In these volatile times, one must take great care with how one chooses to express that which is closest to one’s heart, for example one’s faith. One need only look at current events, let alone historical ones, to see the impact religious beliefs have on our society, and how, rather than inspiring a path towards enlightenment, religion has become the modus operandi for never-ending war, human suffering and degradation. What’s not to like?

I apologize for my sarcasm, but I guess for me, over time I’ve come to define my beliefs in spiritual rather than religious terms because I really do believe that God is about love, acceptance and forgiveness. When I turn on the news and hear about various wars taking place around the world, it often seems that people are using God as a reason to kill those of different faith, ancestry, skin colour and even sexual orientation.

How we put our faith into motion is an issue I grapple with greatly. I read an article recently about a Shiite festival in Karbala, Iraq. It was the Arbain pilgrimage to commemorate the martyrdom of Imam Hussein, grandson of the Prophet Mohammad, more than 13 centuries ago. The fall of Saddam Hussein and his Sunni-dominated regime ended decades of oppression for the 60% Shiite majority and they took to the streets dressed in white robes and headbands, machetes in hand, and proceeded to cut their heads in homage to the Imam. There’s a photo illustrating the bizarre reality of a herd of men all bleeding from self-inflicted head wounds, brandishing machetes much longer than my arm and much sharper. I guess martyrdom is a world unto its own. In my world, if “my” God told me: “Wanda, in honour of me, I think you would best serve and represent me by going out into the street and causing damage to the part of your body where your brain resides”, I might actually use that part of my body and ask myself how this is serving or representing my God. If my God told me that not only was it perfectly acceptable to harm others but that in fact causing myself harm was a step in a higher direction, I think (you see how the brain comes in handy here) I would get a few proper references for this source before sharpening my instrument.

My knowledge of life and the customs in Iraq is limited to what I read and watch on television so I am very aware that I only have second hand information with which to make any kind of assessment of their culture. We may reside on the same planet, but for sure we live in different worlds. Even on our side of the ocean I have seen recent footage of Christians having themselves nailed to crosses. We might honour martyrs by imitation, but it strikes me as a never-ending cycle of violence when we perpetuate our faith by violent acts.

How do you live and communicate your faith? For me it’s something that I try to factor into my everyday life. I remind myself to act with compassion and non-judgement towards others, whether they are my friends, family or strangers. This might sound simple or insignificant in the world at large, but I’ve learned how much a word or a random act of kindness can change another’s perspective, not only of you or a situation, but of themselves. I’m not one to run out in the streets and rally the troops, but I do think that my pen (well, my keyboard actually) is mightier than any sword I could raise. Basically I want no part of violence as a means of communication and I’m fortunate enough to know that I live in a country where words can make a difference. I aim to treat others in the same way I would like to be treated – with respect. I don’t see this as something done for the “special” people in my life. Everyone is special. Everyone is human. Everyone makes mistakes, and unless by profession, we are not put here to judge. There are of course consequences to peoples’ actions and these we must all deal with and resolve to the best of our abilities.

I’ll share a funny story to illustrate an example of shifting away from what have become acceptable acts of violence. I was in a sports bar watching a boxing match on television and was starting to get a bit uncomfortable with the “sport” of two men doing their best to render the other unconscious. I turned to a young enthusiast sitting beside me and out of the blue asked him if it would be impossible to have a match where two men were put in a ring, and the one who could figure out how to hug the other first would be declared the winner. He looked at me with almost alarmed amazement, as though I had jolted his brain for a split second. I continued on about how entertaining it could be to see how long a grown man could resist a warm and loving embrace. My neighbour continued to look at me in wonder, and then a smile slowly crept across his face. “Now that,” he finally said, “is something I’d like to see.” We both smiled and became lost in our thoughts about what this type of event would be like. And then we looked back at the screen and got lost in reality again.