The Unwelcome Prophet of Higher Source

A mass suicide drew attention to one odd cult which blurs the distinction between religion and scientific fantasy. Unfortunately, that cult is not unique.

These extraordinary cults help fill the "meaning vacuum," drawing elements from the two things that for most of us have the greatest explanatory power: religion and science.

Twenty years ago, two friends and I sat listening to a self-styled prophet of a new age at a nearby junior college. The speaker was Marshall Applewhite, leader of the Higher Source cultists who recently killed themselves in Rancho Sante Fe, near San Diego. He spoke confidently of the near-advent of a UFO to save a select few who would follow him, and of their new lives together on another world. I was skeptical.

Dubbed "The Two," Applewhite and a female companion identified themselves as the "two witnesses" of God mentioned in the Book of Revelation (Rev 11:3-11). At the time, I dismissed their "religion" as an incoherent amalgam of half-truths haphazardly culled from various belief-systems, scientific theories and philosophies--sort of My Favorite Martian and Mr. Spock meet Albert Einstein, St. Francis of Assisi, and the Buddha.

Yet "The Two's" seemingly odd mix of religion and science fiction wasn't as unheard of then as some might suppose. In the early 1970s Erik von Danken wrote a series of highly popular, sensationalistic "ancient astronaut" books, the best known of which was The Chariots of the Gods. The claim: that earth was visited by extraterrestrials who left their mark on our history and our religions. Everything from the ancient Epic of Gilgamesh to Ezekiel's seraphic vision of "wheels in the sky" betrays the influence of space aliens, it was argued.

Historians, scientists, and other scholars ripped Chariots of the Gods to bits, but the popularity of its thesis was undiminished in certain circles. Other books appeared blending pop science, UFOs, and religious themes, though perhaps none were as successful as Chariots of the Gods. Neverthless, the genre persists.

Cults spawned by such hybrids of religion and science fiction have multiplied in the last two decades. In San Diego, for example, another group espouses a "UFOs are coming to take us away" scenario similar to the Higher Source cult. Billing themselves as an "academy of science," they conduct lectures on past lives and their imminent UFO rescue from planet earth. They even produce a public-access cable TV show to tell people all about it.

Why do these pseudo-religious/scientific cults arise? The standard explanation proffered by the experts still holds up: many people desperately seek meaning for their lives. These extraordinary cults help fill the "meaning vacuum," drawing elements from the two things that for most of us have the greatest explanatory power: religion and science.

In the first Christian centuries, Gnosticism had a similar appeal, claiming access to special knowledge and higher levels of existence. There are, in fact, surprising (and disconcerting) parallels between many modern cults such as Higher Source and ancient Gnosticism. Like the Gnostics, those who killed themselves in Rancho Sante Fe denigrated physical life, referring to their bodies as mere canisters or "shells." And some Gnostic-related groups practiced ritual suicide.

Contrary to what so many putative experts predicted, the scientific age hasn't eradicated religion, only recast it. For many people at least, their "religion" is an amalgam of pseudo-science, quasi-religious speculation, and mythological fantasy right out of last night's episode of "Star Trek" or "The X-Files." There are spaceships, extraterrestrial visitations, energy beings, out-of-body transference from earth to other star systems, reincarnation, and so on. Rapid social and technological change, coupled with the approaching turn-of-the-millennium, provide a recipe for science-fiction religions and extremist cults.

At Applewhite's lecture, I was stunned to see how many young people--teenagers and young adults--eagerly traipsed after these cosmic pied pipers. Among their followers were bright, educated men and women who prided themselves on their skepticism and scientific enlightenment. Many of them belittled as archaic, even dangerous, the tenets of traditional religions such as Christianity or Judaism. Yet they were ready to hop aboard Applewhite's promised spaceship for a trek to a "higher dimension."

As a Christian, I knew well the Bible's warnings about false Messiahs. What I did not realize was how attractive Applewhite's incredible message was to spiritually starved people. Nor did I see then the tenacity of those ideas now called New Age. Surprisingly, even my two highly secularized and unchurched companions who tagged along that night were attracted to Applewhite's cosmic vision of returning gods from outer space.

The allure of Higher Source and other cults may still seem perplexing, despite what they experts tell us. "How could some many intelligent, computer-savvy business people succumb to such nonsense?" people ask. G. K. Chesterton's oft-quoted observation, I think, explains the attraction of cults to today's post-Christians. Those who believe in nothing will fall for anything. Unfortunately, for Applewhite and the other members of Higher Source, their fall had deadly consequences.