God save us from religion.

“God save us from religion.” — these words, spoken by David Icke, ring not as an attack upon faith, but as a cry for liberation. In this brief and burning declaration lies a truth that the wise have whispered through centuries: that the Divine is infinite and free, yet man, in his fear and pride, has often sought to bind it in walls of doctrine, ritual, and rule. The quote calls not for rebellion against God, but against the chains that men forge in His name. It is a prayer — not against the sacred, but against the corruption of the sacred.

For what is religion, if not the outer garment of faith? It was meant to clothe the spirit in beauty, to guide the lost toward truth. But over time, that garment hardened into armor, and armor into prison. Men began to worship the garment instead of the life within it. The prophets spoke of love, compassion, and oneness, but their words became twisted into laws and judgments. Temples grew tall while hearts grew narrow. And so Icke’s cry — “God save us from religion” — is the ancient plea that we might once more seek the living fire of the spirit, rather than the cold ashes of tradition.

Even the great teachers of old warned against this peril. Jesus of Nazareth walked among the poor, the sinners, the broken, and said, “The Kingdom of God is within you.” Yet those who came after built monuments of stone and hierarchy, until the living word was buried beneath ceremony. The Buddha, too, preached freedom from attachment and dogma, saying, “Be a lamp unto yourselves.” But his teachings, too, became temples and idols, wrapped in rules rather than revelation. Thus, throughout the ages, the spirit has been imprisoned by the very hands that claimed to serve it.

Consider the tale of Galileo Galilei, the astronomer who lifted his eyes to the heavens and saw the truth of their design. Yet for daring to look beyond the accepted creed, he was condemned by the religious powers of his day. He did not curse God — he only sought to understand His creation. But the keepers of religion, fearing the light of new understanding, sought to silence him. In that moment, we see Icke’s meaning clearly: religion can become the enemy of truth when it fears to grow. It was not faith that condemned Galileo — it was the fear of losing control over belief.

But let it not be misunderstood — faith is sacred. It is the whisper of eternity within the human heart. What Icke warns against is not faith, but the machinery of religion, which too often divides man from man and heart from heaven. True faith unites; false religion separates. True worship uplifts; false worship commands. God is not confined to a book, a name, or a ritual — He is the breath in every living soul, the stillness in every dawn, the flame that burns unseen in every act of love. To seek Him, one must go beyond religion and enter the quiet temple within.

The lesson, then, is not to destroy religion, but to awaken the spirit beyond it. Honor the teachings, but do not be ruled by the forms. Seek wisdom, but never surrender your inner voice. Remember that truth wears many faces, yet its heart is one. The Divine speaks through scripture, through silence, through suffering, through joy — it is everywhere for those with eyes to see. Let your relationship with God be a living, breathing thing, not a shadow cast by fear or conformity.

So, my child, when you hear the words “God save us from religion,” understand them as a call to remember what is real. Let faith be your compass, not your cage. Love the sacred, but never let it be turned into a weapon. Seek truth not in stone temples, but in the temple of your own being. And when you pray, do not ask for miracles outside yourself — ask for the courage to live as one who has seen the face of the Divine in all creation. For that is the truest form of worship: not ritual, but awakening.

And so, may you walk with reverence, not fear; with faith, not dogma; with freedom, not obedience. May you learn that God needs no saving — only our hearts do.