Our Politricks of Belief: Why certain religious stories—like talking snakes in a nudist camp called Eden—become doctrine while others like shape-shifting Ojola in Yoruba culture are discarded as savage myth.

Throughout history, religion has often appeared less convincing as intelligence and critical thinking deepen. It's no wonder that many religious institutions have grown their following through methods that could be seen as coercive—whether forced conversion, psychological pressure, or social enticements. 

The idea of individuals embracing religion without some external motivation seems increasingly rare. When people do convert, it often feels like there's an ulterior motive—be it the promise of an afterlife filled with unimaginable rewards, including the fanciful notion of being surrounded by virgins, or more immediate gains like wealth, status, and social mobility.

Take, for example, the violent history of religious expansion during the colonial period, where forced conversions were rampant. 

Consider the brutal methods used on Africans enslaved in the Americas to impose Christianity—psychological abuse and physical violence were tools of "persuasion." Yoruba culture even has a telling perspective on Islam; the word "Imole," meaning Islam in Yoruba, translates to "religion of forced conversion." This blunt description lays bare the legacy of compulsion attached to religious spread.

Spirituality and religion are often conflated, but the distinctions between the two are profound. Spirituality is personal, internal, and transcendent; religion, on the other hand, is organized, external, and often hierarchical. 

Yet, when we observe popular religions today, it's difficult to find evidence of genuine spirituality. Perhaps it is this artificiality that leads to skepticism. 

The spiritual connection many seek seems to have been replaced by rituals, rigid doctrines, and material incentives, which undermine the deeper quest for meaning.

Consider ancient civilizations like Japan and China, which resisted the intrusion of foreign religions. In early Japan, Christian missionaries were met with execution, and even today, countries like China and Japan have a much lower rate of Christian and Islamic conversion compared to other regions. 

Perhaps the ancients of these cultures were more astute in recognizing the potential for religious influence to erode indigenous beliefs, cultures, and intellect.

In fact, Dr. Henrik Clarke, a renowned scholar of African history, once humorously remarked that ancient peoples found it absurd to believe that the Creator of the vast universe could reside in a single building—a church. 

This skepticism is understandable. After all, how could something so infinite and omnipotent be contained within walls? The answer is that perhaps it cannot be, and many cultures viewed the world and spirituality in more expansive, imaginative ways.

Yet, these same imaginative worldviews, such as those found in Yoruba traditions—where shape-shifting and transformation were possible—are often ridiculed by Christian missionaries. 

Yoruba myth speaks of a reptilian entity named Ojola, who could change into human form by entering a magical bowl. This story is dismissed as mere folklore by religious proselytizers, who, ironically, preach about a talking snake in the Garden of Eden—a creature that converses with humans and leads to the downfall of humanity. 

The biblical story of Adam and Eve, complete with a talking serpent and forbidden fruit, is accepted globally as a foundational truth, even being sworn upon in courtrooms. Meanwhile, similar ideas from other cultures are scoffed at as primitive or fantastical.

This double standard raises the question: Why do certain miraculous stories—like talking serpents—become central religious doctrines while others, like shape-shifting in Yoruba culture, are discarded as savage myth? Perhaps it's not about the truth of the story, but about who controls the narrative.

In the end, religion as a tool for control and conversion often lacks the openness and personal connection that true spirituality offers. The ancients, from Africa to Asia, may have been on to something deeper than today's organized religions can offer—a vision of the divine that transcends buildings, books, and rituals.

Olofin VIA [4Qua of Orion ]