The Meaning of Life Revealed! Many Lives, Many Masters, by Brian Weiss, M.D.

Many Lives, Many Masters
Brian Weiss, M.D.

As I have said before, I want to believe. Such desire should quickly lead one down faith’s path, but it has had the opposite effect on me. My need to believe makes me more skeptical than ever, and I am wary of believing foolishly or dogmatically.

Life of Pi said that even atheism is better than agnosticism; the hazy non-belief of the agnostic is a sort of indecisiveness, I know, and indecisiveness is one of my flaws. And yet, I can no more not believe than believe. So I read on. Maybe one day, I’ll find something that clicks.

Enter Many Lives, Many Masters, a book which supports many beliefs I would have if I could commit to them. I feel many of its “tenets” to be true, but I stubbornly resist them. Why? Let’s see, shall we?

In the book’s favor, the author is a pretty educated guy. He graduated magna cum laude from Columbia and attended the Yale University School of Medicine. He has worked at several prestigious schools and is well published in his field of psychiatry. So he should have a good idea of what he’s talking about, right? Right?

Many Lives, Many Masters chronicles Dr. Weiss’s work with one patient, Catherine. This troubled woman came to him with many phobias and neuroses. After working with her as he would normally, he decided to try hypnosis to rid her of her deep-seated problems. Upon regression, he realized he was dealing with something far greater than the issues of a troubled woman—he was dealing with her past lives. (He knew schizophrenia or other illness was not at work here.) So their treatment continued for months, and Weiss got to hear about many of her lives. He also spoke through her, to the “masters,” or spirits who guide us from the other side.

Through the course of his therapy, Weiss learned that reincarnation is a fact, as is the immortality of the soul. The purpose of life is to learn, grow, and evolve. During life, we are supposed to solve certain issues. Either we do or don’t—but if we don’t, we carry those unsolved issues into our next life in addition to the new ones we must solve. We choose when we are born and when and how we die. All life is a classroom, every time. The ultimate goal is to perfect ourselves so that reincarnating is no longer necessary.

The purpose of this book is ostensibly to inform the public, so that we might lose our fear of death and make better decisions as we navigate our lives. But I’m troubled by—and this prevents me from believing more in his ideas—seeing how many books the author has published on this subject. You can even get your own cd to help you regress into your past lives! It just seems to me that if the doctor is in earnest, he wouldn’t be capitalizing so much on this profound truth. (Visit his website to see more.) But I’m probably just being judgmental. That’s another of my flaws.

At any rate, the premise of Many Lives, Many Masters seems true to me, that the purpose of life is to learn and love. But it just seems too easy. The “void” – the nothingness of death -- seems rationally correct, if ultimately disheartening. So this got me thinking: presuming (although this is unlikely) that I am able to intuit what to improve during my lifetime, what do I need to work on? Here’s the results of a quick brainstorming session:

I need to learn patience. I need to learn acceptance. I need to learn faith. I need to learn self-discipline. I need to give of myself. I need to not hold myself back. I need to be more social. I need to -- Jesus. I’m going to come back as a slug, aren’t I? Aren’t I????

Bibliolatrist in 100 years

In a nutshell: Comforting, although not entirely believable. Or maybe I want to believe too much. At any rate, it reminds you of what is important in life and directs you to live better.

Bibliolatry Scale: 2 (for style of writing) + 6 (for the potential it has to positively affect your life) = 4 out of 6 stars

Hostage to the Devil, by Malachi Martin

Hostage to the Devil
Malachi Martin

Now THIS is what I'm talking about. This book scared me so badly that I had to stop reading it--in order to pray. I said prayers I haven't said in years.

In fact, this weekend, I was struck down by a plague-like affliction (ok, it was a respiratory virus that has been making the rounds at my school) and some where, in the middle of a fever-ravaged night, I kept waking, swearing the devil was trying to possess me. Blinded by fear (and fever...and NyQuil), I prayed again and again as I fell back to sleep. If I remember correctly, I prayed IN my sleep.

Now that's a damn good book.

Of course, here sit I, blithely recalling those fearful moments in order to mock them for my stupid book blog. So Hostage to the Devil apparently didn't make that deep of a connection...or did it? Let's see.

Malachi Martin is another of those Vatican-types who has written a book on exorcism. However, unlike his peer Gabriele Amorth, Martin really gives you the nitty-gritty. He details what happens to the exorcist, explaining the assault that takes him over: for example, his senses become confused, he hears colors, he tastes sights, he smells sounds, etc. He is subject to the most awful revelations of personal sins and mistakes. Sometimes, he may even be physically wounded, as in the case of one exorcist who found his nether regions torn and cut and needing many stitches.

Martin outlines a brief overview of exorcism, then details five accounts. He tells every side of the story, having meticulously compiled his research from interviews, diaries and journals, witnesses, and the like. He begins in the midst of the exorcism only to pull back and explain the history of both the possessed and the exorcist alike.

I found it interesting that in all cases, the possessed is aware of an intruding presence before giving himself (or herself) over to it. Almost every case of possession occurs with this acceptance. So that made me feel better. No devil will be sneaking up on me, no sir!

Unfortunately, at the end of the book I was bewildered to find, as an appendix, the Roman Catholic Church's Rite of Exorcism. In full. Now, according to both these books, only a qualified exorcist can ever hope to effectively perform this rite. For anyone else to do so would cause horrific disaster. If that is true, I can't help but wonder: why publish it here? Surely the world is peopled with enough morons not to invite such temptation. If it's as serious as they say, you'd think they'd want to keep a lid on it.

And then I had to ruin all this belief by Googling Malachi Martin (for the pics, natch), thus bringing me to his Wikipedia entry. Apparently he has a reputation for being less-than-trustworthy. Does that discredit Hostage to the Devil? God, I hope not. It's just too damn good.

But, if even an eighth of this book is true...that's enough for me. So am I converted? Now a believer?

Not necessarily. But, as they say, forewarned is forearmed (or something like that) and a heightened awareness never hurt anyone. So now I'll be watching, all you devil-worshippers (which both authors stress are appearing in greater numbers than ever before. Really? Cause that's just lame. Even Marilyn Manson hopped off that train, or so I thought).

Bibliolatry Scale: 5 out of 6 stars (but very disturbing, so watch out)

An Exorcist Tells His Story, by Gabriele Amorth

An Exorcist Tells His Story
Gabriele Amorth

Like the Mulder of old, I too want to believe. Also like Mulder, my desire includes not only extraterrestrials, but all forms of the supernatural. Ultimately I'm looking for a reason to believe in God, as the lapsed Catholic in me is not able to believe on faith alone. Again, like my fictional, alien-hunting kindred spirit, I need some proof.

Not too long ago, I saw The Exorcism of Emily Rose, which was apparently "based on a true story." Yeah, I immediately thought. So was The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, and we all know how that went. (If you don't, the real "massacre" didn't occur in Texas, didn't, so far as I know, include a chainsaw, and didn't feature a deformed freak. So, yeah, based on a true story indeed.)

I immediately wondered how "true" The Exorcism of Emily Rose was. My search led me to Amazon.com, where I would commence my research with a healthy dose of shopping. I found that apparently the movie is based on a true story called The Exorcism of Anneliese Michel. The book didn't sound as interesting as I'd hoped, but it did lead me to An Exorcist Tells His Story.

Gabriele Amorth is, to quote the back cover, "the renowned chief exorcist of Rome." So I expected a few interesting anecdotes. Basically, I just wanted to know if the devil is real. Cause that would help me out some. Now, I'm sure you're thinking, OF COURSE the devil is real. And I believe evil is real, but The Devil? The medieval, horned, cloven-footed fallen angel guy? Sometimes I'm not so sure. Well, An Exorcist Tells His Story had me starting to believe...and then it got all...well...medieval on me.

First, Amorth delivers a long lecture on the history of Satan, quoting the Bible and providing all these references to back up the fact that this stuff happens. So it's more theoretical than "here, listen to this cool story about the time I kicked that demon's ass" sorta stuff. When I remembered that I get to read about 60 research papers a year, I was especially annoyed at purchasing another one.

Even worse is that (not surprisingly) it gets all preachy, talking about how our modern society is uber-Satanic. And he had me at first: I admit, in a world where Paris Hilton makes the news more often than the war in Iraq, I'm willing to admit the presence of the devil. My skepticism grew, however, when he started discussing other dangerous elements of our modern society. Namely...

YOGA.

REALLY, DUDE? Yoga is SATANIC? For real? Come on. Have you ever done it? It's a hell of a workout. (Did you see how I slipped a joke in there?) Anyway, it wasn't at all dark and evil-like. (I could insert another lame pun about the "burn" it gave my muscles, but this review is already too long and I have a headache.)

So basically I was starting to get into it, but then he had to get all theoretical and research-paper like, and then say that yoga is Satanic, which just made him seem all out-of-touch and annoying. Give me a break. Thankfully my current read (also by a Vatican-type person) is WAY better. It's full of anecdotes that really put the fear of God in ya. Which is, of course, what I'm looking for.

Bibliolatry Scale: 2 out of 6 stars

Meditations, by Marcus Aurelius

Meditations
Marcus Aurelius

This might be deemed a rather traditional pick, but I’m surprised to find myself liking Meditations so much.

First, however, I have an interesting anecdote related to my reading this book. About eight years ago, I worked in a prominent Philadelphia law firm. I hated it. The people were creeps, for the most part. Well, everyone knew that I was only working there while on break from college, and that I wasn’t *really* interested in becoming a lawyer. There was one guy there, a secretary (which is odd in itself; not that there’s anything wrong with being a male secretary, except for the fact that he was the only one). Aside from being practically the only male secretary (in a firm which boasted about several hundred permanent and floating secretaries), he was just an odd dude. He had a penetrating stare that seemed to bore into a person, and yet he rarely spoke to others. When he did, his conversation was stilted and awkward. Well, anyway, once this guy confronted me in an elevator. I worked on about the fiftieth floor, so we were in the elevator for a bit, and escape was, unfortunately for me, impossible.

“I hear you’re an English major,” he said.

“Um...yeah, I am.”

“Have you read Meditations?”

“Um…no. Who wrote it?”

“Marcus Aurelius. It’s excellent. I will bring it in for you to borrow.”

The next day, here comes Mr. Weird, with his prized book. Who lends a book to someone he hardly knows? Not I. I don’t like lending books to my own mother, much less a twenty-year-old stranger. It’s even more bizarre when you consider that this, according to him, was one of the most influential books he’s ever read. You wouldn’t pry that book from my cold dead hand. What can I say, I’m protective of my books.

Anyway, that summer, I was busy partying, like every other summer before I turned 21 and became bored with such doings. I had no time for Marcus Aurelius or anyone else, for that matter. But a few weeks later, he stops by my desk.

“Have you read it? What do you think?”

“Actually, no…I haven’t had a chance to read it yet. I’ve been so unbelievably busy. [A blatant lie.] I will bring it in for you tomorrow since I am taking so long with it.”

And then, unbelievably, he says, “No. Give it back when you’ve finished it.” And, with those words, he walked away.

I never saw him again. I returned to college, graduated, and got a real job, one that did not involve lawyers. [If you are a lawyer, I’m sorry. But it is more than likely that you are a pain in the ass to work for.]

I graduated college in May 2000, and I’ve finally found time to fit Marcus into my life. Of course, I still have this poor guy’s book, and now I’m mocking him on my stupid blog. I can respect his generosity, although I can admit that I would not be so generous myself. And I thank him, really I do, because Meditations is really damn good.

As the translator notes in his introduction, this book is an excellent bedside book, because you can just pick it up, read a short selection from anywhere in the book, and put it down again. The book basically consists of his thoughts (ahem, meditations) on life. Sometimes he writes his advice on how to lead a good life; other times, he writes his thoughts on death and other important topics. Each nugget is short—a paragraph at most—and these paragraphs are compiled into 12 books, or chapters.

While I don’t find every thing he says to be relevant to my life, he does make many points that I find myself going back to underline so that I might remember them. To wit:

1. To wonder what so-and-so is doing and why, or what he is saying, or thinking, or scheming—in a word, anything that distracts you from fidelity to the Ruler within you—means a loss of opportunity for some other task. (Book 3)


2. That men of a certain type should behave as they do is inevitable. To wish it otherwise were to wish the fig-tree would not yield its juice. In any case, remember that in a very little while both you and he will be dead, and your very names will quickly be forgotten. (Book 4)


3. Nothing can happen to any man that nature has not fitted him to endure. (Book 5)

In a nutshell: I cannot imagine that anyone would read this book and not find it helpful in some way. There is something for everyone here. His wisdom is timeless, and he makes many points which we would do well to remember more often.

Bibliolatry scale: 6 out of 6