Defining the New Spirituality

by George D. Chryssides (University of Wolverhampton) - A paper presented at CESNUR

14th International Conference, Riga, Latvia, August 29-31, 2000. Preliminary version --
do not reproduce without the consent of the author

In this paper I wish to return to a seemingly banal question – one which has been
discussed many times before by scholars of new religious movements (NRMs). What is a
new religious movement? Despite the fact that it has been addressed on numerous
occasions – including two attempts by the present author (Chryssides, 1994; 1999) – I am
not convinced that an adequate definition has yet been devised.

The question is an important one for a variety of reasons. First, those of us who teach
courses in NRMs need to justify our choice of subject matter, and have to set parameters so
that students are clearly aware of which movements are legitimate topics for their
researches and which lie outside the scope of their subject area. Second, it is important to
use a definition that serves as an effective rejoinder to organizations and movements who
typically question their inclusion under the umbrella ‘new religious movements’.
Sometimes this is because they do not consider themselves new: ISKCON, for example,
claims to be the world’s oldest religion, drawing from the ancient Vedas and from the
stories of Krishna’s life, which purportedly dates back to before 3,000 BCE. The Latter-day
Saints and the Jehovah’s Witnesses claim to have recovered the traditions respectively of
the Church God gave to Adam, and first century Christianity. Practitioners of Vipassana
will claim that insight meditation was taught and practised by the Buddha himself. The
Baha’i insist that they are not an NRM, but an emergent world religion.

Third, given the anti-cult movement’s (ACM’s) insistence that the term ‘new religious
movements’ is simply a euphemism for ‘cults’, NRMs can understandably feel that the
seemingly less innocuous term ‘NRM’ lumps them together with a somewhat unsavoury
group of religious or quasi-religious movements. Some time ago the author took some
students on a study weekend in London, taking in the Nipponzon Myohoji peace pagoda.
When one of the nuns discovered that the programme also included the Unification
Church, she was outraged, insisting that there was no respect in which they were ‘like the
Moonies’. Attempts to persuade her that one of the objects of the study visits was to reveal
the diversity of new forms of spirituality were of no avail. This incident highlights the need
to be able to present a clear definition of NRMs that is value-free.

It is largely the media and the anti-cult movement that have been proactive in defining the
scope of the ‘cult scene’. Groups as disparate as the Unification Church, the Church of
Scientology, est (Erhard Seminar Training), TM, Promise Keepers, neuro-linguistic
programmers, Jehovah’s Witnesses, and the Movement for the Restoration of the Ten
Commandments of God, all attract the media label ‘cultic’. Anti-cultism goes further, and
Christian anti-cult organizations have added Unitarian Universalists, Dungeons and
Dragons, some forms of alternative medicine, and, most recently, Pokémon (Reachout
Trust, 2000). Reading the annals of anti-cult literature, it can often be difficult to see any
coherence in the range of movements that are judged to fall within anti-cultism’s remit: the
concept ‘cult’ seems to merely encompass a somewhat nebulous cluster of organizations
and movements that are simply disliked.

There is no doubt considerable muddle in the anti-cultists’ selection of their targets. Some
Christian anti-cultists, I believe, have erroneously conflated the ‘Satanic’ with almost
anything they judge to be contrary to evangelical Protestantism (presumably the children’s
role-play fantasy games), causing one commentator to conclude that one in ten members
of the British population in 1995 were covert Satanists (cited in Harvey, 1995). Other
objects of criticism seem more like life skills (neuro-linguistic programming), forms of
alternative therapy (Reiki, homeopathy, acupuncture), and oracular devices (Tarot,
astrology, biorhythms). Even some sectors of the anti-cult movement seem now willing to
acknowledge a certain degree diversity amongst ‘cults’; in Britain, both the Cult
Information Centre (CIC) and FAIR (Family Action Information and Resource) now
distinguish between ‘religious cults’ and ‘therapy cults’. (The latter are sometimes also
called ‘self improvement’ or ‘counselling’ cults.) (Haworth, 1994; FAIR, 1994.)

There is certainly a distinction to be drawn between movements and organizations that

one might legitimately regard as religions, or even ‘religious’, and those movements that
simply afford ‘life tools’. However, I doubt whether the twin concepts of ‘religious cults’
and ‘therapy cults’ encompass all the subject matter which the anti-cult movement wishes
to take aboard. est, TM, Tarot, the Emin Foundation, the School of Economic Science, and
biorhythms, do not seem neatly to fall into either category. However, there is no necessity
to devise an academically sound definition that is wholly congruent with that of the ACM.
While a roughly congruent definition enables academic researchers to engage in debate
with and offer appropriate correctives to the ACM’s inaccuracies and scaremongering, I
think it is appropriate at times for scholars to declare that certain areas lie outside their
field of expertise. An adequate definition of NRMs may therefore cause us to undertake
some tidying up around the edges, removing certain movements (Pokémon and Dungeons
and Dragons, seem obvious examples) from our range of interests, and perhaps
acknowledging that other movements that have not hitherto been considered as NRMs, to
be so regarded.

Some attempted definitions

In his book Perspectives on New Religious Movements (1995), John Saliba considers three
types of definition that are characteristically offered: (1) theological; (2) psychological, and
(3) sociological.

An example of (1) – mine, not Saliba’s – comes from Christian anti-cultists McDowell and
Stewart, who proceed to offer their ‘theological’ definition:

A cult is a group of people basing their beliefs upon the world view of an isolated
leadership, which always denies the central doctrines of Christianity as taught from the
Bible. (McDowell and Stewart, 1992, p 15.)

The problems of such a definition should be plainly apparent. Its sheer scope causes it to
embrace other traditional world religions, diaspora religions, and secular organizations,
such as Marxism and humanism. Further, Jehovah’s Witnesses, Christadelphians, ‘Jesus
Only’ Pentecostalists, among many others, would claim that they affirm Christianity’s
central doctrines, as taught in the Bible, accusing the mainstream Churches of having
imported ideas such as the Trinity, and the immortality of the soul in place of the
resurrection of the body, and so on. While it is a legitimate question to ask what the Bible
really teaches on matters of doctrine, such debate must take place in a different arena.
Academics, as well as secular cult-monitoring groups, cannot possibly operate with a
definition that presupposes specific religious doctrines and declares that they are firmly
embedded in Christianity.

Psychological definitions relate to the alleged psychological hold that NRM leaders or their
organizations have on enquirers and members. Saliba quotes Philip Cushman, who defines
the characteristics of a ‘cult’ as follows. [It]

is controlled by a charismatic leader who is thought to be God or some one who carries an
exclusive message from God that elevates him or her above others;

fosters the idea that there is only one correct belief and only one correct practice of that
belief;

demands unquestionable loyalty and complete obedience to its restrictive ideas, rules, and
totalistic methods;

uses methods of mind control;

uses deception and deceit when recruiting and interacting with the outside world;

systematically exploits a member’s labor and finances; attacks and/or abandons members
who disagree with or leave the group. (in Saliba, 1995, p.5.)

Such definitions of course assume, contentiously, that the ‘cults’ are indeed guilty of
brainwashing and psychological manipulation. Suffice it to say that such claims run
counter to the finds of most academic research: only a small handful of psychologists and
psychiatrists (for example Singer and Lifton) support a mind control theory. The ‘marks of
the cult’ approach which such definitions presuppose, takes little, if any, account of the fact
that new religions change through time. In recent times we have witnessed the deaths of a
number of NRM leaders: Prabhupada in 1977, Osho (Rajneesh) in 1985, L. Ron Hubbard in
1986, and Moses Berg in 1994. In any case, as new religions expand, new enquirers are
unlikely to meet the leader, who has usually become inaccessible, although they will no
doubt hear the group speak of him or her with great approval. One possible theory about
charismatic leaders is that, as a movement grows, the charisma that pertains to the leader
becomes gradually transferred to his or her followers. It is doubtful whether charisma can
be attributed to a supposedly ‘charismatic’ leader unequivocally: charisma must depend as
much on the leader’s following as on the leader. (It would make sense to say that I had
charisma, but that no one recognized it!) It may be more helpful therefore, as Weber did,
to speak of the ‘routinization of charisma’ and to acknowledge that ‘group charisma’ is a
greater factor in maintaining a leader’s kudos than any ‘personal magnetism’, if such a
thing exists.

I have discussed sociological definitions at some length in Exploring New Religions. Such
definitions essentially depend on the typologies developed by Weber, Becker Troeltsch and
Yinger, of church, denomination, sect and cult. Part of the difficulty of this typology is
devising an agreed definition of ‘cult’, which can be variously understood as a loosely
defined group, a group which emphasizes mystical experience (Troeltsch’s ‘mystical’,
which contrasted with ‘sect’) or a group which is further removed from dominant religion
and culture than the established sect (as with Yinger). A further, more serious, difficulty
lies in the fact that different NRMs have different degrees of organization and cohesion,
ranging from the Unification Church and the Church of Scientology, whose chain of
command is clear and whose practices are prescribed with exactness, to channellers, whose
practices vary, and may lack institutional organization.

In what follows, I hope to develop a way of understanding the concept ‘NRM’. To make an
obvious point, the term comprises three obvious components (‘N’, ‘R’ and ‘M’). As far as
newness is concerned, the bulk of recent literature defines ‘new’ variously as post-World
War Two (Clarke, 1987), post-1950s (Barker, 1989), 1960s and 1970s (Melton and Moore,
1982; Beckford, 1985; Nelson, 1987). These time frames are problematic for several
reasons. If they relate to the inception of the organizations, relatively few have come into
being after the Second World War. The Unification Church and the Church of Scientology
would be included if a 1950s cut-off point were adopted, but Vipassana (‘discovered’ in
1914), Krishnamurti (who established his own independent identity as a spiritual leader in
1929), the Soka Gakkai (founded 1930), Brahma Kumaris (1938), and The Way
International (1942) would be well out of range. It is also inappropriate to use the date of a
religion’s arrival in the west as a definitional criterion. Not only is it the case that several
NRMs (like Yogananda’s Self-Realization Fellowship) came to the west in the pre-war
period; it is also true that the major world religions (apart from Christianity) arrived
substantially in Europe during the post-war period. Reference to the west is also
inappropriate since NRMs are a global phenomenon, and not merely something that
affects westerners. The recent Movement for the Restoration of the Ten Commandments of
God received coverage in media and anti-cult circles, and has been plainly designated a
‘cult’, despite the fact that it never attempted to penetrate the west, and appears to have
attracted no western converts whatsoever.

For these reasons, then, in common with Robert S Ellwood and Harry B Partin, I prefer a
more liberal 150-year rule (approximately), which enables the inclusion – with a bit of
licence – of Jehovah’s Witnesses, Latter-day Saints, Christadelphians, Christian Science,
and Theosophy, although not Swedenborgians or Quakers. (One colleague recently
suggested a 200-year time frame, which would justify their inclusion.) This compass would
enable the compass of legitimate academic enquiry to be identical with that of the anti-cult
movement and the media.

Also important to one’s definition is the non-recognition of such groups by a related

mainstream religion (if one exists). In the case of Witnesses, LDS, Christadelphians,
Unificationists (among others) their claimed Christian identity is disputed. Either the
NRM dissociates itself from the mainstream, as in the case of Mormons and JWs, who
insist that mainstream Christianity became corrupted at an early stage, and that their
organizations remain the sole true expressions of the faith. Alternatively the NRM may see
itself as part of the mainstream religion, but find itself rejected or even expelled – as in the
case of the Unification Church.

A few organizations or movements fall within this definition of ‘new’, but nonetheless tend
to be excluded by the various interest groups. Unitarian Universalists might be one case in
point, having been established through the merger of Unitarians and Universalists in the
USA and Canada in 1961. Another example is Pentecostalism: there no real evidence that
its followers are reviving an ancient practice that took its rise at the Pentecost following
Jesus’ death and presumed resurrection; indeed it took several decades for Christians who
were so inclined to make the connection between these exuberant utterances and the early
Pentecost experience, talking instead about ‘fire baptism’ or ‘baptism of the Spirit’.
Although it is possible to suggest reasons for their exclusion – Unitarianism and
Universalism each have a much longer history, and Pentecostalism retains a belief in
mainstream Christian doctrine – it may be a salutary exercise for scholars of the new
religions to consider whether the edges of their subject-matter need some re-definition.

What is religion?

Something needs to be said about the (real or supposed) religious nature of those
organizations and movements that have come to be labelled as NRMs. A common criticism
of some NRMs is that they are ‘pseudo-religions’, more accurately businesses or political
organizations, simply masquerading as religions in order to enjoy privileges such as tax
exemption and religious freedom. Cynics will insist that an organization’s decision to claim
or disclaim a religious identity depends on expediency: thus, it is sometimes alleged that
Scientologists claim a religious identity to gain taxation benefits and other religious
freedom privileges, while one of TM’s aims was to secure the practice of its techniques in
American schools, which they certainly could not have done if they were regarded as a
religion.

There must be something plausibly religious about a movement or organization for it to

count as a religion and hence an NRM. One possible suggestion is that religion demands
exclusive allegiance: this would  ipso facto exclude Scientology, TM and the Soka Gakkai
simply on the grounds that they claim compatibility with whatever other religion the
practitioner has been following. Certainly, evangelical Protestantism may be particularly
unhappy with such divided loyalties, holding in common with the semitic religions the
notion of the ‘jealous god’ who demands exclusive allegiance. Eastern religions do not
operate in such an all-embracing way, but allow seekers to use whichever religion offers
the particular facility that they need at any particular time. It is normal in Korea, to cite but
one example, for individuals to combine Confucianism, Buddhism and shamanism
according to their various purposes.

The definition of ‘religion’ remains contested amongst scholars. Historically, a divide has
existed between those who opted for a ‘supernaturalist’ definition, and others, like Yinger,
have gone for a ‘functional’ one. Others identify a number of salient features associated
with religion, for example Ninian Smart, who distinguishes at least six ‘dimensions’ which
he believes are characteristic of religion: the experiential, the mythical, the doctrinal, the
ethical, the ritual, and the social/institutional. It would not be realistic to try to resolve the
question of defining religion here, but it may be sufficient to suggest that there are certain
minimal expectations of an organization, movement, ideology or worldview for it
appropriately to be judged religious. In particular, one might suggest that a  bona
fide religion must offer at least one, and possibly more of the following:

(1) Answers to life’s ultimate and fundamental questions, such as ‘Why I am here?’, ‘What
happens after I die?’, ‘Is there a God or supernatural force that created and sustains the
universe?’

(2) Rites of passage for marking key events in one’s life, in the context of the above
answers.

(3) Techniques and strategies for coping with life. This must mean life as a whole, and not
simply parts of life, such as personal efficiency, or ability to succeed in one’s work.
(4) Some kind of guide to life in the form of a code of ethics. (This may be formally set out,
as in the Jewish-Christian Ten Commandments, or the Buddhist precepts, or it may be
implicit.)

I believe that these elements help to sort out what is genuinely a religion and what is not.
For example, TM is simply – as they state – a technique. Although it enables one to cope
with life, it offers no goal beyond human existence (such as moksha), nor does it offer rites
or passage or an ethic. Unlike certain other Hindu-derived movements, TM does not
prescribe a  dharma  to its followers – that is to say a set of spiritual obligations deriving
from one’s essential nature.  [1]  By contrast, Scientology has a cosmology, offers
explanations about life before and after our present one, affords an ethic, and has its own
rites and ceremonies. The so-called ‘self religions’, sometimes called ‘therapy cults’ and at
other times the ‘human potential movement’, have some features associated with religion.
It was typical of  est not simply to promote its seminars as means of improving personal
efficiency; Werner Erhard’s message was that it was the participants’ entire lives that
‘simply did not work’, and the aim was ‘personal transformation’. Admittedly, the human
potential religions have tended to lack rites of passage, although one erstwhile Exegesis
participant suggested to me that this was because it was young and short-lived, and that it
would have been a subsequent development, had it continued.

One further point is worth noting about the concept of religion. The fact that an
organization either embraces or rejects being categorized as a religion does not mean that
scholars have to follow suit. ‘Religion’ can be either an ‘emic’ or an ‘etic’ concept, and once
a scholar has adopted a working definition of religion, it is still possible that an
organization rejects the category from within, although it satisfies etic scholarly criteria.
The reverse is also true: an organization might claim to be religious, but fail to satisfy
criteria imposed by academic study.

What is a movement?

Having made some suggestions about defining religion, it should be apparent that certain
organizations and movements that are typically included under the label ‘NRM’ are not
strictly religions at all, but are either interest groups within a religious denomination, or
forms of spirituality whose follows reject the formal organization that is normally
associated with religion. Indeed the term ‘religious movement’ itself is somewhat of an
oxymoron: movements are loose, often exploratory and innovative, and tend to lack clearly
defined formal members; religions and religious organizations, by contrast, are well
organized and more often than not, have fairly clear rules defining who belong and who do
not. Thus, while the Soka Gakkai, The Family, and the Unification Church are plainly new
religions, there exists a plethora of spiritual movements and organizations that cannot
genuinely be regarded as religions in their own right.

The New Age Movement is one such example. It is nebulous, with little formal organization
or membership, and its followers often explicitly reject organized religion, particularly
traditional Christianity. Other movements that are often included within the category
‘NRM’ have a membership that exclusively belongs to a parent religious tradition, for
example Opus Dei, the Neo-Catechumenate, the Focolare and Promise Keepers, none of
which are independent religions, but rather seek to reinforce the traditional values of
either Roman Catholicism or conservative evangelical Protestantism. They offer no new
ethic, no additional rites, with the possible exception of Opus Dei’s penitential practices.
Are these legitimate subjects for inclusion in the study of NRMs? Certainly, their rise,
development, teachings and practices are all of interest both to sociologists and religious
studies scholars. However, by no means every recently formed religious organization or
movement merits serious academic attention by scholars of NRMs, or attracts the ACM’s
attention. Cases in point might be the Christian Motorcyclists’ Association, and Christian
CND (Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament), both of which are in a sense new religious
movements, but yet are plainly different in character from the other movements and
organizations mentioned above. To qualify as an NRM, the group presumably must offer
something distinctively religious, not simply an ancillary hobby, such as motorcycling, or a
political agenda.

The above examples make it evident that there is no straightforward way of defining which
organizations and spiritual movements fall within the category ‘NRM’ and which do not. A
substantial contributory factor to the problem lies in the sheer diversity, not only of the
groups themselves, but also of the types of group that are taken aboard for comment by
academics, anti-cultists and the media alike. If an adequate definition of this area of study
is to be devised, it is therefore necessary to propose a typology of different types of
religious and spiritual groups. What follows is very much an exploratory attempt at
devising such a set of categories.

(1) There are spiritual groups that can unproblematically be designated as ‘new religions’
or ‘new religious organizations’. They fall within the 150-year time frame stipulated above,
are outside the mainstream, and possess the degree of organization and development that
is characteristic of a formal religious group. Examples are the Unification Church, The
Family, the Jesus Army, the Soka Gakkai and the Church of Scientology.

(2) There are ‘spiritual movements’, which lack the formal organization that is
characteristic of religion, and whose followers are typically more inclined to talk about
spirituality than religion, and may even claim to reject organized religion. Examples are
the New Age Movement, ‘goddess spirituality’, and possibly wicca and paganism.

(3) There are innovative and reformist groups within existing organized religions, such as
Opus Dei. Obviously, most large religious denominations proliferate a variety of interest
groups: women’s leagues, youth organizations, liturgical or musical groups. Such groups
would not normally fall within the aegis of the study of new religions: although at times
such groups may be innovative, they do not normally challenge the conventions of the
mainstream religion or denomination from which they emanate. By contrast, a movement
that challenges the status quo, such as the Toronto Blessing, represents more than natural
organic development within Christianity, but presents a challenge to conventional, more
formal ways of worshipping, and hence comes to be regarded with suspicion or even
hostility by many mainstream Christians.

(4) There exists a range of interests that are typically associated with spirituality: healing,
meditation, visualization and practices that are often labelled ‘occultist’, such as Tarot,
kabbalah, and possibly channelling. Although it would be inappropriate to categorize, say,
Reiki as a new religion, it is at least an interesting religious phenomenon, and certainly
worthy of serious academic study.

(5) Finally there are organizations and movements that offer specific techniques or
services, many of which are broadly classified under the umbrella term ‘human potential
movement’: biofeedback, biorhythms, neuro-linguistic programming (NLP), and
techniques for activities such telephoning selling (Exegesis, now Programmes Ltd). While
it is extremely doubtful whether these phenomena are examples of religions, followers
often claim that the techniques or results have an important spiritual dimension. Whether
such phenomena should be of interest to the student of religion is a matter in need of
important debate; however, it can certainly be agreed that they constitute at least a part of
the sociologist’s subject matter, if not that of the religious studies scholar.

These five categories are not rigid. Thus, visualization is a practice of a specific religious
organization, such as the Western Buddhist Order and hence an aspect of (1); it is an
interest within sectors the New Age Movement; or it can be a practice aimed at securing
specific pragmatic benefits, such as increased self confidence, greater wealth, or whatever.
The existence of overlapping categories is not necessary a weakness, but rather reflects the
complexity and multi-faceted nature of new forms of spirituality.

Given such diversity and complexity, the time may now have arrived for scholars to
question whether the single category ‘new religious movement’ adequately encapsulates
the subject matter that is usually reckoned to fall within its boundaries. Perhaps some new
term is needed, such as ‘new spiritual organizations and movements’, which will provide a
clearer signal regarding phenomena that deserve attention in this area. Unfortunately the
term ‘NRM’ has become so thoroughly familiar that such a change is difficult, but is it too
late to admit that it is a term that is not wholly congruent with this area of academic study?

Notes

1. [back] or this point I am indebted to my colleague Ron Geaves.

Bibliography

Barker, Eileen (1989).  New Religious Movements: A Practical Introduction. London:

HMSO.

Becker, Howard (1932).  Systematic Sociology on the Basis of the Beziehungslehre and
Gebildelehre of Leopold von Wiese. New York: Wiley.

Beckford, J.A. (1985). Cult Controversies. London: Tavistock.

Chryssides, G.D. (1994). ‘New Religious Movements – Some

Problems of Definition’. Diskus, Vol 2, no 2.
Chryssides, G.D. (1999). Exploring New Religions. London: Cassell.

Clarke, Peter (ed) (1987). The New Evangelists. London: Ethnographica.

Ellwood, Robert S. and Harry B Partin (1988). Religious and Spiritual Groups in Modern
America. 2 ed. Englewood Cliffs: Prentice Hall.

FAIR (1994). ‘What is a cult? A 10 point guide.’ FAIR News, October, p.5.

Harvey, Graham (1995). ‘Satanism in Britain Today’.  Journal of Contemporary
Religion. vol.10, no.3, pp 283-296.

Haworth, Ian (1994). ‘Cult Concerns: An Overview of Cults and their Methods in the
UK.’ Assignation, vol 11, no 4, July, pp.31-34.

Lifton, R.J. Thought Reform and the Psychology of Totalism: A Study of Brainwashing in

China. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1989.

McDowell, Josh and Stewart (1992), Don. The Deceivers: What Cults Believe; How They
Lure Followers. Amersham: Scripture Press.

Melton, J Gordon and Robert L Moore (1982).  The Cult Experience: Responding to the
New Religious Pluralism. New York: Pilgrim Press.

Nelson, Geoffrey K. (1987).  Cults, New Religions and Religious Creativity. London:
Routledge and Kegan Paul.

Reachout Trust. ‘Pokemons’. Reachout Quarterly, issue 60, Summer 2000, pp 2, 14.

Saliba, John (1995).  Perspectives on New Religious Movements. London: Geoffrey

Chapman.

Singer, M.T. (1995). Cults In Our Midst: The Hidden Menace In Our Everyday Lives.San
Francisco: Jossey-Bass.

Smart, Ninian (1995).  Worldviews: Crosscultural Explorations of Human Beliefs. 2 ed.

Englewood Cliffs: Prentice Hall.

Troeltsch, E. (1931). The Social Teachings of the Christian Church. London: Macmillan.

Weber, Max (1922, 1965). The Sociology of Religion. London: Methuen.

Yinger, J.M. (1970). The Scientific Study of Religion. London, Collier-Macmillan.