Religions have long been regarded as the moral compass of society, guiding human behavior, shaping cultures and offering comfort in times of despair. They have inspired great acts of kindness, built communities and provided hope to millions. But in today’s world, as faith institutions accumulate immense wealth, political influence, and social power, human suffering continues to grow. Wars rage on, poverty deepens, inequalities widen and systemic injustices remain unchallenged.
If religion is meant to be a beacon of light, why do so many people still find themselves in darkness? If religious leaders are entrusted with moral guidance, why do their voices often fall silent on issues of corruption, oppression, and exploitation? If faith is supposed to transform lives, why does it sometimes seem more concerned with maintaining institutions than addressing the real struggles of its followers?
This is not just a philosophical debate—it is a moral crisis that requires deep reflection. It is a question that religious leaders and followers alike must confront: Has religion lost its essence? Has it become more of a business than a force for justice?
Once upon a time, spiritual leadership was about more than maintaining places of worship and overseeing rituals. It was about guiding people towards justice, advocating for the oppressed, and standing up against systems that perpetuate suffering. But today, many religious leaders operate more like corporate managers—running large institutions, handling vast donations, and building their influence rather than focusing on the moral and social transformation of society.
Are religious leaders truly leading their followers, or are they merely managing religious organisations? Are they walking among the poor, listening to their struggles and fighting for their rights or are they confined within luxurious institutions, disconnected from the realities of the people they claim to serve?
It is undeniable that religious institutions engage in acts of charity—feeding the hungry, providing shelter and running hospitals. But is charity enough? Shouldn’t religion also challenge the root causes of poverty and suffering? Instead of merely offering food, shouldn’t faith leaders demand fair wages for workers? Instead of providing temporary relief to the homeless, shouldn’t they question the structures that allow homelessness to persist?
Too often, religious leaders preach about patience in suffering rather than justice in action. They tell people to pray harder instead of pushing for policy changes that could improve lives. They justify social hierarchies rather than dismantling them. But is this what faith is supposed to do—pacify people into acceptance rather than empower them to fight for their dignity?
Faith is deeply personal, but it also comes with responsibility. Many religious followers dedicate their lives to devotion, prayer and rituals. They donate generously to religious institutions, attend ceremonies and participate in festivals. But do they ever stop to ask: What impact does my faith have on the world around me?
Are religious followers supporting institutions that truly serve society, or are they merely upholding structures that preserve power and wealth for a few?
It is easy to follow traditions, to believe that faith alone is enough. But faith without action is empty. What is the point of building grand places of worship if there are struggling families living in slums right next to them? What is the point of fasting and praying for the well-being of others if we turn a blind eye to injustice happening right in front of us?
Many are taught that suffering is a test from God, that endurance brings spiritual rewards. But should faith not also demand change? Should it not inspire people to question inequality, to stand against oppression, to advocate for the rights of the marginalized?
Religious institutions often highlight their acts of charity as proof of their positive impact on society. They run food drives, build hospitals, and provide relief during disasters. But is this enough? Or is it just a way to appear compassionate while avoiding deeper, systemic issues?
Charity is a temporary solution—it feeds the hungry for a day, shelters the homeless for a night, and treats the sick for a moment. But it does not prevent hunger, homelessness, or illness in the first place. If religious institutions truly wanted to make a difference, wouldn’t they focus on systemic change rather than just temporary relief?
Faith leaders and institutions have vast resources at their disposal. If they truly prioritised social justice, they could use these resources to challenge corruption, advocate for labour rights, push for gender equality and demand better social policies.
Why do so few religious institutions take bold stances against oppression? Why do they not use their influence to hold governments accountable, to demand fair wages, to speak out against discrimination? Is it because they fear losing their privileged status?
What needs to change?
• Religious leaders must step outside their institutions and engage with real-world struggles. Religious leaders must be on the frontlines, advocating for the oppressed, standing up against discrimination, and using their influence to challenge injustices.
• Charity is not enough; systemic change is needed. Religious wealth and influence should not be spent on extravagant places of worship while millions suffer.
• Faith should empower, not suppress. Religious teachings should inspire critical thinking, courage, and action. They should not be used to justify social hierarchies, silence dissent, or discourage activism.
• Followers must demand accountability. If religious institutions are failing to address real-world problems, then followers have a duty to question their role.
A final question for all of us
Religion has the potential to be a force for good, but only if it truly serves humanity rather than itself. If faith is meant to bring light into darkness, why do so many remain in
shadows?
The answer lies not just with religious leaders, but with followers as well. It lies in our willingness to reflect, to question, and to act. Religion should not be a business—it should be a movement for justice, dignity, and equality.
So, the final question remains: Are we ready to make it so?
(Peter F. Borges is an Assistant Professor of Social Work at the D.D. Kosambi School of Social Sciences and Behavioural Studies, Goa
University. )