Review: The Religion of the Future

A friend recommended I read philosopher Roberto Mangaberia Unger’s book “The Religion of the Future.” It’s an examination of religion, religions of the past, and how we might deliberately construct one for a better future. That summary barely does it justice, so a review is most certainly in order.

Early on, Unger clearly takes religion seriously as a social force – perhaps an inseparable part of human experience. His goal is to deconstruct religious trends to see what we can learn to deliberately create a helpful religion, The Religion of the Future. It’s obviously a heavy lift, but Unger is more than ready to do so.

In examining the human condition, he argues humans confront death, groundlessness, insatiability, and belittlement. We end, we are unsolid, we can be more than we are and do more than we ever do, and it’s very humiliating. Starting from this almost-Buddhist like realization, he analyzes what he sees as three major “advanced” religious trends.

Unger classifies religions into three categories for analysis. Overcoming the World (represented by Buddhism) seeks to transcend the world. Humanizing the World (represented by Confucianism) is about building society in an all-to complex world. Struggling With the World (represented by salvation religions like Christianity) is about people being a spirit who can grow and transcend. Unger believes the Struggling With the World holds the most promise, that promise of growth and being more than we are.

I found this section the weakest of the book, ironically, because even with my limited theological knowledge, his classification as related to existing religions is far too simple. There are salvation-driven forms of Buddhism, neo-Confucian schools that tended to mysticism, and Chrisianities that were basically pagan, and so on. His take on pagan religions ignores their complexities – and indeed how many survived in various forms, such as religious Taoism.

Unger also seems wary of some syncretic trends, whereas I’d argue most religions are inherently syncretic in practice. In fact Unger’s entire effort is essentially syncretic. This wariness is just odd, even when he actually has points about specific events.

This may seem that I’m down on this section of the book, whereas I’d argue it felt incomplete. Its’ salvation (ha) is the fact that despite what I’d argue is a deliberately narrow view of religions, Unger has spot on ideas of their benefits and flaws. Several times I found myself surprised by his conclusions only to agree with him – he at least “has enough” from his classification system to go places.

Unger also seems aware of his own bias. It’s clear he comes from a Christian background and that affects him – but he also comes to the conclusion that Christianity can’t evolve into The Religion of the Future. This book also has him wrestling with ideas, repeating things he’s clearly thought through.

The other benefit is that Unger, despite being an experienced writer and philosopher, hasn’t lost the enthusiasm of a second-year philosophy student stoned out of his mind. There’s a generosity to his work, he wants to share, he wants to wrestle with ideas (Struggling with the World indeed). Even though he has areas of deep opinion about certain philosophers, he’s not coming from a position of prissy judgement. Most importantly, it’s clear that he cares about people.

After analyzing religion, Unger then goes on to propose the framework, ethics, society, and challenges of an ideal Religion of the Future. I’d say this part of the book is superior to his initial analysis as he’s constructing an effective framework, though I’d have liked more historic examples. Critique aside, Unger opens up even more.

The funny thing is that ultimately Unger’s proposal reads as – dare I say it – a kind of syncretism. His confrontation with the instability of human existence more than echoes Buddhism. His emphasis on creating a functional society resonates with Confucianism and humanism. The ultimate goal is an evolution, a Salvation.

His Religion of the Future is a very pro-human religion, emphasizing what he calls Deep Freedom, the basis of a society that evolves and grows and encourages that in all people. To Unger – and more power to him I say – the goal of religion is a happier society and happier people who can reinvent themselves, and include as many people as possible. Each human is an embodied spirit, an infinite potential, to be given space to evolve and to connect to each other in love and cooperation.

However his proposals, though often abstract, are neither naive nor bereft of action. He has plenty of thoughts, from a general belief in limited market forces to the need for wide-scale education. He recognizes the flaws, often brutal, in society and religions – and he’s not here to make excuses.

He gives you an outline, albeit one that is hard to summarize unless you’re, well, him. Unger needs to release a condensed outline of his book, similar to Timothy Snyder’s On Freedom. This review indicates how hard it is to summarize easily as you’ll notice how general had to be.

It’s obvious that, flaws aside, I’d argue this book is well worth reading. Unger’s commitment to his cause, thoughtfulness, concern for humanity, all come together to create something special. I could argue with many things (yes, oft related to Taoism and syncretism), but I’d say he and I are about 80% on the same page. You might have a different 80% than me, but my guess is you’ll find yourself agreeing with him more often than not.

However, again fair warning, the book is deep and verbose. It is not written for everyone – it’s for people deep into philosophy and religion and applying it.. You might want to read a preview or borrow a copy to see if it’s for you.

As for me, it was well worth it. My copy is marked up with a bunch of those small page-stickers people use to mark passages without writing on the book. I’ll be reviewing it in time – and I rather imagine you’ll be reading some of what it inspires here.

May we, as Unger says, live so we die only once. As he closes out this book, he hopes we have a religion where how we live lets us “be deathless, temporarily.”

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Actually, I Get Ancestor Worship

In my readings on religion and spirituality, in my own spiritual journeys, I keep coming across practices of Ancestor Worship. As time goes on, I honestly see the value of it in general. I’m not even talking any possible supernatural benefits.

What kicked this off was some post I read online about a person respecting a well in a place they grew up in. Someone had ensured the community with that well and led them to discuss the purpose and value of Ancestor Worship.. So I figured I’d collect and share my thoughts so far on Ancestor Worship for discussion and of course to try to put them into words.

First, Ancestor Worship provides awareness of history. Understanding where you came from and why is important, and like any kind of history it makes you stop and think. It also means you stop and think about what you’re doing for the future. Are you going to be the Ancestor remembered or the one forgotten?

Secondly, Ancestor Worship has the benefit of essentially ritualizing history. One connects with their past, understands where they came from and so on – all bound in the power of ritual. This has a way of energizing our connections and bringing and sustaining their meaning.


Third, Ancestor Worship encourage what I’ve called an “ecosystem” approach to life, which I’ve written of a number of times. To look to the past and the future, to be aware of history and connection, to bring it to life in ritual is to understand the connectedness of the world. Like other practice I’ve discussed (contemplation of correspondences, worship of gods, etc.) it keeps life organic.

Fourth, Ancestor Worship encourages (hopefully) respect for what one has. To understand why you have where you live, the people who worked on your community, etc. is powerful. It’s a reminder of how we got where we are. Your possession isn’t yours, it’s history – and eventually someone else’s.

Now having enumerated my thoughts on the benefits, a few thoughts in turn on healthy ways to engage in said Ancestor worship.

  1. “Ancestors” aren’t blood relatives. Ancestors are people who helped us be who we are now and who we respect. Your grandparents may have been awful so forget them – but maybe you honor the founder of your profession.
  2. “Ancestors” aren’t perfect, and I view “Ancestor Worship” as a way to build on their good and make up for the bad. If they’re flawed people worthy of respect, then part of Ancestor Worship is doing good with what they left us – while not carrying on their flaws.
  3. Ancestors can be respected a number of ways, but it should be ritualized. It may be as simple as giving thank, or donations, or celebrating their birthday. Make it organized and also meaningful.
  4. Ancestor Worship doesn’t have to involve any supernatural elements. That’s optional.

Granted these are not thoughts for an organized practice or anything. I myself don’t do much more at the time than occasionally express respect for certain people responsible for the books I read, or acknowledge the lineage of where I work. But maybe organizing them will give me direction – and of course provide my readers and friends with something to read and discuss.

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Threads and Validity

Previously I’d written on ways people tried to claim spiritual authority – Ancient Tradition and/or Initiation – and the flaws of both. I’d mentioned a bit on how I validate spiritual teachings and advice, and wanted to share that next.

And considering I get into things like “did this 3000 year old sword hilt indicate breathing exercises” yeah, this kind of thing interests me. Well, I also like breathing exercises.

So as regular readers know, Taoism is a large part of my spiritual practice. Taoism has a convoluted history going back thousands of years, of which the famous Tao Te Ching is a major milestone, but not the only milestone. Taoism includes breath work, philosophy, psychological exercises, folk religion, I Ching commentaries, a sprawling collection of immortals, mystics, and weirdos, and more. It also includes what I call “Taoist Diss Tracks,” and trust me you have to see what kind of snark people who emphasize “doing by not doing” can get up to in order to appreciate it.

Note that Taoism isn’t particularly restrictive, and my spiritual practice includes many other elements. But I’ll just focus on Taoism for now.

The question is how I make sense from my Taoist readings and learn useful techniques and teachings? I mean there’s a lot so there has to be something there, but also there are also Taoists poetically accusing others of being weird perverts, so you gotta do some sorting.

The best way I’ve found to describe my methods are Threads and Validity.

When studying such a sprawling tradition, I look for Threads that endure throughout the various teachings. Is there something that persists between enough of the works I read and over a note able time period that represents A) a teaching with a history, and B) that is applicable and can be actioned.

Note that I say teaching with a history. This may mean a consistent practice, but also means a practice that you can see discussed, analyzed, and maybe even evolving. It may be argued about, it may be relatively unchanged, but you can look at it and say “yes, I can see what that is and why it is.”

Also, note it should be actionable. You can have some kind of consistent or evolved teaching but if you can’t do anything with it then it’s sort of hard to try out.

A few examples from my interest in Taoism:

  1. Breath exercises seem to go back very far in Taoism, predating the Tao Te Ching. Slow, even breath seemed to be a major part from the start.
  2. Post Tao Te Ching teachings that involve “spiritual alchemy” have some pretty consistent metaphors for mental elements and psychological effects of meditation – or at least the authors I have an interest in (which seem to come from the same school so not surprising).
  3. Political and social advice for Taoists seems pretty consistent, from avoidance of greed to a mistrust of intellectualism. There’s debates over implementing that, but the Tao Te Ching seemed to embody and promote some teachings that stayed relatively consistent for people who you know cared.

But all this aside, this history and ability to action things doesn’t matter if you can’t find some Validity in the spiritual works. You have to put them into action and see what happens.

And that’s where you have to get to work, try it out, and see if it works. Does the breath meditation seem to work for you? Do ethical teachings help you out (which requires a lot of self introspection)? Do you connect with this god or that?

Spiritual practices require you to actually dive in and try out what you’ve found. Which also requires you to ask what do you expect to happen, what are your goals? This is challenging, since the answer may be “to see what happens” – in fact in some meditative techniques that’s kind of half the goal. Sometimes having a goal actually messes things up, like forms of meditation, which makes it more a challenge.

Yes, I include ethical and social practices in this as well. Thinking about your ethical choices, how you act, and what happens really helps you grow. Even if sometimes it’s growing by confronting things about yourself and your society.

But it’s up to me to learn, to apply things, and see what happens. I take responsibility for what I’m doing so I can learn, put things into practice, and be better. My regular readers know there are some things I don’t comment on as I’m not sure I know enough to do so safely and effectively. You gotta dive in to learn.

So that’s how I validated spiritual teachings. I look for histories and consistencies that I can put into action then I give them a try. It also means putting in the work and taking the responsibility.

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