Feminism and Religion

How Not to Join a Cult: (It’s not as easy as it seems)

A still from Will Allen’s 2016 documentary “Holy Hell.”

Many, many moons ago, when I was still living in England, my husband and I thought it would be a wonderful idea to join a local meditation group.

Meditation, after all, is rightly praised for conferring countless benefits for body, mind, and soul. Renown teachers such as Pema Chodron, Jon Kabat-Zinn, and Jack Kornfield have popularized the idea of Buddhist-inspired meditation being just what stressed Western people need to live more joyfully and mindfully.

Alas, Pema Chodron, Jon Kabat-Zinn, and Jack Kornfield were all on the other side of the Atlantic. In this pre-Zoom age we had to make do with what was available to us locally. So, we went to a free taster evening led by a Western Buddhist monk who seemed like a kind and well-spoken young man. The venue was pleasant, the participants were friendly and welcoming. The meditation practice itself, a visualization of breathing white light into the heart space and breathing out the gunky stuff, created a heightened mood and expansive state of mind. In this altered state, we listened to the monk speak about Buddhist philosophy. I didn’t agree with everything he said—he was a bit too ascetic and world-denying to my taste. Even so, the meditative experience itself was so enjoyable that we became regulars and befriended the other regulars. Not only did we attend the weekly meditation sessions, but we also joined the group activities, such as fundraising walks and other events.

Fast forward a few months. Our teacher asked if I would lead a few sessions, as he had teaching commitments elsewhere. At first, I was honored. But then as I understood this was meant to be a regular thing and not the one off, it began to seem very strange. In most traditions, students study meditation for considerably longer than a few months before they are asked to lead classes. I wasn’t even an actual Buddhist and had never taken refuge vows.

Yet not only was I asked to lead the meditation, I was expected to lecture on Buddhist philosophy. I was told to purchase a book by the monk’s spiritual leader, study each chapter, and talk about the message. I learned that in this school of Buddhism, people were only allowed to read books written by their spiritual leader and not by other Buddhists of any other school. Some of the stuff in this book just seemed off. Any act of self-assertiveness or personal agency was denounced as “self-cherishing,” supposedly a dangerous obstacle to enlightenment. However, shame was celebrated as good thing as it helps herd a straying student back to the One True Path. This caused my alarm bells to go off big time.

I also learned that this branch of Buddhism preached a fanatical opposition to the Dalai Lama. They worshipped a protector deity called Dorje Shugden, shunned as a malevolent spirit by other schools of Tibetan Buddhism. My teacher was urging people to picket and protest the Dalai Lama’s upcoming visit to the UK.

My head exploded. To think that my innocent desire to practice meditation in community had landed me in some bizarro spirit-worshipping, Dalai Lama-hating cult!

My online research then revealed that the New Kadampa Tradition, the institution behind the seemingly innocuous meditation class I joined, was, in fact, a Chinese-funded cult with the express agenda to undermine and discredit the Dalai Lama.

The NKT is a new brand of pseudo-Buddhism, made in the United Kingdom. Very keen on fundraising, they have opened numerous meditation centers and residential centers across the UK and across the world. Tibetan Buddhists from actual lineage traditions won’t go near them.

*An NKT advertizing flyer. It might look innocent, but . . .*

I was lucky. By the time I learned how toxic this group was, my husband and I could get out unscathed. We had invested some time and money, but weren’t deep into the organization. Others weren’t so fortunate. Seduced by the feel-good meditations and the lure of enlightenment, flattered to be asked to teach, other people got roped into opening residential centers, volunteering their time as cooks at the NKT cafes, or even making monastic vows to the organization. The last option is a poverty trap. The monks and nuns subsist on social benefits from the UK state while spending all their time volunteering to teach, fundraise, and run the residential and retreat centers.

Here are some survivor stories:

Is the New Kadampa Tradition a Cult?

Ex-Nun Carol McQuire’s story

View at Medium.com

If I had it to do over again, I would have done my online research before attending the first class. This is what I now recommend to everyone joining a spiritual group or even a harmless-sounding meditation evening. Google the name of the organization or the leader and then add the words “cult,” “controversy,” or “criticism” in the search box and see what comes up.

As well as the danger of cults, there is also a very real problem of women and girls being sexually abused in some spiritual communities. We’ve all heard countless stories about high-profile Yoga teachers and gurus being found guilty of sexual misconduct and abuse.

Author, activist, and feminist Yogini, Uma Dinsmore-Tuli has started “Yoni Shakti: The Movement” to protest this abuse. The goal, as stated on the website, is: Eradicate Abuse of Women in Yoga and Reclaim Yoga as a Tool for Healing and Justice. You can join the movement and download the information packet for free.

Uma has created a comprehensive 13-point checklist of warning signs to let you know when you have accidently stumbled into a toxic group. You can access the list below. If I’d had this list way back when I joined that meditation group, I would have been able to extricate myself a lot earlier.

ys2020-thirteen-warning-signals-a4-poster Download

The problem with many gurus and spiritual teachers is that they encourage seekers to look for power and spiritual meaning outside themselves–in the guru or the group. As Yoga Nidra teacher and author, Tracee Stanley explains in a video conversation with Uma Dinsmore-Tuli, a good teacher will point you to the teacher within your own heart and teach you to find Source within your own soul, as women mystics of every faith have done throughout the ages. No ethical spiritual teacher will ask you to “outsource” your power and your center to another person or to a group.

Meditation and Yoga can and should be liberating in every sense of the word. Let’s work together to ensure that the world of Yoga and meditation is a safe refuge for every seeker.

Happy Holidays!

Mary Sharratt is on a mission to write women back into history. Her acclaimed novel Illuminations, drawn from the dramatic life of Hildegard von Bingen, is published by Mariner. Her new novel Revelations, about the mystical pilgrim Margery Kempe and her friendship with Julian of Norwich, is now available wherever books and ebooks are sold. Visit her website .

From the Archives: #MeToo and the Idolatry Trap by Tallessyn Zawn Grenfell-Lee

Moderator’s note: This marvelous FAR site has been running for 10 years and has had more than 3,600 posts in that time. There are so many treasures that have been posted in this decade that they tend to get lost in the archives. We are beginning this column so that we can all revisit some of these gems. Today’s blogpost was originally posted January 20, 2018. You can visit it here to see the original comments.

Really – everywhere we look – there are dead white guys. National holiday? Most likely in honor of a dead white guy. Statue on a green? Founder of a major Christian denomination? Dead white guy. Classic literature, painting, play, music ‘everyone’ is supposed to know about? Yup, probably by a dead white guy.

It’s a little exhausting.

It’s easy to develop a pretty negative attitude about all these dead white guys. I mean, some of them were pretty questionable if not downright oppressive people. Enough, already! Am I right?

Yes! Yes. Well… sort of. The thing is, some of them really did say and do wonderful, important things. I suppose we should not dismiss an entire portion of our history just on race and gender alone. And, truth is, I have a confession to make. I kind of really love the insights of some of these folks. I guess it’s easy to complain about all these dead white guys… until you fall in love with one of them.

For Love of This Life: Carol Christ’s Contribution to Ecofeminist Thought by Elizabeth Ann Bartlett

Journeying with students into the woods to dive deep into our spiritual connections with nature, I would invoke these words from Carol Christ: “There are no hierarchies among beings on earth. We are different from the swallows who fly in spring, from the many-faceted stones on the beach, from the redwood tree in the forest. We may have more capacity to shape our lives than other beings, but you and I will never fly with the grace of a swallow, live as long as a redwood tree, nor endure the endless tossing of the sea like a stone. Each being has its own intrinsic beauty and value….”[i] How can one listen to these words and not be changed? Taking in the meaning of these words, paradigm shift happens. Herein lies the gift of Carol Christ to ecofeminism.

Ecofeminism posits that the oppression and domination of women, nature, and colonized others are inextricably linked. This is largely due to two aspects of the Western cultural paradigm: 1) mind/body value dualism, and 2) what ecofeminist Karen Warren has called “the logic of domination.” Mind/body value dualism is the creation of an artificial binary of opposites which values everything associated with the mind — spirit, transcendent, men, humans, white-bodied peoples, over everything associated with the body – earth, immanent, women, nature, colonized Others. The “logic of domination” is the use of this supposed inherent superiority of those associated with the mind to justify their domination of everything associated with the body. As Western culture has spread throughout the world, this value system is now found practically every on earth.

Celebrating Our Girls, by Molly Remer

We gathered roses
and bright zinnias
to crown their heads with flowers,
these shining daughters
who we’ve cradled and fed
and loved with everything
we have
and everything we are.
We knelt before them and sang,
our hands gently washing the feet
that we once carried inside our own bodies
and that now follow
their own paths.
For a moment,
time folded
and we could see them
as babies in our arms,
curly hair and round faces,
at the same time seeing
the girls in front of us,
flowers in their hair,
bright eyed and smiling,
and so too
we see women of the future,
tall and strong boned
kneeling at the feet
of their own girls
as the song goes on and on.
We tried to tell them
what we want them to know,
what we want them to carry
with them as they go on their ways:
You are loved.
We are here.
You are loved.
You are strong.
You are magical.
We treasure who you are.
This love that carried them
forth into the very world
they walk on,
we hope it is enough
to embrace them for a lifetime,
and so we kneel and sing
and anoint and adorn
and hold their hands in ours.
We are here.
You are not alone.
You are wise in the ways.
You belong.
We are not sure if tears can say
what we mean to say,
but they fall anyway
as we try our best to weave
our words and wishes
and songs and stories,
with strength and confidence
into a cloak of power
that will encircle them with magic,
no matter
how far away
from us they journey.

Reflection: Winter Light by Sara Wright

What does this little narrative have to do with feminism you ask? Why everything! It speaks to the journey of one woman from young adulthood into old age, a woman who learns along the way that Nature/ Earth/Immanence is also the Way of the Goddess, and that living a life of meaning (in a finite loving body) is the path the goddess set her upon at birth…

It is the day before thanksgiving. For too many years, this was a time of great sorrowing – a day on which a young motherless woman said goodbye to her grandmother… a grandmother she couldn’t afford to lose, and later, much later, a grandmother she couldn’t become….

The Holidays Are Coming: Let’s Celebrate the Saturnalia by Barbara Ardinger

Here we are in December—and what a year 2021 has been. Let’s not even think about what we’ve survived—continuing pandemic, climate change, people with guns, violations of voting rights, the Orange T. Rex still at large. No no no. Let’s celebrate the coming holidays with the antique ancestor of the Feast of Fools. Let’s celebrate the Saturnalia.

Some background: Saturn, who was sometimes conflated with the Greek Titan, Cronus (who became a god of time), was an ancient Latin agricultural god whose name may derive from satur, “stuffed,” or sator, “a sower”; in either case, he stands for abundance. He was a working god who oversaw viniculture and farming and was the king of Italy during the golden age before the rise of imperial Rome. When Jupiter came to conquer him, he hid himself (latuit) in the region that came to be called Latium. The Romans soon proclaimed that Saturn’s body lay beneath the Capitol in Rome. Because his reign (and presumably his hidden corpse) brought prosperity to the city, the state treasury and the standards of the Roman legions were kept in his temple when the army was at home. Saturn’s statue was bound in woolen strips to keep him from leaving Rome. In addition to Saturn, the Romans honored Ops and popular gods like Sol Invictus, Mithra, Consus, Juventas, and Janus in their winter festivals.

The Blessing of the Elders by Rachel Thomas

, elders are people who have illuminated my path, inspired me to see my own potential. To open my eyes, all my senses, even those I did not know I had. Elders show bravery and model for us how to be strong.

What is an Elder?

The word elder comes from an Old English word which also meant ancestor or chief. A lot can change in a thousand years and many of us no longer honor older people or seek out them out for advice.

In my experience, elders are people who have illuminated my path, inspired me to see my own potential. To open my eyes, all my senses, even those I did not know I had. Elders show bravery and model for us how to be strong.

My first wise woman teachings came from my family. My mother, and her mother, taught me to be myself, to love being outdoors and the importance of having a garden. Feeling the joy of flowers, cooking with fresh herbs, planting a tree to honor the dead. These are a few ancient traditions of my ancestors that have survived even in a modernized and urban setting.

As I rediscover my connection with the earth, my eco-consciousness inspires me to transform. As I go back to nature, I re-awaken my ancient cellular memories of living in harmony with the earth. I feel called to dance barefoot, play drums, make offerings, bathe in moonlight, harvest with my own hands. As I move forward on a path which is both new and old, it is my beloved elders who have shown me how to find my way.

What is an Elder?

The word elder comes from an Old English word which also meant ancestor or chief. A lot can change in a thousand years and many of us no longer honor older people or seek out them out for advice.

A Different Type of Thanksgiving, part 2 by Sara Wright

{Part 1 was posted yesterday. You can see it here}

Soon after I began to create little traditions that I follow to this day. November is the month I begin to celebrate my love for every evergreen tree on the earth. The leaves of broadleaf trees have become nature’s mulch, yet forest green stays with us until spring, thanks to the conifers. Thanksgiving week is the time I choose to go into the forest to tip balsam boughs thanking the trees for being, always choosing a mild day when I can enjoy being outdoors. Then I weave fragrant wreaths sitting on my living room floor listening to choral music sung in Latin, a language I don’t understand, thankfully (!) This year my indoor Norfolk Island pines are already lit with rice lights for a few hours each evening lending a festive glow to the soothing cloak of darkness.

Recently I decided to include a dinner for this week of Wintergreen Tree Celebration and it turned out that the foods I wanted to cook were some of the favorite foods I prepared during those exhausting and meaningless thanksgivings, cooking that I did for others, including my children at my own expense. At first this idea of cooking a feast for myself, (after all the trees couldn’t join me) seemed silly until I recalled how much I loved my own food! I am an excellent cook and I can conjure up just about anything without a recipe.

A Different Kind of Thanksgiving, part 1 by Sara Wright

The night before my maternal grandmother died my mother pushed me so hard I fell to the floor and banged my head. My grandfather and I had just walked in the door after spending the day at a New York hospital where my grandmother lay there unconscious as I moistened her lips, rubbed cream on her arms, wept at the sound of her labored breathing. I felt such guilt, such helplessness… My grandfather who was behind me, shocked by my mother’s violent actions and sneering words muttered “Oh, Jane please,” without conviction. He knew his stepdaughter well. No one ever crossed her.

Stunned by the unwarranted physical attack and vicious remarks I picked myself off the floor and went into the dining room. The remains of thanksgiving dinner were still on the table. I don’t remember the conversation – just that my grandmother’s sisters were there. My grandfather and I left soon after, exhausted and depressed returning to his house three miles down the road. At 5AM the next morning the phone rang and I knew… my beloved grandmother was dead.

I was reeling – numb. My brother had killed himself the year before and now this. I remember nothing about the memorial service except that my grandmother was lying in a steel coffin. When my grandmother’s ashes arrived, I opened the door to receive them, took the box upstairs and put it in her closet…that was it. I spent the rest of the winter at my grandfather’s house feeling useless, returning home to Maine in the spring.

Carol P. Christ’s Legacy: Susan B. Anthony’s Bargain with the Devil

Moderator’s Note: We at FAR have been so fortunate to work along side Carol Christ for many years. She died in July this year from cancer. To honor her legacy as well as allow as many people as possible to read her thought-provoking and important blogs we are pleased to offer this new column to highlight her work. We will be picking out special blogs for reposting. This blog was originally posted November 25, 2019. You can find the original post here to see the original comments along with her responses.

[T]he most grievous wrong ever inflicted on woman has been in the Christian teaching that she was not created equal to man, and the consequent denial of her rightful place in Church and State. –Matilda Joslyn Gage, Woman, Church, and State, 1893, page 1

I do not approve of their [referring to Gage and Stanton] system of fighting the religious dogmas of people I am trying to convert to my doctrine of equal rights to women. –Susan B. Anthony to Olympia Brown, following the disputed merger of the radical National Women’s Suffrage Association with the conservative American Women’s Suffrage Association in 1889