Back when Jesus was starting this religion that we now know as Christianity — assuming he actually was starting it, which is a matter of some disagreement — one of his best-known sidekicks was John the Baptist. Although he's gotten a lot less of the glory over intervening years, there is a sect still around today, the Mandaeans, that considers JB to be their last great teacher and healer. These survivors in the Gnostic tradition make their home in the border territories of southern Iraq and Iran, but also have a significant contingent in Baghdad. Alas, since they don't align themselves with any major religion, they've been persecuted by pretty much all of them at one point or another. Today there are no more than 100,000 Mandaeans left in the world.

Like the Christians, the Mandaeans have their early roots in Judaism, but unlike their distant cousins, they are opposed to circumcision and perceive it as body mutilation. When hostile rulers have force circumcised the men, it's been considered a violation, almost like a rape for a woman.

An outstanding characteristic of the Mandaeans is their daily ablutions. Although they live in the desert, they repeatedly wash all parts of their bodies in fresh running water from one of the rivers meandering through this valley. It's not about being clean per se, but about being clean in the eyes of God.

By the 19th century, persecution and cholera had wiped out virtually the entire Mandaean priesthood, which even included women, so two enterprising and perhaps dedicated young men of about age 20 consecrated each other into the ranks of the priesthood, enabling the survivors of their sect to get married and carry on. Many at this point left the religion and joined Islam instead, apparently changing religions as easily as we change neighborhoods.

Two thousand years ago, religion was more than just a belief system; it also provided community, and in the best situations, that hasn't changed. One of my sisters recently changed religious affiliations essentially because she liked the people at the new church better. A spiritual community is a beautiful thing, but I've yet to find one that isn't laden with hierarchy and egos, rules and politics.

Recent studies show that more Americans are leaving churches, temples and mosques to forge their own spiritual paths (though still only 15 percent), so perhaps the "religions" of the future will depart from the old heirarchical structure. If we want to survive for the next two thousand years, we could take some lessons from the Mandaeans.