Let me begin directly with the question that has occupied my thoughts for years: Why do we tend to favor the religion we belong to? Why do we show bias toward our own faith tradition, often at the expense of understanding others? This is not merely an academic question for me. As someone who has spent considerable time studying different religious traditions and speaking with believers from various backgrounds, I have come to realize that answering this question requires us to examine something fundamental how we view the sacred texts that each religious community follows Consider the landscape of world religions. Muslims turn to the Quran, Christians to the Bible, Jews to the Torah, and so forth. Each community holds its scripture as sacred, as divinely inspired, as the ultimate source of truth and guidance. But here is where I want to make a crucial distinction that often gets lost in interfaith dialogue: we do not worship books. We worship one God. The books these various scriptures are understood by believers as revelations sent down at different times, in different languages, to different peoples, but all pointing toward the same divine source
This perspective, I believe, fundamentally changes how we should approach the question of religious bias. If we accept that these texts come from the same God, then our bias toward our own religion becomes less about the superiority of one revelation over another and more about our personal connection to a particular expression of divine truth. The Quran emphasizes this repeatedly when it speaks of previous prophets and previous scriptures, acknowledging them as genuine revelations. The Bible contains the Old Testament, which Christians recognize as sacred while also embracing the New Testament. There is a thread of continuity here that we often fail to appreciate in our rush to defend our own tradition
The Core Principle: Freedom of Choice
Every major scripture reinforces one fundamental concept that I find absolutely essential to understanding authentic faith: freedom of choice. This is not a modern, liberal invention imposed on ancient texts. It is there, embedded in the very fabric of these revelations. The Quran states clearly, "There is no compulsion in religion" The Bible emphasizes again and again that faith is a matter of the heart, that it cannot be forced or coerced. This principle of free will is central to the concept of genuine belief I want to stress this point because it has profound implications for how we practice our faiths and how we engage with those who practice differently. No individual should be pressured or forced to adopt any religion. Period. The diversity of religious expression in our world is not a problem to be solved it is a reflection of human freedom, of the vast landscape of belief rooted in choice rather than compulsion. When we forget this, when we try to impose our understanding on others through social pressure, legal restrictions, or worse, violence, we violate a core teaching that exists across religious traditions.
The moral systems found in different religions, when examined honestly and without prejudice, share a common goal: peace. They call for justice, compassion, honesty, and care for the vulnerable. They warn against violence, greed, and cruelty. The differences in ritual, in theological emphasis, in cultural expression these are real, but they should not obscure the underlying unity of moral purpose. Of course, this unity depends on one critical condition: that sacred texts are not manipulated or distorted to serve political agendas or justify oppression. When religions are weaponized, they become unrecognizable from their original teachings Yet despite these shared values, despite this emphasis on freedom, we face a persistent problem. Each religious community often operates with a fundamental fear: the fear that accepting truth in another religion somehow invalidates one's own. I hear this constantly. "If you accept another religion, you have committed apostasy" "Praising another faith tradition means you have abandoned your own" "Questioning certain beliefs in your religion is tantamount to disbelief" This creates a climate of fear around asking honest questions and breeds a kind of religious fanaticism where people feel their faith is threatened by the mere act of discussing or appreciating another tradition.
Reclaiming Intellectual Freedom Within Faith
To solve this problem, I believe we must reclaim control of our intelligence after it has been defined and often limited by the principles we inherited. I hope those principles are grounded in a concept I consider absolutely essential: no disbelief without conviction. Let me explain what I mean by this
If you explore the rituals of other religions out of curiosity, if you experience their practices to understand them better, if you study their scriptures with an open mind—this does not mean you have abandoned your own faith. Faith is a deep, spiritual conviction, something rooted in the core of your being. It is not so fragile that it collapses from mere exposure to other ideas. Genuine faith does not waver simply from experimentation or conversation. It only truly changes when you yourself develop a strong, internal conviction to change it
This understanding would, I believe, eliminate most acts of religious fanaticism. Fanaticism emerges from insecurity, from the fear that one's faith cannot withstand scrutiny or comparison. But if we understand faith as a robust, personal conviction rather than a brittle identity that must be defended at all costs, we become free to explore, to question, to learn. We become free to appreciate the beauty in traditions not our own without feeling we have betrayed our own path I have personally found tremendous value in studying different religious traditions. Reading Buddhist philosophy has deepened my understanding of mindfulness and compassion. Studying Jewish commentary has enriched my appreciation for textual interpretation. Learning about Hindu concepts of the divine has expanded my imagination of what the infinite might mean. None of this has diminished my own faith. On the contrary, it has strengthened it by showing me the many ways humans have reached toward the divine, the many languages in which people have tried to express the inexpressible.
Science and Faith :A False Dichotomy
Now I want to address an important and related topic the relationship between science and faith. I must admit I feel considerable concern when I observe some scientists presenting scientific explanations for natural phenomena while completely dismissing or ignoring religious and spiritual perspectives. There seems to be an assumption in certain scientific circles that explaining how something works automatically eliminates the question of why it exists or who might have designed the system in which it operates.
Let me argue this clearly: science itself is based on universal laws. These laws are not arbitrary. They are consistent, mathematically elegant, and appear to be fine-tuned in ways that allow for the existence of complex structures galaxies, stars, planets, and ultimately life itself. When scientists discover these laws, they are uncovering the mechanisms by which the universe operates. But discovering a mechanism does not necessarily negate the existence of a designer or a divine origin Consider an analogy. If I were to fully explain to you how a sophisticated computer program works its algorithms, its code, its processing architecture would that explanation prove the program created itself? Of course not. The explanation of how it functions is entirely separate from the question of who designed and wrote it. Similarly, the fact that we can explain genetic inheritance through DNA, or planetary motion through gravity, or the formation of stars through nuclear fusion, does not logically require us to abandon the belief that these systems have a divine origin
I reflect often on the complexity and beauty of the universe. The more I learn about quantum mechanics, about the vast scales of cosmic time and space, about the intricate biochemistry that makes life possible, the more I find it philosophically unconvincing to attribute all of this to pure randomness. The universe appears to operate according to rational, discoverable principles. Rationality seems built into the fabric of existence. As an intelligent being capable of discovering these principles, I find it more rational to believe that intelligence is fundamental to reality itself that there is a divine intelligence behind the order we observe than to believe intelligence emerged accidentally from pure chaos I want to be clear: I am not advocating for ignorance or for rejecting scientific discoveries. On the contrary, I believe deeply in the value of scientific inquiry. Much remains unexplained by science, and I am convinced that future discoveries will deepen humanity's understanding rather than diminish it. Science and faith are not enemies. They are different modes of inquiry, asking different kinds of questions and providing different kinds of answers. Science asks "how" and faith asks "why" and "who." Both are essential to a complete human understanding of existence
When I look at the natural world through a scientific lens—when I consider evolution, cosmic history, the laws of thermodynamics—I do not see contradictions with divine creation. I see the methods through which creation unfolds. Evolution, for instance, can be understood as the process God chose for bringing about biological diversity. The Big Bang can be understood as the moment of divine initiation of the physical universe. These scientific frameworks describe the processes; faith speaks to the purpose and the originator.
The notion that attributing the origin of the universe to randomness alone is philosophically satisfying has never made sense to me. Randomness as an explanatory principle raises more questions than it answers. Where did the physical laws come from that govern this randomness? Why does randomness produce order rather than eternal chaos? Why is the universe comprehensible to mathematical reasoning? These questions point beyond physics to metaphysics, to philosophy, to theology. Belief in God as the source and sustainer of existence is, in my view, a profoundly rational position.
The Problem of Religious Exclusivism
Returning to the question of religious bias and favoritism, I must address what I see as one of the greatest obstacles to genuine interfaith understanding: the belief that salvation or spiritual truth exists exclusively within one's own religious tradition. This is the idea that "our book will save us" or "accepting another religion means we were raised in falsehood."
I understand where this comes from. Religious communities naturally develop strong identities. They teach their children that their path is true, that their practices are meaningful, that their beliefs connect them to the divine. This is not inherently problematic. The problem arises when this teaching transforms into the conviction that all other paths are completely false, that God has somehow limited divine mercy and truth to one particular historical revelation and excluded all others This exclusivism creates enormous harm. It prevents genuine dialogue. It justifies persecution. It turns neighbors into enemies. It makes parents disown children who choose different spiritual paths. It transforms religion from a source of meaning and connection into a source of division and hatred. And ironically, it contradicts the very teachings about divine mercy, justice, and universal love that these religions proclaim
If we take seriously the idea that God is all-knowing, all-powerful, and all-merciful, does it make sense that divine guidance would be so narrowly confined? Does it make sense that billions of people throughout history who never encountered a particular scripture, or who were raised in a different tradition and found genuine meaning and moral transformation there, would be completely cut off from divine grace? This seems to me to reflect a very limited understanding of divine mercy I am not arguing for relativism, for the idea that all beliefs are equally true or that differences do not matter. Clearly, different religions make different truth claims, and those claims sometimes contradict each other. What I am arguing for is intellectual humility and spiritual generosity. The recognition that my tradition may contain profound truth does not require me to believe that all other traditions contain none. The conviction that my path brings me closer to God does not require me to believe that God is absent from all other paths.
What would change if we embraced this perspective more fully? We would become free to learn from one another without fear. Muslim scholars could study Christian theology not to refute it but to understand how Christians experience the divine. Christians could read the Quran not to prove it wrong but to appreciate the spiritual wisdom it contains. Hindus and Buddhists could engage with monotheistic traditions not as foreign threats but as different expressions of humanity's search for ultimate meaning. We could have honest conversations about our disagreements without those disagreements needing to end in conflict or conversion attempts.
Moving Forward: Faith Rooted in Conviction, Not Fear
As I conclude these reflections, I want to return to where I began. We gravitate toward religion and specifically toward the religion we inherit or choose because humans are fundamentally spiritual beings. We seek meaning beyond material existence. We long for connection with something greater than ourselves. We need moral frameworks to guide our choices and communities to support us through life's challenges. Religion meets these deep human needs
The question is not whether we should be religious that is a personal choice each individual must make freely. The question is how we can be religious in ways that honor the freedom, dignity, and spiritual journeys of others. How can we hold our convictions strongly while remaining open to truth wherever it appears? How can we practice our faith with integrity while respecting the integrity of those who practice differently My answer is that we must ground our faith in genuine conviction rather than fear Fear of questioning, fear of doubt, fear of other traditions these fears do not strengthen faith. They weaken it. They turn religion into a prison rather than a path to liberation. True faith, faith rooted in personal conviction and genuine encounter with the divine, can withstand questions. It can appreciate other traditions without feeling threatened. It can hold space for doubt and uncertainty as part of the human condition rather than as signs of failure
I believe that God is vast enough to encompass the sincere prayers of all people, regardless of the language they pray in or the rituals they perform. I believe that divine truth is powerful enough to shine through different scriptural expressions, each reflecting the divine light through the particular lens of a culture, a time, a people. I believe that what God ultimately cares about is not whether we perform the correct rituals or recite the right creeds, but whether we live with compassion, justice, humility, and love This does not mean differences do not matter or that we should abandon our particular traditions. Our traditions give us roots, identity, practices that connect us to centuries of wisdom. But our roots should anchor us, not imprison us. They should give us the stability to reach out across differences rather than the excuse to wall ourselves off from others
The world desperately needs religious people who can hold their convictions with confidence while engaging with others with humility. We need believers who see their faith as a call to love and service rather than a weapon to wield against outsiders. We need spiritual seekers who can ask hard questions and live with complexity rather than demanding simplistic certainty. We need communities of faith that nurture genuine belief through freedom rather than enforcing conformity through fear This is the faith I aspire to. A faith that sees God in the order of the cosmos revealed by science and in the moral teachings shared across religious traditions. A faith that trusts divine mercy is wider than any human theology can capture. A faith that finds strength not in excluding others but in the depth of its own conviction and practice. A faith that knows the difference between holding truth and possessing it, between following a path and claiming it is the only path God has ever laid
If we can embrace this kind of faith rooted in conviction, open to mystery, committed to freedom then our gravitation toward religion will be a force for peace, understanding, and human flourishing rather than division. And that, I believe, is what the divine source of all these traditions ultimately desires for humanity