I have always said that often the religion you were born with

Hear, O seekers of wisdom, the words of Ram Dass, the wandering teacher who bridged the East and the West, who said: “I have always said that often the religion you were born with becomes more important to you as you see the universality of truth.” In this utterance there is a river of meaning, flowing through the mountains of tradition into the ocean of the eternal. He speaks of the paradox that when one’s vision expands to embrace all paths, one often returns home with greater reverence for the faith of one’s birth.

The origin of this truth lies in the journey of Ram Dass himself. Born as Richard Alpert in America, raised in the traditions of Judaism, he became a seeker who roamed beyond the familiar borders of his inheritance. Through the teachings of the East, through meditation, through his bond with his guru Neem Karoli Baba, he tasted the infinite. And yet, in that infinity, he found a renewed respect for the roots of his childhood faith. The universality of truth did not erase his origin but illuminated it, showing that every path is but a window to the same boundless sky.

Consider this mystery: when we are young, we often see our own religion as narrow, as but one candle in the night. We may rebel, wander, or abandon it, believing that truth lies elsewhere. But when the veil is lifted and we see the vastness of the divine, we begin to understand that each candle was lit by the same eternal flame. Then, the prayers we once thought too small now glow with new light. What seemed provincial is revealed as a gateway into the infinite.

Let history bear witness. The great Mahatma Gandhi, though he honored the teachings of Christ, the wisdom of the Buddha, and the songs of the Quran, never abandoned the Hinduism of his birth. Instead, he came to see it more deeply, not as a chain that bound him to one corner of truth, but as a vessel carrying him toward the same ocean into which all rivers flow. By seeing the universality of truth, he returned to his faith with greater reverence, wielding it as a force of compassion and liberation for all.

And so, the teaching of Ram Dass resounds: when your vision broadens, you will not despise your roots, but you will cherish them more. For you will see that they are not prisons, but pathways. The religion of your birth becomes like a mother’s tongue—perhaps once taken for granted, but later understood as the first music of your soul, capable of carrying the deepest truths once you have learned to listen with new ears.

What lesson, then, shall you take? Do not despise the faith of your childhood, nor cling to it in blindness. Walk the path of the seeker, learn from many wells, drink from many streams. But when you find the universality of truth, return to your origin and look upon it anew. See in its rituals, its stories, its prayers, not limits, but symbols pointing to the eternal. In this way, you will live in harmony—rooted, yet open; faithful, yet free.

Practical wisdom follows. Study deeply the faith that nurtured you, but do not fear to explore others. Seek the common light within them, for truth wears many garments. Honor your roots, for they anchor you in the storms of life, even as you stretch your branches toward the sky. And above all, let your practice—whether in temple, mosque, church, or quiet silence—be filled not with division, but with reverence for the One that speaks through all.

Thus the words of Ram Dass endure: the religion of your birth grows in meaning when you behold the universality of truth. Hold fast to this teaching, for it shall guard you from arrogance, from alienation, and from despair. It shall remind you that though the paths differ, the destination is one, and that the roots beneath your feet are not chains but blessings, guiding you back to the eternal Source.