Pop-spirituality fails to inspire

CYNTHIA RAMSAY

Disappointed expectations sums up the feeling left by the latest religion-based self-help books reviewed by the Independent.

Perhaps because of the build up – the back cover promises readers that Rabbi Niles Goldstein will "help us get beyond our own perceived limitations and face life's challenges with fearlessness and fortitude" – Goldstein's most recent book, The Challenge of the Soul: A Guide for the Spiritual Warrior (Trumpeter, 2009), was the biggest letdown.

From reading his book, one gets a sense that Goldstein is a really nice guy and could be helpful as a spiritual guide in person. He has a nonjudgmental approach and an impressive resumé, which includes being a congregational rabbi, martial artist and FBI chaplain. He has had his share of adversity and admits mistakes; he writes about his personal experiences and seems genuine. He also quotes Artistotle, Hobbes, Maimonides and many other philosophers, as well as the Bible, of course, and other religious teachings, so there is much to be learned in The Challenge of the Soul. But there is something ultimately unsatisfying about the path to self-empowerment being summarized in eight principles that are so open-ended to be of little use, and which certainly don't contain novel ideas.

According to Goldstein – and, frankly, most self-help writers – what we need to reach "self-empowerment and, ultimately, self-transcendence ... the inner redemption that so many of us in this disturbing time so desperately crave" is to be open, introspective, disciplined, courageous and creative, and to have stamina, restraint and perseverance. But how does a person become more open, for example? It's great to know that, if we open ourselves to receiving mystical experience and "inculcate these mindsets and attitudes within ourselves, we will gain freedom, power and the confidence to confront new situations and challenges, however daunting they may seem," but do anecdotes about how other people have shown more vulnerability really help much? Do they help us know how to conquer our own fears?

While Goldstein often mentions the "hard work" self-improvement takes, The Challenge of the Soul doesn't delve into that work. It may inspire some people to start the journey, but it won't provide much guidance for the trip itself.

The same can be said for another rabbi's book. Rabbi Sherre Hirsch offers readers of We Plan, God Laughs: What to Do When Life Hits You Over the Head (Doubleday, 2008) a 10-step path to becoming who they want to be. The title of her book comes from a Yiddish proverb, "We plan, God laughs," which Hirsch says she initially thought meant that God was laughing at human beings and our foibles. She has come to understand the phrase as meaning that God is laughing with us, in joy at His "extraordinary creation."

As the title implies, our lives often do not turn out like we planned but, with Hirsch's help, we can supposedly walk a path that is more alive and in tune with God. Through personal and other anecdotes – some of which are actually moving – she assures us that we can love our lives and laugh with God, if we follow her advice. In a nutshell, the process starts with us examining our past and figuring out how we got to where we are today, after which we must stop making excuses for our unhappiness and start working to find and celebrate the divine within us. As with Goldstein's book, even if Hirsch manages to motivate some people to finally take stock of their lives and consider making changes in their attitudes and behaviors, once that course of action has been decided, readers will have to look elsewhere for guidance.

An additional weakness of both Hirsch's and Goldstein's books is that, if one doesn't believe in an anthropomorphic God, their calls to action may fall upon deaf ears. While both rabbis briefly consider the possibility of more abstract concepts of the divine, they fall short in their examination of these ideas.

Rabbi Daniel A. Weiner's Good God: Faith for the Rest of Us (Classic Day Publishing, 2009) promises a reprieve from the simplistic approaches to religion and spirituality and is more intellectual fare than most such books, but it, too, relies too heavily on the version of God as a virtually tangible entity. As with Goldstein and Hirsch, Weiner allows for, and encourages, other notions of the divine, but most of his argument on behalf of faith is based on Bible stories.

The first chapter of Good God is an intriguing essay on faith in the United States. Weiner argues that disillusionment with "the kind of 'corporate' religious structure that seems hopelessly addicted to and led astray by power" has led to a "clumsy generalization of all organized religion into a contemptible Big Sancta, and the condemnation of the whole for the abuses of a few, threatens to obscure the good that emerges from religious ideals." In making his case, he focuses on modern times and the religious right in the States, which lessens the argument's effectiveness, but not its interest.

In the next section of the book, Weiner changes tone somewhat and presents a "a course for a challenging moment in our history." His system has two foundations, which he calls the Spirit at the Centre of Being and the Spirit at the Centre of Ideology. The first has two components: awareness of a higher power, however one chooses to envision their daily interactions with the infinite; and the idea of a convenant, accepting an accountability to "meet the expectations of a greater power toward the achieving of a greater goal, a greater good." The ideological spirit is briefly explained as that which "enables us to focus on the challenges of the world towards achieving not what is merely in our best interest, but what is in God's best interest for the world." Weiner stresses that this should compel people to move closer to God's side, "not drag God to our side."

In the final part of Good God, Weiner takes a motto from the commercial world he derides in other parts of the book: Nike's "Just do it." He explains that, in Judaism, "It's not enough to feel faith and think deeply. We must act definitely." Weiner talks about fundamentalism being "insecurity driven by fear." We have two choices: follow the path of fear or use crisis constructively, which "requires a radical rebuilding of the self, emerging from a breaking down of something within us."

It shouldn't be a surprise that, while self-help writers like Goldstein, Hirsch and Weinstein put forward some great – even possibly motivating – ideas, they don't offer much concrete advice. Personal growth is, well, very personal and though generalizations may help us feel less alone, they can't make the transformational journey for us. That can only happen when we put the books down and start looking within ourselves.

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