Such beliefs and notions are the root of all mischief in the domain of religion, and they are progressively exhausting that very force which is devotion. The power of the human mind that could have been engaged in countless works of divine beneficence is being squandered by man himself in the mere indulgence of his own inner delusions and false convictions, thereby diminishing all its salutary effects. To kindle the power within—this alone is deemed the natural and sole aim of devotion. If you were to ask the guru or leader of any religious community in the world to speak of the greatest devotee of their own sect, you would find that they would never, even by mistake, utter the name of that person who is most capable and virtuous, most industrious in labor, a sound merchant, a resourceful farmer; whose intellect is sharp, whose conscience is bright, whose love is generous, whose entire life has been developed through the four paths of devotional practice. Whom then would the guru speak of? You would be astonished to discover that it is the person who does nothing but lament ceaselessly about his own soul, who repeatedly walks the path of religious life bewailing the sorrows of childhood and seeking solace in remembered joys to forget present suffering, who goes to the temple of worship and spends all his time shrieking "I am a terrible sinner! Lord, save me!" and does nothing but weep—the one who, above all, seeks the refuge of the guru and bends in devoted service to please him in every way, prostrating not at God's feet but at the guru's—him the guru will proclaim as the greatest devotee. If someone truly believes himself to be a grievous offender, then it is his sacred duty to abandon that sinful habit forthwith and forever, and to free himself from this lamentation for the rest of his life. To cry out repeatedly "I am guilty, I am guilty" and to weep only brings grave harm to the soul; at the same time, it saps the soul's very strength. Devotion is not a thing to be displayed—it is a thing to be used. Many communities in this world cling to their ancient and hollow practices and doctrines, making no effort to alter or develop them according to the needs of the age. As a result, these communities fall progressively behind, and their tangle of delusion grows ever wider and deeper. Any community that fails to keep abreast of the progress of religious science and the new methods of spiritual practice is bound to lag behind. When antiquity loses its relevance in the light of our times, it is the truly religious person's duty to let it go. One may show respect to old and withered doctrines that have become irrelevant to the age, but one cannot walk the path by them.
Those doctrines and paths which once rendered immeasurable service to human development, those systems through which the devotional spirit of humanity found particular expression—yet which have grown obsolete and unsuited in the turning of the ages—cannot be blindly clung to if the world's progress is ever to be secured. A religion that busies itself with propagating its own supremacy, indifferent to human welfare, is nothing but narrow orthodoxy by another name. A faith that teaches its followers to wish for the good and peace of their own community alone, rather than for all humankind, does not follow universal truth, and is therefore false. What strikes one as remarkable is that people of every society and every community languish in some degree of such delusion. Even as science and reason demonstrate through irrefutable evidence the falsity of certain matters, countless individuals—murdering their own intellect at their own hands—continue to cling desperately to those ancient beliefs. Yet such error is not unnatural. It is the human way to follow again the path by which one has once benefited. But there is no sense in walking blindly down the same path forever, without regard for changing circumstance, time, place, or consequence. If a particular antibiotic ceases to work, though it once did, the wise course is to change the medicine, not to swallow it like a blind man. Failure to act thus in timely fashion makes death inevitable. Blindness in the path of faith wreaks many other forms of damage. It does not merely exhaust the efficacy of devotion and squander the mind's strength on futile pursuits; it gradually seals shut all the doors through which devotion might flower and grow. Nursing at the mother's breast, being carried from room to room in her arms, running wild through the lanes, reciting the nursery rhymes of childhood, delighting in the chirping of birds—all these aid the child's physical and mental development. But if one remains in that same place even after growing to manhood, how can the mind's powers then unfold further? When all around you cling blindly to ancient ideas, and you do likewise, how is your own potential to develop? Following ten others, you become like ten others—nothing more, nothing different. The cardinal condition of self-development is difference.
History teaches us that any nation unwilling to transform itself with the times falls behind all others. To progress, one must do the work of progress. How can a person who has done the same thing for ten years expect not to find themselves mired in yesterday? The truth is quite the opposite — the danger is that after ten years they may have fallen fifteen years behind! They will not move forward; it would be no small accomplishment if they haven't slipped further back from where they stood a decade ago. Do the shoes you wore as a child still fit your feet when you grow old? If you spend your whole life telling your child fairy tales, or even present the finest children's literature before them as they mature, how will their mind ever develop?
Suppose you convince someone that a human life becomes meaningful by spending it eternally in childish games, by finding contentment in children's books, by clinging like an infant to their mother's lap, by sucking their thumb — where will that person end up if they believe you? To plant such absurd notions in someone's heart, you must first render them foolish through cunning. A foolish person never attains true religion; the fool's nature remains forever irreligious. Ignorance is the greatest obstacle on the path of genuine devotion. Throughout history, countless beautiful and healthy souls have been caught in this cycle of false aspiration, becoming lifeless, base, and diseased — toppling headlong into ruin. Along the path of devotion, such distortions breed manifold mischiefs. The gravest harm they cause is this: the educated and the wise, witnessing these perversions, kindle a profound revulsion toward devotion and all forms of religious feeling within themselves, coming to believe that religion is merely a sanctuary for the witless. It is for this reason that the number of those utterly disillusioned with religion — those who no longer wish to hear of it at all — grows day by day. Religion is becoming increasingly the last refuge of the ignorant, while the ranks of the truly learned grow visibly thin.
The ignorance and crudeness so often taught in the name of religion have repelled many into severing all ties with it. Among the foremost thinkers of our age, there is scarcely any genuine reverence or affection for established religion. To them, religion means nothing but the gymnasium of blind stubbornness. We hear religion invoked most loudly in the realm of politics. But why? Those possessed of true virtue and humanity feel ashamed to exploit the name of religion for their advantage. Do we see the same hesitation in politics and commerce? The machinery for keeping people fearful and blind through invocation of religion is simple and well-oiled. Now, when learned men speak of the "devout," they conjure the image of the blind, the witless, and the worthless.
Thus has religion been reduced to such a petty childishness that even the mature mind recoils from bearing its name. And so religion is no longer reckoned as a great social force. In most instances, religion survives now by force of custom, not by force of conviction. The blame for this lies with the charlatans and the ignorant who bear its banner. The powerful and influential men of the land do not seem to accord religion any particular respect. In their public conduct and private character, religion leaves no trace. They employ religion merely as a tool for selfish gain, and that too only in outward show. Those who have made distinguished progress in knowledge and prosperity everywhere disregard religious sentiment and religious practice. Those enriched by position and wealth care little for religion either. The mental, moral, and spiritual currents of society flow on in their own course, yet they do not so much as water the threshold of temple or house of worship. The root cause of this grave and perilous decline is the wholesale distortion of religious discipline itself.