When I posted about attending services at a gay church in Toronto a month ago, I should have known that I was opening the flood gates. Since then, I’ve received hundreds and hundreds of lovely and thoughtful emails from well-intentioned blog buddies. Thank you for all of those.
But for me, religions are really a lot like cars on a highway. And I mean that in the most respectful way possible.
Whether you’re driving a Toyota or a Ford or a Jeep, everyone’s heading in the same direction. Some cars might get a flat tire, take a wrong turn or even get in an accident – but so is life… and we press on. I guess it’s really just about finding a car that seems to fit, or else opting for a bike or even hitch hiking (I think that’s the category into which I fall). Hell, you can even ditch the vehicle altogether and take the sidewalk.
There’s a great saying that all paths lead to truth – some just take longer than others. And at the end of the day, like cars traveling down a highway, most religions tend to end up in a very similar place. Not a physical place on a mp, but rather a spiritual place of truth. It’s easy to get lost in the details of the differences, but the underlying message is quite similar.
I enjoy truth wherever I find it. It might be in a mosque, a temple a church or – more likely – while laughing with my grandparents, while on a hike through the forest or while staring into the eyes of a lover. Anytime that I feel love, I know that it is something special – whether we call it God or anything else.
