By Desmond Nleya
“My heaven is better than yours!” “You didn’t kneel right—automatic disqualification!” “You eat pork? Blocked and reported!”
When I was 13, my mind subconsciously captured this statement ‘United by God but separated by religion’.
But today, let’s face it.
Religion can sometimes feel like that one aunt at family gatherings who brings the best food but always starts the loudest arguments.
We gather around the same spiritual table, singing songs of grace, peace, and eternal love—but somehow, end up flinging spiritual mashed potatoes at each other because someone said “Amen” differently.
But here’s the twist: we’re more united than we think.
Yes, you heard right. We’re all riding the same spiritual bus, but we’ve chosen different seats. Some are jamming to gospel; others are meditating to silence. Some are fasting on Fridays, others on Saturdays. But the bus is still headed toward the same divine destination—love, light, purpose, and peace.
So, how did we get so divided?
Labels!
We love labels. They make us feel safe. Christian, Muslim, Hindu, African Tradition, Buddhist, Jewish, Spiritual-but-not-Religious, Coffee-on-Sunday Believer… the list goes on.
But God? God doesn’t need a label-maker. God doesn’t peek into your prayer app or check your attendance at the temple to decide if you’re worthy.
God, however you define the Divine, is bigger than dogma. Bigger than doctrines. Bigger than denominations.
Imagine this: five blindfolded people are touching different parts of an elephant. One feels the trunk and says, “Ah! God is like a snake!” Another grabs a leg and yells, “No, God is like a tree trunk!” Another one finds the tail and insists, “You’re all wrong—God is like a rope!” Meanwhile, the elephant is standing there like, “Seriously, guys?”
We’re all feeling different parts of the same spiritual elephant.
Religion Isn’t the Enemy—Ego Is.
Religion can be a beautiful thing. It gives us stories, structure, and community. But when we let ego hijack our beliefs, that’s when things get messy. Wars, discrimination, judgment—none of that is God’s idea. That’s humans turning sacred teachings into exclusive clubs.
“My heaven is better than yours!” “You didn’t kneel right—automatic disqualification!” “You eat pork? Blocked and reported!”
God must be looking at us like, “Children, please. I made you to love—not litigate.”
Let’s Get Back to Basics
Strip away the rituals, the rules, the robes, and what’s left?
Kindness. Compassion. Forgiveness. Love.
These are the universal currencies of any true religion. You don’t need a choir robe to hug someone in pain. You don’t need a priest’s permission to feed the hungry. And you certainly don’t need a sermon to recognize that your neighbor, who prays differently, is still your spiritual sibling.
So, What Now?
Let’s be bold. Let’s be rebels with a holy cause. Let’s build bridges instead of barriers. Let’s go to the mosque, the church, the temple, the meditation hall—and also go to each other’s dinner tables. Let’s have difficult conversations over good food and better intentions.
Let’s start listening. Really listening.
Because when the noise of judgment fades, you’ll hear the same heartbeat in every faith: we all just want to be seen, to be heard, and to be loved.
And guess what? That’s exactly what God wants for us, too.
Whether you pray in Latin, Philippine, Arabic, Sanskrit, Kalanga, Zulu or silence—if your heart is aimed at love, you’re already on holy ground. Let’s stop fighting over the path and start celebrating the journey.
Because in the end, we’re all divine siblings, fumbling toward the same light.
Let’s walk together—different, but united. By God.
