There’s a reason Imagine still stirs souls. It dares to dream of a world without greed, without borders, without gods demanding blood. A world without hunger while others hoard. A world where humanity comes before profit.
But let’s be honest: that dream didn’t begin with Lennon. It echoed from Jesus long before—from the dusty hills of Galilee to the broken streets of every forgotten empire since.
“Sell your possessions and give to the poor.”
“The kingdom of God is within you.”
(Luke 12:33, 17:21)
And yes—some of those dreams were picked up by Marx and others. Dreams of shared labor and dignity. Of bread for all. But when those dreams were handed to the machine of the state? They became nightmares. Gulags. Surveillance. New kings with red flags.
The vision wasn’t the problem. The execution was.
Because you can’t build heaven with a hammer.
You can’t force liberation.
And you damn sure can’t bureaucratize the soul.
Gnosis means awakening, not enforcing.
Revolution means transformation, not substitution.
John Lennon sang of a world without religion, without property, without war. Not because he hated people—but because he hated the systems that pit us against one another. His song, co-shaped by Yoko Ono and her avant-garde, leftist fire, became a secular gospel.
And just like Jesus, his dream was labeled dangerous.
Because love without borders threatens empire.
Because a world without profit threatens power.
So where does that leave us?
Not with blind idealism.
Not with state control.
But with awakening.
The kind of revolution that starts within.
The kind of revolution Jesus lived.
The kind of imagining Lennon sang.
Maybe it’s time we stop trying to enforce utopia—and start embodying it.
