Spiritual imagination as fuel for the masses
The discipline of embodied worldviews to resist capitalism and imperialism
Karl Marx famously described religion as the "opiate of the people," suggesting that it pacifies the oppressed and distracts them from confronting societal injustices. But what if spirituality wasn’t an escape but a force that resists the dehumanization of modern systems? What if spirituality could fuel a transformative imagination—hospicing the old world while blessing the one that is emerging?
The most powerful and meaningful aspect of my 13-year dharma practice has been the Buddhist teaching of basic goodness: the belief in an inherent quality of wakefulness within all beings. I begin almost every meditation with a chant proclaiming this truth. But, if I’m honest, this week, as I recited the words, my voice cracked, my heart hesitated to open.
The renewed bombing of Gaza, the 400 lives extinguished in a single night, and the abductions of Mahmoud Khalil, Rumeysa Ozturk, and now Alireza Doroudi have made it difficult to recite this chant with conviction. I think of Mahmoud’s pregnant wife, Noor, on the verge of giving birth likely without him. I think of how bombs are dropped with the flippancy of a Signal message. And how JD Vance responded with the word “Excellent” once it was confirmed a building collapsed with humans inside of it.
How can we keep this cruelty from distorting our understanding of human nature and its possibilities? Community, art, organizing, education and spending time outdoors are all pieces of the puzzle. But I believe spiritual worldviews—and the disciplined, embodied practice they require—is an untapped source to nourish and bolster the imagination needed.
In Buddhism, we are offered the threefold training to not only intellectually hold our ideals close, but to integrate them into our body for when they most matter. The threefold training consists of studying the Buddha’s teachings, abiding by ethical precepts, and cultivating compassion and insight through meditation practice. When engaged in equal measure, they offer a floor for our souls to stand on.
While Buddhist teachings often offer a soothing balm to my heart, how they shape my response to the world’s injustices depends on my ability to fully integrate them into my being through persistent, embodied practice.
For instance, when I encounter harm, I may recall basic goodness. But if I haven’t consistently cultivated a deep connection with the teaching through meditation and the precepts, it won’t influence my response in a meaningful way. Instead, my heart contracts and hardens. My breath shortens and body tenses. Over time, my view of humanity—and my spiritual imagination—can become distorted and diminished.
But if I’m rooted in my spiritual practice, with an embodied faith in basic goodness? I may still experience rage and grief, but my heart and worldview maintain a tenacity and buoyancy that resists manipulation. Rather than being crushed by cruelty, my heart remains capacious, responsive—compassion surging through me like an unstoppable river.
In such moments, wisdom, instead of hopelessness, can then guide my actions. The five precepts—my vows to speak truthfully, to act with generosity—serve as guardrails, allowing me to act with integrity, both toward myself and others.
Of course, it doesn’t always unfold this way. I might still feel despair and engage in unskillful behavior. But with sincere discipline in Buddhist training, that sense of connection feels more within reach and my worldview remains expansive.
Capitalism and imperialism aim to suffocate our collective imagination. They seek to reduce our dreams to mere consumption, to narrow our scope of concern to our immediate circles. In a world so heavily shaped by materialism and violence, it’s easy for our collective imagination to be smothered. But our spiritual traditions offer clear and rigorous paths tested by billions of practitioners before us—paths that not only help us survive but fight back and reimagine what is possible.
That said, it's important to recognize that religion has served as both a source of resistance and tool of oppression. Buddhism, often idealized in the West, is not immune to the distortions of supremacist thinking, as seen in the persecution of Rohingya Muslims in Myanmar. Devastatingly, oppressive ideologies can twist spiritual values, turning them into vehicles for violence and hatred.
However, we must also remember that spirituality has been a powerful anchor in the fight against systemic injustice. Buddhist monks in Vietnam, Christian liberation theologians in Latin America, and faith leaders in the American Civil Rights movement all exemplify how spiritual traditions do more than offer solace—they inspire the strength to confront cruelty and the clarity to pursue justice with unwavering conviction.
In these times of overwhelming suffering and delusion, we must resist Marx’s characterization of religion as a pacifying opiate and recognize that our spiritual practices can support our fight against exploitation. We can commit more deeply to our spiritual training—not only to resist the life-destroying worldviews of capitalism and imperialism but to maintain, bolster, and expand our collective imagination needed to grow the world that is possible.
So I wholeheartedly agree with everything you’ve said here I do want to offer the full quote from Marx. That line is always taken out of context and I read it as a call towards changing the material conditions of the oppressed and a gauntlet thrown against the churches door:
“Religious suffering is, at one and the same time, the expression of real suffering and a protest against real suffering. Religion is the sigh of the oppressed creature, the heart of a heartless world, and the soul of soulless conditions. It is the opium of the people.
The abolition of religion as the illusory happiness of the people is the demand for their real happiness. To call on them to give up their illusions about their condition is to call on them to give up a condition that requires illusions. The criticism of religion is, therefore, in embryo, the criticism of that vale of tears of which religion is the halo.”
I deeply agree that spirituality is what humanity needs right now.
It’s worth noting that Marx is speaking about “religion”, not spirituality.
And organized religion, with its institutions, hierarchies and in-group mentalities, IS used by political interests as a tool to pacify OR to activate groups of people for materialist causes.
While churches can provide wonderful guidance, community and structure, they can equally be used to separate people from their innate sense of spiritual knowing. Meanwhile pseudo-spiritual gurus on social media exploit that same human need for something meaningful, for their own gain.
I, like you, believe what humans need now is a return to our deep, experiential, innate knowings. And we need the time and space to do that - which is why capitalism is threatened by real spirituality. Not that we shouldn’t learn the wisdom or follow spiritual practices, but that ultimately we need to become incorruptible in our knowledge that love is the deepest truth, no matter what gurus or preachers tell us.