The vast, shimmering canvas of a potentially infinite multiverse throws into sharp relief our deeply ingrained human impulse to condense the cosmic into manageable, perhaps even comforting, parcels of belief. We cling to singular truths, convinced that our meticulously curated doctrines offer the definitive blueprint for existence. Yet, confronted with the mind-boggling immensity of what might be, such reductive certainty begins to fray. The notion of Jesus as the sole divine manifestation on our solitary Earth, a planet adrift in a cosmos likely teeming with intelligent life, feels less like an ultimate explanation and more like a poignant, yet ultimately incomplete, story. Similarly, the confident pronouncement of Muhammad as the final prophet, when faced with an ocean of possibilities, strains credulity.
As rational beings in the 21st century, armed with the multifaceted lenses of science, psychology, sociology, and burgeoning spiritual inquiry, it is incumbent upon us to resist the urge to cram the infinite into the finite confines of our indoctrinated minds. The sheer scale of reality whispers that there is far more to apprehend than our current comprehension can encompass.
Consider, for example, the nebulous realm of spirits and spirit beings. Are angels unequivocally benevolent? Zoroastrianism paints a picture of divine emanations as inherently good. Christianity, however, posits a schism, a narrative of fallen angels, transformed into demons. Might the spectrum of spiritual existence be more akin to our own human experience, populated by beings who embody good, ill, and utter indifference? The ancient tales of the fae folk suggest a wild range of behaviors, mirroring the capricious nature often attributed to the pantheons of Greek, Roman, and Hindu deities, whose stories are rife with human-like foibles and passions. Shamanism and spiritualism paint similar pictures, informing us of the existence of tutelary spirit guides who protect their human colleagues from hostile entities.
What can we glean from these diverse narratives? On one hand, Near-Death Experience accounts often speak of heavenly realms infused with an intrinsic, all-encompassing love. Conversely, others describe infernal landscapes. Which of these perspectives holds the singular truth? Is it the Zoroastrian, the Christian, the Hindu, the Greco-Roman, the Shamanic, or the NDE testimony? Or, perhaps, are they all valid, each representing a unique facet of a grander reality? Could they be windows onto different cosmic locations, governed by distinct laws, or vibrating at different frequencies?
This expanded perspective has profound implications for our understanding of the universe itself. Might other planets, solar systems, and galaxies operate under entirely different cosmic principles? And what of the multiverse? Is it a reasonable conjecture that some galaxies, or indeed entire universes, might be profoundly different from our own, perhaps characterised by a predominance of certain energies or a scarcity of others? Who is to say that our Earth, with its intricate interplay of good and evil, represents a universal standard, or that the cosmic expanse beyond our immediate perception mirrors the celestial realms described in positive NDEs?
Alternatively, could the seemingly sparse accounts of divine intervention hint at a universe where hostile energies render it inhospitable for sustained divine or angelic presence? Perhaps their appearance is relegated to fleeting, specific episodes, their actions guided by inscrutable reasons that fit within a larger, unfathomable plan.
The literary giants Tolkien and C.S. Lewis, in their own explorations of myth and morality, recognised the potential for beings with a shared origin to diverge. In The Lord of the Rings, orcs are depicted as corrupted elves, and in Narnia, both benevolent and malevolent dwarves, tree spirits, and talking animals populate the landscape. In Narnia, good people exist alongside… less good people. The myths of the Jinn, or Genii, similarly speak of a diverse spectrum of attitudes among the inhabitants of the pre-Islamic spiritual world.
As Raynor C. Johnson so profoundly stated, “Jesus may have been God’s Word for this world, but He may have had other Words for other worlds.” This sentiment serves as a vital reminder of spiritual humility and an encouragement to maintain an open mind on matters that transcend the limits of human comprehension, even as we continue the noble endeavour to try and comprehend them. In the face of a potentially infinite multiverse, the greatest spiritual wisdom lies not in the certainty of our pronouncements, but in the courage to embrace the magnificent uncertainty of it all.
Worldwide Temple of Aurora 