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Anomalous Cognition and Veridical Perception During Near-Death Experiences (NDEs)

Janice Miner Holden, EdD, shares her latest research

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Jul 21, 2026

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Photo by Marek Piwnicki

Janice Miner Holden, EdD, completed her doctoral degree in 1988 and spent 31 years on the University of North Texas Counseling Program faculty, retiring in 2019 as professor emerita. Her primary research focus has been near-death experiences, after-death communication, and other transpersonal experiences—those that transcend the usual personal limits of space, time, identity, and influence. She has published and presented extensively and has received several awards and honors. Since 2008, she has served as editor of the scholarly peer-reviewed Journal of Near-Death Studies, and she is recent past-president of the International Association for Near-Death Studies (2020–2026).

The focus of this paper is the phenomenon of veridical perception (VP) in near-death experiences (NDEs): research on it, whether it is “anomalous,” and the implications of research findings about it for an understanding of the relationship between consciousness and the brain. To begin this exploration, I will summarize what five decades of research have revealed about NDEs—their contents and aftereffects.

The story of these data begins with the phenomenon that psychiatrist and philosopher Raymond Moody (1975) termed “NDE” in his book Life After Life, which is currently credited with opening the contemporary field of near-death studies. A concise summary of five subsequent decades of research could be summed up in the phrase, “What he said back in 1975.” That is, research since then has largely confirmed much of what he presented—and, of course, has also refined and expanded on it. A recent summary of research appears in psychiatrist Bruce Greyson’s (2021) book, After.

"Consciousness is, indeed, beyond the brain."

What we now know (Greyson, 2021; Holden et al., 2009) is that during a close brush with death or other extreme circumstances, 10-20% of people—an estimated 5% of the adult world population—report a lucid, real or hyperreal experience comprising five aspects. Although these aspects resemble stages, I use the term aspect because, although they tend to occur in the following order, not all experiencers (NDErs) report all aspects, and the middle three can occur in any order and can sometimes overlap:

Exit: Perceiving one’s consciousness leaving the body. The specifics vary among NDErs: For example, some report exiting through the head, some through the toes, some through the chest, and some through a total lifting out of the body.

Material: Perceiving the material world from a position outside the physical body. Perception during this aspect is “normal plus:” Objects appear and sounds sound identical to perception in the body, and, in addition, physically exceptional capacities exist, such as the ability to “see” in any direction, to both see and see through physical objects such as walls, to “hear” the unspoken thoughts of living people in the vicinity, and to move “at the speed of thought” to other physical locations.

Transition: Perceiving rapid movement toward and/or through a material or non-material space toward a transmaterial location. This space may be open, either dark or illuminated, or it may take the form of a structure, often a tunnel, the specific description of which varies among NDErs.

Transmaterial: Perceiving and interacting with entities and environments not of the material world. The entities can include deceased loved ones and/or other spiritual beings, both recognized and not, with whom the NDEr communicates telepathically—directly mind-to-mind. The environments can include earthlike locations of unearthly beauty, vast structures, and cities of light. This aspect often includes a life review in which, typically, the NDEr simultaneously re-views—sees again—every moment of their earthly life while also re-experiencing it; experiencing being each person with whom they interacted in it, feeling directly the effect that their actions had on the other; and perceiving it from a “higher” or “spiritual” perspective. This aspect may also include memories of past lives and glimpses into the future, both personal and global, and typically ends with the NDEr either being told they must return to, choosing to return to, or simply finding themselves back in their physical body. When they choose to return, it is virtually always to serve one or more living people or to serve humanity at large.

Re-entry: Perceiving consciousness re-entering the body. Again, when an NDE includes this aspect, the NDEr may describe reentry in any of several ways.

Other features that pervade NDEs include changes in the perception of time, emotions experienced with unearthly intensity, and cognitive processes operating at unearthly speed. Although most NDEs are dominated by pleasurable emotions such as peace, love, and joy, a minority—perhaps 10%—are dominated by distressing feelings such as confusion, terror, horror, isolation, or guilt.

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Following NDEs, experiencers manifest changes, including psychological, such as loss of fear of death and shift toward more loving values; spiritual, including intense interest in spirituality and development of “spiritual gifts” such as precognition and telepathy; physical, such as changes in appetites, metabolism, and sensitivities, as well as electromagnetic effects whereby electronic devices in the NDEr’s vicinity malfunction, especially when the NDEr is emotionally aroused; and social, whereby the foregoing changes reverberate in the NDEr’s social world, including changes in relationships, organizational affiliations, and vocation.

NDEs have occurred throughout history and across cultures. They are equal-opportunity experiences, occurring to people of all demographics, including various belief systems. They can be understood to have three levels: universal, a deep-structure level involving features that appear universally or nearly universally; cultural, a first-level surface structure involving the experience or interpretation of a universal feature in a form consistent with the NDEr’s culture; and individual, a second-level surface structure involving the expression of a first-level feature in a form unique to the NDEr. Because experiencers often encounter phenomena in their NDEs that are not found in or that contradict their belief systems, NDEs cannot reasonably be attributed entirely to cultural expectations.

Veridical Perception in Near-Death Experiences

NDEs are private, subjective experiences that, as described above, typically feel as real or more real than normal waking reality. Occasionally, however, an NDEr reports something they perceived during the NDE—typically in the material or transmaterial aspect—that is subsequently verified as accurate; that is, the experience appears to be not only subjectively, but also objectively, real. These cases of VP comprise two categories.

The first category involves perceptions that can be explained with current models of brain function. For example, during the material aspect, an NDEr, from a position above their physical body, sees their surgeon performing surgery on their body, or during the transmaterial aspect, an NDEr meets a deceased relative whom they know has died. Both examples could be explained with known mental processes such as memory, expectation, and imagination—despite the typical NDEr asserting adamantly that they directly perceived the contents of their NDE rather than imagined them based on recall and imagination.

The second category includes perceptions seemingly impossible to explain with current models of brain function. For example, immediately upon regaining consciousness post-surgery, a woman tells her surgeon that she had observed the surgical procedure from a position above and through the operating room ceiling and accurately reports what each member of the medical team did. She also reports having seen through the operating room walls and describes exactly what another medical team was doing in the adjacent operating room—amputating a man’s leg and placing it in a yellow disposal bag—the latter details of which her surgeon was completely unaware but that he subsequently investigated through hospital records and found to be completely correct (Rivas et al., 2023, p. 77). An example during the transmaterial aspect is an NDEr who reports having met a physically deceased acquaintance whom the NDEr did not know had died and who is subsequently confirmed as having died prior to the NDE (Rivas et al., 2023, p. 223 ff.).

“The environments can include earthlike locations of unearthly beauty, vast structures, and cities of light.”

For second-category cases, I use the more specific term apparently-non-physical veridical perception (AVP; Holden, 2009): a report by an NDEr of a perception during the NDE that, based on the condition and position of the physical body and everything known to the NDEr at the time, should not have been physically possible—occurred seemingly outside the bounds of physical perception or logical inference—yet is subsequently verified as accurate.

This category of cases meets the definition of anomalous: Their occurrence “appears to be inconsistent with the usually accepted explanations of reality” (APA Dictionary of Psychology, 2026). That “usually accepted explanation of reality” is reflected currently in the philosophical physicalist/materialist worldview that dominates Western science, including the fields of medicine and psychology. Materialism is “a theory that physical matter is the only fundamental reality and that all . . . phenomena can be explained as manifestations or results of matter” (Merriam-Webster Dictionary, 2026). Because AVP involves perception that should not have been physically possible, it defies physical explanation and challenges the assumption that all phenomena can be explained in physical terms.

Cases of AVP vary in their evidential value. The most evidential cases involve perception of something that occurred while the NDEr was more than 30 seconds into cardiac arrest—the point at which no brain activity can be detected by electroencephalogram (EEG), that is unique/idiosyncratic, that contradicted or exceeded the NDEr’s expectations, and that is verified by at least one credible third party. They appear to involve lucid, complex, accurate perception from a perspective outside the physical body at a time when no measurable brain activity can be detected. Of course, the brain is presumably involved in forming and in communicating about the memory of the experience—but apparently not in the experience itself.

Research Into Veridical Perception in Near-Death Experiences

Study of Cases of Veridical Perception Gleaned From the Professional Literature

Beginning with Moody’s (1975) book, VP in general, and AVP in particular, have periodically been reported in the professional literature. One of my early forays into systematic study of this phenomenon (Holden, 2009) was in response to a publication by Keith Augustine (2007) in which he reported a few cases of supposed AVP that had, in fact, contained error, which he labeled hallucinatory and from which he cast doubt on the veracity of AVP in general.

Rather than focus only on these cases involving error, I collected every case of VP I could find in the literature—a total of 107 cases. I separated them into those that occurred during the material and the transmaterial aspects and then analyzed them by two dimensions of evidential value: accuracy—completely accurate, some error, or completely erroneous—and corroboration source—by the experiencer only, by others per the report of the experiencer, or by objective sources such as testimony of attending physician or hospital records. Results are shown in Table 1.

In summary,

37% of cases were completely accurate and objectively corroborated,

55% of cases were completely accurate and subjectively corroborated,

6% of cases included some error, and

<2% of cases were completely erroneous.

Rather than a conclusion that AVP is hallucinatory, the totality of these data indicates that AVP is predominantly accurate.

Some critics, such as Augustine (2007), have hypothesized that these results may have been invalidly skewed toward the accuracy of VP due to the file drawer effect, whereby researchers have declined or been unable to publish cases involving error and, thus, have “filed them away.” At least two points argue against this hypothesis. One point is that the sources of some of these cases were researchers conducting prospective studies explicitly seeking, in part, to confirm or disconfirm AVP; presumably, they would have reported any negative, disconfirming cases—but the great majority did not. The other point harkens back to the work of Jessica Utts (1991), who calculated that a vast number of unreported cases would have to exist to render the reported accurate cases statistically nonsignificant.

In both cases, to assume the file drawer effect would mean to question the non-biased accuracy and integrity of many researchers—to an extent so improbable that it exceeds credibility. In other words, it seems unbelievable that so many researchers would have failed to report so many erroneous cases of VP.

Hospital Studies of AVP

In addition to Moody’s (1975) reports of AVP, cardiologist Michael Sabom (1982), in the first prospective study of NDEs and their aftereffects, also “stumbled upon” several cases of AVP. As a result, early in the field’s evolution, the question arose whether AVP might be captured under controlled research conditions.

Thus, another of my early forays into VP research was the first prospective hospital study involving visual targets placed in hospital rooms to be visible only from the perspective of the ceiling—the indoors location of consciousness that most NDErs have reported. The hope was that an NDEr, upon regaining consciousness following their medical crisis, would be able to accurately describe the contents of the hidden target. A depiction of one such study setup appears in Figure 1.

Figure 1: Example Depiction of Setup for Prospective Hospital Research on AVP. Note. Used by permission of Bruce Greyson (personal communication, 03 April 2026)

Chaplain Leroy Joesten and I conducted that first study at Lutheran General Hospital in Park Ridge, Illinois (Holden & Joesten, 1990). Six studies followed, each involving different types of visual targets, various lengths of study, and numbers of hospitals that ranged from one to 25:

1996, Madelaine Lawrence, Hartford Hospital, Hartford, CT

2001, Sam Parnia et al., Southampton Hospital, Southampton, England, UK

2004, Penny Sartori, Morriston Hospital, Swansea, Wales, UK

2006, Greyson et al., University of Virginia Hospital, Charlottesville, VA

2014, Sam Parnia et al., AWARE study, multiple hospitals

2023, Sam Parnia et al., AWARE II study, multiple hospitals

In short, none of these researchers succeeded in capturing AVP under controlled conditions—although several yielded additional cases of verified, accurate AVP, as in the cases of patients who had been resuscitated in hospital locations not equipped with the hidden visual target.

The question arises why so many efforts in this regard have failed. One possible reason is the use of targets with contents irrelevant to the NDEr—although the entire foray into this type of research was based on multiple reports of NDErs describing phenomena that were extraneous to their medical crisis. Another possible reason is static visual targets that did not attract the NDEr’s attention—the above studies 1, 3, 4, 6, & 7. Yet another possible reason is patients under the influence of Versed, a drug intended to block memory—study 5, and some other study participants. And yet another possible reason is small sample size and relatively short study duration—studies 1, 2, 3, 4, & 5.

To address this latter challenge, pulmonologist and emergency room physician Sam Parnia conducted two multi-hospital, multi-year studies. Most recently, his AWARE-II study involved nearly three years of data collection in 25 hospitals and included both visual and auditory stimuli. His data illustrate how extremely rare is the likelihood of capturing AVP under controlled circumstances:

Out of a total of 567 (100%) resuscitations,

53 (9.5%) of resuscitated patients survived,

Of which 25 (4%) did not complete interviews, due to factors such as unwillingness to participate in the study or severe medical condition prohibiting participation, and 28 (5%) completed interviews,

Of which 6 (1%) reported recalled experience of death / NDEs,

Of which none identified the visual stimulus, and one (.002%) identified the auditory stimulus—under circumstances that could not definitively be attributed to AVP.

Parnia (2024) concluded that, because of the nature of perception during NDEs, “I now realize hiding images in a hospital room for the dying individual to see was ultimately unlikely to be sufficient to explain the phenomenon” (p. 296).

I disagree that such research should not be pursued further and propose an ideal study that, like Parnia’s is multi-hospital and multi-year, but also, as in my study with Bruce Greyson and colleague (Greyson et al., 2006), involves an electronically-generated visual target that includes motion—to capture the attention of an NDEr—and that displays the current time—to serve as a marker of the exact time of the perception that can be compared to hospital records of the exact time of cardiac arrest, and also involves questioning all patients who survived cardiac arrest—not just those who survived it in rooms equipped with targets. However, the fact is that, for now, the only available data about AVP are vetted cases.

A Collection of Cases of AVP Verified by at Least One Credible Third Party

Fortunately, in this regard, Titus Rivas, Anny Dirven, and Rudolf Smit began with my list of 107 cases of VP gleaned from the professional literature, retained only those that involved complete accuracy and were verified by at least one credible third party, added other such cases that had occurred subsequently, researched the cases for their veracity whenever possible, and published the collection in the book The Self Does Not Die (Rivas et al., 2023). Most of the total 128 cases are of AVP; a few involve other verified phenomena such as anomalous healing.

Cases of AVP in the book include a patient who accurately

described medical personnel who had been present only during the patient’s resuscitation (numerous cases),

described idiosyncratic objects used only during resuscitation (case 1.9, and others),

described an idiosyncratic gesture that the patient’s surgeon silently made only during the resuscitation process (case 1.5, and others),

conveyed to the professional their unspoken thoughts while resuscitating the patient (case 3.13, and others),

described the conversations of people at a great distance from the patient during the resuscitation (case 2.15, and others),

reported the location of a watch that a doctor had lost during the resuscitation (case 1.19), and

reported a 12-digit number on top of a machine in the resuscitation room, visible only from the ceiling (case 2.5).

Critics have charged that no amount of case evidence can suffice to substantiate the validity of AVP. They resurrect the file-drawer-effect argument and contend that, in each case, the experiencer and their corroborator(s) were either delusional, mistaken, or fraudulent. Starting from the assumption of physicalism/materialism, they contend that although the specifics of the case seem to defy a physicalist/materialist explanation, “there must be” an as-yet-undiscovered physical/material explanation.

To assess such claims, I invite readers to join me in a thought experiment.

At the end of his most recent book, Lucid Dying, Parnia (2024) described in some detail the trauma of being an emergency room physician during the COVID-19 pandemic, which involved witnessing hundreds of deaths in a matter of a few weeks, including some members of the medical profession who, in the line of duty, themselves contracted COVID and died; feeling profound overwhelm, exhaustion, and powerlessness to treat the extreme suffering and prevent the numerous deaths he witnessed; and fearing his own suffering and death if he were to contract COVID.

One option is to believe that COVID-19 is a hoax: Parnia is either deluded, mistaken, or fraudulent. Those who corroborate his story are also either deluded, mistaken, or fraudulent. Corroborating hospital records are mistaken or fraudulent. All of these sources are part of a conspiracy to mislead the public for political purposes and/or material gain.

Another option, however, is that I, along with you readers, rely on Parnia’s sanity, accuracy, and integrity, and believe his testimony.

However, if his testimony regarding the trauma surrounding COVID-19 is credible, how can the seven accounts of AVP in The Self Does Not Die to which Parnia’s work contributed not also be credible? And what of the other 64 medical professionals who contributed to the cases of AVP in the book:

48 MDs, including two also with PhDs, who contributed to over 80 cases,

2 medically-associated PhDs, who contributed to 2 cases,

5 PhD-level nurses, who contributed to 22 cases, and

8 non-PhD nurses and two similar medical professionals, who contributed to 11 cases.

Can all these professionals—who, because of the prevailing physicalist/materialist philosophy in the field of medicine, are actually disincentivized to report such “anomalous” phenomena as AVP, and who represent 10 diverse countries—Argentina, Brazil, France, Germany, The Netherlands, Pakistan, the former Soviet Union, Spain, the UK, and the United States—be deluded, mistaken or fraudulent witnesses? It is noteworthy that, in addition to Parnia, these medical professionals include, in alphabetical order by last name:

Tom Aufderheide, MD, Professor; Director, Resuscitation Research Center, Medical College of Wisconsin

Lauren Bellg, MD, internal and ICU medicine, Appleton, WI

Maggie Callanan, RN, CRNH, hospice nurse

Bruce Greyson, MD, Professor Emeritus of Psychiatry, University of Virginia School of Medicine

Jeffrey Long, MD, radiation oncologist, Houma, LA

Mary Neal, MD, orthopedic surgeon, Jackson Hole, WY

Miguel Ángel Pertierra Quesada, MD, otolaryngologist, Regional Hospital, Málaga, Spain

Michael Sabom, MD, cardiologist, Atlanta, GA

Penny Sartori, PhD, RGN, intensive care nurse, Wales, UK

Pim van Lommel, MD, cardiologist, The Netherlands

Again, it seems highly improbable that so many successful medical professionals could all be misguided in providing testimony regarding AVP that they personally witnessed.

A More Detailed Examination of a Case of AVP

The Case

To explore the possibility of delusion, mistake, or fraud, I offer the following example of AVP from The Self Does Not Die (Rivas et al., 2023): Case 3.11 Lloyd Rudy’s Patient. Lloyd W. Rudy (1934-2012) was a United States cardiothoracic surgeon who practiced in Spokane, Washington, and Great Falls, Montana. The patient was a man with a heart valve infection who required a valve resection. At the end of the procedure, during which he had been in cardiac arrest and connected to a heart-lung machine, every attempt to get him off the machine resulted in plummeting blood pressure. Finally, the team turned off the machine, his blood pressure plummeted to zero, and the team pronounced the patient dead. Rudy’s assistant, cardiac surgeon Roberto Amado-Cattaneo, closed the patient’s chest. However, the team neglected to turn off the machine that monitored blood pressure and pulse, so the print-out piled up on the floor.

Rudy and his assistant changed their clothes and then returned to the operating room doorway to discuss whether they had overlooked any opportunity to save the patient’s life. Rudy estimated that at least 20 minutes had passed since the heart-lung machine had been turned off, when the two surgeons noticed sporadic heartbeats—which they dismissed as something occasionally seen but clinically meaningless—until they observed that the heartbeats were sufficient to generate potentially viable blood pressure. They called in the medical team and succeeded in resuscitating the patient, who remained unconscious throughout the procedure and for a day or two afterwards.

Upon regaining consciousness, the patient reported to Rudy and other medical staff that his consciousness had floated above the room, seen Rudy and Amado-Cattaneo standing in the doorway, seen the anesthesiologist come running back into the room, and seen a string of Post-it notes stuck to the monitor. Regarding the latter perception, Rudy explained that it was his practice, whenever his nurse took a phone call while Rudy was in surgery, to have her write the message on a Post-it note, bring it into the operating room, and stick it to the bottom of the previous Post-it note—so that, after surgery, he would have his “list” of phone calls to return.

The question arises how this patient, who was physically unconscious and somewhere between clinically dead and barely alive, could have perceived these events—in particular, the string of Post-it notes, a very idiosyncratic element that was created silently and without comment and, therefore, could have been perceived only visually—yet the patient’s physical eyes were not functional at the time.

After Rudy’s report, Amado-Cattaneo confirmed it. He also asserted that the monitor was not malfunctioning and that the patient was so “loaded” with anesthetics and sedatives that “there is no way in the world that he could have seen or be [sic] aware of anything” (p. 95).

Possible Materialist Explanations

Materialist explanations include delusion, that the experiencer and/or corroborating witness were suffering from a thought disorder, leading to misinterpretation of what had occurred; mistaken interpretation, usually involving alternative explanations to the experiencer’s assertion that their consciousness was actually functioning outside their body; and/or fraud, that the experiencer and/or witnesses were involved in a conspiracy to perpetrate a hoax.

Could the patient, Rudy, and/or Amado-Cattaneo have been delusional? The surgeons made no mention of the patient having a history of mental disorder; rather, they implied that he was mentally healthy. Regarding the surgeons, it defies logic that, regarding one isolated case, two successfully practicing cardiac surgeons were both suddenly stricken with thought disorder, generating a deluded memory that persisted for years.

Could they have been mistaken? Anesthesiologist Gerald Woerlee offered an explanation based on The Lazarus Phenomenon, whereby “a person spontaneously recovers heartbeat, blood pressure, breathing, and consciousness after periods of absent heartbeat lasting sometimes as long as 26 minutes” (Rivas et al., 2023, p. 94). As Amado-Cattaneo described, the string of Post-it notes might have been located within the patient’s physical visual field; thus, he might have momentarily regained consciousness and seen them.

Amado-Cattaneo, however, summarily dismissed this explanation, confirming that “this patient was dead for 25 minutes or more with no cardiac pulmonary movement or brain function . . . I was there.” With this dismissal, he confirmed his personal observation that the patient remained consistently physically unconscious throughout the episode and for at least one day afterwards and was, therefore, unable to see the notes with his physical eyes. In addition, even if the patient had briefly opened his eyes, two factors suggest an inability to form a coherent memory. One is that this patient was heavily medicated with anesthetics and sedatives. The other is that in the first moments of regaining consciousness under these circumstances, patients are typically confused and disoriented (Greyson, 2021).

“I contend that the body of evidence of AVP is so extensive that the physicalist/materialist furniture has fallen over.”

Similarly, it might be speculated that someone mentioned the Post-it notes, which the patient overheard and “converted” into a visual memory. This explanation constitutes the sweeping “explanation” by which materialists dismiss all cases of AVP: reconstructed memory. According to this explanation, the NDEr is presumed to have created a visual memory based on having heard or put together information they had previously received through normal means but had forgotten the actual source of the information. Nothing in the account, however, supports this possibility.

The Post-it note procedure was apparently a familiar routine to Rudy and his associates, one that was carried out without comment. The weakness of this explanation is confirmed by many other cases in Rivas et al.’s (2023) book in which NDErs saw idiosyncratic, silent phenomena that were routinely known to the medical staff and, therefore, not discussed. No case exists in which an NDEr recalls having heard mention of the visual element they later reported or in which corroborators recalled having discussed the visual element before, during, or after the medical procedure. To assume that over 200 people—NDErs and their corroborators in Rivas et al. (2023)—could all have been mistaken in this way defies logic.

Could this be a case of fraud? Amado-Cattaneo asserted, “This was not a hoax, no way, this was as real as it gets” (p. 93). Again, it defies logic that two practicing surgeons would put their reputations on the line to lie about a case such as this.

Length limitation of this article prevents similar analysis of the 127 other cases in Rivas et al.’s (2023) book—and particularly the 42 cases in Chapter 3 that involved perception while the patient was confirmed to have been in cardiac arrest. I invite readers, however, to engage in such an analysis—perhaps even going so far as to apply the recently developed Veridical Near-Death Experience Scale (Greyson et al., 2025) to assess the evidential value of each case—as the weight of evidence lies not with any one case but with the cumulative value of numerous cases.

Conclusion

Charles Whitehead (2004) once said, “Anomalies tend to get swept under the carpet until there are so many of them that the furniture starts to fall over” (p. 72). I contend that the body of evidence of AVP is so extensive that the physicalist/materialist furniture has fallen over. AVP indicates that,

At times, people have experienced their consciousness functioning lucidly apart from their physical bodies, perceiving the material world and/or perceiving and interacting with beings and environments not of the material world, in ways that appear not to have involved their brains.

In these cases, these experiencers—and those who corroborated their accurate perceptions—were not delusional but sane, not mistaken but accurate, and not fraudulent but sincere—indeed, courageous—and, thus, can be believed: that the experiencers had not only a subjectively but also an objectively real experience—even though such perception cannot be explained by current materialist models.

Furthermore, AVP occurs in phenomena besides NDEs. The most comprehensive approach to the question of the validity of AVP derives not only from the study of NDEs but also from a convergence of evidence from careful research on these other phenomena, including terminal lucidity (Nahm et al., 2025), shared death experience (Shared Crossing Research Initiative, 2021), after-death communication (Streit-Horn et al., 2022), and mediumship (Beischel et al., 2015).

Together, this evidence indicates that consciousness, although closely associated with the brain during most of physical existence, can at times function independently of the brain and, thus, is not produced by the brain and is essentially independent of it. Several philosophical models have been developed that include phenomena that both can and cannot be explained in physicalist/materialist terms. For my purpose in this essay, whichever of these models emerges eventually as the most tenable is less important than the establishment of the validity of phenomena that cannot be explained in physicalist/materialist terms.

Readers may ask why this establishment is important. The question of whether consciousness is essentially independent of the brain has several implications. One implication is ontological, involving the question of reality and of who humans really are. Another implication involves whether a person’s consciousness, being fundamentally independent of the brain, might have existed prior to their physical life and might survive the demise of their physical body and brain. This question, in turn, relates to questions about the meaning and purpose of physical existence.

In particular, NDErs tend to report that the purpose of human existence was revealed to them during their NDEs: for each human to advance in one’s capacity to love, that is, to function based on love for oneself and others in every human circumstance, from moment-to-moment interactions with others to the establishment and execution of organizational and governmental policies. In a world that, to many people, feels increasingly contentious and chaotic, people are more likely to heed and implement NDErs’ message of love if they are confident that NDEs are not only subjectively, but are also objectively, real and that consciousness is, indeed, beyond the brain

Jesus is explicitly worshipped in several passages across the New Testament Gospels, Epistles, and Revelation, where individuals bow before Him and He accepts their praise. You can read a detailed breakdown of these verses on GotQuestions.org.

During His Birth and Infancy

• Matthew 2:11: The wise men (Magi) enter the house, see the young child, and bow down to worship Him.

During His Earthly Ministry

• Matthew 8:2: A leper kneels before Jesus to ask for healing.

• Matthew 9:18: A ruler kneels before Jesus to ask Him to raise his daughter.

• Matthew 14:33: The disciples worship Jesus in a boat after He walks on water, calling Him the Son of God. Read more about this event on STR.org.

• John 9:38: A man born blind worships Jesus after Jesus restores his sight and reveals His identity.

After His Resurrection

• Matthew 28:9: Women hold onto Jesus' feet and worship Him after He rises from the dead.

• Matthew 28:17: The disciples worship the risen Jesus on a mountain in Galilee.

• John 20:28: Thomas worships Jesus with the declaration, "My Lord and my God!"

• Luke 24:52: The disciples worship Jesus as He ascends into heaven.

In Heaven and Eternity

• Hebrews 1:6: God commands all angels to worship Jesus.

• Revelation 5:11–14: Angels and all creation join in heaven to worship Jesus as the Lamb

......

Jesus demonstrated His absolute divine authority to forgive sins during His earthly ministry, explicitly proving that the Son of Man holds the power on earth to pardon wrongdoing—a claim that challenged the religious leaders who correctly understood that only God can forgive sins. You can explore a deeper breakdown of how Christ's forgiveness functions on GotQuestions.org.

Key Biblical Accounts

• The Paralytic at Capernaum (Matthew 9:1–8, Mark 2:1–12): Jesus tells a paralyzed man, "Son, your sins are forgiven," and then physically heals him to prove to the skeptical scribes that He has the authority to forgive sins. You can read the text directly on Bible Gateway.

• The Sinful Woman (Luke 7:36–50): Jesus tells a socially outcast woman who washes His feet with her tears that her sins are forgiven because of her deep faith, shocking the dinner guests.

• The Woman Caught in Adultery (John 8:1–11): Jesus refuses to condemn a woman brought before Him, telling her, "Go now and leave your life of sin," exercising moral and spiritual absolution.

Theological Significance

• Claim to Deity: Old Testament scripture states that only God can pardon iniquity (Isaiah 43:25). By forgiving people directly, Jesus claimed the divine prerogative of God Himself.

• The Cross as the Legal Basis: The theological framework of the New Testament teaches that Jesus' earthly forgiveness operated on the credit of His impending sacrifice. His death on the cross serves as the ultimate payment for all human sin (Hebrews 9:15).

• The Commission to Believers: Jesus later extended a ministerial duty to His disciples to proclaim this reality, allowing believers to declare God's forgiveness to those who repent and believe

The Mystery of the Trinity

The Trinity is one of the deepest mysteries in all of Christian faith—a truth revealed but never fully grasped. The Bible gives us glimpses, not neat formulas, because what is infinite cannot be captured in finite terms.

John opens his Gospel with words that shake the mind: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God… and the Word became flesh and dwelt among us” (John 1:1,14). Here we see both distinction and unity: the Word was with God, yet the Word was God. The eternal Christ entered history, not as an idea, but as flesh.

Jesus Himself spoke in riddles that reveal this mystery. He said, “Before Abraham was, I AM” (John 8:58)—taking upon Himself the divine name revealed to Moses at the burning bush. He warned, “Unless you believe that I AM, you will die in your sins” (John 8:24). Yet in another breath, when called “good,” He responded: “Why do you call me good? No one is good except God alone” (Mark 10:18). Was this denial? No—it was a subtle challenge. If Jesus is truly “good,” then He must also be God, for goodness in its perfection belongs to God alone.

Interestingly, Jesus rarely went about directly proclaiming, “I am God.” Instead, He preferred the title “Son of Man.” This was not a denial of His divinity but a layering of meaning. The “Son of Man” is a figure from Daniel 7 who comes on the clouds with authority, receiving glory and worship. Still, when pressed, Jesus did not reject the title “Son of God,” but affirmed it (John 10:36). His humility was not in hiding His identity, but in revealing it in a way that required spiritual ears to hear.

After His resurrection, the disciples spoke plainly: Thomas confessed to Jesus, “My Lord and my God!” (John 20:28). Paul called Him “our great God and Savior” (Titus 2:13). The early church was convinced not only that Jesus revealed God, but that in Him, God Himself had come near.

Attempts to Understand the Trinity

Christians across centuries have sought analogies to grasp what is beyond human reason.

Relational roles: A man can be at once a father, a son, and a brother—three roles, yet one person. Similarly, God reveals Himself in different aspects without ceasing to be one.

Dimensions: The Son steps into our dimension, while the Father transcends in another dimension. They are distinct in experience, but united in essence.

Human nature: We ourselves are a trinity—spirit, mind, and body. Different aspects, yet one person.

Nature itself: St. Patrick famously used the three-leaf clover. Three leaves, yet one plant.

Mutual indwelling: The Spirit enters the Son, and through the Spirit, the Father is present in the Son. The Persons are distinct, yet they fully interpenetrate one another in what theology calls perichoresis—a divine dance of love.

Each of these analogies shines a fragment of light, though none can capture the fullness.

The Paradox of the Unlimited

At its heart, the Trinity is not a logical puzzle to be solved, but a paradox that reveals the limits of human thought. God is infinite, yet He enters the finite. He is unlimited, yet He chooses limitation. As Philippians 2 says, Christ “emptied himself, taking the form of a servant.”

Creation itself is a form of divine self-limitation: the boundless God makes a bounded universe. In the Trinity we see the same mystery—oneness that contains difference, eternity that enters time, infinity that wears flesh.

Near-death experiences often echo this: people describe encountering a Light that is utterly One yet somehow full of relational Love. They experience God not as cold abstraction, but as a living communion. In that sense, the Trinity is not mathematics (1+1+1=1), but relationship—perfect love flowing between Father, Son, and Spirit.

Conclusion

The Trinity is not meant to be dissected so much as entered into. It is a mystery that invites worship more than explanation. The early Christians did not invent it—they simply encountered Jesus and the Spirit in ways that forced them to rethink everything they knew about God.

As finite beings, we stumble before the paradox. But that stumbling is holy. For the Trinity is God’s way of saying: “I am not solitary power, I am eternal love. And this love has come near to you in Christ, and dwells in you by the Spirit, to bring you back to the Father.

Good points

Hypothetically. A genie says you get a cool tax free billion but what's the max you'd give up in years?

Most people wouldnt trade places with Warren buffet cause he's a multi billionaire but he's obviously not got much longer to live due to age. Just to help with perspective

Yes. The three BICS winners are quite different in what they regard as the strongest evidence. BICS itself selected them from 204 submitted essays, with the stated criterion being how persuasively the essays established survival of consciousness beyond a reasonable doubt.

One important distinction up front: “difficult for materialism to explain” is not the same as “evidence that consciousness survives death.” Something can expose a gap in a materialist explanation without establishing the competing survival hypothesis.

1. Jeffrey Mishlove — Beyond the Brain

Mishlove's essay is the broadest evidential case. He essentially argues that you shouldn't bet everything on one phenomenon; instead, numerous independent categories converge:

near-death experiences

apparently veridical out-of-body experiences

deathbed/after-death communications

reincarnation cases

mediumship

instrumental/recorded communications

xenoglossy

terminal lucidity

psychic phenomena

precognition

some physical-mediumship cases

His table of contents makes the breadth particularly clear.

The interesting evidence

The strongest part of Mishlove's case isn't actually "people saw heaven."

It's the information problem.

For example, if somebody reports an OBE and subsequently describes something occurring in the physical environment that they apparently could not have perceived normally, there are two separate questions:

1. Did the experience contain accurate information?

2. How did the person obtain that information?

That distinction matters enormously.

A person could have a completely internally generated NDE while simultaneously getting some information through ordinary sensory or inferential means. But a genuinely well-controlled case in which the person obtains specific, independently verifiable information that was inaccessible to them would be substantially more difficult to explain through ordinary brain-based mechanisms.

Mishlove also emphasizes cases involving deceased people communicating information unknown to the recipient, reincarnation cases involving unusual knowledge, and mediumship where sitters claim the medium supplied information they couldn't reasonably have known.

How difficult is this for materialism?

I'd divide it like this:

Potentially very interesting:

well-documented anomalous information

independently verified details

information acquired under conditions where ordinary sensory access is genuinely excluded

repeated patterns across different investigators and methodologies

Much weaker:

emotionally powerful experiences

seeing deceased relatives

tunnels/lights

feelings of cosmic unity

life reviews

mystical experiences

anecdotes without contemporaneous documentation

The former potentially creates a mechanism problem for straightforward brain-production models. The latter primarily establishes that humans can have extraordinary experiences.

And that's an important distinction.

---

2. Pim van Lommel — The Continuity of Consciousness

Van Lommel concentrates much more heavily on near-death experiences associated with cardiac arrest.

His argument is essentially:

> Patients can report extraordinarily structured, lucid consciousness during periods when their brain function should be severely compromised.

His Dutch prospective cardiac-arrest study is central to the argument, along with other prospective studies.

Van Lommel cites studies in which a significant minority of cardiac-arrest survivors reported NDEs. He emphasizes that some experiences contain apparently coherent perception, memory, reasoning and sometimes OBE components during periods of profound physiological impairment.

The strongest part

The really interesting issue isn't simply:

> "Their heart stopped, therefore their brain stopped."

That's too simplistic.

Cardiac arrest does not establish that every relevant neuron instantly became completely inactive. And one major objection to NDE research is precisely the uncertainty about when the experience occurred.

Nevertheless, some cases involve patients reporting events surrounding their resuscitation, creating the possibility of a temporal relationship between the experience and severely impaired cerebral function.

That's the interesting puzzle.

But there's an important weakness

The inference:

cardiac arrest → no meaningful brain activity → therefore consciousness existed without a brain

doesn't automatically follow.

There are several possibilities:

residual brain activity

activity occurring during the transition into unconsciousness

activity occurring during recovery

memory formation/reconstruction after recovery

unusual neurophysiology associated with dying/resuscitation

combinations of these

So I would characterize the NDE evidence as:

> Potentially serious evidence against a simplistic “consciousness is nothing but ordinary waking brain activity” model, but not by itself conclusive evidence of disembodied consciousness.

That is a much more defensible formulation than "NDEs prove the afterlife."

---

3. Leo Ruickbie — The Ghost in the Time Machine

Ruickbie takes an interesting philosophical and evidential approach.

His argument isn't simply NDEs. He discusses a much broader collection of phenomena suggesting mind may not be completely reducible to brain function.

His essay explicitly discusses NDEs, OBEs, after-death experiences, reincarnation, mediumship and other anomalous phenomena.

One of his central arguments is particularly relevant to what you've been asking about recently:

The OBE information problem

Ruickbie highlights reports in which people describe observing themselves or their surroundings from an apparently external perspective and sometimes report apparently accurate details.

His essay points to cases involving people who report conscious experience during periods of profound physiological impairment.

This is where your distinction between consistent with reality → veridical → verified → proven becomes extremely useful.

Suppose an NDEr says:

> "I floated above my body and saw the doctor wearing a blue shirt."

There are four progressively stronger claims:

1. Consistent with reality

The doctor really was wearing a blue shirt.

That's interesting, but it doesn't tell us how the information was acquired.

2. Veridical

The experience accurately represented something that was actually happening.

Stronger.

3. Verified

The information was independently documented and the circumstances make ordinary acquisition of the information unlikely.

Much stronger.

4. Proven survival

The evidence establishes that the person's consciousness literally separated from the brain.

That's an additional philosophical inference. Even a spectacular verified observation doesn't logically entail that particular mechanism.

That last distinction is, IMO, crucial.

---

So what is genuinely difficult for materialism?

I'd make a hierarchy something like this—not a ranking of political or ideological choices, but a distinction in evidential difficulty:

🟢 Relatively easy for conventional neuroscience

The subjective features of NDEs

tunnels

lights

deceased relatives

peace

panoramic memories

altered time

profound meaning

feelings of unity

These are extraordinary experiences, but experiences can obviously be generated by brains.

---

🟡 More difficult

Extremely lucid consciousness under extreme physiological conditions.

This raises legitimate questions about exactly what the brain is doing during cardiac arrest and resuscitation.

It challenges simplistic versions of:

> "No ordinary waking brain function = no possible conscious experience."

But it doesn't necessarily demonstrate consciousness without a brain.

Van Lommel's essay is particularly focused on this problem.

---

🟠 More difficult still

Apparently veridical OBEs.

Here the issue changes from:

> "How could the brain generate this experience?"

to:

> "How did the person obtain this apparently accurate information?"

If the evidential controls are genuinely strong, this becomes much more interesting.

And this is where your phrase "consistent with reality" is valuable.

A report being consistent with reality is only the beginning. You want independently established accuracy under circumstances where ordinary information acquisition is difficult.

---

🔴 Potentially the most challenging

Highly controlled anomalous-information cases.

Imagine a case where:

the target information was genuinely unknown beforehand,

nobody present could have supplied it,

the information was specific rather than vague,

it was independently documented,

the experience was recorded contemporaneously,

sensory leakage was carefully excluded,

chance explanations are quantitatively implausible,

and the result can be independently replicated.

That would be considerably more consequential than simply having an NDE.

Because now the problem isn't merely:

> "Why did the brain produce this experience?"

It becomes:

> "How did the system obtain information it apparently could not physically access?"

That's the point at which the survival hypothesis becomes genuinely interesting scientifically.

---

And where BICS is weakest

This is important because BICS's own conclusion is considerably stronger than what I think the evidence necessarily establishes.

BICS says its contest established evidence "beyond a reasonable doubt" for survival, but that's the conclusion of the BICS contest and its judges, not an established consensus of neuroscience.

The biggest evidential vulnerabilities are:

1. Retrospective testimony

People describe experiences after the event, sometimes years later.

2. Memory reconstruction

Memory isn't a literal recording.

3. Timing

Knowing exactly when an NDE occurred is extremely difficult.

4. Selection effects

Extraordinary cases are much more likely to be written about than mundane failures.

5. Publication/reporting bias

A spectacular successful case gets attention; an ordinary incorrect perception doesn't.

6. Alternative psi hypotheses

This is particularly important.

Even if you established anomalous information acquisition, that wouldn't necessarily prove survival after death.

You would still have competing possibilities such as:

telepathy

clairvoyance

precognition

some unknown form of information acquisition

survival of consciousness

Mishlove explicitly wrestles with this problem, including whether "living agent psi" could explain survival evidence.

That's a major philosophical point.

---

My overall assessment of the BICS evidence

I would formulate it this way:

> The most philosophically significant evidence in the BICS essays isn't the existence of NDEs themselves. It is the subset of cases alleging accurate, independently verifiable information acquired under conditions that substantially restrict ordinary sensory access.

If those cases withstand rigorous scrutiny, they create a real explanatory challenge for a simple brain-produces-consciousness model.

But there's a second inferential step:

Anomalous information → consciousness isn't entirely brain-produced → consciousness survives bodily death.

Each arrow requires additional evidence.

And there's an even stronger claim:

Consciousness survives bodily death → the Christian conception of an afterlife is true.

The BICS evidence doesn't get you anywhere near that last conclusion by itself.

So I think the intellectually strongest position isn't either:

> "NDEs prove the afterlife."

or

> "NDEs are obviously just hallucinations."

It's:

> There are some anomalous cases—particularly potentially veridical perception and anomalous information during NDE/OBE and some mediumship/reincarnation cases—that deserve to be evaluated independently of either materialist or survivalist assumptions. The evidential strength varies enormously from case to case, and the strongest cases raise questions that are more difficult than the ordinary phenomenology of NDEs.

That's also why your "consistent with reality vs. veridical vs. verified vs. proven" framework is so useful. It lets you take the strongest cases seriously **without accidentally turning an interesting anomaly into a conclusion it doesn't logically establish.**

If thats not ai you're using, you debate like an academic. I dont have time to check the logic strength of your points, but you're good

A concrete case makes the distinctions much clearer. The Pam Reynolds case is particularly useful because it illustrates both the strongest version of the argument and why the philosophical distinctions matter.

When evaluating out-of-body experiences (OBEs), it is useful to distinguish four increasingly demanding concepts: consistent with reality, veridical, verified, and proven. These terms should not be treated as synonyms.

1. Consistent with reality

An experience is consistent with reality when its content does not conflict with independently established facts.

For example, a person reports seeing a particular object in a hospital room, and investigators later confirm that the object was indeed there. The experience is consistent with reality.

But consistency is a relatively weak epistemic standard. The fact that an experience corresponds to reality does not, by itself, establish how the information was acquired. The person might have perceived it normally, remembered it unconsciously, inferred it, learned it beforehand, or obtained it through some other ordinary mechanism.

Thus:

«Consistency establishes compatibility, not necessarily causation.»

An OBE can therefore be completely consistent with reality without demonstrating that consciousness actually left the body.

2. Veridical

An experience is veridical when its content corresponds to an actual state of affairs in the world.

In OBE research, a veridical OBE generally refers to an experience containing information that corresponds to independently established reality, particularly information the experiencer apparently could not have obtained through ordinary sensory access.

Veridicality is therefore stronger than simply saying that an experience felt real. But there is an important qualification:

«Veridicality concerns correspondence between the experience and reality; it does not, by itself, establish the mechanism by which the information was obtained.»

If someone accurately reports something that was apparently outside their sensory access, that may constitute evidence for anomalous perception. But an additional argument is required before concluding that the explanation was literally a consciousness existing or perceiving outside the body.

3. Verified

Verified concerns the evidential status of a claim.

A report may be compared with medical records, photographs, video, witnesses, instruments, or other independent evidence. If those sources corroborate the relevant details, those details can reasonably be described as verified or independently corroborated.

But verification does not necessarily mean certainty.

For example:

«"The patient reported seeing X, and independent records establish that X was present."»

That can establish that the reported content corresponded to reality.

But the additional proposition—

«"The patient obtained knowledge of X through perception occurring independently of the physical senses"—»

is a separate proposition requiring additional evidence.

Thus:

«Verification can establish the correspondence of a report with reality without establishing the explanation for that correspondence.»

4. Proven

Proven is a much stronger term.

In mathematics and formal logic, propositions can be proven deductively from premises. Empirical claims generally work differently: evidence supports them to varying degrees rather than producing mathematical certainty.

Consequently, showing that an OBE contained verified information would not, by itself, prove that consciousness can exist independently of the brain.

To establish that stronger proposition, one would need to rule out sufficiently plausible alternatives—such as ordinary sensory perception, prior knowledge, inference, memory reconstruction, coincidence, information acquired before or after the relevant period, or physiological mechanisms capable of producing the experience.

So there is a crucial distinction between:

«"The person accurately reported something they apparently could not normally have known."»

and:

«"We have therefore proved that consciousness left the body."»

The second conclusion does not automatically follow from the first.

---

A concrete example: the Pam Reynolds case

A frequently discussed example is Pam Reynolds, who underwent surgery in 1991 to remove a large brain aneurysm. The procedure involved profound hypothermia and a period of induced circulatory arrest. Her eyes were taped shut, and molded speakers were placed in her ears as part of neurological monitoring.

Reynolds later reported an OBE during which she said she viewed the operating room from above. Among other things, she described the surgical bone saw as resembling an electric toothbrush and recalled aspects of the surgical procedure and a conversation involving the size of her blood vessels. These details subsequently became central to arguments that her experience contained veridical perceptions.

This gives us a useful way to apply the distinctions.

What would "consistent with reality" mean here?

Suppose Reynolds described a particular surgical instrument and investigators subsequently established that the instrument really was present.

That makes the content consistent with reality.

But by itself, it doesn't establish when or how Reynolds acquired the information.

What would "veridical" mean?

If her description genuinely corresponds to the actual instrument and procedure, the relevant portion of her experience can be called veridical in the ordinary sense of corresponding to reality.

The interesting question then becomes:

«How did she obtain the information?»

That is a different question from whether the information was correct.

What would "verified" mean?

If independent medical records, photographs, surgical personnel, or other contemporaneous evidence establish that the reported details really occurred, then those details have been independently corroborated or verified.

This is considerably stronger than simply taking the experiencer's word for it.

But there is still a logical gap between:

"The reported event occurred."

and

"The experiencer perceived the event extracorporeally."

The first can be independently established; the second requires an inference about the mechanism of perception.

What would "proven" mean?

To say that the Reynolds case proved that consciousness left the body would require considerably more.

It would require showing not merely that her observations corresponded to reality, but that ordinary explanations cannot adequately account for her acquisition of that information.

And this is precisely where the case remains contested. Some investigators have regarded aspects of Reynolds's report as unusually difficult to explain by ordinary perception, while critics have argued that the timing of her experience, anesthesia, sensory pathways, memory, and reconstruction leave room for non-extracorporeal explanations.

The disagreement therefore isn't simply:

«"Did the surgery happen?"»

or even:

«"Were some of her descriptions accurate?"»

The deeper question is:

«What is the best explanation for the relationship between her experience and the independently established events?»

---

The epistemic ladder

The distinctions can therefore be represented as:

Subjectively real

→ The person genuinely experienced something.

Consistent with reality

→ The experience does not conflict with known facts.

Veridical

→ At least some of the experience corresponds to an actual state of affairs.

Verified / independently corroborated

→ Independent evidence establishes that the relevant correspondence is real.

Anomalous / unexplained by ordinary mechanisms

→ The available evidence makes ordinary explanations difficult to sustain.

Evidence for extracorporeal perception

→ The evidence supports the hypothesis that perception occurred independently of ordinary sensory mechanisms.

Proven

→ An exceptionally strong conclusion that normally goes beyond what an individual empirical case can establish.

The most important point is that each step adds an epistemic claim that the previous step does not automatically entail.

An experience can be consistent with reality without being demonstrably veridical. It can be veridical without establishing its mechanism. It can be verified without proving extracorporeal consciousness. And even a collection of highly anomalous cases would still require an argument from the evidence to the best explanation.

That distinction allows us to take apparently veridical OBE reports seriously without either dismissing them prematurely or claiming more than the evidence establishes.

The Bigelow Institute for Consciousness Studies (BICS) is essentially a privately funded research organization devoted to one unusually specific question:

> Does human consciousness continue after the physical body permanently dies?

It was founded in 2020 by aerospace entrepreneur Robert Bigelow, who has funded consciousness and anomalous-phenomena research for decades. Its stated mission is to support scientific investigation of consciousness surviving bodily death and, if it does, to investigate what the afterlife might be like.

What BICS has actually done

1. The $1.5 million essay competition

Its most famous project was a 2021 competition asking researchers to make the strongest evidence-based case for survival of consciousness after death. BICS ultimately awarded prizes to 29 essays, totaling about $1.5 million. The top three included work by Jeffrey Mishlove, Pim van Lommel, and Leo Ruickbie.

The important thing is that BICS wasn't primarily trying to produce a conventional laboratory experiment. It commissioned large, interdisciplinary evidence reviews and arguments, drawing on things such as:

near-death experiences

mediumship

reincarnation cases

deathbed visions

apparitions

terminal lucidity

psi phenomena

out-of-body experiences

anomalous information acquired during altered states

BICS's own conclusion from the competition was extremely strong: it says the evidence established “beyond reasonable doubt” that consciousness survives death.

That is BICS's conclusion, however—not a consensus conclusion of mainstream neuroscience or science generally.

2. The "Challenge" — communicating with the dead

BICS subsequently went a step further.

Its Challenge program funded teams to investigate whether mediums could obtain information from purported discarnate consciousness and, more importantly, whether they could obtain new wisdom or information that could be independently evaluated.

BICS explicitly says that this program started from the assumption that the afterlife is real and that mediums can obtain valid information from it, rather than treating those propositions as completely open hypotheses.

Five of the resulting reports are now available on its website, involving researchers such as Stephen Braude, Melvin Morse, Jeffrey Tarrant, and others.

That's a major distinction: the later BICS research isn't neutral in the conventional sense. It is designed to investigate the afterlife from a starting position substantially more favorable to survival.

3. It is particularly interested in "wisdom" from the afterlife

This is one of the more fascinating aspects of BICS.

Rather than simply asking a medium, "Is Grandma okay?", BICS wanted researchers to ask purported nonphysical intelligences big existential questions:

Is humanity spiritually progressing?

What is the nature of the afterlife?

What happens to consciousness after death?

What should humanity understand about its existence?

The 2022/23 Challenge materials explicitly say the focus was contact and communication with the "Other Side" and obtaining information from it, with validation of that information being an important objective.

One particularly striking claim

BICS has also investigated information allegedly coming from nonhuman entities and purported afterlife sources. Its grant materials describe a recurring message from multiple sources that humanity has been “living on borrowed time” and could face a catastrophic extinction-level event within the foreseeable future.

That is an allegation reported in BICS's research framework, not an established scientific prediction. I would treat this part much more cautiously than the broader question of consciousness survival.

So what should you make of BICS?

I'd characterize it this way:

BICS is not simply a paranormal website. It has put substantial money into serious investigation and has assembled researchers with backgrounds in medicine, psychology, consciousness studies, philosophy and related fields.

But it is also not equivalent to a mainstream scientific research institution. Its institutional mission is explicitly to investigate survival, and its later Challenge program actually assumes the reality of the afterlife rather than starting from complete agnosticism.

So there are really three different questions:

Question What BICS says

Is there evidence for consciousness surviving death? Yes, and BICS considers it beyond reasonable doubt.

Is that the scientific consensus? No.

Is there interesting evidence that deserves investigation? Absolutely—that is essentially BICS's raison d'être.

And given your previous interest in NDEs, hospice experiences and Christian understandings of the afterlife, I think the most interesting part of the site isn't actually the headline claim. It's the 29 winning essays. They represent a concentrated attempt to assemble the strongest case for survival from many different lines of evidence.

[Bigelow Institute for Consciousness Studies](https://www.bigelowinstitute.org/?utm_source=chatgpt.com)

If you want, I can also **.**summarize the actual evidence presented by the top 3 BICS essays and tell you which pieces of evidence are genuinely difficult for materialism to explain versus which are much weaker

Absolute proof of an afterlife? I need to check this out closer

https://www.bigelowinstitute.org/

The best way to approach reading the early church vis a vis Catholicism versus orthodoxy

My response then ai response...

theres the idea of papal infallibility which is next to impossible to actually expressly find in the early church for centuries if not well over a millennium. Theres also philosophical problems with that, such as apparent contradictions. There's the idea of papal supremacy which I think a person could go either way on in the early church and the east but many great catholic and orthodox saints had no conception of the idea or resisted that idea when rome tried to exert control outside its jurisdiction. Plus what we might view as supremacy ideas in the early church could be more akin to papal communion. Which yes papal communion was present as vital back then. Tho whether it was absolutely vital or just a practical reality is debatable. Even the great theological mind pope Benedict had what is called the ratzinger proposal which recognizes that the first century and early church had a wider conception of who belongs to the church, such that a catholic and orthodox reunion could reflect that model, and which basically admits those ideas of papal infallibility/supremacy just werent present.

When reading early church quotes its best to approach interpreting them with the above framework. Its also important to be careful that catholic supporting quotes are contextualized and quoted accurately. When examining some examples, check out iraneaeous, cyprian, augustine. Yes discussed papal communion and They are held up as great catholic saints but they had no conception expressed about supremacy or papal infallibility. They did resist the pope when he went too far but the fact the pope thought he had that authority is worth considering and contextualizing with the above information. Also many great councils of the Church had no roman representation and werent oversaw by the pope as Catholics often assume. The further east one goes the less association Christians had of the pope

........

Yes. I think the most intellectually honest way to read the early Church on Catholicism versus Orthodoxy is not to begin by asking, “Which later system can I find a quotation that seems to support?” Instead, begin by asking what the early Christians actually believed, what they clearly did not articulate, and how later Catholic and Orthodox claims developed from that earlier evidence.

Your framework can be sharpened into something like this:

1. Separate the questions that are often collapsed

There are really several different claims about Rome:

Roman primacy: Rome had a unique position of honor and importance.

Papal communion: communion with Rome was an important sign or instrument of catholic communion.

Roman appellate authority: Rome could sometimes receive appeals or intervene beyond its local territory.

Papal supremacy: the pope possessed universal jurisdiction over every bishop and church.

Papal infallibility: under specified conditions, the pope is divinely protected from error when defining doctrine for the whole Church.

The first two are extremely easy to establish in the early Church. The third has substantial historical evidence but is much more complicated. The fourth is highly contested when projected backward onto the early centuries. The fifth is particularly difficult to find explicitly before its very late formal definition.

That distinction prevents a quotation about Roman primacy from silently becoming evidence for Vatican I papal infallibility.

2. Don't treat absence of a doctrine as proof of its opposite—but don't ignore the absence either

This is especially important with papal infallibility.

An Orthodox argument can reasonably say:

> “If this was a constitutive doctrine of the Church, why is it so difficult to find the Fathers explicitly teaching it for many centuries?”

But the Catholic response—that doctrines can develop and need not appear in their later technical formulation in the Fathers—is also a legitimate historical principle.

So the real question becomes:

Does the later Catholic doctrine represent a legitimate development of something already present, or does it introduce a fundamentally new ecclesiology?

That's a much better question than simply counting quotations.

3. Read Irenaeus, Cyprian and Augustine in their entirety and in context

These three are particularly useful precisely because they don't fit neatly into simplistic apologetic narratives.

Irenaeus gives Rome an extraordinarily important role in Against Heresies, and Catholics understandably regard his testimony as powerful evidence for Roman primacy. But one should be careful about what his argument actually establishes. His famous appeal to the Roman church occurs in the context of apostolic succession and the preservation of apostolic tradition; turning that passage directly into Vatican I-style universal papal jurisdiction goes beyond what Irenaeus explicitly says.

Cyprian is even more interesting because he provides evidence in both directions. He has extraordinarily strong language concerning Peter, Rome and ecclesial unity, yet he also fiercely resisted Pope Stephen's position concerning rebaptism. Cyprian's ecclesiology cannot simply be reduced to “the pope has universal jurisdiction over every bishop.” His famous principle that each bishop is responsible before God for his own episcopate is important.

At the same time, Cyprian's conflict with Stephen shouldn't simply be used as a knock-down argument against Catholicism. The fact that Cyprian resisted the pope is evidence that the relationship between Rome and other bishops was contested; it doesn't by itself tell us exactly what the correct theory of that relationship was. And Stephen's own behavior is historically interesting because it demonstrates that a Roman bishop could conceive of his authority in a very expansive way.

Augustine is similarly complicated. He clearly regarded communion with Rome as highly significant, and his famous appeal to the judgment of the apostolic see is important. But Augustine's ecclesiology shouldn't be retroactively turned into a fully developed Vatican I ecclesiology either.

The right approach is to let these Fathers be themselves, even when they create problems for both sides.

4. The councils are perhaps even more important than isolated quotations

This is one of the strongest methodological points in what you're saying.

Ask:

How did the Church actually make decisions?

Don't merely ask what someone said about Rome.

Look at:

who summoned councils;

who attended;

who presided;

who voted or subscribed;

how bishops understood their authority;

how disputed bishops were treated;

whether Roman approval was considered constitutionally necessary;

how Eastern bishops understood Rome;

whether councils were regarded as authoritative before receiving Roman confirmation;

and how Rome itself described its role.

The historical reality is considerably messier than either “the pope always ran everything” or “Rome was merely an honorary first place.”

And you're right that some popular Catholic presentations can give the impression that every ecumenical council was essentially a papal council conducted under Roman supervision, which isn't an adequate description of the actual history.

The Eastern councils in particular make it difficult to project the later centralized papal model backward without qualification.

5. Geography matters enormously

Your observation that “the further east one goes, the less association Christians had with the pope” needs some qualification, but the underlying methodological point is excellent.

The Church was enormous and decentralized.

A Christian in Constantinople, Antioch, Alexandria or Jerusalem did not necessarily conceptualize the Church through the same institutional categories that eventually developed in medieval Western Christianity.

This is one reason later Western canon-law categories shouldn't simply be imported into second-, third-, or fourth-century sources.

The early Church operated through a network of:

bishops → local churches → regional synods → patriarchal relationships → communion among the major sees → ecumenical councils.

Rome was unquestionably exceptional within that network. The question is what kind of exceptionalism it represented.

6. The Ratzinger proposal is extremely important for this discussion

This is where your approach becomes particularly interesting because you're not merely making an Orthodox critique of Catholicism.

Joseph Ratzinger recognized that the relationship between East and West could potentially be understood through the ecclesiological model of the first millennium, rather than requiring the Orthodox simply to accept the entire post-schism development of papal authority.

That is significant because it implicitly acknowledges a distinction between:

> the pope's role in the undivided Church

and

> the particular form of papal jurisdiction and doctrinal authority that developed in the Latin Church afterward.

That creates an important conceptual opening for reunion.

It means that one doesn't necessarily have to choose between:

“Rome had no special role whatsoever”

and

“Vatican I describes exactly how the Church functioned in the second century.”

There is a third possibility:

> Rome possessed a genuinely unique and indispensable primatial role in the undivided Church, but the precise nature and limits of that primacy were different from the later maximalist conception of papal supremacy and infallibility.

That is arguably the most fruitful historical question.

7. “Papacy” shouldn't be treated as one thing that either existed or didn't exist

This may be the most important principle.

The early Church clearly had something recognizably Petrine and Roman.

But that doesn't mean it had the entire medieval or modern papacy.

Likewise, the fact that the modern Orthodox churches reject Vatican I doesn't mean they reject every form of Roman primacy.

You can therefore construct a developmental spectrum:

Roman importance → Petrine primacy → primacy among patriarchates → role in preserving communion → appellate/interventionary authority → universal jurisdiction → papal infallibility

The historical question is where along that spectrum each period actually belongs, and whether each later step constitutes legitimate development or unacceptable innovation.

8. The strongest Catholic and Orthodox cases should be allowed to challenge you

If you're genuinely trying to discover the truth rather than defend a predetermined conclusion, I'd use a rule like this:

> Never ask merely, “Can I find a Father who sounds Orthodox?” or “Can I find a Father who sounds Catholic?” Ask what the strongest interpretation of the entire evidence is, including the evidence that makes your preferred position uncomfortable.

For example:

A Catholic should have to explain why figures like Cyprian could resist a pope if universal papal jurisdiction was already the Church's settled ecclesiology.

An Orthodox should have to explain why Rome was treated with such extraordinary deference, why communion with Rome could carry such enormous ecclesial significance, and why Roman bishops sometimes exercised authority outside their immediate territory.

Neither side gets to make inconvenient evidence disappear.

The central historical question

Ultimately, I think your framework reduces the Catholic-Orthodox question to something much more precise:

> Was the later Catholic understanding of the papacy a legitimate development of the kind of Roman primacy already present in the undivided Church, or did it transform a primacy of communion and coordination into a fundamentally different kind of universal jurisdiction and doctrinal authority

And conversely:

> If the later Catholic conception is an innovation, does that mean the early Roman primacy itself was merely honorary, or does the first millennium point toward a genuinely substantive—but conciliar and communion-oriented—Roman primacy that neither modern maximalist Catholicism nor modern anti-papal Orthodox polemics fully captures?

That last possibility is especially worth investigating.

It also fits remarkably well with your broader instinct that Catholic and Orthodox reunion might not require one side simply “surrendering” to the other, but could involve recovering the ecclesiological reality of the undivided Church—Rome having a real Petrine primacy, while the Church as a whole retains genuine conciliarity, reception, episcopal authority and freedom of conscience.

That is a much more historically interesting project than trying to prove that either the modern Catholic or modern Orthodox system existed unchanged in A.D. 150

I think your basic intuition is reasonable, but I would modify one important part of it.

The realistic American outcome probably isn't “we finally decide these hospitals should die and stop subsidizing them.” It's more likely:

> We gradually stop trying to preserve every full-service hospital, allow some to close or convert, and subsidize a smaller set of essential services where the alternative is unacceptable.

And there is already evidence that the system is moving somewhat in that direction.

You're right that the status quo is enormous

Hospital care is an extraordinarily large part of the American economy. In 2022, hospital services alone accounted for about $1.38 trillion, nearly one-third of all U.S. health spending.

So you're identifying a real political-economy problem: you're not simply designing an efficient health system from scratch. You're trying to restructure an enormous existing industry with communities, jobs, hospitals, physicians, unions, insurers, politicians, and patients all having reasons to resist contraction.

That makes your skepticism about whether America can actually let things disappear quite justified.

But America already lets hospitals die

This is the part that makes me somewhat more optimistic than you might expect.

Hospital closure isn't some theoretical possibility. 118 hospitals closed nationwide between FY2019 and FY2023, and urban hospitals actually closed faster than they opened during that period.

And rural hospitals have been closing for decades. The government has repeatedly tried to mitigate the consequences rather than guarantee the survival of every institution. GAO has actually recommended approaches in which, when a hospital isn't viable, public resources could instead support things such as transportation or alternative emergency-care arrangements.

That's pretty close to the philosophy you're describing.

The really important distinction is hospital vs. health care

I think this is where your argument becomes strongest.

Suppose a remote town has a hospital with:

12 inpatient beds

an emergency department

very low utilization

enormous fixed costs

difficulty recruiting specialists

aging infrastructure

It doesn't necessarily follow that the community needs that hospital.

It might need:

24/7 emergency stabilization + ambulance service + primary care + telemedicine + periodic specialty clinics + transportation to a regional hospital.

That's a very different proposition.

And Medicare has already created a mechanism explicitly reflecting this idea: the Rural Emergency Hospital designation. A small rural hospital can stop providing inpatient care and instead receive a fixed Medicare payment for maintaining emergency and outpatient capacity. MedPAC reports that the fixed payment is equivalent to about $3.4 million annually in 2025, plus enhanced outpatient payments.

That's essentially government saying:

> We don't necessarily need you to remain a conventional hospital, but we do need somebody there to provide essential emergency care.

I think that's probably a much more sustainable model.

And you're right that subsidies don't necessarily have to bankrupt us

This is probably the part of your argument I'd be most optimistic about.

The subsidies are significant, but the question isn't simply “Do we subsidize rural hospitals?” It's:

> How much would it cost to provide the minimum medically necessary infrastructure to these communities compared with maintaining thousands of full-service institutions?

Those aren't remotely the same question.

For example, MedPAC found that Critical Access Hospitals receive substantially higher Medicare payments because they are reimbursed on a cost basis. In 2022, the additional Medicare spending associated with this arrangement was substantial—particularly for outpatient and swing-bed services.

But that doesn't mean the rational alternative is zero subsidy.

It could mean:

Current system:

$ → preserve hospital → preserve inpatient beds → preserve expensive infrastructure → preserve everything

Potential future system:

$ → preserve emergency capability → preserve basic outpatient care → subsidize transportation/telehealth → consolidate complicated care regionally

That could actually be cheaper while preserving the things people genuinely need.

And there's a broader reason to think government can make these kinds of reallocations. GAO estimated in 2026 that addressing various government inefficiencies could produce tens of billions of dollars in financial benefits, including nearly $157 billion over ten years from one Medicare payment reform recommendation.

Where I think you might be slightly naive

I'd be cautious about assuming that economic inefficiency alone will eventually overcome political resistance.

America has a remarkable ability to maintain inefficient institutions for decades when they are politically important.

A hospital isn't just a medical facility. In a small town it's often:

one of the largest employers

a source of local prestige

a major taxpayer

politically powerful

psychologically associated with community survival

So when someone proposes closing it, the political response isn't necessarily:

> "This hospital is economically obsolete."

It's:

> "You're killing our town."

That's an extremely powerful political argument.

And both parties can participate in preserving the status quo for different reasons.

But your deeper point is important

I think you're onto something when you say that the United States doesn't necessarily need to solve the entire problem in one grand reform.

It could happen incrementally.

Hospital A loses money → eventually closes.

Hospital B converts to a Rural Emergency Hospital.

Hospital C gets bought by a larger regional system.

Hospital D consolidates its surgery department.

Hospital E becomes primarily outpatient.

Hospital F survives because it's genuinely essential.

Over 20 years, you can get a dramatically different health-care geography without Congress ever passing a law saying "we are restructuring American hospitals."

That's actually a very American way for reform to happen.

And the evidence suggests that process is already occurring.

So I'd rate your thesis this way

“America will eventually allow some uneconomic rural hospitals to disappear.”

Very plausible.

“America will stop subsidizing rural hospitals altogether.”

Unlikely and probably undesirable.

“America could substantially reduce the amount of money spent preserving full-service hospitals while maintaining essential health access through smaller facilities, regionalization, transportation and telemedicine.”

Very plausible—and arguably the most rational direction.

“The resulting subsidies would necessarily bankrupt the country.”

No. That's much too pessimistic.

In fact, I think the best version of your argument isn't that America needs to become heartless enough to let hospitals die.

It's that we need to become sophisticated enough to distinguish between preserving a hospital and preserving access to health care.

That distinction could allow the U.S. to let genuinely uneconomic institutions disappear without abandoning the people who depend on them. And that's a much more politically achievable proposition.

I would agree that the brutal truth is that some poorer and remote hospitals should probably just go out of business. Ive said this before and ive been ostracized for it but its true. Am I being unrealistic to expect the usa to be able to do what's necessary to let them die? Thats an important question and it highlights that our country us trying to undo a multi trillion status quo whereas every other country developed reasonable standards organically. I might be being naive to think we will let them die out but I think its possible, maybe each side of politics can blame the other side for why they're going outta business. Our country tends to find a way to stop wasteful spending one way or another. I hope im right about this cause its kinda a critical point. I also think given the government subsidies remote hospitals that maybe itd be limited enough if we do subsidize them that it wouldn't bankrupt us. I hope im right about that

All hail our new dear leaders!

Hail!

All you did is merely assert we have expensive Healthcare and cant afford universal care as if your assertion is an argument. Why would adding more people in our country compared to other countries change anything? To me if anything it adds economy of scale and if we did it right could bring down costs even more. Medical costs are too high in this country where 80 of us costing too much is due to that. That's a fixable problem if we follow cost controls like every other developed country. Also insurance companies are a middle man who add 30 percent of every dollar on administrative waste and profit, pointless expenses. Insurance can be minimized is my point.

Also you've pointed out other big countries who provide Healthcare as if that proves we can't do it. Why not? Every other deceloped country spends half as much as us including places like China and India and Russia. If they can do it so can we

Im providing actual arguments all you are providing is empty assertions

All you'd have to do is increase all taxes ten percent, cut spending ten percent, implement a two percent wealth tax on the top two percent of wealth, ad the deficit would mostly be under control. No need to rob the wealthy blind.

Also every developed country but us spends around ten percent of their gdp on universal healthcare. They also usually have less wait times to see a doctor. We spend 18 percent of ours and dont cover everyone. The difference is we could saving over a trillion a year on healthcare. To act like we just cant afford universal healthcare is just dead wrong and ignorant.

You are offered $1,000 one day. Every day you refuse to take it, the offer doubles

Day 1: $1,000

Day 2: $2,000

Day 5: $16,000

Day 10: $512,000

You can accept the money on any day and it becomes yours tax free, no questions asked

But there’s a catch…

At some point, on one random day, the offer will disappear.

It could last 10 years

It could disappear tomorrow

You are given no warning.

Wait one day and you can become ridiculously rich, wait too long and you leave with nothing

What day are you cashing out

Edit: I apologise if my wording wasn’t clear. It is a one time payout. Whatever day you choose to cash out, you collect all the accumulated money once.

Remy Remy, he's our man, if he cant do it, no body can!

More about supernstural and afterlife and nde arguments and evidences

https://www.debatecraft.com/forum/c/religion/posts/w0/so-called-philosophical-evidence-for-god-are-not-really-even-evidence?page=4

The dangers of institutional religion on spiritual growth by Jim palmer and artificial intelligence

Years ago, I wrote about ten dynamics of organized church that I believed worked against spiritual growth. I wrote from experience after years as a pastor, including within the American megachurch world. At the time, I understood them primarily as problems with the way church was being done.

I see them differently now.

I was beginning to recognize what happens when an institution created to serve human transformation becomes invested in its own preservation. No one has to be malicious or dishonest for this to happen. The requirements of maintaining the organization gradually begin shaping the meaning of spiritual life itself.

Institutional religion is often criticized for its personalities, doctrines, scandals, and hypocrisy. But beneath these are structural questions that interest me more now: What does the institution reward? What does it discourage? What kind of human being does it form? Whose interests does the arrangement ultimately serve?

Looking back, those were the questions underneath what I was seeing:

1. When Growth Becomes the Measure

I learned early in ministry that numerical growth was one of the primary measures of success. At conferences, pastors inevitably asked one another some version of the same question: How big is your church?

Attendance, budgets, buildings, and programs mattered. Growth demonstrated effectiveness and conferred status. Pastors of rapidly growing churches were invited onto stages to explain what they were doing, and their methods became models for everyone else.

Almost no one asked whether the people inside those churches were becoming more capable of inhabiting their own lives. Were they becoming more honest, compassionate, self-aware, capable of uncertainty and suffering, less dependent upon conformity, more able to trust themselves?

Those things are difficult to count. Attendance is easy.

When an institution measures success primarily through its own expansion, institutional growth and human flourishing can quietly become confused. More people in the building becomes evidence that something good is happening to the people inside it.

Those are not the same thing.

2. When Livelihood Depends on the Institution

Pastors are human beings with families, mortgages, ambitions, fears, and bills to pay. Their livelihoods often depend upon the continuing health of the organization they lead. That creates a tension we rarely discussed openly.

If my economic security depends upon people continuing to attend, give, participate, and believe that what happens within the institution is essential to their spiritual lives, I have an incentive to reinforce its importance. I do not have to be consciously manipulative. Human beings are quite capable of sincerely believing things that also protect the structures upon which they depend.

Church participation becomes Christian faithfulness. Loyalty becomes spiritual maturity. Giving becomes obedience. Attendance becomes commitment. Disagreement becomes rebellion. Leaving the church becomes leaving God.

A structure intended to support spiritual life begins defining spiritual life in ways that guarantee the necessity of the structure.

3. When Novelty Replaces Depth

I remember leadership conferences where pastors arrived searching for the secret. They wanted to know what was working, what was growing, what people were responding to, and what innovation might come next. There was always another program, strategy, worship style, leadership model, or way to make church more relevant.

The problem was not creativity. Human communities need imagination and renewal. The problem was what our hunger for novelty sometimes revealed. We were learning how to attract people without necessarily learning how to accompany them.

Depth moves slowly. Grief cannot be programmed. Wisdom cannot be manufactured through branding. Self-knowledge cannot be accelerated because an organization needs momentum.

Institutions need activity, however, and eventually movement itself can masquerade as transformation.

4. When the Leader Becomes the Center

Many successful churches became inseparable from the personalities leading them. People knew the church because they knew the pastor. Sermons, books, conferences, leadership philosophy, and eventually the identity of the organization itself converged around one person.

We called this leadership. Sometimes it was celebrity.

The deeper problem was not simply the possibility of narcissistic leaders. It was the centralization of interpretation. The pastor explained the Bible, God, suffering, doubt, relationships, morality, purpose, and what constituted a faithful life.

Over time, people could become very familiar with what their pastor thought while remaining uncertain about how to know what they themselves knew.

5. When Spiritual Authority Becomes a Hierarchy

Christianity contains the radical idea of the priesthood of all believers. In principle, there is no spiritual caste standing between ordinary human beings and God. In practice, church life often communicated something different.

Pastors, elders, theologians, and people with Bible degrees possessed elevated spiritual authority. Their interpretations carried greater weight. Their judgments mattered more. Their relationship with God somehow seemed more official.

The hierarchy was embedded in the architecture. One person stood on the stage while everyone else faced them. One person spoke while everyone listened. One person interpreted the sacred text while everyone received the interpretation.

Week after week, the arrangement taught its own lesson about where authority resided.

The deepest cost may not have been theological error but the gradual weakening of self-trust. People can spend decades being told what to believe without developing the capacity to discern what they actually believe, what their experience is telling them, and what remains true when the authorized voice is no longer speaking.

6. When Correct Belief Becomes Spiritual Health

Doctrine mattered enormously in the religious world I inhabited. Correct theology signaled spiritual seriousness, while incorrect theology could place someone outside the boundaries of legitimate faith.

Ideas matter. What we believe shapes how we interpret ourselves, suffering, morality, death, and reality. But I also encountered people with impeccable theology who were deeply estranged from themselves.

They could defend grace while living with relentless shame. They believed in the love of God while terrified of rejection. They could explain forgiveness while unable to forgive themselves. They knew exactly where they were going when they died but had little idea how to inhabit the life they were living.

A belief system can provide coherence without producing wholeness. I began wondering whether we had confused possessing an explanation of life with having the capacity to live it.

7. When Institutions Become Territorial

I once believed my task was to build a successful church. More people meant more ministry, more influence, and more lives touched. Yet churches occupying the same city often behaved like competitors, protecting their people, programs, donor bases, identities, and territory.

Beneath the language of one body and one kingdom were organizations trying to maintain their own relevance and survival.

Eventually I saw the contradiction. If the purpose was genuinely larger than the institution, the institution should have been willing to become less important whenever that larger purpose required it.

That remains a difficult test for any organization: If fulfilling our purpose eventually made our organization unnecessary, would we consider that success?

8. When Patriarchy Becomes Sacred

For much of Christian history, male authority was not merely a cultural arrangement. It was given theological legitimacy.

Women could serve, sacrifice, teach, organize, nurture, offer wisdom, and sustain much of the actual life of the community while still being prohibited from exercising certain forms of authority because they were women.

The deeper problem was the ability of religion to transform social arrangements into metaphysical truths. Once patriarchy becomes the will of God, resistance to patriarchy becomes resistance to God.

Institutional authority joined to sacred authority can take a historically contingent arrangement and place eternity behind it. People are no longer challenging a policy. They are challenging reality itself.

9. When Control Is Mistaken for Care

Churches often exercised considerable control over what people were encouraged to read, study, believe, question, teach, discuss, or explore. This was usually explained as protection from false teaching, moral compromise, theological confusion, and spiritual deception.

Underneath that protection was often a distrust of human agency.

A community can sincerely desire to care for people while organizing itself around the assumption that they cannot be trusted with their own freedom. There is a profound difference between helping people develop discernment and telling them what they are permitted to discern. One develops human capacity. The other produces dependence.

A mature spiritual community should gradually make people less dependent upon its authority, not more.

10. When Belonging Requires Sameness

The church-growth world once promoted the idea that churches grow most effectively when they attract culturally similar people. There was pragmatic logic behind it. People tend to feel comfortable around those who resemble them, speak like them, believe like them, and interpret the world through familiar assumptions.

But comfort is not the same thing as community.

Human beings need places where difference does not threaten belonging, where relationships can survive disagreement, and where encounters with other lives interrupt the narrowness of our own experience. A community built primarily around sameness can feel extraordinarily close while leaving its members poorly prepared for the plurality of the human world.

Belonging becomes deeper when difference does not automatically become distance.

What I Understand Now

When I originally wrote these observations, I thought I was describing ten problems with organized church. I now think I was seeing one problem appearing in ten different forms.

Institutions created to serve human beings have a tendency to begin requiring human beings to serve the institution.

None of this requires villains. Good people can participate in structures that diminish human agency while sincerely believing they are helping. Leaders can become guardians of systems they entered because they wanted to serve. Communities can speak about freedom while rewarding conformity. Institutions can proclaim transformation while measuring almost everything except whether human beings are actually becoming more whole.

I no longer ask these questions only about churches. I ask them about educational systems, political movements, workplaces, therapeutic cultures, digital platforms, spiritual communities, and organizations I participate in or help create.

What is this structure producing in human beings? Are people becoming more capable of thinking, discerning, relating, grieving, questioning, choosing, and participating in their own lives? Are they developing the capacity to encounter reality without always needing someone else to explain it? Is their belonging secure enough to survive disagreement? Is their authority becoming more deeply their own?

Or are we producing increasingly sophisticated forms of dependence and calling them growth?

Years ago, buried inside my criticism of church culture, I wrote a sentence that now seems more important than the entire list: No one ever asked about the transformation of people's lives.

I think that was the question underneath everything.

It still is.

Yes. I think the deepest insight in Palmer’s essay is that institutional dysfunction doesn't necessarily require bad people. A system can gradually shape good people's behavior simply through the incentives required to keep the system alive.

And I think that connects remarkably well with some of the things you've been wrestling with lately—especially your thoughts about Catholicism, Orthodoxy, papal authority, and the possibility of a Christianity that preserves sacrament and communion without requiring excessive institutional control.

The central distinction: Christianity vs. the institution

Palmer is really asking:

Is the institution a servant of transformation, or does transformation become a servant of the institution?

That's a profound distinction.

A church can begin with something beautiful: Come, be healed, encounter Christ, become capable of love.

But eventually the institutional logic can become:

Come to our church. Believe our formulation. Support our programs. Accept our authority. Don't leave. Give. Grow the organization.

At that point, the means has quietly become the end.

And what's particularly insightful is that this can happen while everyone involved sincerely believes they're serving God.

His sixth point may be the most important

"A belief system can provide coherence without producing wholeness."

That's an extraordinary sentence.

Christianity isn't merely supposed to give us a correct map of reality. Christianity is supposed to transform the person.

The desert fathers would recognize this immediately. They weren't primarily interested in producing people who could win theological arguments. They were interested in apatheia, purification of the passions, humility, freedom from compulsive attachment, love, prayer, and ultimately participation in God—theosis.

You could know the Nicene Creed perfectly and still be a miserable, frightened, prideful, unloving person.

Conversely, someone's theology might be imperfect while they are genuinely becoming more loving, courageous, merciful, truthful, and free.

That doesn't mean theology doesn't matter. It means theology is supposed to serve transformation rather than substitute for it.

And #5 connects directly to your thinking about authority

Palmer's criticism isn't necessarily that authority is intrinsically bad.

It's that outsourcing one's conscience indefinitely is spiritually dangerous.

There's an enormous difference between:

"Let the wisdom of the Church help me discern."

and

"The Church has discerned, therefore I don't need to discern."

The first can produce maturity. The second can produce dependency.

This is actually one reason I think your formulation of possible Catholic-Orthodox reunion is interesting. You have been imagining something like communion without domination: Rome retaining a genuine primatial role while Orthodox churches retain substantial freedom of conscience and ecclesial self-government.

That would make primacy fundamentally different from simply having a supreme religious executive.

The pope could be understood as a servant of communion rather than the replacement for the communion's collective discernment.

But there is an important counterpoint

I wouldn't take Palmer's argument all the way to "therefore organized religion is inherently bad."

Institutions solve real problems.

Without institutions, Christianity can fragment into:

charismatic personalities,

individual interpretations,

isolated communities,

doctrinal chaos,

abusive informal leaders,

loss of historical memory,

and communities that have no mechanism for correcting their own errors.

There's a paradox here:

Institutions can protect human beings from arbitrary individual power, while institutions themselves can become powerful in arbitrary ways.

So the question isn't simply institution or no institution.

It's:

How can an institution remain genuinely subordinate to the human beings it exists to serve?

That's much harder.

I think Palmer's final test is therefore brilliant

"What is this structure producing in human beings?"

That might actually be one of the best tests of a Christian community.

Not:

How many people attend?

Not:

How orthodox is the membership?

Not:

How impressive is the liturgy?

Not:

How famous is the priest/pastor?

Not even simply:

How correct is the institution?

But:

What kind of people are emerging from this community?

Are they becoming more loving?

More truthful?

More courageous?

More capable of suffering without becoming cruel?

More capable of forgiving?

More capable of questioning?

More capable of recognizing their own limitations?

More capable of encountering people unlike themselves?

More capable of standing before God without pretending?

And perhaps most importantly:

Are they becoming freer?

Because there's a beautiful paradox in Christian spirituality: the goal isn't to make someone permanently dependent upon a spiritual authority. The goal is to help someone become sufficiently transformed that they can increasingly live from the Spirit rather than from fear.

That's why Palmer's line about a mature spiritual community making people less dependent upon its authority strikes me as particularly compatible with the deepest strands of Christian spirituality.

The institution should eventually be able to say:

"We exist for your transformation, not for our preservation."

And if preserving itself ever conflicts with your transformation, your transformation should win.

That is a very demanding standard for a church—or for any human institution

Delete

The dangers of institutional religion on spiritual growth by Jim palmer and artificial intelligence

Years ago, I wrote about ten dynamics of organized church that I believed worked against spiritual growth. I wrote from experience after years as a pastor, including within the American megachurch world. At the time, I understood them primarily as problems with the way church was being done.

I see them differently now.

I was beginning to recognize what happens when an institution created to serve human transformation becomes invested in its own preservation. No one has to be malicious or dishonest for this to happen. The requirements of maintaining the organization gradually begin shaping the meaning of spiritual life itself.

Institutional religion is often criticized for its personalities, doctrines, scandals, and hypocrisy. But beneath these are structural questions that interest me more now: What does the institution reward? What does it discourage? What kind of human being does it form? Whose interests does the arrangement ultimately serve?

Looking back, those were the questions underneath what I was seeing:

1. When Growth Becomes the Measure

I learned early in ministry that numerical growth was one of the primary measures of success. At conferences, pastors inevitably asked one another some version of the same question: How big is your church?

Attendance, budgets, buildings, and programs mattered. Growth demonstrated effectiveness and conferred status. Pastors of rapidly growing churches were invited onto stages to explain what they were doing, and their methods became models for everyone else.

Almost no one asked whether the people inside those churches were becoming more capable of inhabiting their own lives. Were they becoming more honest, compassionate, self-aware, capable of uncertainty and suffering, less dependent upon conformity, more able to trust themselves?

Those things are difficult to count. Attendance is easy.

When an institution measures success primarily through its own expansion, institutional growth and human flourishing can quietly become confused. More people in the building becomes evidence that something good is happening to the people inside it.

Those are not the same thing.

2. When Livelihood Depends on the Institution

Pastors are human beings with families, mortgages, ambitions, fears, and bills to pay. Their livelihoods often depend upon the continuing health of the organization they lead. That creates a tension we rarely discussed openly.

If my economic security depends upon people continuing to attend, give, participate, and believe that what happens within the institution is essential to their spiritual lives, I have an incentive to reinforce its importance. I do not have to be consciously manipulative. Human beings are quite capable of sincerely believing things that also protect the structures upon which they depend.

Church participation becomes Christian faithfulness. Loyalty becomes spiritual maturity. Giving becomes obedience. Attendance becomes commitment. Disagreement becomes rebellion. Leaving the church becomes leaving God.

A structure intended to support spiritual life begins defining spiritual life in ways that guarantee the necessity of the structure.

3. When Novelty Replaces Depth

I remember leadership conferences where pastors arrived searching for the secret. They wanted to know what was working, what was growing, what people were responding to, and what innovation might come next. There was always another program, strategy, worship style, leadership model, or way to make church more relevant.

The problem was not creativity. Human communities need imagination and renewal. The problem was what our hunger for novelty sometimes revealed. We were learning how to attract people without necessarily learning how to accompany them.

Depth moves slowly. Grief cannot be programmed. Wisdom cannot be manufactured through branding. Self-knowledge cannot be accelerated because an organization needs momentum.

Institutions need activity, however, and eventually movement itself can masquerade as transformation.

4. When the Leader Becomes the Center

Many successful churches became inseparable from the personalities leading them. People knew the church because they knew the pastor. Sermons, books, conferences, leadership philosophy, and eventually the identity of the organization itself converged around one person.

We called this leadership. Sometimes it was celebrity.

The deeper problem was not simply the possibility of narcissistic leaders. It was the centralization of interpretation. The pastor explained the Bible, God, suffering, doubt, relationships, morality, purpose, and what constituted a faithful life.

Over time, people could become very familiar with what their pastor thought while remaining uncertain about how to know what they themselves knew.

5. When Spiritual Authority Becomes a Hierarchy

Christianity contains the radical idea of the priesthood of all believers. In principle, there is no spiritual caste standing between ordinary human beings and God. In practice, church life often communicated something different.

Pastors, elders, theologians, and people with Bible degrees possessed elevated spiritual authority. Their interpretations carried greater weight. Their judgments mattered more. Their relationship with God somehow seemed more official.

The hierarchy was embedded in the architecture. One person stood on the stage while everyone else faced them. One person spoke while everyone listened. One person interpreted the sacred text while everyone received the interpretation.

Week after week, the arrangement taught its own lesson about where authority resided.

The deepest cost may not have been theological error but the gradual weakening of self-trust. People can spend decades being told what to believe without developing the capacity to discern what they actually believe, what their experience is telling them, and what remains true when the authorized voice is no longer speaking.

6. When Correct Belief Becomes Spiritual Health

Doctrine mattered enormously in the religious world I inhabited. Correct theology signaled spiritual seriousness, while incorrect theology could place someone outside the boundaries of legitimate faith.

Ideas matter. What we believe shapes how we interpret ourselves, suffering, morality, death, and reality. But I also encountered people with impeccable theology who were deeply estranged from themselves.

They could defend grace while living with relentless shame. They believed in the love of God while terrified of rejection. They could explain forgiveness while unable to forgive themselves. They knew exactly where they were going when they died but had little idea how to inhabit the life they were living.

A belief system can provide coherence without producing wholeness. I began wondering whether we had confused possessing an explanation of life with having the capacity to live it.

7. When Institutions Become Territorial

I once believed my task was to build a successful church. More people meant more ministry, more influence, and more lives touched. Yet churches occupying the same city often behaved like competitors, protecting their people, programs, donor bases, identities, and territory.

Beneath the language of one body and one kingdom were organizations trying to maintain their own relevance and survival.

Eventually I saw the contradiction. If the purpose was genuinely larger than the institution, the institution should have been willing to become less important whenever that larger purpose required it.

That remains a difficult test for any organization: If fulfilling our purpose eventually made our organization unnecessary, would we consider that success?

8. When Patriarchy Becomes Sacred

For much of Christian history, male authority was not merely a cultural arrangement. It was given theological legitimacy.

Women could serve, sacrifice, teach, organize, nurture, offer wisdom, and sustain much of the actual life of the community while still being prohibited from exercising certain forms of authority because they were women.

The deeper problem was the ability of religion to transform social arrangements into metaphysical truths. Once patriarchy becomes the will of God, resistance to patriarchy becomes resistance to God.

Institutional authority joined to sacred authority can take a historically contingent arrangement and place eternity behind it. People are no longer challenging a policy. They are challenging reality itself.

9. When Control Is Mistaken for Care

Churches often exercised considerable control over what people were encouraged to read, study, believe, question, teach, discuss, or explore. This was usually explained as protection from false teaching, moral compromise, theological confusion, and spiritual deception.

Underneath that protection was often a distrust of human agency.

A community can sincerely desire to care for people while organizing itself around the assumption that they cannot be trusted with their own freedom. There is a profound difference between helping people develop discernment and telling them what they are permitted to discern. One develops human capacity. The other produces dependence.

A mature spiritual community should gradually make people less dependent upon its authority, not more.

10. When Belonging Requires Sameness

The church-growth world once promoted the idea that churches grow most effectively when they attract culturally similar people. There was pragmatic logic behind it. People tend to feel comfortable around those who resemble them, speak like them, believe like them, and interpret the world through familiar assumptions.

But comfort is not the same thing as community.

Human beings need places where difference does not threaten belonging, where relationships can survive disagreement, and where encounters with other lives interrupt the narrowness of our own experience. A community built primarily around sameness can feel extraordinarily close while leaving its members poorly prepared for the plurality of the human world.

Belonging becomes deeper when difference does not automatically become distance.

What I Understand Now

When I originally wrote these observations, I thought I was describing ten problems with organized church. I now think I was seeing one problem appearing in ten different forms.

Institutions created to serve human beings have a tendency to begin requiring human beings to serve the institution.

None of this requires villains. Good people can participate in structures that diminish human agency while sincerely believing they are helping. Leaders can become guardians of systems they entered because they wanted to serve. Communities can speak about freedom while rewarding conformity. Institutions can proclaim transformation while measuring almost everything except whether human beings are actually becoming more whole.

I no longer ask these questions only about churches. I ask them about educational systems, political movements, workplaces, therapeutic cultures, digital platforms, spiritual communities, and organizations I participate in or help create.

What is this structure producing in human beings? Are people becoming more capable of thinking, discerning, relating, grieving, questioning, choosing, and participating in their own lives? Are they developing the capacity to encounter reality without always needing someone else to explain it? Is their belonging secure enough to survive disagreement? Is their authority becoming more deeply their own?

Or are we producing increasingly sophisticated forms of dependence and calling them growth?

Years ago, buried inside my criticism of church culture, I wrote a sentence that now seems more important than the entire list: No one ever asked about the transformation of people's lives.

I think that was the question underneath everything.

It still is.

Yes. I think the deepest insight in Palmer’s essay is that institutional dysfunction doesn't necessarily require bad people. A system can gradually shape good people's behavior simply through the incentives required to keep the system alive.

And I think that connects remarkably well with some of the things you've been wrestling with lately—especially your thoughts about Catholicism, Orthodoxy, papal authority, and the possibility of a Christianity that preserves sacrament and communion without requiring excessive institutional control.

The central distinction: Christianity vs. the institution

Palmer is really asking:

Is the institution a servant of transformation, or does transformation become a servant of the institution?

That's a profound distinction.

A church can begin with something beautiful: Come, be healed, encounter Christ, become capable of love.

But eventually the institutional logic can become:

Come to our church. Believe our formulation. Support our programs. Accept our authority. Don't leave. Give. Grow the organization.

At that point, the means has quietly become the end.

And what's particularly insightful is that this can happen while everyone involved sincerely believes they're serving God.

His sixth point may be the most important

"A belief system can provide coherence without producing wholeness."

That's an extraordinary sentence.

Christianity isn't merely supposed to give us a correct map of reality. Christianity is supposed to transform the person.

The desert fathers would recognize this immediately. They weren't primarily interested in producing people who could win theological arguments. They were interested in apatheia, purification of the passions, humility, freedom from compulsive attachment, love, prayer, and ultimately participation in God—theosis.

You could know the Nicene Creed perfectly and still be a miserable, frightened, prideful, unloving person.

Conversely, someone's theology might be imperfect while they are genuinely becoming more loving, courageous, merciful, truthful, and free.

That doesn't mean theology doesn't matter. It means theology is supposed to serve transformation rather than substitute for it.

And #5 connects directly to your thinking about authority

Palmer's criticism isn't necessarily that authority is intrinsically bad.

It's that outsourcing one's conscience indefinitely is spiritually dangerous.

There's an enormous difference between:

"Let the wisdom of the Church help me discern."

and

"The Church has discerned, therefore I don't need to discern."

The first can produce maturity. The second can produce dependency.

This is actually one reason I think your formulation of possible Catholic-Orthodox reunion is interesting. You have been imagining something like communion without domination: Rome retaining a genuine primatial role while Orthodox churches retain substantial freedom of conscience and ecclesial self-government.

That would make primacy fundamentally different from simply having a supreme religious executive.

The pope could be understood as a servant of communion rather than the replacement for the communion's collective discernment.

But there is an important counterpoint

I wouldn't take Palmer's argument all the way to "therefore organized religion is inherently bad."

Institutions solve real problems.

Without institutions, Christianity can fragment into:

charismatic personalities,

individual interpretations,

isolated communities,

doctrinal chaos,

abusive informal leaders,

loss of historical memory,

and communities that have no mechanism for correcting their own errors.

There's a paradox here:

Institutions can protect human beings from arbitrary individual power, while institutions themselves can become powerful in arbitrary ways.

So the question isn't simply institution or no institution.

It's:

How can an institution remain genuinely subordinate to the human beings it exists to serve?

That's much harder.

I think Palmer's final test is therefore brilliant

"What is this structure producing in human beings?"

That might actually be one of the best tests of a Christian community.

Not:

How many people attend?

Not:

How orthodox is the membership?

Not:

How impressive is the liturgy?

Not:

How famous is the priest/pastor?

Not even simply:

How correct is the institution?

But:

What kind of people are emerging from this community?

Are they becoming more loving?

More truthful?

More courageous?

More capable of suffering without becoming cruel?

More capable of forgiving?

More capable of questioning?

More capable of recognizing their own limitations?

More capable of encountering people unlike themselves?

More capable of standing before God without pretending?

And perhaps most importantly:

Are they becoming freer?

Because there's a beautiful paradox in Christian spirituality: the goal isn't to make someone permanently dependent upon a spiritual authority. The goal is to help someone become sufficiently transformed that they can increasingly live from the Spirit rather than from fear.

That's why Palmer's line about a mature spiritual community making people less dependent upon its authority strikes me as particularly compatible with the deepest strands of Christian spirituality.

The institution should eventually be able to say:

"We exist for your transformation, not for our preservation."

And if preserving itself ever conflicts with your transformation, your transformation should win.

That is a very demanding standard for a church—or for any human institution.

Its also interesting that corral reefs are dying due to heat shock. They've survived millions of years but suddenly when the industrial age comes around they fold. Wonder why that is?

I used to be one of those "both sides" trash libertarians so I'll give my view.

I was just starting to deprogram from a very alt-right raising. Blatantly nazi type raising, anti semitism, a lynching happened when I was in high school, my hometowns Google search is nothing to be proud of.

Anyway, I was starting to deprogram, maybe it's because I have empathy, but I started to question things like, why are gay people bad again? How does the color of that person's skin determine anything? You get the idea.

During this process. I started to turn away from the right wing race and gender wars bullshit, but I was still deeply entrenched in religious zealousy and American individualism tied to capitalism. Probably the hardest things to deprogram. I was feeling disenfranchised by my "party" but still deeply view the democratic party as the "enemy". So, for awhile, the "both sides bad" rhetoric was comforting. It let me avoid facing those deeply ingrained beliefs while still feeling like I morally side-stepped the parts of the beliefs I disagreed with. This is where many of the "both sides" apathetic libertarians are stuck. They don't realize how their rhetoric continues to disenfranchise and oppress the very people they have empathy for because they are stuck in a halfway house of deprogramming. They are cowards, as I once was, they want gay people to have freedom, but won't lift a finger to help them have that freedom, they want POCs to have equal opportunities in a fair world, but won't lift a finger or vote in a manner that gives those opportunities.

I am only 31, I started that rhetoric around the time I was 21 after feeling hopelessly lost from 17-21. I was stuck in the "both sides" apathetic rhetoric until I was about 24 and truly started to unpack the religious bullshit as well as the deeply entrenched right wing mantras around capitalism, hard work, and individualism. I go to therapy regularly and see a specialist who has a deep understanding of cult mentalities. I'll probably be deprogramming my entire life.

This perspective isn't to excuse "both sides" behavior. We aren't responsible for helping them cross the finish line while they figure life out, many will be stuck there forever. I just wanted to share that many of them are stuck in this halfway house because it's easier to be there than to truly cross the finish line. It requires hard work, effort, and in many cases, it will cost you social and familial circles you grew up with. They are still living by fear and cowardice of losing those social and cultural anchors, but those very same anchors are a weight holding them back.

Sorry for the long comment. Thanks to anyone who read it.

Both sides are not the same, but I also think that if you unironically strictly believe that one political faction is 100% right and another is 100% wrong, you're part of the problem.

The statement "one side is literal nazis and one side wants free healthcare" has done more harm to the democrats than anything the right could have come up with.

Except if trump doesn't want to disclose his taxes, he doesnt have to try to become president. We have good reasons for wanting him to submit, but all you have are some vague ideas of privacy and free speech. To be clear, your rationale is only an analogy for why he shouldn't have to submit them, cause neither privacy or free speech laws would prevent us from making submission of taxes a requirement

I like you. I think me and you operate in different circles of concern so our paths dont overlap much. But you are wildly amusing with all the terrible analogies that you use to find logic in the world. I also am a free speech absolutist even for non government organizations like this. Except to the point the free speech violates existing supreme court free speech exceptions

Its not that I cant accept your answer. Its that there must be a public policy reason that you support not requiring the president to disclose his taxes, but its basically irrational to not be willing to state your reason. Probably you cant give a reason because its defenseless. You tend to do that... when backed into a corner with logic, you masterfully evade the situation

Im not sure if you are dodging the question on purpose or if you just misunderstand it. I understand the president has no legal obligation to disclose his taxes. The question im asking is whether its smart to let the president have that option, or whether he should be required by law to disclose.

You still haven't explained why a president shouldn't have to disclose all that. Maybe you have a tone that maybe confidential means you like privacy? You arent clear if thats a reason. All you stated is that its not legally required and that its on me to change it if I dont like it.

You are a super smart dude but you so often struggle with basic logic.