According to Osho, when samyak darshan arises, one’s inner vision of compassion, love, and mercy seeks expression through whatever social instruments are available. Character becomes adaptive, not doctrinaire: its outer rules vary with time, place, and culture (as with Muhammad and Mahavira), yet the inner core remains compassion. Thus right vision fashions conduct suited to society’s needs rather than imitating fixed formulas.
Seeing truth makes you kind, and you show that kindness in ways that fit your society instead of copying someone else’s rules.
From the Discourses
Passages where Osho speaks to this question — each links to the complete discourse.
Regarding the character of one who has attained samyak darshan (right vision): will that character become society’s, or will society’s character become his?
One who has attained samyak darshan has received a vision—of karuna, compassion, love, mercy. That vision has been received. Now, what is society like? For that vision to manifest, he will look for the instruments through which it can express itself—for example, for Muhammad, compassion meant making provision for four marriages. And the one who makes provision for four marriages—if he cannot himself demonstrate it by taking nine wives, then how will he make provision for four? You understand what I mean, don’t you? For Muhammad, this is what is compassionate. For Mahavira, this is not a matter of compassion. For Mahavira, this is not the question at all. In the era and milieu where he is, that situation does not exist; it has no relevance. For Mahavira it is difficult even to imagine such a thing. For Muhammad, celibacy is very difficult even to imagine—and utterly meaningless. Because if…
Question: Osho, about what you have been saying on the Jain perspective, it seems to me that two-thirds of it everyone could agree with, but there is one-third with which agreement is difficult. The first thing you say is about samyak-darshan (right vision). Anyone who has read even a little scripture knows that without right vision, character has no meaning; whatever happens without right vision cannot be called character at all. This view is very clear. And it is also clear that character has no meaning other than self-abidance: to be established in the soul is precisely what character means. On these two points I find myself in agreement with you. But between having right vision and being fully established in the self, in that interval your view seems to me different from the traditional view.
The so-called man of character is like a blind man who, by walking the same path again and again, becomes so habituated that he no longer needs eyes; without tapping the ground with a stick, without seeking anyone’s support, without groping or asking, merely by habit from going and coming on the same path, he begins to walk as one with eyes should walk. Seeing him walk, you may be amazed. You may even suspect that perhaps this man has gotten his eyes back. For he walks exactly as the sighted walk. But there is a deep difference. This walking is merely by habit. Through constant going and coming on the same path, it has become a habit. He knows every stone on the path. Every turn is familiar. He can walk the path, but merely walking does not open the eyes.
A pundit suffers from mental indigestion—he stuffs knowledge, but it lies like stones in the stream—it does not flow with life’s current. Samahita means: even if you forget it, it remains with you; no effort is needed—spontaneous, self-born. “He who is absorbed in these three—and does nothing else.” Nothing else is needed—these three suffice. In them all is done. “And he abandons nothing”—this will trouble Jain monks: neither does he “do,” nor does he “abandon”—for abandoning too is doing; in abandoning, the doer and the ego arise. Neither clinging nor rejecting—he lives in silent witnessing. “He alone, by Nischaya-naya, is the path of liberation.” He is the way to freedom. One stuck in holding and dropping will be stuck—wandering from here to there— Now in the temple, now in the Kaaba— Where all does the longing drag me to that Door?
Osho, what is the definition of God?
Words are very small. If you say God is light, then what of darkness? The scriptures have said that God is light. Suppose we accept this as a definition—then what about darkness? Where will darkness go? Darkness is too; in fact it is far more than light. Light sometimes is and sometimes is not; darkness is always, eternal. Where will you place darkness? If you say God is light, darkness is left out. If you say God is darkness, then light is left out. If you say God is both darkness and light, a contradiction arises: they cannot be together. Try to have both darkness and light in the same room. If you bring in light, darkness disappears; if you preserve darkness, you cannot have light. Then how can both be together? That becomes an impossibility. So you cannot say “both” either. Then the fourth device is to say: it…