Reflecting on Maslow's Religions Values and Peak Experiences: The Truth Religion Tried to Systemize

There was a time when I thought religion was primarily about beliefs—getting the doctrines right, aligning with the correct interpretation, staying within the boundaries that had been handed down. But the more I’ve reflected, the more I’ve come to see something quite different. What we call religion did not begin as a system of beliefs. It began as experience—raw, unfiltered encounters with something greater, deeper, and more unified than the ordinary sense of self.

This is where the insights of Abraham Maslow resonate deeply with me. Maslow was not a theologian, yet in many ways he uncovered something that theology often obscures. He distinguished between what we might call institutional religion and experiential religion. Institutional religion is what most people think of—structures, doctrines, rituals, and authority. But experiential religion is something entirely different. It is the direct encounter with reality at a higher level of awareness. It is what the mystics were always pointing to before their insights were turned into systems.

Maslow observed that the most psychologically healthy individuals—what he called self-actualizing people—shared certain characteristics. They were not rigid or dogmatic. They were not driven by fear or the need to control others. Instead, they seemed to live from a deeper center, and from that center emerged what he called “Being-values,” or B-values. These were not commandments imposed from the outside. They were qualities that arose naturally from within.

Truth, beauty, goodness, unity, wholeness, aliveness—these were not ideals they were striving to reach. These were realities they were experiencing. It is as if, when a person becomes aligned with their deeper nature, these qualities simply express themselves. This challenges the traditional religious model that says we must be told what is good. Maslow’s work suggests something far more profound: that goodness is not something we are forced into, but something that unfolds when we awaken.

But perhaps his most important contribution is his understanding of what he called “peak experiences.” These are moments when the usual boundaries of the self dissolve. Time seems to fall away. There is a sense of unity with everything. Fear disappears, replaced by peace, joy, or awe. Many would call these moments spiritual or even divine.

What is striking is that Maslow found these experiences were not limited to religious settings. People reported them in nature, in moments of love, in creative work, or simply in quiet reflection. This is a critical point. It suggests that what we have labeled as “spiritual” is not owned by religion. It is a dimension of human consciousness itself.

From my perspective, this aligns closely with the idea that the divine is not something separate from us, but something we participate in. These peak experiences are not intrusions from the outside. They are awakenings from within. They are glimpses of what is always true, but rarely perceived.

Maslow later expanded this idea into what he called “plateau experiences.” Unlike peak experiences, which are intense and temporary, plateau experiences are more stable. They are characterized by a quiet, ongoing sense of appreciation, unity, and presence. It is less about dramatic revelation and more about a steady awareness of the sacred in everyday life.

This, to me, is where the conversation becomes truly meaningful. If peak experiences are glimpses, then plateau experiences are integration. They represent a shift from visiting the mountaintop to living from its perspective. And this is where religion, in its highest sense, could return to its original purpose—not as a system to manage behavior, but as a pathway to awakening.

The tragedy, if we can call it that, is that many religious systems have become more concerned with preserving structure than facilitating experience. The map has replaced the territory. The explanation has replaced the encounter. And in doing so, something essential has been lost.

Yet the door has never closed. What Maslow helps us see is that these experiences are not reserved for a select few. They are part of our human inheritance. They are available in moments of stillness, in love, in creativity, in awareness itself.

In the end, this reframes everything. The question is no longer which system is right. The question becomes: are we awakening? Are we moving toward wholeness, toward unity, toward the direct experience of what is real?

Because if Maslow is right—and I believe he is—then the deepest truths of religion were never meant to be believed. They were meant to be experienced.