FINDING FAITH IN THE CHARTER - WITHOUT USING MARIJUANA

Behold the Church of the Gerbil, where the Ten Condiments command
that you shall be fuzzy at all times and listen to "The Chipmunk
Song" until the chinchillas come home.

Call us sacrilegious, but we find it hard to take a "religion"
seriously when it not only promotes the use and sale of pot and gives
membership cards to dogs, but also claims The Church of the Gerbil as
an affiliate.

But the Church of the Universe does all of that and still insists
it's a bona fide religion that deserves an exemption under the
Charter of Rights that would let them practise their beliefs by
legally puffing away.

Brothers Peter Styrsky and Sharooz Kharaghani are the
minister-members of the G-13 Mission of God, a branch of the
Hamilton-based Church of the Universe which believes weed is a
religious sacrament, or "the tree of life" as they call it.

But talk about your downer. Both men were charged with trafficking in
2006 after they allegedly sold marijuana to two undercover cops who
infiltrated their church.

With the patience of Job, the Brothers have been in court for months
now arguing that Ontario Superior Court Justice Thea Herman should
throw out the charges because Canada's pot laws violate their freedom
of religion.

With closing arguments finally underway, the judge is in the
unenviable position of deciding "what is a religion?" Not even
Solomon had it this tough.

The defence has contended that religion is relative - it's whatever
an individual determines for himself. So if these beatific guys in
the hemp beanies say pot brings them closer to a supreme being, it's
not the role of the federal government to question their beliefs.

But federal Crowns Nicholas Devlin and Donna Polgar of the Public
Prosecution Service of Canada argue that, under the charter at least,
religion isn't whatever someone says it is and it's certainly not a
"church" created to try and get around marijuana laws.

"It cheapens and demeans freedom of religion to extend this right,
enshrined to shield those who have suffered many of the most vicious
acts of intolerance and oppression throughout history, to lifestyle
choices, which even (they) don't take seriously," they wrote in their
closing submission.

The Crowns questioned everything about the church, from its lack of
theology and worship practices to its secular website and single
point of belief. Nor did they buy Styrsky's sincere belief in weed as
a religious sacrament. Instead, they described him as "an intelligent
man who found a way to transform his affinity for marijuana into a
booming business that could both cure his financial woes and end his
worklife tedium."

As for his church, it has 2,000 members who can sign up online and
includes two German shepherds and four "alarmingly young-looking
teenagers" as members. And rather than a sacred house of worship, the
federal prosecutors say the Beaches "church" looked like a secular
drug shop and smoking den covered with Trailer Park Boys and other
stoner culture posters.

"It looked to the world like a business," Devlin told the court. "It
looked like a cannabis community centre with a store attached."

So is it really a religion or just an inside joke dreamed up by a
couple of Cheech and Chong frat boys with the same kind of sense of
humour that created the almighty Church of the Gerbil?

The faith dedicated to the furry rodent can be found on the Church of
the Universe's website (www.iamm.com) under affiliate "missions".
While it's obviously a parody, Brother Kharaghani testified that they
had every right to call themselves a genuine church as well.

"This could be a serious expression of religion?" he was asked.

"It could be. It could be..." Kharaghani replied.

So do they get charter protection as well? That's about as ridiculous
as calling a pot club a church.

"If freedom of religion is everything, then it's nothing," the Crown
told the court. "If we extend the freedom of religion to the Church
of the Gerbil, then we have killed the right."

To which we can only say Amen.