Lost is over. This is what it was about:

Without appealing to the trappings of organised religion, Lost dealt – albeit less than coherently  – with good, evil, sin, redemption and the immortality of the human spirit; so it could legitimately claim to be “spiritual, not religious”, the title, coincidentally, of a conference sponsored by the Diocese of New Westminster:

Our keynote speakers understand the spiritual and religious culture of this region in a way that few people do. It is an example of the bridge building that this group is talking about. The book Cascadia explains how we are a distinctive bio-region and the argument in the book is that it is the geography – the mountains, the fish, the rivers, the continental divide – that has created who we are and has helped shape us spiritually. We are different here, largely to do with the fact that we are at the end of the continent and we have this amazing geography.

It looks suspiciously as if the writers of Lost may have drawn inspiration from the meanderings of this obscure and largely defunct corner of dessicated Canadian Anglicanism: Lost was also about a distinctive bio-region, an island, and the effect that it had on those who lived on it. Lost was not specifically Christian – although one could argue that it had a firmer grip on the human condition than the Diocese of New Westminster, since it acknowledged the reality of sin.

Over time, Western Anglican Christianity has become more preoccupied with spirituality, mystery and arcane ritual, and less with truth; consequently you find a speaker at the conference sponsored by the Diocese of New Westminster saying,

“In South American shamanic ayahuasca ceremonies I’ve surrendered to the pulsing heart of the green world and immersed in Jewish Sabbath and high holy days gatherings with friends. I’ve probably taken too many workshops on a wide array of psycho-spiritual and body-oriented healing arts. Some people might say I’ve eaten too many vegetables! My root-meditation practice is inspired by the Buddhist tradition. For 45 minutes each morning I sit and breathe in loving-kindness, a focusing practice that strengthens the heart’s innate capacity to open, accept and forgive.”

This has descended from mystery to muddle – where it cavorts with the spirituality of Lost in which, had you watched it, you would have discovered:

• The island has a “heart” of light kept glowing by a stone cork plugging a hole;
• Human guardians of the island live thousands of years after drinking anything – from wine to muddy water – given to them by a previous guardian;
• A man who fell down the corked hole can – and does – turn into a plume of smoke at will;
• Electromagnetism from the corked hole is lethal to humans – apart from one;
• A sequence of doomsday numbers keeps reappearing: their significance is never adequately explained;
• The island can move through time when an antique wheel is turned.

This goes on and on and none of it makes much sense, scientifically or metaphysically.

Of course, Lost, unlike the Diocese of New Westminster, isn’t pretending to be a church and endless unanswered mysteries (well, some were answered) are good for ratings; moreover, Lost has accomplished what it set out to do: make lots of money for everyone involved – it has been a resounding success. It even entertained a few people along the way – something the Anglican Church has never been able to manage.