Last week, I found myself laughing at a recent memory. It was during the pre-marriage conversation with the priest, last month. The priest called me aside, with his form, started asking the usual questions. Everything was going well until he got to that seemingly simple question: "What's your religion?"
"I don't have a religion," I answered calmly.
The silence that followed was almost comical. I saw the priest look at the paper, then at me, then at the paper again. The pen frozen in the air. That form field, so simple to fill out for most, had become an impasse.
"But... do you believe in God?" he tried.
"Yes, I believe, but not in the God you believe in."
More silence. The pen remained suspended.
"So you're an atheist?" new attempt.
"No, I just said I believe in God," I replied, trying not to laugh.
That's when I realized we were stuck in a cycle of mutual incomprehension. The priest needed to fill out that field, and I didn't fit into any of the available boxes.
"Just put down 'Christian,'" I finally suggested, with a half smile. "I grew up evangelical, I'm getting married in a Catholic church, I try to follow Jesus' teachings. Does that work?"
The relief on his face was visible. The pen finally touched the paper.
`` The awakening without religion
I grew up in the evangelical church. One of those very traditional ones, with Sunday school, camps, and the absolute certainty that our way was the only right one. That's where I learned about community, about values, about the importance of something greater than ourselves. But that's also where I saw the first barriers being erected - us and them, saved and lost, right and wrong.
Over time, my natural curiosity led me to question: if there is a God, why would He reveal Himself only to a specific group, in a specific region, at a specific time?
`` All roads lead to Rome
At 29, after moving through so many spiritual paths, I learned that each tradition carries pieces of a greater truth. I dove into Buddhism and discovered meditation. I studied Spiritism and was fascinated by the idea of continuous evolution of consciousness. I encountered Umbanda and saw a connection with the sacred that transcended prejudices. I explored Judaism and Kabbalah, and was enchanted by the mystical depth behind the texts. I read the Kybalion and found hermetic principles that explained so many things I felt but couldn't name.
You know that saying: "All roads lead to Rome"? For me, all paths lead to God. Each person has their spiritual journey that's almost always influenced by the time and place where you live and by your parents' religion.
I don't believe there's a right path. What's important is feeling the connection with something much greater than us, it's looking at the world with reverence, it's realizing we're here to live and experience life in the best way.
`` The revolutionary masters
Here's an irony that always makes me reflect: Jesus wasn't a Christian. Buddha wasn't a Buddhist. They were spiritual revolutionaries who questioned the religious dogmas of their time.
Jesus hung out with tax collectors and prostitutes, breaking all social and religious rules. Buddha abandoned the extremes of asceticism and hedonism to find the middle way. Neither of them would say "my religion is the only true one" - that was invented by those who came after, by those who needed power, control, group identity.
`` The present as portal
My spirituality today is about presence. I meditate in the morning, not because some sacred book told me to, but because I discovered that starting the day in silence connects me with something essential. I read sacred texts from various traditions like someone talking with old sages, each offering their unique perspective on the mystery of existence.
The God I believe in isn't sitting on a throne judging our actions. It's the very web of existence, the field of consciousness from which we all emerge and to which we all return.
We are waves in the ocean, temporarily forgetting that we are also the ocean itself.
`` Beyond the boxes
When I go with my wife to mass, I don't go out of obligation, but out of love and respect. And I find beauty there - in communion, in shared silence, in the ancient stories that still echo. I go to listen to the word and hear its wisdom.
Spirituality doesn't belong to any specific religion. The feeling of deep connection, the experience of universal love, the perception of the interconnectedness of all things - this is human.
Religions have immense value for billions of people. They offer community, moral structure, comfort in difficult times, answers to existential questions. They're traditions tested over thousands of years. And that's okay.
`` The middle way
I'm not here to convert anyone - what an irony that would be. Each person needs to find their own path to the mystery. For some, this means embracing a specific religious tradition. For others, like me, it means walking between traditions, gathering wisdom wherever it blooms.
Today, at 29, newly married, I continue my journey. I don't have a religion, but I have my spiritual practice. I don't follow a single master, but I learn from all - from Jesus to Buddha, from Rumi to Carl Sagan, from ancient mystics to modern scientists.
When someone asks me about my religion, sometimes I still say "Christian" for simplicity - recognizing my roots, honoring the tradition that formed me. But if there's time for a real conversation, I explain:
I'm someone who is seeking.
And you? Where do you find yourself on this journey between the secular and the sacred, between reason and mystery?
Because in the end, maybe we need to learn to live comfortably in the space between the boxes.
If you want to talk about religion and share knowledge, get in touch. I enjoy learning about new religions and spiritualities :)