Magic Mushroom (Pt. 1 - Human Consciousness)
Last year I received an invitation to participate in an experiment at Johns Hopkins University wherein I (as a religious leader) would take the psychedelic mushroom, psilocybin. The goal of the experiment was/is to explore how I and other religious leaders respond to the drug or, errr, trip.
“Hopkins Scientists Seek Religious Leaders to take part in a study of psilocybin and mystical experience.”
Some of you may be relieved to learn that I did not participate in the study. As I considered the offer, I was particularly troubled by this sentence, which I take is the premise of the study:
“For the first time in the history of religion and science, profoundly revelatory experiences can be facilitated with a high degree of reliability in research settings, enabling us to study their phenomenology and influences on attitudes and behavior.”
This just sounds wrong to me as does the study’s claim that psychedelics are “to the study of religious experience as the microscope is to biology or the telescope to astronomy.”
As I reflected on this, though, I realized that the experiment raises interesting theological questions.
What are we to make of drug altered states of consciousness?
What makes an experience mystical or religious?
What are we to make of techniques, of any sort, that promise a spiritual experience? I will attempt to answer these questions over a series of blog posts.
I am struck by how little has been written about altered states of consciousness from a theological perspective.
Before we consider drug-induced state of consciousness, we ought consider consciousness in general. From a theological perspective we can say that human consciousness is God’s precious gift. Vivid cognizance of the self and the world around us is a source of wonderment and awe. Crystalline clarity of thought to perceive, reason about, and respond to the world regularly provokes gratitude and delight.
Human consciousness is not static, but has plasticity. Throughout history believers have experienced mystical, ecstatic moments where they literally “stand outside of themselves” (ex-stasis) in God’s presence. Perhaps we taste something of God’s glory in creation, in Christ, or in a truth that lies beneath the surface of things. In such moments the Holy Spirit imparts a sense of the divine excellence that provokes senses of awe, love, thanksgiving, obligation, guilt, or new possibility.
Experiences of altered God-consciousness can provide a new foundation for reasoning. For example, a person who senses wonderment while floating over a coral reef, may recognize that the world does not exist for our exploitation, but for God’s good pleasure. It has value in God’s sight, apart from any instrumental value it may have for people (to make money, or even their own enjoyment).
Again, a person may contemplate Christ’s cry of abandonment on the cross and come to view the world’s suffering in a different light. Cries of forsakenness cease to speak of God’s indifference, but are reminders of God’s burning passion for the world. Experiences such as these can become a means by which we are transformed by “the renewing of our minds” (Romans 12:1).
Throughout scripture friends and neighbors regularly misunderstand the believer’s transformed consciousness. Indeed, they may be disturbed by the new way of living it inspires. At Pentecost detractors accused the early believers of being drunk. The Apostle Paul indicates a similar misperception of the believer’s God-consciousness when he says, “if we are out of our minds, as some say, it is for God; if we are in our right minds it is for you” (II Corinthians 5:13). Like clarity of consciousness, the renewed consciousness, characterized by faith, hope, and love, is God’s gift.
Drug-Altered Consciousness
Drugs also affect consciousness, depending on their psychopharmacological properties. They may shift our perception of space and time, intensify our sense of connection with others, or alter perceptions of pain and pleasure. Some drugs mask our consciousness, dull our judgment and diminish our capacity to react quickly. Others sharpen our acuity.
Drugs are not inherently evil; they are part of God’s good creation. Our brains produce opioids and cannabinoids. Nicotine works in the brain and other organs because its molecules are shaped like the neurotransmitter, acetylcholine. Cocaine works on the limbic system. These drugs affect our consciousness because our brains have receptors for them. This is why so many drugs have medicinal uses. Indeed, drug-altered consciousness, such as that produced by anesthesia during surgery ought to evoke gratitude.
Drugs, like every other part of God’s good but fallen creation, can be misused. Even non-addictive drug use can diminish clarity of consciousness and hinder the work of the Spirit. For example, drugs can mask emotional pain, preventing us from squarely facing uncomfortable truths. They can promise the rewards of pleasure without summoning achievement or transformation. They can distract and demotivate. Some drugs pose significant risks of addiction. This, coupled with the human propensity to self-deception, is what makes some drugs so attractive, insidious, and disorienting.
Alcohol as Model
As we consider how drugs alter human consciousness, we recall that the Bible comes from a culture well acquainted with a powerful, mind-altering substance: alcohol. In places the Bible praises alcohol for “gladdening the heart” (Psalm 104:15), which sounds like it celebrates some degree of intoxication. In other passages wine is recommended for medicinal purposes (I Timothy 5:23). Jesus came “eating and drinking” and was accused of being a habitual drinker (Luke 7:34). He turned a staggering amount of water into wine at Cana and instituted alcohol for sacramental use in communion.
Such positive appraisals of alcohol wash up against our experience of alcohol’s destructive potential. We know people addicted to alcohol and others who, under the influence of alcohol, have done great harm. We are not surprised that the scriptures offer warnings against drunkenness (Galatians 5:21, Ephesians 5:18, I Peter 4:23, etc.). When we consider the damage alcohol causes we sympathize with those who have organized temperance movements (which originally encouraged temperance, not prohibition).
Perhaps we best reconcile scriptural affirmations and warnings by remembering the Apostle Paul’s advice, “‘All things are lawful for me,’ but not all things are beneficial. ‘All things are lawful for me,’ but I will not be dominated by anything” (1 Cor. 6:12).
The “me” Paul has in mind is not, “me” in isolation, but “me” in community with God an others, for Paul elsewhere insists, “If we live, we live for the Lord” (Romans 14:8). It follows that calculations of what is beneficial for “me” must include others: My family, coworkers, drivers and pedestrians on the road, and others who may be impacted more indirectly such as those who struggle with addiction or the poor who could benefit from money spent on alcohol. Consideration of our selves and others before God does not demand an ethic of abstinence, except, for people who struggle with addiction, for times when we are in presence of people who struggle to stay sober, or for substances that are addictive and harmful. Our obligations to others suggest the contours of an ethic of temperance and prudence that should guide our use of alcohol and other drugs.










