How to Choose a Sangha

In any sangha, you will likely find people participating in various Asian-inspired rituals and learning from respected teachers. If all goes well, this will all be in service of helping you along the Way. You will be asked to donate only amounts of time or money that are reasonable. You will constantly be assured that you yourself are Buddha nature, even if you don’t realize it yet. Forms will not be harshly enforced, but will start to make sense to you as ways of creating an atmosphere of harmony. Teachers will be respectful of your physical and emotional boundaries. You will be able to practice while remaining true to your basic moral values.

Care in choosing a sangha is critical, though, since sanghas may lean towards cultishness. While “cult” has become an unfashionable term, designations such as “high control,”  “charismatic,” or “authoritarian” are now often used to mean the same thing. Psychologist Margaret Thaler Singer, in her book, Cults in our Midst, defined a high-control group as one “that forms around a person who claims to have a special mission or knowledge, which they will share with those who turn over most of their decision making to that self-appointed leader.” Cultishness may be most pronounced in those spiritual practices which teach that the guru is an incarnation of the divine who must be worshiped and obeyed. But sanghas in other traditions can also tend towards cultishness.

Cultish leaders may exude charismatic charm. Individuals may find themselves feeling deeply warmed and loved at a mere glance from such a person. Charisma, I think, is neither good nor evil in itself. It just is. It may be put to good purposes or harmful ones—or often some of each. 

Suppose a charismatic teacher inspires a genuine spiritual awakening. What happens next depends greatly on the spiritual and emotional maturity of the teacher. The teacher may understand that while they are a channel for the absolute, they are also still a limited and flawed human being. In this case they will hold the devotion and trust given them by their students very lightly and carefully, knowing that it is rightly directed at the absolute and not at them personally. Their goal in the teacher-student relationship will be to help the student mature. 

Or the teacher may believe that they really are special, deserving of devotion, and infallible. They may come to believe this over time even if they didn’t at the start. They become authoritarian and controlling. Instead of encouraging students’ spiritual growth they (subtly or overtly) encourage students to think of themselves as fundamentally and forever inferior and reliant on them. 

Depending on a student’s level of emotional and spiritual development, a student may gravitate toward overreliance even if their leader isn’t particularly charismatic. Meanwhile, it’s a bit eerie and disconcerting to realize how many of our typical Buddhist practices are also techniques used by authoritarian leaders as part of a gradual and insidious campaign of “thought reform.” These include maintaining silence, moving and chanting in unison, and peer pressure. Such outward uniformity has been shown, in psychological studies, to lead to other sorts of conformity in thinking and behavior. Singer’s book also mentions displays of warmth and affection; sleep deprivation; systems of rewards; notions of special knowledge; encouragement to suspend one’s rational thought; spiritual hierarchy; complex and ever-changing rules; and the use of somewhat obscure language or phrases with changed meanings.  

Because such things can be used for either healthy or unhealthy purposes, Singer tells us that it is often hard to tell a healthy group from a cultish one. People around the fringes of the group may often perceive nothing amiss at all. 

Do you get little twinges now and then, as if something is off? Pay attention to them.

I was even more struck when reading Singer’s book by who it is she says cultish groups attract. You are probably already aware that people who are lonely, depressed, isolated, or in crisis may be particularly susceptible. While we may resist the idea, that description probably fits most of us, at least to some extent. If we weren’t desperately looking for something, why would we give up beautiful days and entertaining pursuits to spend hours sitting silently on a cushion or chanting in a stuffy temple? 

While we might think that intelligence and education should make one cultish-proof, Singer also pointed out that many cults have successfully targeted colleges and universities in their recruitment strategies. 

Most striking to me was Singer’s insight that cults also tend to attract people who want to do good things, people who want to save the world. Many were attracted to Jim Jones’ People Temple in the 1970s, for example, by its message of anti-racism and its utopian ideals. Only much later did they drink poisoned Kool-Aid. The sanghas I’ve been in have been full of good, altruistic people.

So, how can you tell if a Zen group is healthy, versus leaning towards cultishness? This is a case where an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure. It is generally far easier to detect cultishness before you are in the group than after you have become involved. After a controlling leader has sunk their talons deep into your soul, it’s much harder to get loose. 

Some ways of checking out a sangha before you get involved aren’t all that useful. Going by the recommendation of current members is not all that reliable since they themselves may be teacher groupies. Checking the qualifications of the teacher in terms of background, authorization, memberships, or education may tell you something—or may tell you nothing at all. Some of the most cultish teachers have stellar credentials. Noticing that the teachers have written books or recorded talks that you like is definitely unreliable. “Do as I say, not as I do” happens in Zen, just as it does elsewhere. 

I suggest a three-pronged approach. 

Do you see yourself very easily in the positions I described earlier: lonely, depressed, isolated, or in crisis? Your wisest first step out of this may not be into a zendo. Perhaps medication, therapy, or a support group would be a better first move. Spiritual practice will be safer after you know yourself better and have developed healthy personal boundaries. Or perhaps you feel pretty good, but you’re looking for a flashy, fabulous experience? You may be likely to mistake charisma and false promises for spiritual wisdom. You might wait to come until you really know that thrill-seeking can’t address your burning questions.  Before you even go the first time, do internet searches on the teachers’ names, the name of the group, and words such as “cult,” “controversy,” “abuse,” “scandal,” and “misconduct.” Read what you find with an open and critical mind and weigh the arguments or evidence. Be aware that cultish groups often defend themselves with attacks on their detractors.  Also scan the group’s website looking for evidence of total teacher-centrism. This is often signaled by excessively worshipful prose about their many accomplishments. The lack of a meaningful ethics policy or little mention of non-teachers in leadership positions are also worrisome.  After you’re involved, consider asking to see documents related to finances, real estate, or to anything about which you have a concern. Many sanghas say they strive for transparency—until you ask.  If you can, talk with people who have left the sangha. The reasons may be innocuous. But the more I’ve been around sanghas and heard from others, the more stories of disillusionment due to teacher abuses of power I’ve heard.  Running some subtle experiments could be especially revealing. Try suggesting something new or expressing disagreement with a leader or their close associate. How do they respond? Do they act like they are the parent, and you are their unruly child?  Unfortunately, many cultish leaders have fine-tuned empathetic listening skills and may seem to treat you as a reasonable adult. Ask yourself: Does this person actually agree with you, or are they just good at saying what people want to hear?  Consider bringing up the topic of abuses of spiritual power. Too-easy, “Oh yes, that happened, but we’ve already dealt with it,” or a “That’s not a problem here” reactions would be on the mild end of inadequate responses. In a truly cultish group you will be asked, “Why do you always make trouble?” and be talked about as a poor student and possibly mentally disturbed. 

Supplement these investigations by trusting your gut. Do you get little twinges now and then, as if something is off? Pay attention to them. As the Japanese Zen teacher Ikkyu counseled, “Attention. Attention. Attention.” 

This is not to say that all Buddhist groups should be considered cultish. But it’s important that we be aware of the power of our practices to disrupt our usual senses of identity and discernment. When used in a healthy way, sangha practices crack our self-centeredness and open us up to the fact that we are the universe. When used in an unhealthy way, the chink in our self-centeredness may merely mutate into blind loyalty to an untrustworthy high-control leader. 

In spiritual practice, we open our hearts. We need to keep our eyes open as well.

♦

Adapted and abridged from Practicing Safe Zen: Navigating the Pitfalls on the Road to Liberation, © 2025 by Julie Seido Nelson. Reprinted with permission from Monkfish Book Publishing Company.