RELIGION: THE SEA OF SAMENESS WITH DIFFERENT FERRYMEN

I once hiked a hill in Nsukka, Enugu State, Nigeria. This venture was quite daunting, and the hill

was an enormous entity. From the top of the hill, I felt like an omnipresent being—like I could

see the world from where I was. It felt like God. While on that hill, I saw calabashes filled with

condiments of all sorts, proof that there was an act of worship to the entity called God. On the

same hill, a group of people were on the other side offering up prayers with bibles in hand,

singing praise and worship songs. Both acts were rendered on the same hill, but one group thinks

their God is different from the other. What both groups don't realize according to Edward

Herbert(1583-1648) is that they have elements in common. There is the belief that:

● There is a supreme being

● this entity should be worshipped

● the significance of this practice is the cultivation of virtue

● there is a wrongdoing to ask repentance from

● one is rewarded or punished in this life and the next.

This made me realize that all religions share a core essence, but differ in their leaders, doctrines

and path, and this difference breeds the ongoing social and cultural divisions. Though religion

differ in rituals and beliefs, they are often en route the same moral waters, guided by different

ferrymen who interpret the divine for their followers.

Across eras and continents, humans have sought to understand the existence of a supreme being

and the causal effect of this being’s presence in their lives and living. The questions: who are

we? Why are we here?, is there something greater beyond this life?, is what ultimately resulted in

the birth of the concept of “Religion”. Every group attempts to bridge the gap between the finite

and the infinite. At the core of religion lies a moral essence—there is the preachment of

compassion, of honesty, of humility, of chastity, of connection and intimate relationship. The

christians speaks of love for ones neighbour, the muslims practice benevolence, the Buddhist

pursues peace through detachment, the Hindu seeks unity with the divine, African traditionalists

express divinity through ancestors and communal consciousness. These paths seem separate, yet

they are all traced to a point of human longing—to live right and be at peace with both self and

spirit. This is the current of water that connects us beneath the surface of differing beliefs.

But every sea needs a ferryman—the one who would interpret the map, tell the stories, and give

shape to the things not seen. The ferrymen in our context are the prophets, the priests, and the

sages who stand between the people and the divine. They offer not just belief, but belonging.

And every ferryman bears the same burden—to lead souls across the torrents of uncertainty.

To think that it is through these ferrymen that the waters begin to divide, is where this concept of

religion corrodes. Over time, people began to confuse the ferryman with the sea itself; the

ferrymen preaching that salvation belonged only to the passengers of their particular boat. Wars

are being fought, blood is being shed, and temples have become fortresses of division. What is

meant to unite becomes the tool for separation, and the sea grows lost in the noise of whose

ferryman is right. The sea still doesn't change—the tides of love, peace, union, continues to

move, even beneath the boats that refuses to see one another. This is why most spiritual thinkers

across all ages, tribe and race, sound the same. The cosmology differs, yes, but the truth remains

that the divine is both beyond and within us waiting to be awakened.

These religions differ deeply in cosmology, ethics, and practice. What one calls salvation, one

calls enlightenment, what one considers sin, is what one calls an illusion. These differences are

what shapes the societies, laws, and daily living, but what the metaphor of the sea seeks to

address is that for true religion to prevail, the focus needs to be on the common depth that

sustains all spiritual thirst. Perhaps, the problem does not lie in the religion themselves, but In

humans’ tendency to claim ownership of truth. We often want our ferryman to be the one who

knows the way, we most of the time mistake conviction for certainty, and reverence for rivalry.

But the truth is, if the sea truly belongs to all, then every ferryman is, in some sense, both right

and limited. Right in the awareness of the divine, and limited by the lens through which he sees

it.

In my opinion, religion is both map and mystery. It teaches us how to live, but also brings to our

notice that no teaching can fully analyse the vastness of God. The sea would always be bigger

than the boats on it, and maybe that is the point— knowing that our journey may differ, but our

destination remains the same horizon. The future of faith may not lie in conversion, but in

comprehension —realizing that we are all passengers of the same sea, just guided by different

ferrymen. If only we looked beyond the boats, we would see we are all sailing the same sea.The

sea has always been one, only the ferrymen changes.

This takes me back to my experience on the hill. Both groups come to worship on the same hill,

but their differing beliefs doesn't make them realize that they are doing the same thing, though

differently, on the same hill(a synonymous metaphor for the “sea”). I believe that the human

longing for a connection with the supreme being, starts from within. It starts with self awareness.

While the human tendency to claim ownership of truth ravages the concept of religion, the union

with self and the realization that the supreme being is the different selves that culminates in a

singular essence, would curb the excesses of the construct of religion. In essence, religion is

“You,” but you seek a “Me” to interpret and explain you, and that is where the problem lies.

©2025 Adanna Ifem