Be a drunkard, drunk with life, with the wine of existence. Don’t remain sober. The sober person remains dead. Drink the wine of life. It has so much poetry and so much love and so much juice. You can bring the Spring in any moment. Just give a call to the Spring and let the sun and the wind and the rain enter into you.
It is because of this message that the spiritualists are against me because they think I am denying God. I am not denying God. For the first time I am bringing God into a real perspective, I am making him alive, I am bringing him closer to you, closer than your very heart, because he is your very being – nothing separate, nothing far away, nothing there in the sky, but herenow. I am trying to destroy the very idea of there and then. My whole vision is of here and now because there is no other space than the here, and no other time than the now.
The spiritualists are against me because they think I am making people materialists. And the materialists are against me because they think I am taking people into meditative drunkenness.
The shankaracharya would not agree with me because he says, “God is true and everything else is false.” I cannot agree with him. And Karl Marx will not agree with me because he says, “Religion is the opium of the people,” that religion is something utterly false, that there is no God, no spirit, no life except matter – that what you think is your consciousness is an epiphenomenon, just a by-product. The moment you die everything dies.
I tell you, you are born and you will certainly die but something in you was there before your birth, and something in you is there which will remain after your death. And that something is life. Life is eternal.
Twenty sannyasins walk into the World Trade Center in New York singing, “Drinking from your wine, Osho, drinking from your wine!”
The front desk receptionist calls for the manager to come quickly. He tells the sannyasins that they must wear formal dress to enter, so one of the sannyasins goes over to the desk and gets the “Rules of the House.” He finds out that priests and people of religious orders do not have the same dress code. He presents this rule to the manager who is thereby forced to allow them entry.
The twenty sannyasins walk into the bar on the one hundred and thirtieth floor still singing, “Drinking from your wine, Osho…” A couple of drinks later, the same sannyasin notices a fat old Texan sitting on the stool next to him. He raps him on the back and they get talking. Fatso happens to import fine scotch whiskey into the States. He listens in amazement as this sannyasin tells him that he is a connoisseur and that he knows of a wine that just keeps getting you higher and higher – it is made in India and brewed by a master called Osho.
“Faarrr out!” drawls the Texan, and he calls the bartender and pays for everybody’s drinks.
A short time later, twenty sannyasins walk out of the bar, singing, “Drinking from your wine, Osho, drinking from your wine…”