laying the foundation for entire cultures and civilizations. Historical accounts, including Moses’ encounter with the Burning Bush, Siddhartha Gautama's transcendent enlightenment, and Paul's Damascus Road vision, testify to the profound significance of these experiences as sources of spiritual knowledge and meaning. This is just as true today. I’m reminded of the famous atheist A.J. Ayer who “saw a divine being” during a near-death experience after which he said:  

“I am afraid I’m going to have to revise all my various books and opinions”.  

I certainly don’t think Ayer was the gullible type. 

You’d be better off being a conspiracy theorist than a sincere modern mystic. 

Yet, despite their profound importance, there has been a concerted cultural campaign to stigmatise, dismiss and reduce these experiences to purely internal, psychological events. Any claim that these experiences might, in any way, be real has been ridiculed and consigned to Glastonbury-like New Age festivals and niche subcultures that use words like ‘astral projection’. You’d be better off being a conspiracy theorist than a sincere modern mystic.  

We’ve created the societal conditions where the most important events of people’s lives are hidden like dirty little secrets by insisting on a tame, clinically sanitised, spiritually inert universe.  

However, it seems as though in the 21st Century, the tide is turning. Allison notes a remarkable statistic from Pew Research America. In 1962, only 22 per cent of pollsters said that they had had what they would describe as a religious experience. In 2009, that number was up to 49 per cent. Now, I really don’t think this is because there’s been an increase in divine intervention. That would be weird! Instead, the statistic is cultural evidence that shows that the zeitgeist is changing and is denting the widespread self-censorship. 

It is only relatively recently that we’ve started to catalogue and analyse religious experiences from around the world. The most extensive archive, The Alister Hardy Religious Experience Research Centre, was only founded in 1969 and has, to date, collected 6,000 first-hand spiritual experiences which is ever-increasing. We’ve only just begun to tap into this rich data let alone archive even a fraction of these experiences.  

How reliable are these first-hand accounts, you might ask? Couldn’t you take each individual case and find materialist explanations for every one of them? Perhaps, but as William James wrote over 100 years ago, “Weak sticks make strong bundles”. It appears people of all ages, cultures, and creeds experience an ‘unseen realm’ and sincerely believe them to be genuine and true. These experiences have a material impact on their lives and even on whole civilisations. So, we should at the very least be careful in suggesting that humans have been experiencing mass corporate delusions from the dawn of time itself. In fact, that would be a pretty bleak conclusion with even bleaker implications. As Allison puts it, if all spiritual experiences turn out to be purely psychological illusions:  

“We would be forced to conclude that a widespread, cross-cultural human experience, one that commonly moves people to use the word ‘God’ and regularly prods them to become more loving and less selfish, an experience that far more often than not feels wholly real and indeed self-authenticating, and experience than even children of two or three years old have reported is, at bottom, illusory.” 

This wouldn’t just affect how we view spiritual experiences but every experience that we have. If our experience of the world is so unreliable, then how are we to trust even our rational minds and the conclusions we come to? How can we trust our vision and our sense of touch? So, the stakes are pretty high about what we make of all this.  

Behind the question of spiritual experiences is the more profound question about the nature of reality itself. Is there a spiritual realm? Do we have souls? Can there be a God or gods? These questions are so critically important that we shouldn’t just take on cultural assumptions wholesale.  

It is only in the last 30 years that we’ve discovered that 95% of our universe is made up of dark matter and dark energy, which are just sci-fi-sounding names given to the totally invisible, unmeasurable, unobservable ‘stuff’ that govern the structure of the universe. If we were to somehow map the entire universe with the most advanced technologies from the smallest atom to the largest galactic superstructures, we would still only have access to 5% of the universe. That’s staggering! Spiritual experiences and dark matter have that in common. While we can’t see dark matter with any of our scientific instruments, we can see their effects on the visible universe like their gravitational impact on the universe, and the expansion of the universe. That’s how we can speculate about its existence.  

In a similar way, spiritual experiences compose a significant chunk of the mystery that is the human experience, and we can see their effects on people and on human cultures. And the crucial question becomes, what causes them? Is it a pure psychological illusion, or is there something real but unobservable causing them? Materialism has never been ‘proved’ but it has been culturally assumed, and in fairness, not without some good reason. Scientific instruments and discoveries have shown that many things that were once considered supernatural or spiritual are in fact explainable by totally natural causes. A healthy scepticism is always welcome, but somewhere along the line, a huge leap was made that said:  

‘Because we can attribute some spiritual events to natural causes, we can assume that all of reality consists of natural causes only’.  

That’s a dogmatic statement, not an evidential one. That’s a bit like insisting that only 5% of the universe really exists because it’s the only 5% we can accurately measure. You might still not be convinced, but my call is simply for open-mindedness. Whether or not there is a spiritual dimension to reality is by no means a closed case. It begs continual investigation and genuine wrestling.  

I could hear the waves of the sea, but it was as if I was one with it; the stars above me seemed to shine with a supernatural brightness. 

When I was 15 years old, I had my first spiritual experience. I was sitting on a beach, late one night, with three friends talking about life, faith, and meaning. (Yes, 15-year-old boys do have moments of sincerity…) At some point, one of them suggested that we try praying to God and see what happens. We were all vaguely Christians. We said some faltering teenage prayers asking God to turn up. At In that moment, I felt an awesome, physical weight on my shoulders. It wasn’t painful or scary, but it was overwhelming. There was a tender warmth and a sense of presence; an infinite love that accompanied the weight. I could hear the waves of the sea, but it was as if I was one with it; the stars above me seemed to shine with a supernatural brightness. Words can’t describe the experience except for “I met God”. What was striking was that we all had this similar experience together.  

That experience lasted maybe two minutes, but those two minutes shifted the trajectory of my life. I am now a Christian with all the bells and whistles like miracles, resurrection, afterlife... And look, I’m not gullible. Maybe I was primed, perhaps it was placebo wish-fulfilment, maybe it was something in the water or just a run-of-the-mill hallucination. Despite this, I am fully and rationally convinced that my experience was real; not just in a subjective in-my-head reality, but a genuine something-outside-the-material-realm-met-me kind of reality. So obviously, this is also a very personal question. The stakes are high. But it’s not just for me but for many, if not most, people in our lives.  

If it turns out that only a fraction of spiritual experiences are real... the universe becomes wilder and infinitely more exciting and untamed than the 20th Century would have us believe 

I can tell you now that I can probably explain away most of the stories I have heard from friends and strangers about spiritual experiences to coincidence, enthusiasm, lack of sleep, and mushrooms.

But not all… and that’s crucial.

Even if 99 per cent of them are total illusions, that one per cent has the potential to change everything. If it turns out that only a fraction of spiritual experiences are real, that they are actually moments when a human being encounters something beyond the material world, everything changes. The universe becomes wilder and infinitely more exciting and untamed than the 20th Century would have us believe. No longer an inert mass of stardust, our world becomes ablaze with spiritual fire. Things that we find most valuable in human existence then start to have the potential to be real. Actually real. Love can be real. Beauty can be real. Our sense of self-worth and infinite dignity can be real. God can also be real which raises complicated emotions.  

Your spiritual experiences don’t make you crazy. They make you human. The question is, what are you going to do about it? You could ignore them and explain them away, continuing with the materialist dogma of today. That’s safe, but you could also risk missing out on the most important experiences and insights of your entire life. I often wonder how different Genevieve Foster’s life may have been had she been able to openly talk about and explore the implications of her experience. Or, you could pay attention to them and see where they lead. They don’t come often, and they don’t last very long but when they come, they are like unexpected gifts that have the potential to change your life forever. 

 

Review
Culture
Film & TV
Monsters
Sport
5 min read

Horror turns pro: when greatness demands blood

The pursuit of sporting glory turns into a fever-dream of sacrifice, madness, and mythic violence
A player holding a finger to his lips stands in front of an indoor American football pitch.
Marlon Wayans.
Universal Pictures.

October is here…spooky season. Naturally, I’ve decided to pivot exclusively to the horror genre, beginning with HIM

The promotion for the film has placed Jordan Peele (who stormed onto the scene with Get Out) front and centre, so much so that one might be forgiven for assuming that he is the writer/director. He isn’t. His Monkeypaw Productions have produced the picture, and so one can assume he has had some creative input, but the film is helmed by Justin Tipping. This is Tipping’s second feature film. He co-wrote it and directed it. Sophomore, but no slump here. The film is superb! 

All horror fiction explores contemporary themes in the mode of the ‘unnerving’, and often by adopting and then playing with the conventions of another genre. In the case of HIM it is ‘sport’ that takes a horrifying turn. We begin by meeting our protagonist, Cameron ‘Cam’ Cade, as a young boy. He is watching his favourite American football star, Isaiah White, take lead the ‘San Antonio Saviours’ to victory. In the process Isaiah is injured. Cam looks away. His father forces him to look at the television screen and take in the violent scenes, while giving a speech about the necessity of ‘sacrifice’. 

A decade or so later the father has died, and Cam is a rising star in the sport, tipped to be the next ‘GOAT’ (Greatest Of All Time), the most worthy successor to Isaiah White’s legacy. While practicing late one night he is violently assaulted by a figure in a goat costume. The resulting head injury puts his prospects into question. It is doubtful that he can even play football going forward. He and his family are devastated.  

‘Salvation’ seems to come when his agent calls him with an offer that seems too good to be true. The ‘Saviours’ are seeking to sign him as their quarterback, replacing Isaiah. All he must do to earn this great opportunity is to spend a week with Isaiah at his specialised training compound, to demonstrate his potential and win Isaiah’s blessing. He accepts, and travels to the remote compound. As his car pulls up, he encounters a number of Isaiah’s demented ‘fans’ (who operate more akin to the Manson Family) decrying him in violent screams. He brushes this off and enters to meet Isaiah. He finds him engaged in an odd form of taxidermy with the skulls and skins of goats. The two embrace and share warm words of respect and welcome. The training begins.  

What follows is a rapid descent into bloody madness. 

I won’t say much more for set-up; only that the following week quickly becomes less a training camp, and more a psychedelic fever-dream of physical and psychological torture. The film is gruelling to watch in the best way. Tipping directs this masterfully, disorientating the viewer with sudden jumps from wide shots to close-ups to X-ray inflected visions of the appalling damage endured by athletes seeking to achieve their best. The cinematography of Kira Kelly keeps this relentless confusion running throughout the entire film, playing with angles and stillness and sudden swoops. 

These visuals are supplemented by some terrific performances. From the exceptionally creepy ‘fans’, led by Naomi Grossman, to Jim Jeffries reigning his comedic persona in to play Isaiah’s jaded and sardonic personal doctor (who is constantly drawing Isaiah’s blood…uh oh!), to Tim Heidecker’s unctuous agent always grasping for more. The standouts, however, are Tyriq Withers as Cam and Marlon Wayans as Isaiah. Wayans, of the ‘comedy’ dynasty, is best known for dreadful ‘funny’ (not ‘dreadfully funny’) films, including the Scary Movie franchise. Every now and then he has demonstrated his serious acting chops, shining in Requiem for a Dream, but this performance ought to cement his reputation as a genuine talent.  

He is mesmerising as Isaiah, switching in an instant from quiet melancholy, when reflecting on this past glory and the nature of sporting sacrifice, to outright unhinged menace – screaming directly in Cam’s face when trying to motivate him to go further and further. He dominates every scene he is in and is the lynchpin of the film’s mood, his performance (effortlessly walking the tightrope above measured and manic) driving the bewilderment the film seeks to force upon its audience. He is aided by Withers’ straight-man, who masterfully maintains a quiet yearning in the face of bafflement. He is muted and introverted without ever disappearing into the background, and so is instrumental in supporting Wayans as he gives the performance of his career. 

In spite of all of this brilliance, I have one small critique. The film’s theme is…messy. It is also far less subtle than it thinks it is. Its focus on the pain and suffering of sporting excellence – which is displayed in the literal brutality of injury – and the idea of selling one’s body, health, and even soul for glory, is often undermined by supernatural and theological symbolism which interrupts the dramatic thematic force. The use of the goat, both as a verbal and visual symbol, is overdone, and is rather obvious to anyone who knows even a little of biblical or esoteric literature.  

Added to this, the constant reference to sacrifice, and to behaviour resembling the cultic, continues the on-the-nose hammering; cemented at the end when an actual pentagram is emblazoned on a football field. This is a shame, as the final scene is a well-earned, wonderfully slapstick celebration of horror-movie gore and splatter, undermined by the symbolic silliness. None of this is enough to ruin the film – I still think it is superb – but I would have preferred Tipping to make a choice: subtle realism, or all-out commitment to the supernaturally sinister. In trying to have-its-cake-and-eat-it the film compromises the bake…a slight soggy bottom of a denouement. 

The film just fails to be the GOAT of this year’s horror fare. Still, a jolly entertaining cinematic experience which I highly recommend for October viewing. 

4.5 stars. 

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