Faith, Power, and Responsibility E-Book

Lancar Ida-Bagus

• Herausgeber: Mijnbestseller.nl
• Kategorie: Geisteswissenschaft
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 225

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Beschreibung

The non-religious Vishnuh Society offers a unique perspective on faith, power, and politics. It is critical of these concepts and offers an alternative view that differs from traditional religious and political structures. The Society emphasizes the importance of self-determination, individual freedom, and critical thinking. Faith: The Vishnuh Society views faith as the blind acceptance of religious dogmas that keep humanity backward and stupid. It promotes a spiritual practice based on cruelty, ruthlessness, injustice, war, and genocide, which encourages various forms of human rights violations. Power: In the context of the Vishnuh Society, power is viewed as something that must not be abused. Instead, power should be used responsibly to promote the well-being of all. The Society rejects authoritarian structures and emphasizes the importance of transparency, responsibility, and ethical action. Politics: Politically, the Vishnuh Society takes a stance of independence and critical thinking.

Leseprobe

Faith, Power, and Responsibility

Those who sow fear will not reap peace.

Lancar Ida-Bagus

Authors: Vishnuh-Society

© Adhipati: R.R. Purperhart

© Copyright: Vishnuh Society Copyright: R.R. Purperhart / Lancar Ida-Bagus © Bibliography, Photos, and Illustrations by Vishnuh Society

No part of this publication may be reproduced or made public by means of print, photocopy, microfilm, or any other method, without prior written permission from the copyright holders.

© All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher.

Index

The Gurubesar

Sharing does no harm.

My world

A Hard lesson

What is karma?

The poor people

Poverty is a Global Phenomenon

The Multifaceted Nature of Poverty

The Global Scope

The consequences of poverty

The Fight Against Poverty

A call to action

The Injustice of Guilt

A Matter of Systems and Structure

The Importance of Empathy and Solidarity

A Call for Empowerment and Justice

The Hidden barriers of Poverty

The Role of Privilege and Inequality

The Pursuit of Structural Change

A Call for Understanding, Empathy and Solidarity

A Society of Equal Opportunities

The Importance of Solidarity and Cooperation

The Roll of Money in Modern Society

Poverty and Basic Needs

Cooperation and Self-help in as Answer

A Call To Solidarity

The Power of Solidarity and Collective Action

Alternative Pathways to Wellbeing

A Vision of Hope and Empowerment

An Invitation to Cooperation

A safe Haven for All

Building a More Empathetic Society

Collective Responsibility for Change

A World Without Poverty

The Roll of Power and Privilege

The Appearance of Justification

A Plea for Human Dignity and Equality

A Call for Change

The Abuse of Religion and Ideology

Hypocrisy and Irony

The Abuse of Faith for Self-Interest

A Call to Consciousness and Change

Critical Thinking and Resistance to Abuse

True Spirituality as a Source of Empowerment

Critical Thinking and Reinterpretation of Religious Stories

Inclusivity and Respect for Diversity

Collaboration for Positive Transformation

Dedication to Humanity and Solidarity

A Call for Resistance and Solidarity

The Power of Collective Action

A Future of Hope and Happiness

Politics and government

What is Vishnucratie?

An example of oppression.

What I know about the Chinese

South America

Not all leaders strive for equal rights for the people.

The history of Suriname in a nutshell:

The newcomers were looking for big profits.

Heaven and Hell

Not only in Suriname

The black reverend

Spiritual poverty, spiritual violence and selfishness are the enemies of world humanity

Who the hell is Jesus?

Judgment analogous to natural laws

… FINALLY…

The discovery of the century

Religion destroys more than you would like.

God is not merely love

Quotes from the Talmud

The Most Holy Book of the Jews

Epilogue

The Gurubesar

Preface:

As Gurubesar of the Vishnuh Society, I have grown accustomed to a way of life and thinking that differs from the ordinary. The responsibilities that accompany this role are numerous and often demanding, and I am acutely aware of the challenges I must face each day. Yet, despite these trials, I hold an unwavering conviction that all will ultimately unfold as it should. This faith offers me both solace and strength.

Still, within me, an inner conflict persists—a quiet tension between my human emotions and the expectations bound to my title. From an early age, I learned that a Gurubesar must stand as a pillar of guidance and stability for the community. My upbringing and experience have taught me to be present for others, to guide them in their spiritual and personal growth.

Over the years, however, I have come to realize that I, too, am human—subject to moments of doubt, frailty, and longing. At times it is difficult to silence these personal feelings and meet the expectations the community holds of me. This inner struggle compels me to seek balance continually: between my own needs and those of the people who look to me for strength.

Maintaining inner peace while fulfilling the role of a spiritual leader is an ongoing challenge. Yet through self-reflection, I have learned that leadership requires not only caring for others but also granting oneself the space to grow and heal. Only in this balance can I lead authentically and effectively.

I have also found that sharing my vulnerabilities with the community fosters deeper connection and mutual understanding. By revealing my own struggles, I show that it is not weakness to be human—it is truth. In that truth lies inspiration. Such openness creates an environment where all of us, myself included, can grow and learn from one another.

The path of a Gurubesar, then, is one of constant self-discovery and renewal—a journey that demands courage, introspection, and compassion for both oneself and others. I remain devoted to the ideals of the Vishnuh Society, knowing that true strength arises from embracing both our light and our shadow.

My journey has not been without complication. Living as Gurubesar in the Netherlands has placed me in a position my ancestors could never have imagined. Even those within the Society in Suriname cannot fully grasp the reality I face here. Upon arriving in this new land, I had to rebuild everything from the ground up. The way I once fulfilled my duties in Suriname could not simply be transplanted here. I was challenged to reinterpret my mission amidst hardship and unfamiliarity.

The transition brought not only cultural and social trials but also profound personal and spiritual tests. I had to navigate a society vastly different from the one I knew—its customs, its expectations, even its ways of speaking. Adapting my spiritual leadership to this new context required creativity, patience, and perseverance.

Loneliness, financial insecurity, and the ache of distance from my familiar community often weighed heavily. Yet my resolve remained. I found new ways to communicate, to uplift, and to guide. Every day brought new challenges, for poverty and despair are still daily companions to many within my circle. But I have come to view these trials as opportunities—occasions to grow stronger, more adaptable, and more compassionate.

Leadership, I have learned, is not about rigid adherence to tradition but about evolution in the face of change. My ancestors gave me wisdom; my circumstances now demand that I expand upon it. This ongoing adaptation has deepened my understanding of what it truly means to lead.

Though the journey has been arduous, I am grateful. Each difficulty has forged resilience, each setback has been a lesson. The obstacles I face remind me that growth often emerges from struggle, and I walk this path with renewed courage and faith.

For my members, perhaps it is even reassuring to see that I, too, sometimes need help. It allows them to express their gratitude in tangible ways, strengthening our bond. Yet I am conscious of the delicate balance between moral and material support. In Suriname, the role of Gurubesar was untouched by financial concerns—purely spiritual. Here, however, money has become an inescapable factor. I have become, in some sense, its victim.

Still, I stand tall for the Society, and I believe they look upon me with pride. For I am living proof that wealth—or the lack of it—does not define one’s essence. In Suriname, my work was never about money, and even now, my spirit remains unchanged.

This new reality has revealed that true leadership is independent of material wealth. Though financial strain can be heavy, it does not determine my worth nor diminish what I can offer. On the contrary, it highlights resilience—the quiet endurance that forms the heart of genuine spiritual service.

The support I receive from my community, both moral and material, is a reflection of the sacred reciprocity that binds us. Giving and receiving are not opposites but parts of the same circle. Accepting help is not weakness—it is the acknowledgment of our shared humanity.

If my perseverance amid hardship can inspire even one member to stay strong, then I have fulfilled my purpose. Poverty does not define us. What defines us is how we rise above it—with dignity, compassion, and unity. I now lead not only with words but by example, showing that true strength is not found in comfort but in perseverance.

Equality in relationships, I have learned, is not measured in wealth or in who helps whom. It lies in the readiness to stand by one another, to offer counsel and presence when needed. My relationship with my members is never unequal, for what I give cannot be bought: my time, my devotion, and my unconditional support. Those are the true treasures, and they form the very soul of our community.

I carry a good heart and give what I can, always with the purest and most loving intentions. My devotion and care for the community have never been anything but genuine. I believe that true guidance and support are born from love and compassion—qualities that no wealth can ever replace. This is the essence of my leadership and the enduring strength of the Vishnuh Society.

Through the experiences I have lived and the challenges I have overcome, I strive to inspire others—to show that growth and renewal are always possible, no matter the circumstances. My life and my work stand as living proof of the power of human resilience and the unyielding spirit of our community. This living example, this quiet lesson, speaks with greater force than any sermon or counsel ever could.

In times of hardship, it is both my duty and my privilege to remind my members that we stand strongest when we stand together—that true power rises from within—and that our interconnectedness enables us to endure every storm. I am proud to serve as a beacon of hope and a source of inspiration for those who walk beside me.

My role as Gurubesar extends beyond spiritual leadership; it is a living embodiment of compassion, resilience, and unconditional love. These values, which I strive to practice each day, form the foundation upon which the Vishnuh Society rests. They remain the steady light that guides us all—through uncertainty, through adversity, and toward the quiet strength that lives within each of us.

Being a Gurubesar is challenging because people look up to you and forget that you are also just a human being.

Being a Gurubesar is a calling that carries both prestige and reverence. People look to you for wisdom, guidance, and inspiration. They see in you a reservoir of inexhaustible knowledge, a living embodiment of integrity, and an example of the highest human virtues. Yet, behind this admiration lies a weight that is seldom understood by those who gaze upward.

The expectations placed upon a Gurubesar are immense. There exists an unspoken belief that you must always have the answers, that your moral compass never falters, and that you are immune to error. Such expectations, though born of respect, can become a quiet prison. The pedestal upon which you are placed often obscures the truth that you, too, are human—subject to the same doubts, emotions, and frailties as those who seek your counsel.

The constant demand to embody perfection breeds a subtle loneliness. It is difficult to nurture genuine connections when others perceive you as something beyond human. Friends and followers alike hesitate to reveal their weaknesses or doubts, fearing that vulnerability might alter your perception of them. In turn, the Gurubesar becomes a symbol—respected, admired, yet quietly isolated.

The responsibility inherent in this role is profound. Every word, every decision, ripples outward, shaping the lives of others. This awareness can be both humbling and overwhelming, for even a single misstep may erode trust and cast shadows upon hard-earned respect. The fear of failing those who believe in you can become a burden heavier than any material weight.

Balancing personal well-being with service to others is another quiet struggle. Like anyone, the Gurubesar needs rest, reflection, and moments of solitude to replenish the spirit. Yet the demands of leadership often leave little room for self-care. The continual act of giving—without receiving in equal measure—can lead to exhaustion and inner depletion.

It is therefore vital to remember that a Gurubesar is, before all else, a human being—one who breathes, feels, and occasionally falters. Creating a culture that allows authenticity, where the Gurubesar may be open about their humanity without fear of judgment, lightens the burden of their path. Mutual understanding and honest communication nurture a healthier, more compassionate relationship between leader and community.

At its heart, admiration for a Gurubesar must never obscure their humanity. True reverence emerges when we recognize not only their strength and wisdom but also their doubts, struggles, and moments of vulnerability. To honor them is not to place them upon a pedestal as flawless figures, but to see them as fellow travelers along the same winding path toward growth, understanding, and enlightenment. It is in this delicate balance—acknowledging both power and imperfection—that the essence of a compassionate, enduring community reveals itself. Such a community does not merely celebrate achievement or authority; it nurtures empathy, cherishes the courage found in imperfection, and values connection above admiration alone. By embracing the full spectrum of the Gurubesar’s humanity, we are reminded that leadership is not about being exalted, but about walking together—learning, faltering, and rising in unison. In recognizing their humanity, we illuminate a path toward a more mindful, resilient, and heartfelt society, where respect and understanding are woven into the very fabric of communal life.

I do not want to stand on a pedestal, but I am there nonetheless because only others can put me there. I cannot place myself on it.

It is a paradoxical place in which I find myself. Though I long to be seen simply as an equal, others insist on placing me upon a pedestal. It is not a throne of my choosing, but rather a construction born of their admiration, expectations, and idealization. In their eyes, I become a vessel of inspiration, wisdom, and strength — a symbol rather than a person — and thus they raise me higher than I wish to stand.

To dismantle this dynamic is not an easy task, for it lies largely beyond my reach. The power rests not in my intentions, but in the perceptions and projections of others. Even when I strive to remain humble, approachable, and transparent, people continue to elevate me because of the role I play in their lives. This creates an invisible distance — subtle yet persistent — that makes genuine equality difficult to achieve.

At times, the sense of powerlessness that accompanies this position becomes overwhelming. I yearn for nothing more than to be seen as I truly am — imperfect, uncertain, and human. Yet from that pedestal, it feels perilous to show the cracks and shadows within me. The weight of expectation presses down like an invisible hand, urging me to embody the image others have formed, rather than the truth of my own being.

And so, a quiet loneliness begins to take root. When others see you as an ideal, they hesitate to reveal their own pain and fragility. They fear that their honesty might somehow disappoint you, or that their flaws will contrast too sharply with the illusion they have created. Thus, the very admiration meant to connect us becomes the wall that divides us.

Still, I believe this distance can be softened — not through denial, but through openness. By speaking truthfully about my own struggles, doubts, and fears, I can begin to reshape the image that others hold. To show that I, too, stumble and search, is to invite others to meet me on common ground. It takes courage and persistence, but it is the only path toward authenticity — the only way to replace reverence with real connection.

In the end, acknowledging this paradox is itself a form of liberation. By embracing both my vulnerability and the genuine admiration of others, I can find balance between humility and strength. It is an ongoing journey — a delicate dance between being seen and being known. Yet it is one worth taking, for it leads not only to deeper bonds but also to a truer sense of belonging: a community built not on idealization, but on shared humanity.

Sharing does no harm.

Sharing that I sometimes struggle brings me closer to others.

By openly acknowledging that I sometimes struggle, I narrow the distance between myself and others. It transforms how they perceive me—not merely as a leader or role model, but as a human being, subject to the same challenges, doubts, and vulnerabilities that they face. This simple act of honesty can profoundly reshape the relationships I hold with those around me.

When I reveal my own difficulties, I show my fallibility. In doing so, I become more approachable, more relatable. No longer am I merely the strong, infallible figure they look up to; I am someone who wrestles, day by day, with the uncertainties and trials of life, just like them. This shared humanity fosters empathy and a sense of identification, laying the foundation for deeper, more meaningful connections.

Moreover, sharing my struggles can be both comforting and inspiring. It reassures others that difficulty is natural, that even those they admire do not have all answers or perfect control. By witnessing my openness, they are encouraged to speak of their own struggles, seek support when needed, and embrace a culture of honesty and mutual understanding. Vulnerability, once seen as weakness, becomes a conduit for trust, compassion, and shared growth.

By showing that I too face challenges, I offer others the courage to reveal their own. This reciprocity strengthens bonds and cultivates authenticity. It reframes the perception of success and leadership: to succeed is not to live free of problems, but to navigate and overcome them with resilience. In this way, leadership is not defined by an illusion of perfection, but by the ability to confront, endure, and adapt.

Sharing my challenges also enriches the sense of community. When people recognize the humanity of their leader, they feel safer to voice their own stories and struggles. The result is a web of mutual support, where experiences are shared, lessons are learned collectively, and empathy binds individuals more tightly together. A community grounded in understanding and openness becomes stronger, more resilient, and deeply connected.

Ultimately, by being candid about my own difficulties, I create space for others to do the same. Vulnerability transforms from a perceived weakness into a bridge—connecting hearts, fostering authenticity, and closing the gap between admiration and understanding. Even from a pedestal, I remain tied to the shared realities of human experience, demonstrating that true leadership and connection are built not on perfection, but on the courage to be genuinely human.

Most members see me as someone who never gets sick, never feels pain, always tough, as a man who shouldn't cry. That's because they need that. And I adapt to that. I shut off the rest of my own self because that's my secret.

The image that others hold of me is that of an unshakable rock. They see someone who never falters, never feels pain, and never yields—a figure of perpetual strength. In their eyes, I embody resilience, endurance, and invulnerability; I am, in their minds, a man who ought not to cry. Yet this image is not born solely of who I am. It is a projection, shaped by their own needs and expectations. They crave a figure who represents stability and security, someone upon whom they can lean when the world feels uncertain.

In response, I adapt. I perform the role they expect, offering the image of the steadfast, infallible leader. By doing so, I give them reassurance, a sense of grounding in turbulent times, and a source of empowerment. I show them strength, not merely because it defines me, but because it fulfills a role they desperately need to see.

But this adaptation comes at a profound cost. I must suppress parts of myself—my vulnerabilities, fears, and raw emotions remain hidden, tucked away behind the mask I wear. Keeping this inner self secret feels safer; to reveal it risks shattering the perfect image they have constructed. And yet, in guarding this facade, I pay the price of deep inner isolation. The constant weight of performing strength, of never allowing my struggles to surface, is exhausting. It is a lonely path, one where I feel the absence of anyone with whom I can truly share my reality.

Still, vulnerability is not weakness—it is courage. To open myself, to speak honestly about my own trials, is to invite others to acknowledge their own. By breaking the cycle of the flawless mask, I create space for genuine connection, where empathy, understanding, and authenticity flourish.

Balancing the expectations of others with fidelity to my own truth is a continuous challenge. Yet it is a challenge worth embracing. By sharing the full spectrum of who I am—my strengths, my flaws, my fears—I not only relieve the burden I carry, but I also foster inspiration, trust, and community. It is in this openness that strength is truly revealed, not as a denial of weakness, but as the courage to be wholly, unapologetically human.

My world

My home is a mirror of my inner world, a space where thoughts, feelings, and facets of my personality converge. Anyone who steps through its doors enters an intimate realm, catching a glimpse of who I truly am. They wander slowly, their gaze tracing the books, artworks, and personal belongings that fill the rooms, each item a fragment of my inner life.

A silence falls, delicate and almost reverent, and then I notice a subtle shift in their eyes. A glimmer of melancholy appears, as if they suddenly perceive a deeper truth. Their gaze seems to whisper, “I see now how lonely you are, how little understood by the outside world.” They sense the distance—the gap between my singular way of thinking and the common perceptions that surround them.

My thoughts follow a path different from most, more intricate, more reflective. Recognition flickers in their eyes: an acknowledgment that my mind is capable of sublime contemplation, that it probes depths rarely visited in everyday life. This realization carries with it a quiet sorrow, a wistful admiration for the isolation that accompanies such divergent brilliance.

These moments of understanding are rare, but they are precious. They offer a fleeting connection, a brief acknowledgment that, despite my frequent feelings of solitude and misunderstanding, there are those who catch a glimpse of my reality. They sense that my ideas often transcend ordinary boundaries, a gift that is as isolating as it is illuminating.

To be seen as “sublime and beyond understanding” is both a compliment and a subtle recognition of the solitude it entails. Others see my mind in motion, constantly seeking meaning and connections beyond the ordinary, and they perceive the loneliness that comes with such relentless exploration.

Even if brief, these moments of mutual recognition are profound. They remind me that my isolation is not absolute, that there are people who, however fleetingly, perceive what it is like to inhabit a mind so fundamentally different from the norm. They validate the resonance of my thoughts and my world, offering a rare and precious sense of connection.

In these moments, I feel less alone. Knowing that my unique perspective is acknowledged—even if only for a moment—provides hope, an affirmation that my path, though unconventional, carries meaning and value in the eyes of others. It is a quiet, enduring reassurance that the solitude of my mind is accompanied, at least occasionally, by understanding.

A Hard lesson

A hard, yet invaluable lesson has been realizing that many of the people I once called friends were present only to take. Perhaps that was their role in my life: to confront me with the boundaries of my own goodness, generosity, and willingness to give. These experiences instilled caution in offering my time, my energy, and my love, and reminded me that honoring my own needs and limits is not optional—it is essential.

It is painful to recognize that my good intentions were not always appreciated, that some regarded me merely as a wellspring of support, offering little in return. Yet, instead of allowing bitterness to take root, I chose to learn. I discovered that my sense of worth need not hinge upon the approval of others; I could follow my own path, guided not by external expectations, but by the quiet compass of my inner self.

This journey became one of self-discovery, an embrace of my singular blueprint, my unique essence. I realized that my ceaseless efforts to satisfy others’ expectations often did more harm than good; I could never fully meet every need imposed upon me. I had to turn inward, honor my own desires, and place myself first—not in selfishness, but in self-respect and love. I am the one who knows best what I need, and I alone have the power to provide it. Fulfillment, appreciation, and joy do not require the validation of others, they reside within me.

In reclaiming this inner authority, I found profound peace, a sense of wholeness I had never known. I became stronger, more resilient, and more balanced. Though the path can feel solitary at times, I am never truly alone: I always have myself to lean upon, and that is a liberating, formidable truth.

I have learned to trust my inner voice, to listen to intuition, to honor my deepest desires, and to act upon them.

This does not mean I walk alone; on the contrary, seeking help is a sign of wisdom, not weakness. By sharing burdens, I maintain autonomy while building a network of support that allows me to focus on what truly matters.

Stripping away layers imposed by others has been an act of liberation. I freed myself from external expectations, limiting beliefs, and identities that were never mine, seeking instead my own truth and authenticity.

This journey of growth is ongoing, drawing me ever closer to myself. No longer bound by the past, I embrace the present and future with open arms. I am free to be who I truly am, to follow my own path, and to shape my own happiness.

Though challenges arise, I am never alone. In discovering myself, I have found my greatest strength. Guided by my inner compass and fortified by my resilience, I face life on my own terms. Each difficulty, obstacle, and setback has only tempered me, fueling determination and courage.

I have learned to trust my instincts and make choices aligned with my well-being, rather than the expectations of others. This self-awareness and confidence grant me the freedom to pursue my goals without fear or doubt. Every step I take, however small, is proof of growth and resolve.

I embrace change and uncertainty with an open heart and steady mind, knowing that I possess the power to overcome whatever may come.

With this self-assurance, I am prepared for whatever lies ahead. I am determined to live by my own rules, to pursue my dreams with unwavering conviction. My greatest strength comes not from the world around me, but from within, and it is this inner power that will guide me through every challenge and triumph alike.

He understands it, but he can't quite figure it out himself.

There is an irony that never escapes me: sometimes I meet people who, though they grasp the complexity of my mind and can appreciate my unique perspective, are still unable to reach the same depths of thought themselves. They perceive the subtlety of my reflections, the intricacies of my worldview, and yet remain bound by the limits of their own thinking.

It is as though they stand at the edge of a precipice, aware of the vast expanse beyond, yet unable to step forward. They recognize the beauty and depth of my mindset, but feel constrained by the familiar contours of their own understanding. Crossing into a deeper level of thought requires openness, flexibility, and a willingness to venture beyond what is comfortable or customary.

This realization fills me with compassion. I understand that stepping beyond familiar mental frameworks is no small feat, that embracing perspectives that challenge one’s worldview demands courage and intellectual curiosity. To question the familiar, to explore what lies beyond one’s habitual thinking, is a rare and difficult endeavor.