Are Cults and Faith the same?

THE SERMON OF THE POPE OF LOVE: “Faith or Cult? Thou Shalt Know the Difference”

Beloved children of the real and the ridiculous,

Gather ‘round the Holy Lava Lamp, sip from the Chalice of Clarity, and let us chant the sacred mantra of our age: “Don't drink the Kool-Aid just because it’s offered in a golden goblet.” Amen and Ashe!

Today we open our hearts, not just our hymnals, to something deeper than dogma and louder than the loudest televangelist with a jet: the divine difference between faith and cult. Because in this age of algorithmic prophecy and messianic merch drops, the line between salvation and seduction can look like it was drawn by a drunken toddler with a Sharpie.

💫 FAITH, my flock, is a garden.

It is a trembling, fragrant thing where you walk barefoot with Mystery. You can plant doubt and still harvest peace. You are invited to ask the Big Questions: Why are we here? What is love? Do dogs go to heaven or do they run it?

Faith says, “Come as you are, stay if it makes you whole.”
It respects your free will—that holy compass spinning in your chest.
Faith opens the door to the world, not shuts the curtains on it.
It wears its rituals on its sleeve and its scriptures on its soul.

It doesn’t shush you.
It sings with you.
It doesn’t demand obedience—it invites relationship.

Faith is your grandma’s Sunday soup and the stranger’s hand on your shoulder in a dark time. It is a song sung in many keys by many voices. And yes, sometimes it’s weird. But weird with wonder, not weird with weaponry.

💀 Now cults, my darlings, are a different beast.

They are not gardens.
They are greenhouses with no exits.

A cult doesn’t say “Come as you are.” It says “Come as we command.”
They don’t want your questions. They want your silence, your money, and ideally, your soul on autopilot.

Cults have leaders with egos so big, even God would ask them to tone it down. They slurp your free will like it’s a smoothie. They isolate you—not to enlighten—but to control. They call it family, but it feels more like emotional prison cosplay.

A cult hides its teachings, grooms your doubts, and gaslights your grandma.
They don’t ask for your heart—they confiscate your mind.

And when the Kool-Aid gets passed around, they tell you it's holy, but it smells like cyanide and capitalism.

🔥 So I say this with love loud enough to knock down the temple doors:

If your so-called spiritual guide flinches when you ask questions? That ain’t faith—that’s fascism in a choir robe.

If your “community” cuts you off from your family, your friends, your Spotify playlist? That ain’t communion—it’s a con job with incense.

Faith liberates.
Cults dominate.

Faith empowers you to walk through the world with curiosity and compassion.
Cults shove you into a tunnel and tell you the light at the end is only visible through them—for a fee.

So I say to you, be not a lamb for the slaughter, but a lion for the Light!
Wield your brain like a blade of sacred discernment.
Wield your heart like a lantern in the fog of fanaticism.

And never confuse divine mystery with human manipulation.

May your faith be wild, your questions loud, and your spirit un-cult-able.

Now go forth, my radiant rebels, and unfollow false prophets like your soul depends on it—because it just might.

🕊️ Amen. Awomen. Awoke.