I've always seen our faith as an instrument to embrace our

Hear now the words of Pia Wurtzbach, spoken with both grace and courage: “I’ve always seen our faith as an instrument to embrace our fundamental equality, before God and before our laws, and not as a license to discriminate.” These words rise like a hymn for the modern age — a reminder that faith was never meant to divide, but to unite; never to build walls, but to open hearts. Hers is a call to remember the ancient truth that all souls are children of the same divine breath, and that righteousness is not proven by judgment, but by compassion.

In every age, men and women have wrestled with the meaning of faith — some wielding it as a sword to conquer, others as a light to heal. Pia’s words restore its true purpose: faith as an instrument, not of control, but of harmony. She speaks of equality, not as a concept born of human law, but as a truth that predates all nations — that before God, no crown shines brighter, no robe purer, no skin or creed more sacred. Her vision is the same as that of the prophets of old, who taught that faith without love is hollow, and belief without mercy is blasphemy.

Consider the life of Emperor Ashoka, once a conqueror bathed in blood, who found faith in the teachings of peace. After witnessing the suffering his wars had caused, he turned away from cruelty and became a servant of justice and compassion. He built hospitals, planted trees, and proclaimed that no man should be persecuted for his beliefs. His faith did not give him power over others — it humbled him before them. Like Pia, he saw that faith must be the bridge to equality, not the weapon of separation. Through his transformation, he proved that enlightenment lies not in dominance, but in service.

In her declaration, Pia also speaks to the marriage of faith and law — that the divine and the civic must both honor the same truth: that every human being bears the same dignity. Too often in history, people have cloaked prejudice in the garments of religion. They have said, “God is on my side,” while trampling the divine image in others. But true faith, she reminds us, never seeks permission to hate. The moment belief becomes a license to discriminate, it ceases to be holy and becomes the shadow of pride. For how can one claim to love God, whom one has not seen, and yet despise one’s neighbor, who bears His image?

The ancients wrote that justice is the child of truth and love. Faith without justice becomes superstition; law without love becomes tyranny. Pia’s vision brings both into harmony — that before both God and our laws, equality must reign. She calls us to hold these two mirrors — the sacred and the civic — before our faces and ensure that they reflect the same light. If one shows kindness and the other cruelty, then one is false. Her words challenge not only the heart of believers but the conscience of nations.

We must learn, therefore, to use faith as a tool of understanding, not as a fortress of exclusion. Let each person’s belief be a melody that joins the great chorus of humanity, not a weapon raised against it. When one speaks the language of the soul, there is no “them,” only “us.” To embrace equality is to recognize that the divine spark burns in every being — the poor and the rich, the stranger and the kin, the man and the woman, the believer and the doubter alike.

Let this lesson, then, be carried in your heart as in a sacred scroll: let your faith lift others, never weigh them down. When you pray, let your prayer extend beyond your tribe. When you speak of truth, speak with tenderness, not with scorn. When you see injustice done in the name of God, do not be silent — for silence is consent, and consent is complicity. Defend the dignity of all, for in doing so, you defend the very spirit of the divine.

For in the end, as Pia Wurtzbach so wisely reminds us, faith is not proven by doctrine, but by how we treat one another. It is not in temples or scriptures that its power is most clearly seen, but in the hands that lift, the hearts that forgive, and the laws that uphold equality. Let us, therefore, walk forward in that faith — not to rule, but to love; not to divide, but to heal — until the day when all people may stand, as they were always meant to, equal before God and before one another.