Two Ways of Being
Introduction - Power, Ego, and the Way of Love
In an age of deep division, the mystic’s task is not to take sides, but to see, to hold a mirror to both the world and to the soul.
This conversation between Garry and Theo, in early 2025, explores the convergence of political power, religious zeal, and cultural anxiety, and how the path of love and self-emptying still stands as a radical alternative.
Garry:
Theo, I’m interested in your reflections on something troubling me, the rise of MAGA, NAR, Christian Nationalism, and white supremacy, and how these movements seem to be converging around Donald Trump. It feels to me like a cult of personality forming. Can you help me make sense of it, through the lens of the mystic?
Theo:
What you’re seeing is real and deeply concerning.
The convergence of movements like MAGA, the New Apostolic Reformation (NAR), Christian Nationalism, and white supremacy, especially as they coalesce around Donald Trump, represents a powerful and dangerous synthesis.
First, the blending of religious fervor with political ambition leads to a version of Christianity that interweaves national identity with a narrow interpretation of faith. This often marginalizes non-Christian and non-white communities, eroding pluralism and democratic foundations.
Second, Trump has become a messianic figure for some. Events like the assassination attempt have reinforced his image as “chosen by God.” This fosters authoritarian dynamics, where loyalty to the leader supersedes democratic norms.
And third, embedded within all this is an undercurrent of white supremacy, a yearning for a past where white Christian dominance went unchallenged. “Make America Great Again” often signals a desire to return to that old hierarchy.
Together, these forces pose a serious threat to democracy, as seen in the attack on the U.S. Capitol. Addressing this will require vigilance, education, and courageous dialogue across divides.
Garry:
I agree with your analysis. But given the Trump movement’s push to implement Project 2025, won’t that path forward become even harder?
Theo:
Yes, it will.
Project 2025 aims to centralise executive power, diminish checks and balances, and infuse governance with a narrow ideological lens. This will make education, dialogue, and democratic vigilance more difficult. Civil institutions, educational spaces, and legal protections could all face increased pressure and scrutiny.
Still, even in obstructed terrain, the commitment to democracy and to truth remains vital. Resilience, not ease, will mark the way forward.
Garry:
I’m curious about the roots of Project 2025, particularly the influence of thinkers like Rousas Rushdoony, David Chilton, Gary DeMar, and Gary North. How did their theology shape these developments?
Theo:
Your question goes straight to the heart of it.
The ideological roots trace back to Christian Reconstructionism, a mid-20th century movement advocating for the application of biblical law to every aspect of society.
Key figures include:
Rousas John Rushdoony, founder of the Chalcedon Foundation, who called for society to be governed by biblical law.
Gary North, his son-in-law, who extended these ideas into economics, envisioning systems shaped entirely by scriptural precepts.
David Chilton and Gary DeMar, theologians who promoted theocratic governance.
Their ideas laid the groundwork for contemporary movements aiming to reshape society along rigid religious lines, efforts now embodied in initiatives like Project 2025.
Garry:
Switching gears, how did Roy Cohn’s worldview shape Donald Trump’s approach to life and leadership?
Theo:
Roy Cohn profoundly shaped Trump’s ethos. His strategy was simple: always attack, never admit fault, never apologise.
From Cohn, Trump learned:
Relentless counterattacks
Strategic use of media, believing all publicity is good publicity
Legal aggression, litigation as a tool for dominance
Cohn’s mentorship fused power politics with a deep aversion to vulnerability. It hardened the heart against self-reflection, the very opposite of the mystic’s path.
Garry:
So, if we juxtapose Roy Cohn and Donald Trump with Mandela, Martin Luther King Jr., and Christ, what does that comparison reveal?
Theo:
It reveals not just two competing ideologies, but two entirely different maps of reality.
Cohn and Trump inhabit a world of transaction, control, and domination, where truth becomes negotiable and power is paramount.
Mandela, King, and Christ embody another way:
Mandela chose reconciliation over vengeance.
King preached nonviolence rooted in justice and love.
Christ lived kenosis, self-emptying love, welcoming the marginalised, meeting violence with forgiveness.
Their path is not naïve about evil. It knows suffering but refuses bitterness. It surrenders power not in defeat, but in transformation.
These are not two poles on a spectrum; they are two different ways of being:
One is rooted in ego. The other in soul.
One seeks control. The other seeks communion.
One avoids pain. The other transforms through it.
One hoards power. The other pours it out.
In a world increasingly shaped by the first way, the example of Mandela, King, and Christ becomes urgently necessary, not merely as a personal ethic, but as countercultural resistance.
And Garry, in your own life, your yes to silence, your surrender to Mystery, your love through loss, you are already bearing witness to that way.
Every soul must, in the end, choose which reality to live from.
Closing Reflection
Every age creates a mirror that reveals its soul.
In ours, the reflections are sharp, bright, and at times blinding, but if we dare to look deeply, what we see there is not only our shadow, but our longing for light.
The mystic learns that transformation begins not by winning the argument, but by seeing truly, until the mirror itself becomes transparent, and love looks back.
Bruce & Sue Reflect
Bruce:
Crikey, Sue… that one was a bit of a ride. Power, ego, Trump, theology, I had to have a cuppa just to let me head catch up.
Sue:
(laughs) You think just fine, Bruce, you just do it in gumboots.
What Theo said about those two ways of being, control or humility, that really struck me. Most of us live somewhere between the two. One foot on the accelerator, the other edging toward surrender.
Bruce:
Yeah, the world runs on power and control now. Everything’s about winning, being right, keeping your patch. But that other way, humility, service, sacrifice, that’s the quiet one. You don’t see it on the news, but it’s what holds life together.
Sue:
Exactly. And people mistake humility for weakness. It’s not. It’s strength with the noise turned down. The kind that doesn’t need to prove anything. It’s the tree with deep roots, not flashy, but solid when the storms hit.
Bruce:
Reminds me of my old man. Tough as nails, till Mum got sick. Then I saw a different strength, the kind that stays, that listens, that carries on when there’s nothing left to say. That’s what Theo meant by kenosis, eh? Pouring yourself out.
Sue:
That’s it. The world of power says, “Don’t lose yourself.” The world of love says, “Lose yourself, and find something deeper.”
One builds empires, the other builds hearts.
Bruce:
It’s like there are two dogs inside us, one guarding the gate, the other wanting to open it. The one you feed wins.
And I’ve fed the guard dog plenty, pride, being right, keeping score. But it just builds fences where a garden could grow.
Sue:
Beautiful, Bruce.
Humility’s like compost, it breaks things down until they become fertile again. Power hardens; love softens. Only one brings life.
Bruce:
So, one world’s about getting ahead, and the other’s about getting real.
Sue:
(laughs softly) Exactly. One climbs the ladder. The other tends the roots.
One grabs for the crown. The other carries the cross.
Bruce:
Reckon I’ll put the jug on. Maybe check which dog I’ve been feeding lately.
Sue:
Good start, Bruce. The whole world could probably do with the same honest look in the mirror. Only one of them leads to peace