Perennialism and the afterlife

I’ve been thinking a lot about death in recent years. Maybe it’s because my parents are getting older or maybe it’s because I’m approaching middle age. But mortality has been on my mind quite a bit. I know it’s not healthy. Alleviating that worry has been a significant factor behind my interest in spirituality.

Neither of my parents talked much about religion. My father was raised Catholic and, as far as I know, is now an agnostic or an atheist. My mother was raised Episcopalian and is now an unorthodox Christian. She attends services with the United Church of Christ, yet her favorite spiritual writer is the Hindu Eknath Easwaran.

I don’t really have a clear tradition to draw on when thinking about the afterlife. My mother will sometimes talk about loved ones looking down on us from heaven, but that’s about it. I’m not complaining. If my parents had been the kind to impose a rigid theology on me, I wouldn’t be the activist I am today.

I’ve taken to calling myself a perennialist, because I think that’s the view my mother and Easwaran share. For those who don’t know, perennialism is the belief all great religions, perhaps all great secular ethical systems, are describing the same ultimate truth, merely using different language. As a result, its claims can appear modest.

It was a perennialist approach to thinking about God which allowed me to consider religion more seriously in the first place. Increasingly, I believe this approach might be a helpful model for me in thinking about the afterlife. At least, it could help provide a solid foundation on which I can build more later.

Let me explain. A perennialist would argue we describe God using culturally-specific metaphors. For instance, God is not really an old man in the sky. That’s just one way we communicate an idea beyond our understanding. It might serve a practical purpose to some extent, but, in the end, it’s a metaphor.

That said, God isn’t metaphorical for perennialists. In a universe filled with so much apparent evil, where all seems subject to change and death, God, whatever we might call it, is what is good and eternal in everyone and everything. In the broad sense, God is self-evident and very real.

Similarly, a perennialist would acknowledge we discuss the afterlife using culturally-specific metaphors. For instance, the afterlife is not really a place in the clouds filled with angels playing harps. That’s how certain people in certain eras have imagined our eventual union with God. It’s a metaphor.

On the other hand, the afterlife isn’t metaphorical for perennialists. When we work to mold ourselves in the image of God — or, to put it another way, struggle to identify with what is good and eternal in all of us — some aspect of ourselves genuinely never dies. In the broad sense, the afterlife is quite literal.

So that’s the perennialist foundation I’m starting with. While I’ve had less exposure to Christianity than my mom has, I’m still culturally Christian. My mind gravitates to Christian metaphors to describe the afterlife. I’ll likely incorporate these as much as I can, without offending my reason or pre-existing beliefs.