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A lonely journey…

A lonely journey…

by | Jun 10, 2025

“Institutionalized religions, considered from their historical formation, are founded on a misunderstanding that not only runs through them, but constitutes them from their very foundations. When confronted with mystery, the disciples were unable to sustain the tension of a quest that demanded solitude, silence, surrender, and radical exposure. Unable to inhabit that wilderness, they sought in the proximity of others the illusion of a certainty they could not yet find in their own experience. They confused closeness with clarity, group cohesion with a lucidity that can only be achieved individually. They clung to each other like blind people who, holding hands, imagine that contact can replace vision, clarity. From there, from that impulse to alleviate vertigo, arose the institutional machinery of the sacred: temples, doctrines, theologies, superstitions, beliefs, hierarchies, and authority. Not as the natural unfolding of a shared truth, but as protection against the impossible to define.
However, truth does not circulate through accumulation or contagion. It is not inherited, transferred, or sustained by numbers. Its appearance is always singular, unrepeatable, and belongs to the non-transferable realm of the inner self. It is not born of the relationship between disciples, but of the fire that each one, in the solitude of their presence before the master, decides to light—or not. For this reason, it is imprecise to speak of community or collectivity in this context. There is no established brotherhood among disciples, but merely a convergence. They are not linked horizontally, but share a direction. They advance separately, without proclamation, guided by a common light that is not shared, even though they all walk toward it. And if they cross paths on that journey, they do not hold back: they recognize each other, perhaps smile, and continue on their way. There is no bond that ties them together, no form that organizes them. What remains is a discreet, real resonance that does not fix identities or raise emblems. Only that deserves the name sacred. Everything else—systems, creeds, institutions, doctrines, hierarchies—is administration wrapped in fervor. It is only domination and control disguised as spirituality or religious enthusiasm.
The true disciple does not found organizations. He does not build structures, institute traditions, or leave schools or organizations. His last gesture is simply to disappear.”
Prabhuji
The religion to come

The religion to come

by | May 28, 2025

“There is no higher religion than a fully lived conscience. However, we remain surrounded by doctrinal systems, creeds, rites, ceremonies, and names that attempt to replace what can only spring from authentic inner transformation. Religiosity is not reduced to the repetition of scriptures, attendance at temples, or the recitation of formulas. In its most genuine form, it consists of a way of being in the world: touching reality with reverence, looking with discernment, loving with integrity.
Those who are truly religious are not defined by the tradition they profess or the text they recite. They are not Hindu, Muslim, Jewish, Christian, Jain, Druze, or Buddhist. They are, in essence, devoted to truth, beauty, and love. Everything they touch is ennobled, not by supernatural powers, but because they have learned to see with respect. That gaze is their prayer; that attentive gesture, their form of consecration.
It is inconsistent to live in the emotional turmoil of a home marked by conflict and then expect to find, for one hour a week, the serenity of the sacred in a religious space. No one can dwell in anger, judgment, or violence for most of the day and then suddenly proclaim themselves at peace. The sacred cannot be improvised. Love cannot be represented. That which is not born of inner silence cannot be sustained.
Being religious is not adhering to a belief system, but embodying a way of being in which compassion flows without calculation, gratitude becomes a vital breath, and the search for God dissolves into its immediate recognition. Those who have attained this sensitivity perceive the divine in every manifestation of life: in trees, flowers, clouds, and stones; in the weary face of a stranger; in the eyes of an adversary; in the sleeping body of a partner; in the laughter of a child; or in the frailty of an elderly person. Wherever there is conscious life, there is a meaningful presence. What is truly sacred does not dwell in stone idols, but in ignored faces. It does not reside in repeated ritual gestures, but in the dignity with which those who have been excluded are treated. Those who do not recognize God in the poor, in the marginalized, or in foreigners have not yet understood what is divine. And those who do not glimpse that same presence in a woman have not understood what it means to venerate.
Until now, religion, like civilization, is still an unfulfilled promise or an untransformed form. However, that possibility remains open. We can choose to realize it. We can make our homes true temples, transforming kitchens, bedrooms, and streets into spaces of care, beauty, and respect. Even our simplest actions—the way we look, speak, and touch—can become daily offerings. The religion that is to come will not be just another doctrine. It will be a lucid way of living. It will not be directed toward the distant, but toward the present. It will not depend on authorities or structures, but on an awakened relationship with the immediate. It will have no name, no headquarters, no hierarchies. It will be silent as dawn, solid as tenderness, luminous as the truth that needs no defense. We must not wait for this transformation to come from outside. It begins within oneself. It is born when we choose to see the world with wonder, when we leave behind inherited gestures that no longer mean anything, when we listen with real attention, when we give without interest, when we forgive without being asked. Then, without the need for proclamations or dramatizations, true religion emerges: the one that is not taught, but embodied.
And if that fire begins to burn in you, it can ignite in others. Perhaps, for the first time, we can say without artifice that religion has happened. That the spirit has descended into the realm of the lived. That the divine has ceased to be an idea… and has begun to be life.”
Prabhuji
The question

The question

by | May 17, 2025

“There is no rigid boundary between faith and skepticism. No conviction, no ”ism,” no belief or disbelief is held without cracks, and no one lives their entire life within a single category. There are believers who, in the darkness of suffering, doubt everything. And there are atheists who, faced with the mystery of birth or death, remain silent with deep respect and reverence.
The labels that separate humans into absolute blocks are convenient simplifications, but they are inaccurate. They do not do justice to the contradictory richness of human consciousness. Every human being has at some time felt the temptation to pray, even without believing. And every believer has at some time felt a sense of emptiness, even without wanting to.
What matters is not the name we give to what transcends or moves us. What matters is the authenticity with which we respond to pain, to beauty, to the world, to others. Life does not demand that we choose between God and nothingness. It demands that we respond honestly to that which, even if we do not understand it, affects us with inescapable force and depth. To reduce another person to their beliefs or lack of faith is to forget that we all share the confusion in the face of death, the wonder of life, the longing for meaning, and the need for love.
Religion does not guarantee spiritual depth, nor does the absence of religion exclude nobility of soul. Both paths can be profound or empty, depending on how they are lived. It is not a question of uniting religions and atheisms. It is a question of ceasing to defend boundaries where there is continuity, transition, and mixing. Human beings do not fit into rigid and stable definitions.
What unites us is not a doctrine… it is the question. It is the humility of not having all the answers, and the courage to keep searching without despising others.
Instead of dividing ourselves by what we believe, we can recognize each other by what we feel and experience: by marveling at the incomprehensible, the vertigo of being alive, the urgency of living with meaning.”
Prabhuji
Reflections on the transformation of the message of Jesus of Nazareth

Reflections on the transformation of the message of Jesus of Nazareth

by | May 6, 2025

“Over time, critical reflection on the transformation of the message of Jesus of Nazareth through various historical processes following his death has taken on special relevance. This transformation culminated in the consolidation of an ecclesiastical institution associated with imperial power, whose features differed considerably from the original message preached by Jesus in Palestine.
The founding of Christianity cannot be attributed to the authorities who promoted his condemnation, although certain later practices reproduce mechanisms similar to those he directly criticized.
With the institutional development of the Church, forms of legitimization, exclusion, and exercise of authority were incorporated that contradict the unstructured character of the original movement.
The Gospel of John clearly identifies the political and religious motivations that led to his execution:
Συνεβουλεύσαντο οὖν οἱ ἀρχιερεῖς καὶ οἱ Φαρισαῖοι ἵνα ἀποκτείνωσιν αὐτόν·
“So the chief priests and the Pharisees took counsel to put him to death.”
(John 11:53).
The cause of this decision was not a simple doctrinal disagreement, but a reaction to the threat his teaching posed to the balance between the temple and the Roman occupation.
If we let him go like this, everyone will believe in him, and the Romans will come and destroy both our place and our nation.
“If we let him go on like this, everyone will believe in him, and the Romans will come and destroy both our place and our nation.”
(John 11:48).
In its early decades, Christianity was a marginal, eschatological movement that was highly critical of religious ritualization and the hierarchical institutionalization of spiritual experience.
The early Christian communities were scattered, frequently persecuted, lacked a fixed structure, and held varying interpretations of the figure and teachings of Jesus. In this pre-legal recognition stage, Christianity was characterized by remarkable theological diversity, with Gnostic, apocalyptic, and sapiential influences and no established canon.
The situation changed radically in the fourth century with the conversion of Emperor Constantine and the promulgation of the Edict of Milan in 313 AD. This political-religious shift began a process of incorporating Christianity into the Roman state apparatus, marking its transition to a structured religion.
Not only was its practice legalized, but its doctrine was also reconfigured with the aim of consolidating the ideological unity necessary for the cohesion of the Empire.
Ecumenical councils, dogmatic formulas, and liturgical canons progressively defined an orthodoxy under episcopal control and in close relationship with civil power.
The figure of Jesus, itinerant preacher, critic of legalism, and promoter of a direct relationship with the divine, was reinterpreted by official theology. This reinterpretation responded both to theological needs and imperial interests, adapting his image to a new political and ecclesiastical context.
Thus, from the proclamation of a Kingdom not of this world… Ἡ βασιλεία ἡ ἐμὴ οὐκ ἔστιν ἐκ τοῦ κόσμου τούτου or “My kingdom is not of this world” (John 18:36),
there was a shift to a Church embedded in imperial structures.
The new Church assumed legal, administrative, and symbolic functions, operating as a mediator between the sacred and the state order. This phenomenon should not be interpreted as a conscious betrayal, but rather as the result of a complex institutional reconfiguration. The goal was to ensure the survival of the message in political and cultural conditions profoundly different from those of the Palestinian context of the first century.
The historical tension is not limited to the execution of Jesus, but continues in the doctrinal transformation of his legacy into structures that he had openly criticized.”
Prabhuji