Nikad Ne Zaboravi!
Zašto nosiš tuđu zastavu na grudima?Misliš da te čini jačim?Ne vidiš li uvredu —da zaboraviš sopstvenu krv, sopstvenu priču,da prodaš dušu za plastiku?Već imaš sve.Sveće slave što gore,pesme Vidovdana što odzvanjaju,badnjak što puca u noći Božića,ajvar i kajmak rukom spravljen,sarma što se krčka u zimskim kuhinjama.Već imaš sve.Gusle što pevaju o junacima,kolo što spaja strance…
The Snail and the Spiral Path of Awakening
When I was a child, I would crouch in the garden for hours watching snails. To most people they were slow, slimy, forgettable creatures. But to me, they were monks of the soil. Their shells fascinated me—their spirals were perfect diagrams of infinity, coiled galaxies small enough to fit in the palm of my hand.…
The Cross, the Jar, and the Infinite Water
The Cry of Forgiveness When I see Christ upon the Cross, I weep. Not because resurrection is absent from my heart, not because I doubt the cycles of infinite lives, but because ignorance pierces deeper than nails. The words spoken then—“Forgive them, Father, for they know not what they do” (Luke 23:34)—still echo through the…
Biases Toward Beauty: How to Love the Essence of All Beings
Aesthetic morality is one of the quietest and most powerful forces shaping how humans decide what is worthy of life, care, and respect. At first glance, it looks harmless—our preference for butterflies over moths, dogs over pigs. Yet beneath it lies a deep distortion: we allow beauty, familiarity, or cultural taste to dictate moral worth,…
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If Humanity Were Defined by Rejoicing vs War
War has been the world’s religion. Its temples are carved from stone and sorrow, its hymns rise as national anthems, its holy days marked by battles remembered. We build monuments to grief, consecrate ground with blood, and teach our children that belonging is born in resistance. This is the liturgy we have inherited: to measure…
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The Broken Vessel and the Water Within
Beloved seekers, beloved friends— I once believed that leaving a church meant leaving Christ. I thought when the jar broke, the water was gone. But here is the secret: Christ never left. The jar may shatter, but the water still flows. When I was nineteen, I came to Serbia as a missionary. You could spot…