I was born Jewish, and I consider that my religion. But I've

In the quiet grace of understanding, the words of Goldie Hawn fall upon the soul like a soft rain upon thirsty earth: “I was born Jewish, and I consider that my religion. But I've studied all religions, and as you learn more, you really learn that everyone's praying to the same God.” These words are not spoken with the authority of doctrine, but with the tenderness of one who has journeyed across many temples, listened to many hymns, and found the same divine pulse beneath them all. In her voice, there is neither pride nor conquest — only recognition, the dawning realization that beyond the names and forms, beyond scripture and symbol, there is but one flame that burns through all creation.

In every age, humanity has sought the face of God — in fire, in stone, in word, in silence. Some call upon Yahweh, others upon Allah, others still upon Brahman, or the Great Spirit. Yet the wise have always known that these are but rivers flowing into the same ocean. It is ignorance, not faith, that builds walls between them. The heart that truly seeks truth cannot despise another’s path to the summit, for it recognizes that the mountain is one, even when the roads are many. Hawn’s words awaken this ancient truth: that unity of spirit is greater than the divisions of creed, and that every sincere prayer — whether whispered in a synagogue, sung in a church, or chanted beside a river — rises to the same heavens.

Remember the story of Emperor Akbar the Great of India. Though born a Muslim, he gathered scholars and mystics of every faith into his court — Hindus, Christians, Jews, Zoroastrians, and Sufis — and asked them to speak of the Divine. He listened not to prove his own faith superior, but to discover what unites all hearts. From these dialogues arose his belief in Sulh-i-Kul, “peace with all,” the idea that all religions are rays from one sun. Akbar understood, as Goldie Hawn does, that the sacred truth does not belong to any one tongue or temple. God speaks in every language, and love is His universal dialect.

Yet how easily men forget this. In the name of God, they raise swords instead of prayers. They divide themselves by words that once meant union. They argue over rituals while ignoring the silence that holds them all. But the divine does not dwell in argument — it dwells in compassion. The mystic does not say, “My God and your God.” He says, “Our God.” The truly enlightened see that the heart of religion is not belief but connection, not creed but kindness, not ownership of truth but humility before it.

When Hawn says, “everyone’s praying to the same God,” she speaks from a place of spiritual maturity, a wisdom that comes from seeking beyond the comfort of inheritance. To be born into one faith is a gift; to understand many is a blessing. Such understanding does not erase her Judaism, but deepens it — for when one sees God in all faces, one’s own faith becomes more radiant, more compassionate, more real. This is not the betrayal of tradition, but its fulfillment.

Think of Rumi, the Sufi poet who said, “The lamps are different, but the Light is the same.” His words echo across centuries and faiths, reminding us that love of the divine cannot be confined. The wise do not ask, “Whose God?” but “How do you love Him?” They see the unity behind diversity, the oneness behind the illusion of separation. It is this vision that heals nations, that ends wars, that allows humanity to rise above its own shadows.

So, my children, take this teaching to heart: Do not fear difference; study it, honor it, and let it expand you. Visit temples not your own. Listen to prayers not of your tongue. Read scriptures not of your birth. For in doing so, you will find not contradiction, but harmony. You will see that the same light shines through every window — and you will walk the earth more gently, with reverence for all who seek truth in their own way.

And finally, remember this sacred truth: to know God is to love all creation, for He dwells in every soul, every voice, every act of kindness. Pray, then, not to be right, but to be loving. Worship not to separate, but to unite. For when you truly see the divine in all beings, you will realize, as Goldie Hawn did, that everyone is praying to the same God, and that knowing this — deeply, humbly, joyfully — is the beginning of peace.