The Selling of the Sacred
There comes a moment in every life when silence feels like betrayal, when the weight of what we’ve seen, what we’ve survived, refuses to stay quiet in our bones.
To those who walked into sacred spaces searching for peace and found performance instead, I speak directly to you. To those who trusted voices behind pulpits, only to be misled by their motives, this message is yours.
Something holy has been mishandled. The soul, once honored, was treated like a customer. Grace became gated. Mercy was monetized. And still, you stayed, hoping, praying, questioning yourself more than the system, because they taught you to doubt your discernment before you ever doubted their doctrine.
But here’s the truth... what harmed you was not holy. It was theater. It was control. It was commerce wearing a collar. Where God is used as a means, the soul is abused as a tool.
Many have built kingdoms on the backs of the broken, not to uplift, but to elevate themselves. They claim divine authority while silencing dissent. They preach prosperity while ignoring poverty. They trade in fear, not faith. And yet, the sacred cannot be bought, and the Spirit doesn’t live in soundbites or spotlights. The eternal is not bound by stagecraft.
To those still healing: you’re not bitter, you’re awakening. You’re not faithless, you are discerning. There is no shame in walking away from what wounded you. There is wisdom in reclaiming your soul from systems that forgot how to listen.
Jimi Hendrix once said, “When the power of love overcomes the love of power, the world will know peace.”
True faith does not demand perfection, it invites presence. It does not manipulate with guilt, it welcomes with gentleness. It doesn’t hide behind hierarchy, it bends down, washes feet, and breaks bread.
Some will say you’ve lost your way. But you’re not lost. You’ve just refused to follow wolves in shepherd’s clothing. As it says in my faith, “Beware of false prophets who come to you in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly are ravenous wolves.”
No more pretending. No more paying for proximity to the divine. No more tolerating abuse dressed as authority.
The sacred is not found in those who demand to be followed, but in those who walk humbly, serve quietly, and love without strings.
You don’t have to prove your worth to God. You never did. You are already seen, already known, already loved.
And from this ground of truth, a new reverence can rise, one not rooted in fear or control, but in freedom and clarity.
So let the temples of ego fall. Let the systems built on shame collapse, not in hatred, but in hope.
Let the sacred return to the hands of those who are sincere.
