Everyone has, at some point in their life, questioned whether they believe in God. For some, it’s a straight no. We die and it’s the end. Some say maybe, but don’t give it a lot of thought. Some say yes, and dedicate their entire lives to honouring that presence. Whether you believe in God or not, there is no denying that religion has shaped the world we live in. Some of it positive, some of it negative. Faith can undergird by providing a community; yet historically, faith has also meant that people lose their lives simply for believing a different way.

Religion is on the decline in our societies, yet many people answer the big question with “I’m not religious, but I’m spiritual”. This prompted us to open up this issue by looking at how faith can be lived. How can a belief in God—or lack thereof—become an identity? And, how can I still cling to this identity if my views change? We consider the structure of subscribing to, and leaving, religious organisations, versus the label of religion as a cultural marker. We touch on the deeply personal psychology of deconstruction—messy, often painful questions and processes of dismantling a faith you were raised in, or taught to believe.

Part two brings us swiftly into how we conceptualise the divine. Today’s young people have developed a renewed fascination with looking up to what’s above us, finding patterns in the stars, whereas some prefer to spend time in nature, seeking communication with the earth and hugging trees. What does this search for meaning say about us, and what does it mean to find sanctuary in wild or natural places? What happens to our spiritual connection to the world when the very languages we used to describe the sacred are lost? Aramaic is a severely endangered language, yet many still follow Jesus.

Then, we turn to religious commentary—possibly the grittiest section of the whole issue. The recent publication of Caro Claire Burke’s novel, Yesteryear, brought a surge of conversations towards the contemporary trad-wife epidemic. But we also consider how people write about sacred stories across different eras. This section dives into the complex theological undercurrents of Donna Tartt’s writing, and explores the mystical tradition of the Terma texts—sacred Buddhist teachings hidden for future generations to find. What is it about the hidden, the ancient, and the subtextual that makes us feel closer to the divine?

Folklore, myth, and moral stories have an immense amount of wisdom to offer our conversations around manifestations of faith in art and culture. Take the mystery of Loch Ness: how does a creature of the deep transition from a simple campfire story to something that anchors and completes Scottish identity? And how do mythologies—though we know they are mythologies—continue to shape and reshape our moral frameworks in the modern day? Because ultimately, even if formal dogmas fade, our appetite for narrative, metaphor, meaning, or connection to something bigger than us, remains completely unbroken. 

The point of this issue is not to lecture you on which religion is right or wrong. With an issue themed around a subject this vast, there is inevitably something/much that we will miss. The beauty of faith is that it is far too expensive to ever be neatly packaged into 100 pages. Instead, we hope these pages serve as an invitation to question, wander, wonder, and see which patterns you find.

Forgive me for the lengthy introduction this time. These are conversations we need to have, but they should also be treated with caution. Faith is as deeply personal as it is meaningful—and if the world were built on mutual respect between beliefs, we would be living in a completely different reality.