Some people go looking for God in the great outdoors. If you drop them in a kelp bed off the coast of California or on a high mountain trail fragrant with pine duff, an ineffable sense of connectedness to all things soars up in them.
Not more than a week after my rant about the absurdities that poured from the mouth of Pat Robertson regarding Haiti's earthquake, I read this headline: "Iranian Cleric: Promiscuous Women Cause Earthquakes."
The hope of playing a harp in heaven or coming back to earth as a Brahman does motivate us to stay on the straight and narrow path. And maybe such coercive images are a good thing. But the old myths need a little overhauling.