Those who have built their own religion

Lent 2020 - Day Ten

Happy Dudesday! Today, 6 March, is the Day of the Dude, the holiest day in the calendar of Dudeism, a religion founded in 2005. The Church of the Latter-Day Dude encourages believers to 'take it easy', and draws on the Coen brothers' film, The Big Lebowski, released on this day in 1998.

Logo of the Church of the Latter-Day Dude - a yin-yang bowling ball

Dudeism is but one tongue-in-cheek religion established this century; others include the Flying Spaghetti Monster/Pastafarianism (2005) and Jediism (2001-2005), extending the fictional order of knights from the Star Wars (1977 - ) series of films into a religion.

Jediism came to the fore around the time of the 2001 census in the UK, when citizens were encouraged to write in 'Jedi knight' in the space enquiring about one's religion. The aim was to mock the fact that the British government was still collecting data about its citizens' religious affiliation. With over 390,000 British citizens entering 'Jedi knight' onto their census forms, the new religion became the fourth-biggest in the UK. By the 2011 census, however, the number of adherents to Jediism had fallen back to 176,000, causing it to slip to seventh place. Basic tenets include purity of thought and detachment of emotions as essential to enlightenment plus self-improvement through knowledge and wisdom.

The Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster was set up as a parody religion with the intention to openly mock established faiths. It does so by creating one of outlandish absurdity, and then claiming that it is actually no less absurd in its beliefs than any mainstream religion. Pastafarians, adherents of the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster claim that their religion has as much right to be taken seriously as any other, given that all other religions are based on equally untestable hypotheses. The legal systems of the US and Holland refute that position, while New Zealand permits Pastafarian priests to officiate at weddings.

Which brings me onto Rastafarianism, as much a social movement as a religion. It developed in Jamaica in the 1930s, focused around the belief that His Imperial Majesty, Haile Selassie I of Ethopia, was the embodiment of the second coming of Christ, Jah Rastafari. An Afrocentric religion, Rastafarians saw a return to Zion (Ethiopia) as the final antidote to the oppression they experienced at the hands of 'Babylon', the British colonisers. And as with many Dudeists, Rastafarians enjoy smoking cannabis, ganja, the holy herb. The 2001 UK census stated the number of Rastafarians as around 5,000.

More controversial, the brainchild of one man, L. Ron Hubbard, Scientology (founded in 1952) is more of a cult than religion. America has often shown how overbearing egos and an indulgent fiscal code gifting tax exemptions for any newly-created religions can create massive business enterprises based on their followers. Many evangelical 'megachurches', while rooted in Christianity, are highly materialistic in their practices.

For a good overview of new religious movements (founded after 1945), read on here.

Looking at newly established religious movements, I can see a wide variety of reasons for setting them up - from greed and egomania, to mockery of religion as a whole, to social protest, to genuine searches for mystical experience and meaning of life, as well as rejection of traditional forms of worship. Many humans are entirely without a need for that mystical experience and are happy to live as atheists, adhering to ethical codes that have no need for a supreme being. Yet many do seek a deeper level of understanding of how our brief lives fit into an expanding Universe of billions of galaxies consisting of billions of stars. The wonder of coincidence, of conscious observation... Art captures it better than science, which catches up eventually.

I end today not with the Dude, but with A.E. Housman, From Far, from Eve and Morning, from his collection of poems, A Shropshire Lad, set to music by Ralph Vaughan-Williams.



From far, from eve and morning
And yon twelve-winded sky,
The stuff of life to knit me
Blew hither: here am I.

Now—for a breath I tarry
Nor yet disperse apart—
Take my hand quick and tell me,
What have you in your heart.

Speak now, and I will answer;
How shall I help you, say;
Ere to the wind's twelve quarters
I take my endless way.

Long before Joni Mitchell sang that we are "stardust/Billion year-old carbon", Housman intuitively felt that the atoms of which we are composed comes together to form us - and then disperse. He notes that life is but a brief moment in time; our priorities are to communicate sincerely with one another - and to help one another, before the time passes. The last verse suggests rebirth, constant rebirth.

Housman, being a classical scholar (he taught Enoch Powell at Oxford), refers to the 'twelve-winded sky', the 'wind's twelve quarters', as used in antiquity, rather than the eight/16/32 wind directions that have evolved since the Middle Ages. His references to 'the Roman' in On Wenlock Edge suggest that Housman felt a strong familiarity with those times. He has seen before. And is certain that he will do so until Eternity.

Six of the poems from A Shropshire Lad were set to music in 1909 by Ralph Vaughan Williams, my favourite British composer.

This time last year:
Lent 2019 - Looking for the Wonder of It All

This time two years ago:
That was the winter that was

This three years ago:
Self-discipline, habits and Growth

This time six years ago:
Putin - tactical genius, strategic failure

This time seven years ago:
Socialist Realist architecture in late winter sun

This time nine years ago:
The Cripple and the Storyteller - part II

This time ten years ago:
The station with no name

This time 11 years ago:
Lenten thoughts on motoring

This time 11 years ago:
Flowers, spring - already