In God We Trust; Thou Shalt Not Question… So Naturally, I Did 

A Friendly Disclaimer Before Someone Organises My Funeral 

Before anyone reaches for the holy water, sharpens a pitchfork, starts composing an angry prayer or reports me directly to Heaven’s Customer Service Department, let’s establish the ground rules. 

This isn’t an attack on God. It isn’t an attack on Christianity, Islam,  Judaism, African Traditional Religion, Hinduism, Buddhism, or whichever  spiritual Wi-Fi you’ve connected your soul to. It’s an exploration of us. 

Human beings. 

Our need to believe. 

Our need to belong. 

Our tendency to mistake confidence for certainty. 

If your religion has made you kinder, more patient, more generous and  less likely to shout at waiters, then congratulations. It’s doing exactly  what it was probably designed to do. 

If, however, your faith tells you to stop thinking, stop questioning, fight the  devil and simply hand over your wallet every Sunday because “God told  Pastor you were next,” then we might need a little chat. 

Now you can relax your brow and start breathing normally. As nobody’s getting cancelled today. 

We’re just taking religion out for a coffee and asking it a few awkward questions. 

After all, if God has a sense of humour, humanity would probably be his longest-running comedy series. 

Before Religion… There Was Spirituality 

Long before churches had steeples… 

Before mosques had minarets… 

Before temples touched the sky… 

Before anyone had ever heard the words Bible, Qur’an or Torah… There was something else. 

Spirituality. 

The curious feeling that life is somehow bigger than ourselves. Anthropologists believe humans have always possessed an unusual  awareness, call it instinct, that separates us from almost every other  animal. 

A lion knows hunger. 

A chimpanzee knows fear. 

Your dog knows exactly when you’re opening the fridge. But humans? 

Humans wonder. 

We wonder where we came from. 

Why we exist. 

What happens after death. 

Whether life has purpose. 

Whether someone… or something… is listening. 

That curiosity appears to be deeply woven into our species. It’s why almost every civilisation that has ever existed independently  invented some form of spirituality.

Different languages. 

Different continents. 

Different cultures. 

But remarkably similar questions. 

Human Beings Are Addicted to Stories 

Human beings love stories. Not just the cosy “once upon a time” bedtime variety, but epic, popcorn-worthy, binge-worthy sagas filled with gods, miracles, prophecies, world-ending floods, talking snakes, divine revenge and a hero who dies… then comes back for the sequel. We’ll happily binge on that storyline for thousands of years. Even Hollywood would read the script, scratch its head and ask, “Who on earth wrote this?”  Once you’ve accepted that we love stories… 

Religion starts making a lot more sense. 

Every civilisation has told stories explaining where the world came from. 

We’ve always needed dramatic explanations for life’s unexplainable weirdness: life, death, dreams, thunder, drought, bad luck, why good people sometimes die young while complete idiots somehow live to ninety-eight. And of course, that neighbour who’s single, unemployed, but somehow  has flawless wigs, travels Business Class, and “just knows people.” 

Back in the pre-Google, pre-antibiotic era, people looked at lightning and  thought, “Yep, Zeus is angry again.”  

Let me paint you a picture; Imagine living five thousand years ago. No hospitals. 

No satellites. 

No electricity. 

No Google. 

Lightning strikes a tree and splits it into two! 

What’s your conclusion?

“Electrical discharge between oppositely charged particles…” Or… 

“The gods are having one of those days.” 

Honestly… 

The second explanation sounds far more exciting and more plausible to your caveman brain. 

Why? Because belief feels good. Certainty is comforting. It’s a lot easier  to believe in a magical fix than to admit, “I don’t know what’s going on,  and that’s terrifying.” 

And guess what, we made it a tradition to spin convincing stories to our  children from when they were born. 

Today, children speak with trembling reverence of Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy, and the Easter Bunny. Who are basically, a burglar with a sweet tooth, a sneaky dental kleptomaniac, and a rabbit who lays chocolate eggs. But we’re cool with that. Because believing weird stuff is baked into our DNA. 

Religion: Spirituality Gets Organised 

Religion, at its core, is a belief system built around the idea of one or  more celestial beings managing the universe like an overworked HR  department. Basically, it’s our species’ way of asking life’s big questions;  Where did we come from? Why are we here? Why do bad things happen  to good people?  

Spirituality is personal. 

Religion is what happens when thousands or millions of people begin sharing the same spiritual ideas. 

Think of spirituality as humming a tune to yourself. 

Religion is turning it into a choir. 

Suddenly there is a conductor.

Hymn books. 

Suddenly there are worship buildings. 

Leaders. 

Rules. 

Dress codes. 

Ceremonies. 

Sacred books. 

Committees. 

Fundraising. 

Someone inevitably volunteers to count the money. 

What begins as a deeply personal search for meaning slowly becomes an institution. 

That’s neither good nor bad. 

It’s simply what human beings do. 

We’re astonishingly talented at turning almost everything into an organisation. 

Give us football… We’ll create FIFA. 

Give us cars… We’ll create the DVLA. 

Give us spirituality… We’ll eventually create denominations, uniforms, annual conferences and  arguments over whose hymn book is the correct one. 

Because humans don’t just build beliefs. 

We build clubs. 

There’s Always Something for Everyone 

Despite the bewildering variety of religions on offer, they can largely be sorted into four main belief systems, from the “There’s only one God”  camp to the “The more gods, the merrier” camp.  

Monotheists (Team One-God): Christianity, Islam, Judaism. Think of them  as the executive suite of heaven; velvet rope, exclusive perks, lots of  commandments. 

Polytheists (Gods R Us): Hinduism, the Greeks, the Romans, and your auntie’s African traditional altar. These folks prefer a full-blown committee of gods managing things like love, war, rain, and suspicious neighbours. 

Non-theists (Spiritual Minimalists): Buddhism, Taoism; the chill crowd who don’t need a god to reach enlightenment, just good posture, inner peace, and a really well-balanced tea ceremony. 

But despite the wide range of belief systems, they all have a few things in  common: elaborate rituals, ancient texts that confuse even scholars,  leaders in luxurious robes who somehow never pay tax, and an uncanny  fear of anyone asking, “Wait, but how does this make sense again?” 

Because if there’s one thing organised religion has perfected, it’s this:  “Thou shalt not question.” Ask too many awkward questions and today you’ll probably get a three-hour sermon. A few centuries ago, you might have received a rather more permanent solution. Many people discovered that asking uncomfortable questions of the religious establishment could be hazardous to your health. The reward could be anything from excommunication to execution. Just ask Jesus… well, you can’t, but His story makes the point.

The Geographic Lottery and Inheritance of Faith 

Religion comes in many different flavours. The interesting part is that, for most of us, we didn’t really choose one; we inherited it. I like to think of it as the geographic lottery of faith. 

If you were born in Saudi Arabia and there’s a very good chance you’ll  grow up Muslim. Be born in Italy and Catholicism will probably be waiting  for you before your first birthday. Arrive in Israel and Judaism is likely to  shape your spiritual identity. Be born in India and the odds strongly favour  Hinduism. 

We inherit our beliefs like family antiques, passed down along with recipes and surnames. To question your religion is often to question your culture, your parents, your ancestors, even your own identity. That’s a heavy weight to lift. So, most people don’t. They stick with what they’ve been given, not because it makes sense, but because it feels familiar.  Safe. Untouchable. 

It’s rather fascinating. Many of us are convinced we’ve discovered the one true religion, when, statistically speaking, our passport may have made that decision long before we learned to walk. If the maternity ward had been on a different continent, there’s a fair chance we’d be defending a completely different set of scriptures with exactly the same enthusiasm. 

Why Religion Is Loosing Its Mojo 

Back in the day, religion was everything. It explained droughts, disease, why crops failed, and why that cow gave birth to a goat, ok that’s an exaggeration, but you get my drift… But now? We’ve got science. We’ve got Google. We know the earth isn’t flat, and we don’t need to sacrifice chickens to cure malaria. 

Belief comes with a trade-off. A phenomenon known as the “God of the gaps” The more we understand, the less we need to mythologize. Illness, once divine punishment, is now a bad day with bacteria. As science continues to fill in the gaps once occupied by the Divine, religion has struggled to maintain the same relevance. And yet, it endures. Why? 

Because religion isn’t just a belief system. It’s also a cultural identity. It’s community. It’s comfort. It’s control. At best, religion is a sanctuary for the soul, a lighthouse in life’s tempests. At worst, it’s a leash around the neck of curiosity. 

Because heaven forbid you wonder why snakes used to talk, or where exactly Cain found a wife. Ask those questions and suddenly you’re not “seeking truth,” you’re “under spiritual attack.” 

Faith Over Facts: Why Doubt is Discouraged 

Let’s not pretend all religions welcome questions with open arms. Many treat doubt like an infectious disease. You’re taught not just to believe, but to believe blindly. You must swallow the scripture whole, no chewing allowed. From Sunday school to Friday prayers, children are taught that loyalty to the belief system is the virtue. Questions? Those are for heretics. 

But what kind of truth needs to be shielded from questions? 

Real truth isn’t delicate. It doesn’t shiver when interrogated. It doesn’t need to be protected by dogma, nor does it require threats of eternal damnation to remain upright. If your belief system collapses under the weight of a question, then perhaps it wasn’t built on truth, it was built on convenience or perhaps control. 

Religion, throughout history, has preferred obedience over inquiry. It of hell outweighs the curiosity of heaven. Ask too many questions, and  suddenly you’re “backsliding” or “possessed.” Meanwhile, the real sin might just be not using your God given gift of curiousity and discernment  … Just saying. 

Agnosticism: The Middle Child of Belief 

If curiosity and discernment was a religion, then it will be Agnosticsm.  Agnosticism is the spiritual Switzerland. Not too hot, not too cold, just…  “Meh.” It says, “Maybe there’s a God, maybe there isn’t. I’m not making any assumptions until someone shows receipts.” It doesn’t start wars, doesn’t build megachurches, and doesn’t try to convert your grandma. It doesn’t burn heretics. It doesn’t promise you 72 virgins or an eternal barbecue in hellfire if you don’t comply. It just says, “We don’t know” 

Agnosticism says, I don’t know. You don’t either. Let’s all calm down and have a drink.” It’s not atheism, it’s not denial. It’s humility. The acceptance that some things may always remain unknown, and that’s okay. 

But most people can’t go there. Not because they’re stupid, oh no, far from it. But because they’ve been handed religion like a family recipe.  You’re born into it. You inherit your mum’s jollof recipe and her fear of asking where talking snakes came from. 

Religion: Blessing or Mind Control? 

Now, let’s be fair. Religion isn’t all hellfire, brimstone and people shouting, “You’re going to hell!” at complete strangers. At its very best, religion has been one of humanity’s greatest social inventions. 

For thousands of years, it has comforted the grieving, given hope to the hopeless and helped people find meaning when life seemed determined to make no sense at all. Whether standing beside a grave, enduring a famine, surviving a war or simply nursing a broken heart, faith has often  given people the strength to keep putting one foot in front of the other. 

Religion has also inspired extraordinary acts of kindness. Across the world, religious communities have built schools, hospitals, orphanages and shelters. They’ve fed the hungry, cared for the sick, championed peace and mobilised millions of volunteers to help complete strangers. In many places, religious institutions were providing education and healthcare long before governments had the resources to do so. 

Perhaps most impressively, religion has an uncanny ability to unite people who would otherwise have little in common. Different languages, different cultures, different skin colours and different nationalities can all stand shoulder to shoulder, believing they belong to one family. 

Whether you believe its inspiration comes from heaven or from humanity’s deepest need for meaning, religion has undoubtedly shaped  civilisation in profound ways. Like any powerful tool, its impact ultimately depends on the hands that wield it. At its best, it encourages compassion over cruelty, generosity over greed and hope over despair. And in a world that often seems short of all three, that’s no small achievement. 

The Dark Side of Religion: Faith Incorporated 

Historically, the Church had some pretty sweet side hustles. In medieval  Europe, the Catholic Church sold indulgences, essentially, “sin insurance.”  And please, before you pull out your pitchforks, let me side track a bit to  explain how it worked:  

The ancient Catholics practice what was called “indulgences.” In essence, indulgences were a way for the faithful to reduce the amount of punishment one would suffer in purgatory due to sins already forgiven on earth.  

Now here’s where it gets interesting: during the medieval period, this took a wild turn, people began paying money for indulgences (rather than doing penance like fasting, prayer, or almsgiving). The idea was that you could, quite literally, put your money where your sins were. 

So essentially, you want to cheat on your wife? No worries, just donate a bag of gold and you’re squeaky clean. It was like divine tax evasion. 

This practice reached full absurdity in the 16th century when indulgence sellers would promise things like: 

“As soon as the coin in the coffer rings, the soul from purgatory springs!” Or “So much grace for so little coin”. 

No, that’s not a joke. That was an actual sales pitch from Johann Tetzel, a  Dominican friar.  

Martin Luther heard that and basically said, “Naah, we’re not doing this,”  and boom we got the Protestant Reformation. 

Today? Same hustle, new branding. In some deprived communities,  where people are desperate for hope and answers, religion has been  commodified into a miracle market. 

Modern prosperity churches sell blessings like they’re on Amazon Prime: “Sow a seed and reap a breakthrough!” 

“Buy this anointing water, now with added healing powers!” 

“Send Mummy G.O. (General Overseer) a new iPhone and watch God  open doors!” 

Meanwhile, Pastor is flying private and the congregation is still praying  for rent money.

The pastors get richer, the followers get poorer, but they stay loyal;  because questioning the system is seen as questioning God. And who in  their right minds wants to be doing that? 

So… Should We Cancel Religion? 

Absolutely not! 

Religion isn’t the problem. Human beings are. 

Give us anything powerful and we’ll eventually find a way to misuse it.  Fire cooked our food… then we invented flamethrowers. Money built  economies… then we invented corruption. The internet gave us the  world’s knowledge… and somehow half of us ended up arguing and  attacking strangers we’d never willingly sit next to on a bus. 

Religion is no different. 

At its best, it teaches compassion, forgiveness, self-discipline and hope.  At its worst, it becomes a franchise selling guilt with a loyalty programme. 

The trick isn’t abandoning religion. It’s learning to tell the difference  between a shepherd and a salesman. 

A Small Apology to My Christian Readers… You’re Just Easier  to Pick On 

By now, some of my Christian readers may be sitting there thinking,  “Hang on a minute… why does Christianity seem to be taking all the  friendly fire?”

Fair question. 

The short answer is this: Christianity simply gets the most screen time.  It’s the Hollywood blockbuster of the world’s religions. It’s the one most  familiar to me and, statistically, to many of my readers. If I were writing  for readers in Riyadh, Delhi or rural Ashanti a few centuries ago, I’d  probably be stepping on completely different theological toes. So don’t mistake familiarity for favouritism. 

Every religion has, at one time or another, watched human beings take a  beautiful idea and drive it into a brick wall at full speed. 

Christianity has had the Crusades, inquisitions and the occasional pastor who appears to have mistaken the collection plate for a venture capital fund. 

Some Islamic sects have justified honour killings, terrorism and violence  while sincerely believing they’re doing God’s performance review.  Thankfully, the overwhelming majority of Muslims reject such practices  entirely. 

African Traditional Religion hasn’t escaped either. What began as  reverence for ancestors and the spiritual world has, in some places, been  hijacked by people using juju, ritual killings, witchcraft accusations and  fear as weapons against their fellow human beings. Apparently, “love thy  neighbour” sometimes gets translated as “curse thy neighbour.” 

Funny, isn’t it?

Three different religions. 

Three different holy books. 

Three different histories. 

Yet somehow the same species keeps making the same mistakes. Almost as if the biggest problem was never the religion… …it was the human reading the instruction manual. 

Because if there’s one thing human beings have perfected over the  centuries, it’s this: give us something sacred, noble and beautiful, and  we’ll eventually find a way to monetise it, politicise it, weaponise it… or all  three over time. 

Final Thoughts: AKA The Closing Prayer 

Religion is still one of humanity’s greatest inventions. 

Long before police stations, psychologists and parenting podcasts, it  gave ordinary people a moral framework. It encouraged charity,  forgiveness, self-control and the revolutionary idea that maybe… just  maybe… murdering your neighbour because his goat looked at you the  wrong way wasn’t the best way to solve a disagreement. So I think religion is worth preserving. But every good invention needs  servicing. Blind devotion has broken more things than curiosity ever has. 

A good religion should make you kinder, wiser and more humble. It  shouldn’t make you terrified of asking perfectly reasonable questions or convince you that your pastor, priest or imam has a direct customer  service line to Heaven’s management team. 

Faith should guide your conscience, not replace it. 

So believe in God if you do. Believe in the universe if you don’t. Believe in  science, philosophy or your grandmother’s suspiciously accurate intuition. 

Just don’t outsource your brain. 

Because if God really did create human beings with the ability to think,  asking questions is probably one of the nicest compliments we can pay  Him. 

And if I’m wrong… 

Well, I’ll find out eventually. 

Preferably after I’ve finished this article. 

Whether your spiritual sign-off is; Amen (let it be), Wassalamu alaykum  (And peace be upon you), Shalom (peace) or Om-Shanti (invocation of  God’s peace) 

 And if you don’t believe in any of them, you can simply mutter,  “Interesting hypothesis.” That’s a perfectly respectable religion too. 

Because when the final chapter of humanity is written, We’re going to be  judged on a much simpler metric: whether we managed to share this  planet with other people who think differently without acting like absolute  sociopaths.