A Miracle On Your Doorstep

OPRAH: Right. So, what we have become is a nation of idolatry worshipers.

MS. WILLIAMSON: Yes, because when you think that–

OPRAH: Would you all agree with that?

Well, never mind. The important thing was that Oprah Winfrey just loved Marianne Williamson’s book, “A Return to Love: Reflections on the Principles of A Course in Miracles.” Loved it so much, in fact, she gave it a grand Oprah-size plug on her syndicated talk show last month, announcing she’d personally bought 1,000 copies for distribution to the spiritually needy. That was enough to send the book soaring to the top of The New York Times " how-to" heap, where it has lodged for four weeks running. It’s No. 1 in other major cities, too.

The spurt was one more proof of the power of Winfrey’s imprimatur. But even more than that, it reflected the boundless American craving for psychic sustenance. In a spiritually famished time, pop preachers from Robert Bly to John Bradshaw to Williamson are garnering huge audiences for inspirational books and lectures that urge people to get in touch with their inner man, their inner child or, in Williamson’s case apparently, their inner ectoplasm. “Gurus are a booming business these days,” says Nancy Oakley, of Berkeley’s Cody’s Books, where “A Return to Love” has been doing “incredibly” well. “It’s almost become addictive for people,” she says. “I would call it frenzied dependency.”

“How-to” seems an unlikely category for Williamson’s book, which reads at times more like a Christian religious tract–although the author herself is resolutely Jewish. But this is Christianity with a secular spin. “Return” is based on “A Course in Miracles,” a gassy modern-day gospel supposedly dictated by a mysterious voice that has been entrancing New Agers and other truth seekers since 1975. It has spawned scores of study groups around the country as well as a dozen volumes of commentary and interpretation. Published in a mind-numbing three-volume edition that still sells for $40, the course holds, with other mystical manifestoes, that all of the material world is illusory. The source of unhappiness, it says, is the mistaken sense of separateness from others imposed by the illusion of our bodies. (“The Holy Spirit’s temple is not a body but a relationship.”) That, in turn, causes us to hate and condemn others. The way to happiness–the “miracle”–is the change in perception that lets us replace fear and loathing with love and forgiveness.

In " Return to Love," Williamson applies the course’s lessons to such practical matters as dieting. Wretchedly weight-conscious in her 20s, she says, the more she dieted the more she gained, until the course taught her that instead of focusing obsessively on her body, she should concentrate on the one thing that matters, namely, love. “And one day I looked in the mirror and saw that it [the excess poundage] was gone.” That’s one of the books simpler apercus. Others are more elusive, couched in a style that ranges from high liturgical (" The Holy Spirit is a force in our minds") to Sunday homiletic (". . . As soon as I gave the house to God, He hit it with a giant wrecking ball. ‘Sorry, honey,’ He seemed to say, ‘There were cracks in the foundation…… ).

The 39-year-old Williamson says her own life changed course after she encountered the course at a friend’s house in 1977. Mired in a “mess” of broken relationships and drugs, followed by a nervous breakdown, she pulled herself together with the book’s help. A few years later, she began teaching it to small groups, eventually expanding to sold-out lecture appearances in New York and Los Angeles.

Though she genuinely disdains the label, Williamson seems to have taken her place in the elite but growing company of popular new gurus. It may be that the social turmoil of the past few decades has left Americans more in need than ever of guidance from such figures. Indeed, church attendance is also reported to be growing, but, as Williamson astutely notes: “I think many people like to feel these days that they can abstract from many religions, many traditions, that which works for them.”

Or that which they hope works for them. In truth, there is not much evidence that many people have been able to translate the wisdom of the sages into happier lives. Few have managed to follow their bliss, and Williamson’s program of forgiveness instead of hate may be even trickier to implement. The petite, fragile-looking spiritual counselor often seems in need of her own counsel. She is prone, some say, to formidable funks, and at times sounds less like a New Age prophet than a latter-day Leona Helmsley. “I have my hormonal days like everyone else,” she concedes.

But no one accuses Williamson of dishonesty; instead, an air of cranky integrity comes through. Her own understated take on “A Return to Love” is that it simply offers another “path” to spiritual transformation. Inspirational speakers like herself, she believes, “are to the ’90s what musicians were to the ‘60. There is a burst of energy–and the beauty is in how many people are talking in so many different ways.” And the wonder is how many people are listening.

title: “A Miracle On Your Doorstep” ShowToc: true date: “2023-01-03” author: “Christopher Chambers”

OPRAH: Right. So, what we have become is a nation of idolatry worshipers.

MS. WILLIAMSON: Yes, because when you think that–

OPRAH: Would you all agree with that?

Well, never mind. The important thing was that Oprah Winfrey just loved Marianne Williamson’s book, “A Return to Love: Reflections on the Principles of A Course in Miracles.” Loved it so much, in fact, she gave it a grand Oprah-size plug on her syndicated talk show last month, announcing she’d personally bought 1,000 copies for distribution to the spiritually needy. That was enough to send the book soaring to the top of The New York Times " how-to" heap, where it has lodged for four weeks running. It’s No. 1 in other major cities, too.

The spurt was one more proof of the power of Winfrey’s imprimatur. But even more than that, it reflected the boundless American craving for psychic sustenance. In a spiritually famished time, pop preachers from Robert Bly to John Bradshaw to Williamson are garnering huge audiences for inspirational books and lectures that urge people to get in touch with their inner man, their inner child or, in Williamson’s case apparently, their inner ectoplasm. “Gurus are a booming business these days,” says Nancy Oakley, of Berkeley’s Cody’s Books, where “A Return to Love” has been doing “incredibly” well. “It’s almost become addictive for people,” she says. “I would call it frenzied dependency.”

“How-to” seems an unlikely category for Williamson’s book, which reads at times more like a Christian religious tract–although the author herself is resolutely Jewish. But this is Christianity with a secular spin. “Return” is based on “A Course in Miracles,” a gassy modern-day gospel supposedly dictated by a mysterious voice that has been entrancing New Agers and other truth seekers since 1975. It has spawned scores of study groups around the country as well as a dozen volumes of commentary and interpretation. Published in a mind-numbing three-volume edition that still sells for $40, the course holds, with other mystical manifestoes, that all of the material world is illusory. The source of unhappiness, it says, is the mistaken sense of separateness from others imposed by the illusion of our bodies. (“The Holy Spirit’s temple is not a body but a relationship.”) That, in turn, causes us to hate and condemn others. The way to happiness–the “miracle”–is the change in perception that lets us replace fear and loathing with love and forgiveness.

In " Return to Love," Williamson applies the course’s lessons to such practical matters as dieting. Wretchedly weight-conscious in her 20s, she says, the more she dieted the more she gained, until the course taught her that instead of focusing obsessively on her body, she should concentrate on the one thing that matters, namely, love. “And one day I looked in the mirror and saw that it [the excess poundage] was gone.” That’s one of the books simpler apercus. Others are more elusive, couched in a style that ranges from high liturgical (" The Holy Spirit is a force in our minds") to Sunday homiletic (". . . As soon as I gave the house to God, He hit it with a giant wrecking ball. ‘Sorry, honey,’ He seemed to say, ‘There were cracks in the foundation…… ).

The 39-year-old Williamson says her own life changed course after she encountered the course at a friend’s house in 1977. Mired in a “mess” of broken relationships and drugs, followed by a nervous breakdown, she pulled herself together with the book’s help. A few years later, she began teaching it to small groups, eventually expanding to sold-out lecture appearances in New York and Los Angeles.

Though she genuinely disdains the label, Williamson seems to have taken her place in the elite but growing company of popular new gurus. It may be that the social turmoil of the past few decades has left Americans more in need than ever of guidance from such figures. Indeed, church attendance is also reported to be growing, but, as Williamson astutely notes: “I think many people like to feel these days that they can abstract from many religions, many traditions, that which works for them.”

Or that which they hope works for them. In truth, there is not much evidence that many people have been able to translate the wisdom of the sages into happier lives. Few have managed to follow their bliss, and Williamson’s program of forgiveness instead of hate may be even trickier to implement. The petite, fragile-looking spiritual counselor often seems in need of her own counsel. She is prone, some say, to formidable funks, and at times sounds less like a New Age prophet than a latter-day Leona Helmsley. “I have my hormonal days like everyone else,” she concedes.

But no one accuses Williamson of dishonesty; instead, an air of cranky integrity comes through. Her own understated take on “A Return to Love” is that it simply offers another “path” to spiritual transformation. Inspirational speakers like herself, she believes, “are to the ’90s what musicians were to the ‘60. There is a burst of energy–and the beauty is in how many people are talking in so many different ways.” And the wonder is how many people are listening.