Living Myths

The Holy Bible

         In the early 1930's, Bill Wilson, the cofounder of AA, was an unemployed stockbroker in New York City and as thoroughly Western-minded as a person could be. And though the years since his book Alcoholics Anonymous (a.k.a. the “Big Book”) was published have brought many scientific advancements, theologically speaking, for many centuries now, our culture has barely shifted. Our most ubiquitous source of religious symbolism remains the Holy Bible, a collection of books documenting the history of the Jewish people as well as the early development of the Christian church. And whether we like it or not, whether we are religious or not, or whether we believe in it or not, as Westerners, our ideas regarding the world (and the world of myth) are impacted by what is contained within the Bible. This is especially true in regards to the way we conceive of God—that’s our doctrinal inheritance, so to speak. However, since many books within the Bible are considered by scholars and archeologists to be historical accounts, and since too many preachers of Western religion insist that the Bible is to be understood literally—as a historical document—our relationship to the symbols that the ancient document presents has become skewed, effectively blurring their transformative power.[1] For while it is true that some biblical characters were also historical figures, the almost universal assumption we have in the West that the Bible should be taken literally is very problematic for believers and non-believers alike. And Wilson’s quest to have “a vital spiritual experience” grew directly out of his engagement with this Western belief system, which is the fallow theological soil that as Westerners we have all unintentionally assumed, and which is thus ripened for a new spiritual approach. It thus became the foundation of a much anticipated new (and living) Western myth.

By and large, us in the West have adopted the very bad habit of only seeing our religious stories from one point of view—the literal and historical—whether we “believe in them” or not. So even if we know better than to take the stories of the Bible purely at face value, as many of them simply cannot be “true” from a scientific, historical perspective, we might still reject the biblical myth wholesale, and in doing so, miss the symbolic treasure it holds. Having completely lost the ability (or desire) to think about them symbolically, we reject our religious myths outright instead of doing the bit of mental exercise required to see them as highly meaningful constructs that could otherwise reach into our very core and change us from the inside out. This is exactly what they did for our ancestors, who could see the world through a symbolical lens that has long been lost to us. And so we find ourselves without a living, relatable myth—our entire civilization has been left to transverse through history dangerously untethered, which has caused all of us to feel more alienated from life and from each other than we otherwise might have. Our myths are the very things that we need to keep us grounded in the first place: “The religious myth is one of man’s greatest and most significant achievements,” writes Jung, “giving him the security and inner strength not to be crushed by the monstrousness of the universe.”[2]

So no matter our perspective on the historical veracity of our own “religious myths,” learning to unpack them from a purely symbolical perspective will help us reestablish the connection to our source. In this respect Bill Wilson is a shining example—he didn’t reject the Western myths to go seeking for meaning, the way so many of us have done, through the appropriation of other mythical traditions. Rather, he examined his own deeply instilled images and ideas from a different angle, learning to see them not from the literalism that plagues most of us, but from a personalized perspective which allowed him to tap in to something far more powerful than is typically available in institutional religion, and to experience a profound shift in his outlook on life. In this way, Wilson’s experience has become archetypal, benefiting many millions who have followed his example.

Other People’s Religion

All myths have as their purpose to transform us in the here and now. And while so many of us lack conscious connection to the ancient myths, we can learn to unlock the power of myth by understanding process as Wilson relayed in Alcoholics Anonymous and in the Twelve Steps, who basically invites us to take our own mythical journey in the same way that he took his. And if we learn to see all religious myths like the Twelve Steps, as tales of “what we used to be like, what happened, and what we are like now,” they will come to life, offering ancient wisdom and furthering our own spiritual transformation.[3]

            In his book The Inner Reaches of Outer Space, Joseph Campbell helps us parse the meaning of myth and religion and further distinguishes the two, noting that mistaking mythological symbols as references to actual persons, places, or outer events creates a problem as it reduces their transformative essence:

From the point of view of any orthodoxy, myth might be defined simply as “other people’s religion,” to which an equivalent definition of religion would be “misunderstood mythology,” the misunderstanding consisting in the interpretation of mythic metaphors as references to hard fact: the virgin birth, for example, as a biological anomaly, or the Promised Land as a portion of the near east to be claimed and settled by a people chosen of god, the term “God” here understood to be as denoting an actual, though invisible, masculine personality, who created the universe and is now resident in an invisible, though actual “heaven” to which the justified will go when they die, there to be joined at the end of time by their resurrected bodies.[4]

Campbell points out that the what now plagues Western culture is not rebellion against the moral teachings of our myths, as many religious leaders preach, but our allegiance to the idea that “mythic metaphors” are “references to hard fact.” Let’s face it, nearly all of the metaphors of the Bible have now become concretized to the point that their interpretation is based solely on an assumed literal and historical basis. Even the symbols “God” and “heaven” have become so concretized that their symbolical significance completely eludes us. In fact, many even find it unpalatable to speak of “God” as perhaps “just a symbol” and are truly dumbfounded by the idea that “heaven” is something we can experience presently, in the here and now.

Yet religious myths work best when seen as a collection of symbols that outline and inspire the process of individuation—which the experience of Bill Wilson and the Twelve Step fellowships handily demonstrate. And while all of this may sound strange or even uncomfortable, close examination reveals that religious symbolism always undergoes dramatic shifts in interpretation, so it is no surprise that entrenched religious ideas eventually pass from contemporary purview. Not even the concept “God” remains static—Jung showed that God becomes more and more human as we become more and more conscious of ourselves as living, breathing, and thinking beings.[5] In fact, Jung went so far as to say that “God wants to become human,” and we can see God’s “humanness” continue to expand with the introduction of Twelve Step mythology. For example, improving our conscious contact with God, as outlined in Step Eleven, comes about only after we have improved our conscious awareness of ourselves, “our ruling interests and motives,” through the earlier steps—namely steps four through nine, which involve a fearless inventory and then making a full amends.

The symbol of Christ, perhaps the most popular symbol for God the West has ever known, perfectly illustrates the evolutionary nature of deity: Christ made the symbol of God more relatable than it had hitherto been by being “born of a woman.” In this sense he was, like each of us, purely human. Yet paradoxically, Christ was also a divine being. And what was felt yet not intellectually understood was that we too are both human and divine, as Christ was.[6] So when this symbol was introduced to the ancient Mediterranean world, it spoke so deeply to the soul of our ancestors and spread with such momentum that it would eventually saturate nearly all of Western consciousness, shifting how we all perceive the Imago-dei. So it is Christ’s “humanness” that makes it hard for us to relate to this God-image purely as a symbol, and it is also this “humanness” that allows the symbol to reach such a deep place within us.

Living Myths

We might think of myths as systems of belief that were considered “living” back when they vibrated with such energy that many felt a vital connection to them. However, even those myths, whose accessible transformative power was immense, dimmed as the culture and individuals' psyches evolved. This cycle can be seen in practically every culture and civilization throughout history—myths have always evolved, new spiritual ideas and practices have always emerged, taking the place of the old ones. It is safe to say that the vibrancy of our current, nearly universal biblical myth has begun to diminish based on how often it is mistakenly referenced as a purely historical account. The spiritual effectiveness of the biblical myth, like every other ancient myth, fades as its power to reach into the hearts of the masses lessens over time.

The old religious traditions that eventually get replaced, sometimes after many hundreds or thousands of years, become what we usually refer to as “myth.” For example, the cult of Mithras is seen by some to be a precursor of Christianity, whereas its god, Mithra, shared the birthdate (December 25th) of Christ, performed a water miracle (like Christ), and whose initiates were marked with the sign of the cross. In addition, both Mithraism and Christianity have salvation as their goal, perhaps a vital hope for its followers who lived in uncertain times.  In fact, every myth one can think of, whether it be ancient Greek or Roman, Eastern and Egyptian, American Indian, or hailing from countless other origins that dot the jungled islands of the world, can be recognized as evolving to meet a changing culture, and as sprouting out of a previously entrenched religious tradition. And the faster the culture changes, the quicker the religious myth must evolve.

The Bible itself is replete with examples of how a new, living religion roots out of an old myth. When the most prolific early Christian missionary, Paul the Apostle, addressed the people of Athens, he was surrounded by the decaying temples and statues built to honor the gods of a spiritual tradition already in decline.  He admonished his audience to be open minded to the idea of a new conception of God—“the Lord of Heaven that does not dwell in temples made by human hands, nor is worshipped by men’s hands…and who has made from one blood every nation.”[7] Paul’s message to the people of Athens was that a new religion, not even called “Christianity” at the time he spoke to them, was spanning borders and uniting cultures and races—an inviting concept in the spanning Roman empire. And in hindsight we see that this new religion expanded with so much efficacy that it finally enveloped almost the entire Western world and long outlasted the Roman Empire.

Sociological Issues Play a Part

Indeed a basic understanding of any religion shows that it must “adapt, adjust, and change all the time,” as sociological issues come to bear on individuals and societies.[8] Living myths are those which can still effectively meet the demands of a changing society without completely reformulating its fundamental doctrines—a large order for a modern myth, considering how quickly our ideas must shift based on the swift advancement of science. In the Roman Empire, many sociological issues led to the quick spread of Christianity. For example, the new idea of Christian welfare was very appealing because it was provided even for those not yet converted to the church. Also, some scholars have speculated that monogamy was likely another “selling point” leading to the quick spread of Christianity as it allowed Christian women to retain their property if their husbands died, whereas pagan women were required to remarry and thus surrender any land or goods acquired in their previous marriage. The concept of monogamy further benefited women who were widowed as Christians because they and their children were supported by the church through the welfare it provided.[9]

The spread of Christianity in its early days, as understood by modern scholarship, can provide much insight into the spread of the Twelve Step myth (and vice-versa).[10] For just as Christianity when it emerged spoke to the most pressing issues of the day, the Twelve Step myth took hold at a time in our culture when we are plagued with alcoholism and drug addiction—which our religious and social institutions have little positive impact upon despite the massive strain on individuals, families, and communities. The high cost of the “disease of addiction” and the “low cost solution” which the Twelve Steps provide is leading to the rapid adoption of the Twelve Steps—which effectively addresses the problem. Judges, clergy, police, therapists—nearly anyone dealing with the alcoholic and drug addict directly—all refer them to the Twelve Step fellowships once they realize, like Silkworth did, they can do little to help “certain types” find lasting recovery. Yet, in essence, the Twelve Steps is nothing more than a practical, modern approach to ancient religion, a highly relatable method of religious practice in a reformulated Western mythology. The Twelve Steps has even been adopted by nearly every major Western religion as they try and tackle the issue of addiction within their own communities. Thus Twelve Step spirituality has already crept into Western religious consciousness and begun to shift the way we practice religion, still less than a century since its inception.

The Religious Statement

Jung explains that when a new myth begins to capture the psyche of an individual or of an entire civilization, the characters of the old myths become like those of a fictional story rather than the living symbols they once were. And while the religious symbols that fade into fiction still might have some meaning for us, they lack the power they presented back when the myth was still “living“—when the myth was still highly relatable to the people of that culture. It is the relatability of the symbols woven through that causes a new myth to be adopted en masse in the first place. Jung writes: “Whereas the mythological figures appear as pale phantoms and relics of a long past life that has become strange to us, the religious statement [of a new myth] represents an immediate ‘numinous’ experience. It is a living mythologem.”[11] Jung is describing the process whereby a person realizes that the religious symbolism we are all familiar with is simply “a psychology projected to the outer world,” as Freud described. Therefore, “the religious statement" Jung refers to can include that of any new myth that  bursts upon the world, the Twelve Step myth being only the most recent example. So in contrast to those ancient “mythological figures" such as Yahweh, Christ, Abraham, Paul, or any other mythological figure from the past, sits what is now “the best possible explanation for the thing divined”—the new, religious statement. And Jung tells us something that should be obvious by now, but which still eludes many practitioners of modern religion: there is no difference between myth and religion, other than to say that “the religious statement” retains its living (highly relatable) quality. Jung confirms that both myth and religion are emblematic of “an entire psychic change,” rather than personages or places in real life:

Myth [is] a statement about processes in the unconscious [he writes], and this applies equally to the religious statement. [There is no] means of deciding whether the latter is “truer” than the mythologem, for between the two [there is] only one difference: the difference in living intensity. The so-called religious statement is still numinous, a quality which the myth has already lost to a great extent… Rites and figures once “sacred” have become obsolete and … new figures have become “numinous.”[12]

  Myth and religion then are identical in their aim to produce transformation, and neither is more capable of it than the other. All myths present a complete picture regarding the transformation process in the society for which the myth is still vibrantly active. What distinguishes myth from religion is its “living intensity,” which is measured by how effectively it transforms lives in the culture where it is practiced. In other words, the effectiveness of any myth is dependent on the culture and time in which the individual practicing the myth lives, much like the deeper meaning of a beautiful work of art can only be enjoyed by individuals living within the community and time frame within in which the piece was originally created.

Numinosity, The Power of the Archetypes

Jung says that when a new myth bubbles forth from the collective unconscious, “new figures have become numinous.” We’ve seen that Christ was just such a character, and in the early days of Christianity, the power that the symbol of Christ evoked was incredibly moving—leading to its broad and quick adoption. We see much the same type of momentum in the Twelve Step myth. And the power that effective archetypal symbols evoke—the power that awakens the transcendent spiritual experience in individuals—was coined numinosity in Rudolph Otto's The Idea of the Holy. This term was then adopted almost universally to indicate the presence of “something other-worldly, divine, or spiritual.” If something is numinous, then it is also transcendent—beyond the grasp of the intellect, like all mythological symbols. Furthermore, the numinous carries a powerful quality that enables it to lift consciousness from a lower state to a higher one, or in the words of Wilson, “improve our conscious contact with God, as we understood him.”[13] In other words, it is the numinosity of the symbol that gives it the power to transform a person’s life, and it is the presence of the numinosum that qualifies a myth as “living.” Thus, Jung wrote that a “religious attitude [is one] peculiar to a consciousness which has been changed by experience of the numinosum.” Numinosity is to myth (or religion) what electricity is to the wiring and components that carry an electrical current.  “Symbols act as transformers,” writes Jung, “their function being to convert [psychic energy] from a lower into a higher form.”[14]  Indeed, the components of an electrical system may exist without there being an electrical current, yet without the presence of functioning components there is no way to access the power. And without power, the electrical components are useless. The same is true of the relationship between myth and numinosity—the myth must be properly relatable for the numinosity to manifest into transformation.

Thus numinosity is very important in the Twelve Step experience just as it is to all other myths. Beginning with Step One, practitioners of the Twelve Steps learn that they are “powerless over alcohol.” Then in Step Two, they “[come] to believe that a power greater than [themselves] could restore [them] to sanity.”[15] “Lack of power,” writes Wilson, “that was our dilemma. We had to find a power by which we could live, and it had to be a power greater than ourselves. Obviously. But where and how were we to find this power?”[16] That important question is the basis of all spiritual and religious tradition in every age and culture—the answer being that the power is found in the numinosity of the religious archetypes. In other words, the only thing sufficient to overcome the baffling powerlessness expressed in Step One is the numinosity found in living mythological symbols.  These symbols are presented in Steps Two and Three as “a power greater than ourselves” and “God as we understood him.” The steps present the symbol in its living aspect by inviting the practitioner to “come to believe” in a “God of their own understanding,” which is the way such a power is commonly expressed in Twelve Step meetings.

Archetypes and the Collective Unconscious

These highly charged, numinous symbols abide in such a deep part of our psyche that we neither recognize when we are transformed by them, nor how they were the catalyst of that change—a fact well known in the Twelve Step fellowships.[17] Jung referred to the dense symbolical concepts buried in every human’s unconscious as “archetypes of the collective unconscious” because they permeate all cultures, mythologies and religious landscapes. For this reason, the symbols upon which religion and myth are founded, no matter where or when during the world’s history, share many attributes with one another—they are archetypal—meaning they occur simultaneously across cultures and even timespans. “The archetype is always an image belonging to the whole human race, and not merely to the individual,” wrote Jung, in his important work Archetypes and the Collective Unconscious, where the concept of the collective unconscious was presented to the world.[18] As the collective dream of the human race, religious myths have many commonalities with one another, just as the images that populate our nightly dreams are archetypal symbols, coming as they do from our individual unconscious, and thus do not represent those people or events in real life.[19] Furthermore, because they are archetypal, no single myth is more true or more effective than any other. It is only our ability to relate to a myth which makes it more effective, or more numinously charged, for us personally.

Thus the Twelve Steps echoes the processes other myths and religions of the world have taught for millennia. And while it might appear that Wilson “borrowed” ideas from other mythical traditions when he wrote the steps, he actually tapped into the same source from which all myths emanated when he penned them—that source being the collective unconscious. Being untrained in theological matters when he developed the Twelve Step process, the likelihood that he could have gleaned his ideas from another human source is actually implausible, since he far exceeded his own abilities when he developed the process, being barely two years sober at the time he wrote the book. Yet Wilson intuitively understood that the mythological symbols he was presenting were archetypal (though he never referred to them as either myths or archetypes) and he knew that it is the numinosity of the archetypes that moves a person to act, sometimes even without their conscious consent, compelling them to take actions which previously ran contrary to their very nature. He wrote, “Deep down in every man, woman, and child, is the fundamental idea of God,” which is essentially a definition of Jung’s “collective unconscious.” Wilson taught that the transformative urge that drives people into the Twelve Step fellowships is further awakened through the power of the symbols the Twelve Steps presents to them. The archetypal symbols expressed in the Twelve Steps have power to level-up our consciousness, and by definition numinosity is that power. Wilson describes the outcome of the spiritual process in a statement which perfectly illustrates the numinous power of archetypal symbols:

The great fact is just this, and nothing less: That we have had deep and effective spiritual experiences which have revolutionized our whole attitude toward life, toward our fellows and toward God’s universe. The central fact of our lives today is the absolute certainty that our Creator has entered into our hearts and lives in a way which is indeed miraculous. He has commenced to accomplish those things for us which we could never do by ourselves.[20]

Part of Wilson’s genius was that he was able to clarify the meaning and message of the archetypal language of religion and to personalize it in such a way that it came through, not as a complex, symbolical story, but as a fresh expression of that which always flows forth from the collective unconscious. In doing so he injected new life into the fading myths of Western culture, restoring access to the numinous for many millions of people.

[1] In 2022, poll says 49% of Americans view the Bible as "inspired by God" but not everything in it is to be taken literally. 29% say it is a collection of fables, history and moral precepts recorded by man. 20% of Americans say it is the actual word of God to be taken literally. (Gallup July 6, 2022)

[2] 5:343

[3] AA 59

[4] Inner Reaches of Outer Space, page 27.

[5] Needs a reference

[6] We will explore our own divinity throughout the remainder of this book

[7] Acts 17:24-30n (check)

[8] Insert footnote from book about religious innovation

[10] This highly significant relationship is worthy of a doctoral dissertation.

[11] Find quote

[12] 11:450-451

[13] AA___

[14] Carl Jung, Symbols of Transformation, par 344. Note that Jung uses the term “libido.” The term libido typically  refers to sexual energy, as the term is often used today, but for Jung, libido was “psychic energy,” and could be compared to Wilson’s use of the term “will” in Step Three—made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood him,” or “conscious contact” of Step Eleven could also be substituted for Jung’s libido. See Jung 6:778.

[15] AA ____

[16] AA 45

[17] Add quote from Spiritual appendix as entire footnote here….

[18] 9i:273, I might need to verify the truth of the statement that this book was written by Jung rather than the editors. Its probably a paper or talk or soemthi8ng

[19] For an in-depth study of this phenomenon, see Joseph Campbell, The Hero With a Thousand Faces, and Masks of God, Volumes 1-4.

[20] AA 23