By STEPHEN McGUIRE

They come in all shapes and sizes. Topped by minarets, gothic steeples and pagoda-styled roofs, they are the safe havens where people from every faith and every culture pause to recognize what unites them, their world and their past.

Queens’ faith is as varied as its ethnic make-up, each culture enjoying its freedom to worship in a different way.

Today, a walk through Queens is a lesson in religion and the American right to worship whatever you believe, but it wasn’t always that way.

In the mid-1600’s town of Flushing, religious differences were not welcomed – especially by those in charge.

The colony — part of larger New Amsterdam — was ruled by the iron handed Governor Peter Stuyvesant, who dictated that the Christianity-based, Dutch Reformed religion was the only one that could be practiced within the settlement.

Through the centuries, the Bowne House has stood as a symbol of John Bowne’s courage to help his neighbors, despite their differences. Pictured above the Bowne House circa 1890 and as seen today.

Stuyvesant’s enforcement of the strict rule left a group of English Quakers, known as The Society of Friends — newcomers to colonial Queens — without a place to worship.

The Quakers were singled out by the Dutch ruler because their interpretation of the scriptures differed heavily from that of the Reform Church.

In addition, the Quakers’ objection to slavery and their generally passive nature made them easy targets of the New Amsterdam religious edict.

In fact, Stuyvesant was so vehemently opposed to the Society of Friends’ religious ways that he issued a ruling which forbid anyone living in the town from admitting Quakers into their homes for any reason – especially to practice their religion.

But as history shows us, sometimes rules are made to be broken.

John Bowne, an Englishman living in the town who felt sympathetic towards their plight, opened the doors of his Flushing home to the Quakers.

Sunday services were held in the kitchen of the Bowne House.

As the Quakers secretly held masses, some residents of early Flushing were growing weary of the stringent religious law.

The Free Synagogue of Flushing marks both the neighborhood where religious tolerance was first declared and the willingness of neighbors to share their faith.

A small group of prominent townspeople gathered together to draw up a document calling for change.

Their declaration of religious independence, called the Flushing Remonstrance, clearly stated to Governor Stuyvestant: "You have been pleased to send up unto us a certain prohibition or command that we should not receive or entertain any of those people called Quakers because they are supposed to be, by some, seducers of the people"

"If any of these people come in love unto us, we cannot in conscience lay violent hands upon them, but give them free egress and regress unto our town."

The invitation to worship freely was not only extended to Quakers, but to "Jews, Turks and Egyptians," – in other words "to all."

"We are bound by the law of God to do good unto all men and evil to no man," the Flushing townspeople wrote to Governor Stuyvesant.

Risking the loss of their jobs and land holdings, 28 Flushing freeholders and two Jamaica residents gathered on the site of what is now the Flushing Armory to sign the document on December 27, 1657.

Although he was not among the original signers of the Remonstrance, Bowne strongly believed in its message and continued to hold services for a growing congregation in his home.

When Dutch officials discovered that his home was slowly being converted into a makeshift religious refuge for the area’s banned Quakers, they fined Bowne, threw him in jail and banished him from the colony.

Bowne’s sentence included being placed on a ship set to sail "wherever it may land."

"Wherever" turned out to be Ireland.

There, Bowne began a journey that led him across Europe — headed for Holland.

Finally arriving in Amsterdam, Bowne pleaded his case to the Dutch West India Company – the financial backers of the Dutch colony in what is now New York.

The directors of the Dutch company agreed with Bowne and released him.

They denounced Stuyvesant’s strict enforcement of the religious law.

"Let everyone remain free," they wrote to the New Amsterdam Governor.

Following two years in exile, Bowne returned to Flushing — free from imprisonment and most importantly, free to practice his religious beliefs.

Bowne’s house, the oldest in the borough, still stands on 37th Avenue and Bowne Street.

But the man with a Flushing street, park and high school named after him left behind a legacy even more powerful than these things.

His bravery and that of the signers of the Remonstrance laid the ground rules for the Declaration of Independence and the First Amendment. The bequest of their efforts is evidenced in the streets of Queens today.

Subsequently, the hard fought road to religious freedom has lead itself back home.

On the streets surrounding the Bowne House you will find the original Friends Meeting House, the oldest house of worship in the entire city.

A few blocks away stands St. George’s Episcopal Church where Declaration of Independence signer Francis Lewis was once a vestryman.

Nearby is St. Michael’s, the first Roman Catholic Parish in Queens, and on surrounding thoroughfares stands the Macedonia Church, a Korean Church, a Hindu Temple, a Japanese Shinto Temple and, St. Nicholas with the largest Greek Orthodox congregation in North America.

Today, Queens is home to over 500 Protestant churches, 115 Synagogues, 100 Roman Catholic Churches, 25 Orthodox churches, 12 Hindu temples, five mosques, and four Buddhist temples. The document that paved the way for these centers of religion recently found its way home as well.

In November, 1999 freedom and tolerance returned to Flushing as the Remonstrance was unveiled at the Flushing branch of the Queens Borough Public Library, where it was on hand to usher in the turning of the new millennium.