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Nobody who believes in the Incarnation—in a God who thinks matter matters so much as to take on human flesh to communicate himself—can conclude otherwise. God uses all of our senses to allow us to understand him, so why not the brain, which processes the senses? That drugs or epileptic fits can induce spiritual experiences is not surprising or any more or less significant than that drugs can induce fear or euphoria.

But if so, does that mean the person actually encountered the divine? No one can say for sure, not even the recipient of the experience—which, unless he is a complete narcissist, can only leave the recipient in deep doubt about the authenticity of the experience.

Narcissism has, in fact, been a perennial thorn in mysticism's side. That's why the great Christian mystics, while describing their experiences, taught their disciples to downplay ecstatic moments. Their goal was not to have spiritual experiences, but to see God. So they considered the "dark night of the soul" an essential phase—one in which all sensible spiritual pleasures are withdrawn so that the heart's pursuit of God can be purified of spiritual self-interest.

But Hagerty's conversations with mystics show that the temptation to narcissism—to relish the experience as a "high" that makes me a better person—remains powerful. For example, when Hagerty asks Michael Hughes to compare a non-drug-induced mystical moment with his mushroom-induced one, he says, "Ultimately, I don't really care if it is my brain chemistry doing this. They were equally profound. They both changed me dramatically." For many, an encounter with Reality is less important than how they feel.

The privileging of experience causes Hagerty to stumble badly at the end: "Embracing a particular faith, I came to believe, is a little like hopping in a car," she writes. "You can drive wherever you like: some head to Rome, others to Mecca, or the Wailing Wall. … But what makes the car run is under the hood. … Spiritual experience is the engine that transports you from one place to another" [italics added].

As a "mainstream Christian" (as she calls herself), Hagerty knows that Jesus said he was the Way, the Truth, and the Life, and that no one comes to God but by him. But she concludes, "I could not reconcile the literal statement with my reporting."

She seems unaware that long before the advent of modern science, Christians faced into the problem of religious pluralism. As Paul put it to the pluralistic Athenians, "For as I passed along and observed the objects of your worship, I found also an altar with this inscription, 'To the unknown god.' What therefore you worship as unknown, this I proclaim to you" (Acts 17:23, ESV). Anyone who has a mystical encounter with Reality, many theologians have concluded, is having an encounter with Jesus Christ, whether she recognizes him or not. Furthermore, God has a long history of only revealing himself in bits and pieces—often, it seems, to set people on a spiritual journey that leads to the knowledge of Jesus Christ.

Hagerty's acquiescence to the relativistic spirit of the age suggests that she may have had another motive in writing the book:

"… advances in science, and particularly quantum physics, are offering another description of reality in which all things are guided by and connected to an infinite Mind. … As I absorbed the science, I found this was the 'God' I could defend most easily—not so much a divine 'father' as an infinite creator of law and life."

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May 2009, Vol. 53, No. 5, Page 61