“Faith is the bird that feels the light when the dawn is still dark.” Rabindranath Tagore.
“Keep the faith, my friend,” is a commonly used, breezy goodbye that we hear often without giving much thought to it. And yet, faith spans deeply held religious beliefs, doctrinal commitments, and emotional encouragement. It generally sends the message of maintaining hope, trust, or loyalty in the face of adversity, doubt, or depression.
For many Christians, it is a direct reference to 2 Timothy 4:7 (I have kept the faith), meaning to uphold the core tenets, teachings, and principles that Jesus proclaimed. It is experienced as a choice to believe in God’s plan rather than the visible evidence of a challenging situation. The choice means relying on God’s strength rather than self-reliance to endure trials.
For people with other religious or secular beliefs, “keep the faith” means “hang in there” or “stay positive” during stressful times. It serves as a boost to continue pursuing a goal, even when progress is slow. The intention is to reassure the person that perseverance will eventually pay off – things will get better despite current circumstances.
Some theologians and philosophers see the expression as a commitment to principles, as a statement of support, or as an affirmation of the sacredness of life. It is the daily, quiet choice to keep living, loving, learning, and hoping in a world that can feel chaotic or meaningless. Faith can be based on a set of beliefs or a set practices that give people the confidence that they can make a difference.
Given that context, when I first saw a new “Words of Faith” column in our local paper, I was curious if not a bit alarmed. I admit to wondering if the column would be an evangelical advertisement instead of an invitation to think more deeply about multiple faith traditions.
I tend to see faith as a guide toward meaning, comfort, and community. I don’t speak from the pulpit; I don’t identify with a single religious label; in fact, I speak with no authority at all! Still, I wrestle with the idea of faith, and I care deeply about spiritual life. Thus, this new column caught my attention.
Since I’ve studied the faith at the heart of many traditions over the years, I wondered how the local newspaper would represent it. Would it invite many voices from different faith communities, or would it reflect a predominantly Christian point of view? I was hoping for the former, because – in spite of the complexity and uncertainty underlying faith—I keep returning to a simple, hopeful idea: different faiths often teach different facets of a larger human wisdom.
To me, there is great value in seeing faiths not as rivals but as relatives—distinct expressions of similar longings. For example, the Vedic literature of the Hindu tradition invites us into a conversation about consciousness. Vedic teaching suggests that our suffering often comes from identifying too closely with external masks instead of internal essence. It asks us to notice who we are beyond the surface roles and stories we carry. It suggests that we carry out our daily activities with inner awareness. That inner listening can deepen presence, decision-making, and the way we relate to one another.
Buddhism offers its own jewel: the practice of loving-kindness. Through simple practices of intentional goodwill—first toward oneself, then toward friends, strangers, and even those we find difficult—loving-kindness cultivates compassion in measurable, transformative ways. In small towns and busy lives alike, that practice can soften anger and create space for healing.
Judaism embraces honest dialogue and challenges righteousness. It seeks to be inclusive and disputes the notion of “one truth.” My older daughter and grandkids are Jewish, so Judaism has a special place in my heart.
Islam’s longstanding respect for earlier prophets and scriptures reminds me of humility before history and the living story of faith. Its reverence for figures shared with Jewish and Christian scriptures emphasizes continuity and the recognition that truth may arrive in many voices across time. The honoring of other prophets models a posture we can all learn from: one of listening and respect rather than instant dismissal.
Christian traditions, of course, have also brought consolation, moral clarity, and communal care to countless lives. The message of love, forgiveness, and service is a steady source of strength for many neighbors. I honor that, even as I also honor other paths.
I believe that distinct teachings matter; they answer different questions, fit different temperaments, and guide people through different challenges. I simply invite a posture of curiosity: what might I learn if I let another tradition’s insight sit beside my own? What does my neighbor value about their way of life, and how has it helped them become who they are? I am so hoping that my local newspaper will invite voices from many faith traditions to share their perspectives in subsequent columns.
Every town is made of many stories, and faith is one of the deepest threads in the fabric of those stories. I offer these reflections not to challenge or replace any faith but to suggest that the richness of spiritual life might be greater than any single expression. If we meet one another with curiosity and respect, we may find our own beliefs deepened and our shared life strengthened.
And, in this century, the whole notion of faith has been challenged by the advance of modern physics and the evolution of AI. The intersection of modern physics and spiritual belief represents a fascinating evolution in how people seek to understand the “unseen.” For many, the complex mechanics of quantum entanglement and electromagnetic fields have moved beyond the laboratory, providing a structural foundation for faith that mirrors, and in some cases replaces, traditional religious doctrine. For example, the core of many spiritual traditions, such as Hinduism or Buddhism, is the dissolution of the “self” and the realization of a universal unity. Quantum entanglement provides theoretical foundations for this belief.
In addition, the idea of non-locality (which Dan Brown explores extensively in his new book, Secret of Secrets) suggests that entangled particles remain connected across any distance, thus providing “proof of concept” that the idea of separation is an illusion. In this context, prayer is not just a hopeful thought, it is framed as divine entanglement—an instantaneous link between the individual and the cosmos.
Independent of your faith tradition, practices, or beliefs, it seems to me that the metaphorical power matters most. I’m for any faith that helps us understand that the universe is far more interconnected and mysterious than it may appear on the surface. Ultimately, the goal is the same: to feel like we are not isolated accidents but integral parts of a vast, energetic whole.
So why is this so important to me? Why would I even care if the local newspaper didn’t welcome multiple views of faith in its column? Let me count the ways.
One, if beliefs related to one faith tradition are the only words that matter, many people will feel excluded, not welcome, not seen, and not heard. That’s not the message any religion ostensibly espouses. And yet some states are still pressing to have the Ten Commandments displayed in every public school classroom.
Two, in a world of over 8 billion people, only 25% identify as Christians. If we want to have meaningful conversations, it seems to me that we should understand the points of view of the people who constitute the remaining 75%. In a recent column, David French wrote a brilliant essay on the importance of empathy (understanding what other people think, believe, and feel) in the Christian faith. It’s well worth reading.
Three, white Christian nationalism has become a deeply influential, core component of the modern Republican Party platform and voter base. Studies show over 50% of Republicans are either adherents or sympathizers, making it a powerful, unifying ideology among white evangelical Protestants and conservative voters. It integrates social conservatism with, in some cases, views on national identity and culture. Trump won white, evangelical voters by a 65% margin in 2024.
Sadly, religion has become a deeply divisive force in the world. When politicians define Western Civilization with words that imply not only a white, male, Christian supremacy, but also with terms that demonize “other” beliefs, traditions, and ethnicities, they are not promoting a worldview consistent with their stated beliefs.
All of this to say, I hope our local newspaper invites many different voices to share diverse personal beliefs in their column. And I am hoping that more of us deeply consider the mystery of ourselves in an unknowable universe from multiple voices and traditions. May it be so.
