In the absence of gods, narrative has taken their place.
We no longer believe in divine commandments—but we believe in “our story.”
We no longer worship deities—but we worship identities, national myths, partisan scripts, and curated personal brands.
In this way, narrative has become a functional idol:
It organizes meaning.
It resists critique.
It bestows belonging and purpose.
And it often claims immunity from reality itself.
But narrative is not sacred by nature. It is only sacred when it submits to coherence—when it serves life, love, and truth. Otherwise, it becomes a mask for domination, a weapon of control, or a comforting delusion.
Religion is not narrative.
Religion is the process of deciding which narratives are worthy of sacred status—and keeping them accountable to truth.
Opthē insists that story must always kneel before coherence.
That no myth is beyond revision.
That narrative is not the source of the sacred but one of its servants.