Politicians and anti-Muslim activists frequently take to audiences and websites to criticize the term jihad as a form of Islamic supremacism, oppression, and violence. Muslim extremists, on the other hand, argue that jihad refers to a “holy war” against non-Muslims. Viewing the term jihad through these frameworks alone, however, would be playing into the hands of extremists who forego the other elements encompassed by the term jihad.

In the Islamic tradition, jihad has several different components, including personal struggles, such as the fight against an addiction; social struggles, such as the struggle to become tolerant of others; and occasionally a military struggle, if and when necessary, but only in self-defense. When asked, “What is the major jihad?” Muhammad replied: “The jihad of the self (or the struggle against the personal self).” Contrary to the rhetoric and misinformation about jihad in anti-Islam networks, Muhammad did not say that the violent struggle was the most important form of jihad.

The hysteria in the United States and abroad over jihad has brought me to consider the term through a Christian perspective. In this article, I hope to explore how forms of jihad are presented in Islam and Christianity. This exercise can help to find common characteristics of jihad so that Muslims and Christians can build bridges of mutual understanding and tolerance.

Although the term jihad is not literally used in Christian scripture, the idea of struggling is at the very heart of Christianity. There are a number of instances in the New Testament which provide guidance for Christians who are struggling with different problems or dilemmas in their lives.

One major aspect of the Christian jihad is the practice of non-violence. When the Roman soldiers arrested Jesus and brought him to Pontius Pilate, the man who contributed to Jesus’s crucifixion, Christ said: “My kingdom is not of this world. If it were, my [disciples] would fight to prevent my arrest by the Jews. But now my kingdom is from another place” (John 18: 35-36). Violence is antithetical to Jesus’s teachings. He did not require his followers to take up arms to show commitment to his teachings. Indeed, it was quite the opposite. In Matthew (26:53), Jesus told his followers that “… for all who take the sword will perish by the sword.” Jesus, as you can see, encouraged his disciples to struggle against the desire to use force when frustrated or antagonized. 

Similarly, Islamic scripture also encourages Muslims to struggle against the use of violence. The Qur’an (5:32), for example, notes that “…. If anyone slew a person unless it be for murder or for spreading mischief in the land it would be as if he slew the whole humanity: and if anyone saved a life it would be as if he saved the life of the whole humanity.” In another Qur’anic passage (2:190), Muslims are told to “Fight in the case of God those who start fighting you, but do not transgress limits (or start the attack); for God loveth not transgressors.” It is clear that these two passages echo the Christian jihad of struggling in the name of non-violence.

Another element of the Christian jihad is to show love to those around you. Jesus wants Christians to “love your neighbor” and even beyond that, “love your enemies,” a point which arises in Luke (6:27). In Matthew (5:9), it is written that peacemakers are blessed, “for they will be called sons of God.” The New Testament demands that Christians struggle in the fight for peace, even if it means embracing your sworn enemies and those who wish to harm you.

The Qur’an also requires that Muslims search for ways of making peace instead of war. Muslims, for example, are required to speak well of others even if they are not believers of Islam. In the Qur’an (17:53-54), it is written that Muslims must “speak in a most kindly manner (unto those who do not share [your] beliefs).” There is also no way a Muslim can force others to believe in Islam, as the Qur’an (2:256) mentions that “there is no compulsion in religion.” The jihad in these contexts is one in which Muslims have to work on treating non-Muslims with respect and dignity.

The Christian jihad also requires that Christians do not retaliate “evil for evil.” Romans (12:17) demands that Christians “live at peace with everyone.” People who call themselves Christians, yet call for the demise of Islam and anything related to Muslims, should heed the demand of this verse and search for ways to build bridges for peace instead of fanning the flames of hatred and bigotry. In a similar way, Muslims who call for violent jihad should remember that the Qur’an (4:9) asks Muslims to leave others alone if they leave Muslims alone: “refrain from fighting… and offer [them] peace, then God gives you no way to go against them.”

The Christian jihad can be explored further in the wisdom left by Jesus’ disciples. Peter, for example, is considered “the rock” of Jesus’ church because he spoke about the struggle to maintain the Christian faith at all costs. In 2 Peter (3:14), he stated “… make every effort to be found spotless, blameless and at peace with [Jesus].” In this verse, Peter is highlighting one of the ultimate aims of Christianity — avoid wrongdoing and sin. A true Christian, such as Peter, cared more for fixing his own transgressions rather than attacking others for their sins. He encouraged Christians to struggle with overcoming their personal dilemmas first before bickering and complaining over the errors of others. In essence, he believed progress is rooted in individuals’s ability to change their attitude and behavior in struggling to adhere to the teachings of Jesus.

In addition to Peter, Paul of Tarsus also embraced the Christian jihad. Paul made “every effort to do what leads to peace” (Romans 14:19). In Timothy (6:12), he encouraged Christians to “fight the good fight of the faith,” which can be interpreted as spreading peace and love in the spirit of Jesus. In addition, in 2 Timothy (4:7), Paul stated, “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race. I have kept the faith.” There is an underlying non-violent tone in these statements. Never did Paul ask Christians to take up the sword or use violence as a means of showing faith in Jesus.

Moreover, in 2 Peter (1:5-7), Peter stated that a Christian must “make every effort to add to your faith goodness; and to goodness, knowledge; and to knowledge, self-control and to self-control, perseverance; and to perseverance; godliness; and to godliness, brotherly kindness; and to brotherly kindness, love.” Peter’s emphasis on doing good and searching for knowledge mirrors the Qur’an’s frequent emphasis on ilm, which means “knowledge” in Arabic. Indeed, few religions in the world place so much emphasis on knowledge as Islam. “Knowledge” is mentioned more than 700 times in the Qur’an.

In the Qur’an (58:11), God raises in rank “… those who have been given knowledge.” Muhammad also emphasized knowledge in a Hadith in which he said that “seeking knowledge is a must for every Muslim, male or female, from cradle to grave in any part of the world.” Muhammad also stated in another Hadith that “the ink of the scholar is more sacred than the blood of the martyr.” Christians and Muslims, therefore, share a similar jihad in terms of their obligation to seek out knowledge and apply that knowledge in good faith for the betterment of humanity. 

Jesus, like Muhammad, taught his disciples and future believers that struggling is a fundamental element of the Christian faith. He told his disciples to “strive to enter in at the narrow gate…,” which mirrors the popular Muslim notion of staying on the “straight path” or practicing Islam to the best of one’s ability. Ultimately, Christians and Muslims are guided by their scripture to persevere in the face of their struggles. They are encouraged to struggle in this life, to maintain belief in God, in exchange for a higher reward when this life inevitably ends.

In essence, Christians and Muslims share a similar jihad. This jihad is one of non-violence, the love of humanity, the perfection of the soul, and the search for knowledge.

Respect for life is more than a religious value; it is a constituent dimension of faith found in every major religion of the world. One cannot have faith in a creator God (or an all-embracing transcendent reality) and cavalierly exclude any part of creation—the whole natural and cosmic world are worthy of respect. To affirm the inviolability of the person is to affirm the sacredness, the mystery of the cosmos. Creation is inseparable from the dignity of the cause of its being. While the story of Creation in the Hebrew Scripture has been interpreted in many Christian circles as permission for humans to exploit creation, Genesis’ first chapter express a relationship of respect and responsibility for all that God has brought about. And Muslims affirm: “Indeed, God is the cleaver of grain and date seeds. He brings the living out of the dead and brings the dead out of the living” (Qur’an 6:95).

Respect for life, especially among certain radical Christian groups, is viewed by a broader public as an almost exclusive preoccupation with abortion and medically assisted death. The Christian maxim, “love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you” (Matthew 5: 44), is often ignored by both the advocates of capital punishment in North America and the perfunctory trials and death sentences currently being meted out in Iraq. It is not difficult to understand how the obscene presence of evil in the world alienates religious people from the demands of “true goodness, true responsibility, true justice, a true sense of things—all [of which] grow from roots that go much deeper than the world of our transitory earthly schemes. This is the message that speaks to the very heart of human religiosity” (Vaclav Havel).

Human religiosity must have its concrete embodiment in the everyday lives of people. Religious truths ring hollow and defy belief, when they remain concepts outside the day to day hopes and fears, joys and anxieties of experience. The true believer is not one who assents to a series of propositions, no more than one can be labelled an infidel, because a religious teaching seems irrational. In fact, the divine—Yahweh, Allah, or the Father—is imminently beyond comprehension and the communication of the divine reality is always conditioned by the lives of those who embrace one or the other religious traditions.

The United States, Israel, Islamic nations, and lately even Russia are laying claim to their religious roots. But their vision of religion and faith seems more polytheist and politicized. They all acknowledge “one” God, yet fail to recognize that God in the putative enemies. What does a message of peace—Shalom, Islam, and the beatitudes—sound like when so much violence and disrespect for life are evident in daily confrontations? Rationalizations relying on national interest or national security appeal to general bias and reduce rich religious realities to icons of more primitive human insecurity and mistrust. The will to violence, in fact, reveals the religious bankruptcy of many of these powers.

As a practicing Christian I am conscious of the disconnect between the clarity of the Gospel teachings and the political and cultural agendas of many of my co-believers who often take their religious “truths” out of context, then use these truths as ideologies, without exploring the impact of their choices on the core message of Jesus. Often what it means to be Christian is reduced to the vehement insistence on single issues as the touchstones of orthodoxy. Abortion, the fate of the city of Jerusalem, or support for our troops (whoever we are, whatever their mission) have become in many quarters stand-alone issues, without regard for the context and consequences. Legitimate concern for the safety of their family members too often confuses faith with patriotism and blinds Christians to the destruction war brings to the lives of the “enemy” and the millions of civilians whose lives are daily being taken by death or by hopelessness.

Westerners can “reclaim” their Christian heritage and Jews demonstrate moral integrity by figuring out what Yahweh meant when he reminded them: “You shall not molest or oppress an alien, for you were once aliens yourselves in the land of Egypt” (Exodus 22:20). Muslims, Jews, and Christians can share a stronger hope for achieving peace and affirming human dignity, through reviewing their own religious commitments from the perspective of God the Creator, of Allah, the beneficent and merciful.

As a Catholic I find hope in the attitude and actions of Pope Francis. In a most public fashion the Pope has welcomed asylum seekers and reminded Europe of its obligation to receive them. He has promoted an environmental morality that ties the fate of human life and wellness with the fate of our natural environment. He continually stresses that there is no such thing as less worthy and more worthy human beings. But this willingness to hear the cry of desperation in the voices of asylum seekers and to seek social and ecological justice is not limited to religious groups—an indication of the universality of humankind that religious particularism too easily ignores.

At the same time, there are growing movements in Europe that refuse to welcome these quasi-stateless persons, who have lost their homeland. Often they express fear that the predominantly Muslim refugees threaten Europe’s Christian culture, without realizing that integral to that culture are the works of mercy, the care for the marginalized, the victims of decisions of the powerful and mighty of this world. Nations and businesses continue to disrupt the ecology. They are unable to resist the allure of the wealth, which they believe regulation will prevent them from achieving. Morality and faith are two sides of the same coin. Faith brings one into the dynamic movement of divine compassion and creativity. Morality is allowing God’s being to become compassion and creativity in our own lives. We do not hold God to a “higher standard,” as if there are situations in which humans have the right to unleash the violence and blood-shed of war, to irreparably violate the environment, or to destroy the soul of another. “Do not forget your share of the world. And do good as God has done for you. And desire not corruption in the land” (Qur’an 28:77). The Golden Rule may seem on the surface to be a formula for self-protection (if you don’t want to get hurt, avoid hurting others). Yet, in fact, it captures the interconnectivity of all creation. The gift of life underscores responsibility for life, for all life is interconnected. “…whoever saves the life of one, it shall be as if he had saved the life of all mankind” (Qur’an 5:32).

Religion in public life can, at its worst, lead to oppressive theocracy, social hypocrisy, and disregard for the dignity of persons and groups of people. It easily obscures the loving compassion of the God, whose will it claims to honor. Yet, religion—humbly lived and with a consciousness of its own failures—has a right and a duty to speak openly about the values that make human life together a pursuit of the common good, rather than the survival of the fittest. But if religion is to play a constructive role in the public sphere, it will be necessary to find areas where the adherents of different religions share common goals, values, and beliefs. Polarization within and between religions readily cedes its rightful place in the public sphere to divisive ideology and needlessly blocks working together for the common good. In fact, it becomes false religion by fostering a self-referential morality that narrows the universalism of the original creation and selectively ignore some of the most challenging, yet ennobling, teaching of the most sacred scriptures available to humankind. Religion is not about a vague “more than life,” as if life were something less than what humanity and nature really yearn for. Religion is about life itself and the duty of every believer is to protect and nurture life. That is true worship, for all life is the presence of God in our midst.

The September 11^th terrorist attack was traumatic for many people. At that point in my life, I had been studying Islam for thirty-six years: first as a student, then as a professor of Islamic history and archaeology at the university level. My professional colleagues and I felt that we had been quite successful at communicating the richness and beauty of Islamic faith and culture. Once it became clear that Muslim extremists perpetrated the horrendous acts, it occurred to us that whatever success we had achieved in presenting Islam in a positive light would soon begin to unravel.

In one respect, at least for a while, the opposite happened. People rushed to bookstores to buy books on Islam. Television networks broadcast documentaries about Islam, and various educational, civic, and religious groups sought “experts” to explain this religion of which they knew little more than the name.[1] But that didn’t last. Under the guise of “justice,” some cried out for revenge.

For me, it seemed clear that what was needed were channels of communication, dialogue between Muslims and non-Muslims. Being a committed Christian and knowing that Jesus is extremely important to Muslims, I thought, wouldn’t it be wonderful if the focus for that dialogue were Jesus? A few encounters that I had in the weeks and months that followed convinced me that such a focus was indeed possible.

The first was with a young woman from Pakistan. She was one of the students in my “Introduction to Islam” class. One of the questions on the final exam was to discuss Jesus’s role in Islam. She prefaced her entire exam by identifying herself as a “highly religious Muslim in nearly every regard… (who) uphold(s) the Quranic verses and hadith strictly.” In her answer to the Jesus question, she wrote:

“I find His (Jesus’) contribution to Muslim beliefs to be underestimated [emphasis mine]… He was one of the most respected and beloved messengers of God and He is the One who will descend on the Day of Resurrection to lead the Muslims in the world against evil…. I find it incredible that it is Jesus, not Muhammad, whom the Muslims will follow during the last days of the world. This reinforces my views of Islam as such an adaptive faith.”

After the course, to my amazement, she came to my office and thanked me for reminding Muslims how important Jesus is to them.

The second encounter is a bit more complicated. It was with the son of one of my colleagues. At the time of our conversation, he was enrolled in a PhD program in Islamic studies at Harvard University; he is also a United Church of Christ minister. This is what he said: “My study of Islam has helped me understand the mystery of the Trinity.”

I was startled. How could that be? I thought to myself.

He went on to explain: “The Muslim mystic Ibn al-`Arabi writes that God wants to be known and thus manifests Himself in a variety of ways. The first manifestation can be called God or Allah in Arabic, the name which includes all other names. Ibn al-`Arabi then parses the ninety-nine names of God in interesting ways. Many of the names form pairs. One can speak of God the giver of life, but also of God the bringer of death; God the all-just, and God the all-merciful; God the perfect master, and God the perfect servant.”[2]

“So, how does this relate to the Christian concept of Trinity?” I asked.

He continued: “In Christianity, we might think of the Father as the Perfect Master, and the Son as the Perfect Servant.”

One of my Moroccan friends asked which Arabic name for God translated as perfect servant. I answered “Al-Wali,” which can be translated as friend, not an ordinary friend, but rather a very special friend, a patron or helper. It was difficult for my friend to think of God as lowering himself to the status of a servant. But this is exactly the point. Jesus, by becoming the perfect servant, elevates servanthood to something noble.

Service (hizmet in Turkish), in this sense, is the cornerstone of the Hizmet Movement inspired by the Turkish cleric Fethullah Gülen, who now resides in the Golden Generation Retreat Center near Saylorsburg, Pennsylvania.

My final encounter occurred when I met with the director of the Journalists and Writers Foundation in Istanbul.[3] The director talked about hizmet and the importance of cross-cultural dialogue. Our group was there on an interfaith dialogue mission. I mentioned to him that he was really preaching to the choir. I asked, “How do you promote this philosophy among people less inclined toward universal dialogue?”

He answered without batting an eyelash, “Through example and with humility, just like when Jesus washed his disciples’ feet.”

Convinced that Jesus could be the focus of dialogue between Christians and Muslims, I proceeded to write a book, Jesus, One Man, Two Faiths: A Dialogue between Christians and Muslims.[4] The first chapter develops the metaphor that piecing together a composite image of Jesus is like working a jigsaw puzzle with pieces from two different boxes.

The book moves more or less chronologically through the life of Jesus beginning with the birth narratives in both Christian and Muslim traditions. The story of Jesus’ birth is remarkably similar in both traditions. There are differences, of course, but, for the most part, those differences complement rather than contradict each other.

The narrative moves on to the public ministry of Jesus. It is the story of Jesus the miracle worker, Jesus the perfect servant. Does Jesus perform the same miracles in both traditions? For the most part, he does. How is it and why is it that Jesus performs miracles in the first place? Again, there are some differences in the answers to these questions, but the similarities are striking. In both traditions, Jesus is seen as the perfect servant and, in both, the perfect servant becomes a suffering servant.

This is where the story separates in the two traditions. In Christianity, the perfect servant is sacrificed, crucified to atone for the sins of humanity. Most Muslims, on the other hand, believe that Jesus was not crucified. Someone else was crucified in his stead. This is potentially one of the most serious conflicts in interpretation between Christianity and Islam. But a closer look is warranted. The chapter “The Suffering Servant” provides a wide range of interpretations in both Christianity and Islam.

I had a long talk about the crucifixion with Brother Nahidian, imam of the mosque in Manassas, Virginia. In the end, he said to me, “We can debate the issue of whether or not Jesus was crucified all day long. But that would perhaps miss the more important point, Jesus’ ultimate triumph over death and God raising him up to heaven.”

It is the narrative about the resurrection and the second coming where the stories come together again. It was my student from Pakistan who put me on to new insights. Let me repeat what she wrote: “He [Jesus] is the One who will descend on the Day of Resurrection to lead the Muslims in the world against evil.”

Jesus’s return in the Gospel of Matthew 24:27-31, on the one hand, sounds as if it could be metaphorical. But it also sounds like there will be some kind of real, physical event. And it will be universal, “from the East…visible to the West” and involving “all the nations of the earth.” It will follow a period of turmoil or, as the scripture says, “after the distress of those days.” Jesus will be triumphant; he will “send his angels with a loud trumpet call.” And he will somehow play the role of judge: “he will gather his elect from the four winds.”

Some Muslims minimize Jesus’s role in this event. His role is to announce when the event will take place. But some Muslims, like my student from Pakistan, see Jesus’s role as much greater. Quran 4:159, at the very least, confirms Jesus’s presence on the day of judgment (yaum al-qiyama), as he serves as witness for or against those whom God judges. The hadiths of al-Bukhari and Sahih Muslim give Jesus another role. He will come as the just ruler; he will break the cross and abolish the jizyah, the tax theoretically paid by non-Muslims.

Jesus will break the cross. At first sight, this sounds particularly and specifically anti-Christian. Does it confirm the Muslim denial that Jesus was crucified? Does it nullify the importance that the cross holds for Christians as a symbol of Christ’s sacrifice? Or, can Christians, as well as Muslims, find meaning in Jesus breaking the cross? In this latter case, could the breaking of the cross mean something like Jesus’s ultimate triumph over the evil in the world that sought to kill him, his ultimate triumph over death itself, or the ultimate triumph over death of all righteous people who, in both the Christian and Muslim traditions, will in the end be resurrected from the dead?

Always in the background is the issue of the Trinity, the Christian mystery of three persons in one God. When Christians think about God the Father and Jesus as his only begotten Son, what exactly does “Father” mean in this context? When Muslims say that God does not beget nor is begotten, what does the word “beget” mean to them? What role does the Holy Spirit – or “the Spirit of God,” as the Quran phrases it – play in both traditions? Potentially, these questions are the most divisive between Christianity and Islam. Picking up certain pieces of the puzzle that are laid out in the preceding chapters in the book, the chapter “I Believe in One God” offers answers.

How Christians and Muslims relate to God is the subject of the final chapter. How personal is the relationship? How do they pray? Could they conceivably pray together? I was asked by a university student in Morocco, if I thought that the interfaith dialogue that I described in the book could succeed [his word]. This is what I said to him: “If honest dialogue between Christians and Muslims even begins to address these issues, then it is successful. And that has already happened in my research for the book. If Christians and Muslims actually prayed together, then it would be a smashing success.” And that has happened too.

Quoted from Kirkus Reviews:

Messier [author of Jesus, One Man, Two Faiths] meticulously investigates the points of intersection between the Christian and Islamic traditions. He chooses Jesus, a prominent figure in both faiths, to demonstrate that profound spiritual affinities outweigh scriptural variations between the two… Although the author certainly acknowledges disagreement between the two religions’ teachings, he continually uncovers points of harmony. In fact, he contends that even the differences are ultimately more complementary than contradictory… Although a scholarly work, the book clearly desires to replace endless debate with fruitful conversation: “Praying together would carry with it a willingness to dialogue, to dialogue with self, to dialogue with the other, and possibly to dialogue with the Spirit of God.” Messier’s writing will be impressively accessible to the layperson and tries to illuminate a theologically defensible path to détente between two rival faiths.[5]

https://www.amazon.com/Jesus-One-Faiths-Expanded-Second/dp/1937937070/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=Ron+Messier&qid=1551100391&s=gateway&sr=8-1

[1] For examples of a surge in interest in Islam, see: Liam O’Brien, “The French are buying a lot of books about Islam these days.” https://www.mhpbooks.com/the-french-are-buying-a-lot-of-books-about-islam-these-days/; Sara E. Quay, Amy M. Damico, September 11 in Popular Culture: A Guide, ABC-CLIO, Sep 14, 2010 – Social Science – 319 pages; Clemence Brunet, Embracing Islam in the Age of Terror: Post 9/11 Representations of Islam and Muslims in the United States and Personal Stories of American Converts, A Thesis Presented to the Graduate and Research Committee of Lehigh University in Candidacy for the Degree of Master of Arts, 2013.

[2] Ibn Arabi, Unveiling the Secret of the Most Beautiful Names, Translated by Friends    of Kazi Publications; Kazi Publications, Chicago, IL, USA, 2018.

[3] To visit the Website of the Journalists and Writers Foundation, see http://jwf.org/

[4] Ron Messier, Jesus, One Man, Two Faiths: A Dialogue between Christians and Muslims, New Expanded Edition, Twin Oaks Press, Murfreesboro, TN, USA, 2016.

[5] For the full review, see https://www.kirkusreviews.com/search/?sf=r&q=Jesus+One+Man+Two+Faiths

In a letter to G-20 leaders in 2013 Pope Francis stated, “It is regrettable that, from the very beginning of the conflict in Syria, one-sided interests have prevailed and in fact hindered the search for a solution that would have avoided the senseless massacre now unfolding.” The head of the Roman Catholic Church proceeded to call for “a renewed commitment to seek, with courage and determination, a peaceful solution through dialogue and negotiation of the parties, unanimously supported by the international community.” In hindsight, his words were prophetic. It is now 2017. The atrocities of ISIL, and Boko Haram and the devastation from armed conflict world-wide have increased. The flow of refugees into Europe from Syria has reached epic proportions, testing the ability of diverse and at times conflicting religious cultures to establish mutual understanding and trust. But the situation of ethnic and religious conflict goes beyond narrow Muslim-Christian differences and extends to intra-religious, intra-ethnic, and intra-cultural hostilities.

Sustained commitment and constructive dialogue become difficult when one crisis supplants another in the non-stop flow of information-as-news. Real resolutions require diplomats and politicians to reach an (increasingly unlikely) agreement as to what is at stake, before rational decisions can be made about what to do. With global political discourse focused on “country” and “region,” “national interest” and “homeland security,” responsive strategies lose sight of “the people” and their human right to life, safety, and self-determination. Military intervention does not honour that right; nor do Western strategies favouring partisan economic and geo-political options.

The degradation of human dignity and the apparent overwhelming power of evil is a cause of bewilderment for believers in a loving God, the all-merciful Lord of the worlds. From a Christian perspective the words of Pope Francis, in Joy of the Gospel, resonate with me. “Sometimes I wonder if there are people in today’s world who are really concerned about generating processes of people-building, as opposed to obtaining immediate results, which yield easy, quick short-term political gains, but do not enhance human fullness.”  

Homeland security or global solidarity?
None of us—neither Christian nor Muslim—stands outside this concern; none is unaffected by the suffering. In a 2013 vigil, Pope Francis prayed that God give all “Christians, and our brothers and sisters of other religions, and every man and woman of good will,” the resolve to “cry out forcefully: violence and war are never the way to peace!” And he offered, in a non-particularistic phrase, the “goodness of creation” as the moral standard for judgment. Those who call “Allah, the Lord of the worlds” and those who call “God, the Father Almighty, creator of heaven and earth,” appeal to a moral measure beyond national security or sectarian interests to a shared sense of humanity, whose dignity cannot be negotiated at the tables of political or economic power.

Against such a profound understanding of human dignity—a dignity that transcends even human legislation—it is difficult to argue in favour of bombing or boots on the ground, which will inevitably feed international crises, create divisions among groups, and erode human hope. It is equally untenable to stand by, numbed and inactive, in the face of the enormous and relentless degradation of humanity.

A creation perspective would allow governmental and legislative policy makers to let go of the Gordian knot of irreconcilable—because partial—positions on what ought to be done. It is difficult enough to define justice in peaceful times – and most difficult when the definition is skewed by particular interests and shared biases that pass for common sense.

On the Catholic side of the dialogue, Pope Francis stresses our moral obligation, not only to respond to violence, but to look at the prejudices that enforce and are enforced by entrenched positions, especially those of cultural and economic exclusion.

One of these prejudices is the idea of distance or of space or territory, where we view boundaries and borders as principles of containment or security—a notion pursued by both terrorists and anti-terrorists. “Giving priority to space means madly attempting to keep everything together in the present, trying to possess all the spaces of power and of self-assertion; it is to crystallize processes and presume to hold them back.” The Pope calls for “giving priority to time … being concerned about initiating processes rather than possessing spaces.” He readily concedes, however, that while easily imagined such hopes do not readily penetrate the heart and move the will. He blames a mindset that compromises truth and goodness through political self-interest, a “globalisation of indifference,” and an intellectual laziness that can no longer be bothered with authentic “dialogue and reconciliation.”

If the Pope appeals to the conscience of world leaders, he appeals more directly to the conscience of every person.

Both Christians and Muslims have substantive reasons for opposing war, not least of which is the economic hardships suffered by the poor in their respective nations. But we in the West are joined to the victims in the Middle East and Africa, along with all those following dangerous migration routes in hope of new lives. We are connected as well to the impasse to peace created by dominant economic and political structures benefitting the West. As Pope Francis says, “Today in many places we hear a call for greater security. But until exclusion and inequality in society and between peoples are reversed, it will be impossible to eliminate violence.” Economic and political structures have a causal relationship to the oppressive conditions and revolutionary anger that fuel violence not only in the Middle East, but across the world and within our own nation and neighborhoods.

While calling on divine intercession and protection is an authentic expression of religion, without meaningful deeds on the part of believers, these words become routine and empty. Moral outrage without decisive action toward significant resolution leads to hypocrisy.

It is not enough to feel bad about the wanton violence and degradation of life that has become commonplace, or to make moral judgments about the failure of politicians and governments to act effectively. Pope Francis insists, “We need to give priority to actions which generate new processes in society and engage other persons and groups who can develop them to the point that they bear fruit in significant historical events.”

Only communicative action and authentic conversation can contribute to a satisfactory outcome—not one that brings about “eternal peace” (as was the dream of Kant), but that creates the conditions for human progress, an alternative to the current cycle of decline. Here is an appeal to conscience, a summons to act.

Conscience is more than a moral judgement about something “out there;” it makes a claim on the one making that judgment. We are not spectators in an evil world; we are connected to that world, and share in that evil—some by being its direct victims. The continuation of soul-destroying violence threatens to extinguish everyone’s sense of human dignity and the value of life.

Formation of conscience and the task of building a moral community
Conscience is often portrayed as a mysterious inner voice that tells us that what we have done, are doing, or thinking of doing is morally good or evil. The pinch of conscience, in this view, can torment a person until he or she repents. While we may try to dull it, conscience can never be totally silenced. Conscience is not a moral “app” that works like something independent of who we are. Its range is often limited by bias and culture to individual actions, choices, and attitudes. Moral education for most of us has not included weighing our relationship to or responsibility for the violence, suffering, and pain that is so real in the lives of millions.

However, the incessant reports of unspeakable violence and insufferable circumstances of the lives of countless others is a summons to find a space where we can leave behind the rhetoric that narrows our understanding and feeds the impatience and indifference that leads to the apathy of despair or the anger of militarism. But we must go further in order to become a strong social force.

Because the world’s Muslims and Christians do not belong to a single organization or community in the simplest sense of that word, one cannot expect a spontaneous emergence of a shared understanding and common will that leads to peace. We need a process that fosters the development of a collective moral consciousness among and between Muslims and Catholics, and enables groups and individuals to make decisions and take actions that offer alternatives to war.

Religious leaders must lead and not just moralize. How can they demonstrate that believers are able to act with cooperative, conscientious responsibility? First of all, Muslims must dialogue with other Muslims, and Christians with other Christians, about how they can respond in faith to suffering and injustice. An internal discussion is not a substitute, but may be a condition for a Christian-Muslim exchange. It is also a prerequisite for dialogue with other citizens and the formation of public opinion with transformative potential in the face of current fatalism over the possibility of harmony in the world.

The kind of process and dialogue that leads to resolution and action requires structure and organization, which in turn depends on leadership and inspiration. If the religious leaders believe in what they preach, they will recognize this moment as a transformative opportunity, an opportunity to bring their followers together to think seriously about the senseless escalation of violence in our world.

The kind of dialogue that is needed will require coming together in prayerful resolve, to gather often and share at length in order to even begin to gain some understanding of what is happening. A transformative moral consciousness in Islam and Christianity can only take root in the lives of people.

Resistance to the radical rejection of life inherent in escalating global violence is not just a matter of religious morality. Wherever people of conscience raise their voices and act against the de-humanizing intent and consequences of terrorism, we are all summoned to stand with them. Standing up to any threat to humanity is not a “Christian” or “Muslim” issue. But it is one that challenges all believers to make clear what faith means in terms of the real lives of people in tangible solidarity with the victims of violence.

More than a war for territory or property, this is a struggle for the minds of people. It requires an acknowledgement of the feelings, and even despair, of heartbreak and compassion as a necessary prelude to talking about how to respond. We don’t need simplistic or naive ideas. We don’t need to fall into hasty reductionisms that reduce “the whole problem” to this or that. Dialogue must be patient, and, as Pope Francis suggested, it needs us to not be overwhelmed by the urgency, so that we do not lose sight of the other and not hear what they are saying. If neither side learns from the other, nothing is accomplished.

Such a process is risky and can get out of hand. It may be subject to conflict between people with entrenched or simplistic political opinions. But the development of a moral will for peace requires leaders who can help participants learn mutual respect and gain the capacity for conversation.

The hope, however, is that as we learn to listen to one another and that the bonds of inter-religious community will, in the vision of Canadian philosopher Bernard Lonergan, “make the experience of each resonate to the experience of others and arouse in all a drive to understand and an insistence on behaving intelligently that generates and implements common ways, common manners, common undertaking, common commitments.”

In the face of the atrocities multiplying daily in centres of violence around the world, Catholics cannot be spectators; they must be actors. For moral opinion to become formative of public will, and for social justice to become a mass social movement, something has to change. The process of creating a truly human moral consciousness, capable of peace-making, with the credibility and persuasiveness to influence world politics, begins with the recognition that we are not spectators.

Across the country, in the months following 9/11, other events took place; although they were of a different scale, they were equally evil. The murders of Muslims or people identified as Muslims, the willful destruction of Muslim-owned property, and the bullying and mistreatment of people with “Muslim-sounding” names occurred frequently in the guise of retaliation or justice. This atmosphere of intolerance did not sit well with me. I knew that my neighbors who were Muslim were not evil people, and I felt that a faith which had birthed so much beauty over its history could not be solely evil. My own faith was one of the many Christian traditions born in the spiritual renewal which swept through the United States in this nation’s early days. Many of these early Christians had been persecuted by their neighbors due to intolerance and fear born of ignorance; this element within my family’s history helped me to recognize the injustice of what was occurring.

I am a Christian minister, I am an artist, and I am an educator. My responsibility to my faith is to seek God and His goodness wherever they might be found; my drive as an artist is to recognize and share the beauties of God’s creation wherever they may be; and my goal as an educator is to help open minds so they may be receptive to knowledge and the inspiration of God’s love, however it manifests. After 9/11, I was determined to learn about Islam – not from the media-driven mindset of sensationalism and sound-bites, but with an eye open to truth and a mind open to the promptings of the Spirit, and to give the faith the same respect I felt my own beliefs deserve. I met with Muslims and asked them what they believed, and I read the source documents of the faith, the Holy Qur’an and the Hadith. Those who responded to my questions were scholars, imams, sheikhs, and laity from all over the world, from multiple schools of Islamic thought and practice. From these many, many points of view a picture of Islam as a faith and Muslims as a people emerged. This picture shook me profoundly – there was a great deal more we shared than I had thought possible.

Muslims love their children. Muslims believe in God – the same God in which I believe (in Mark 15:34, in the New Testament, Jesus called God “Eloi,” the same word in Aramaic as “Allah”). Muslims love education, finding truth, and caring for their neighbors. The list could go on and on. There was nothing I could find in the Qur’an which said anything about the supposed glories of terrorism; in fact it was plain that such violence angers our Creator more profoundly than almost any other evil. How then could I share this knowledge with those around me? Shortly after asking this question, I happened upon the tradition of the 99 Most Beautiful Names of God, or Asma al-Husna, and I recognized this was not a coincidence. The answer was to begin building and showing glass sculptures to explore the wisdom and meaning of each of the 99 Names from the point of view of a Christian.

The 99 Names Project is meant primarily to provide an excuse for dialog; each work is the result of prayerful research bringing together Muslim views of each Name with the points of convergence I see in my own Christian faith. As such, the initial dialog begins with me. I read references to the Names in the Qur’an as well as in the writings of scholars like Rumi. I visit Muslim scholars, ecclesiastical leaders, and laity, and ask them about the Names. I then cross-reference what I learn with what I find in the Bible. Then, I prayerfully consider what motifs and designs in Islamic artistic tradition best correspond with what I have discovered; develop new images and patterns emulating traditional works; and build up shapes with the sculptures to communicate this whole process of learning. One of the first things I discovered is that unlike in my own Christian tradition, figurative work having to do with the Deity is entirely inappropriate in Islamic tradition, so the works are abstract and non-representational.

There are three elements which consistently return in the works. The most visible is geometry: all truth comes from the same Source regardless of the site of its discovery or the language of its transmission. It seemed the best way to symbolize this is through the purity of mathematics and its material manifestation. Another primary element is architectural structure. One truth shared between my Christian faith and that of my Muslim brothers is the honor and responsibility of building the kingdom of God on earth, and the earliest Muslim buildings were shared in peace by the believers of many faiths. The third element is a bookbinding sensibility. The widespread use of art in books is perhaps the most important element shared among my sculptures because it symbolizes the vital role of the Qur’an. In my Christian faith, I recognize Jesus as the Word of God made flesh and he is the bridge connecting me to God; in Islam, the Word of God is made legible, and the miraculous bridge uniting God and man can be read every day.

Building the Name Forgiving (Al-Ghaffar) is a good example of the overall process. The shape was built as a softened cube and doors were mounted on each surface, perpetually pointing inward. The design elements were drawn from Ottoman history, one of the most pluralist and inclusive societies of medieval times. The floor of the sculpture is etched and painted with the traditional 8-pointed star and cross pattern known as “Compassionate Breath,” and a cup of white liquid is in the center. I had considered several colors for the liquid, including clear and gold, but felt prompted to use white.

At the first display of the finished sculpture, a Turkish man complimented me on the work and asked why I had placed milk in the center of the welcoming doors. I explained I had no idea, but felt compelled by something outside myself. He explained that the cup was filled with the color of the rivers of heaven, and felt the sculpture was just right. The ongoing experience of this project is a dance between what I am learning about Muslims and the nudges or promptings I receive; these are my heartfelt responses to the Divine Names of God, built from a place of reverence and respect for those I now know are my spiritual siblings, fellow children of father Abraham. I may have no idea why the nudge or prompt to action comes, but experiences like this one show me how important it is to listen to that small voice.

When this project started, I was given counsel by many of the Muslims I interviewed to take my time and open my heart to Divine guidance. It has taken 3 years to build the first 25 sculptures, and I have documented these in a book, 99 Names: 1 to 25 (A Christian’s Exploration of the Names of God from the Qur’an in Glass). There has been some negative feedback, including a very small minority of Muslims who felt it was inappropriate for a non-Muslim to examine Muslim themes and a few Christians concerned I was losing my perspective as a Christian. However, something remarkable happened. Throughout this process, I have learned about many points of agreement and separation in our respective faiths. I have rejoiced in our similarities and I respect our differences – and rather than diluting my Christian beliefs, my faith has expanded, grown, and deepened. As Fethullah Gülen teaches, something holy happens through the process of education, and such an exercise can only result in the growth of those involved.

These sculptures are meant to show our many points of convergence and understanding, and to celebrate opportunities for learning, dialog, and friendship. Regardless of the faith we claim or how we pronounce the Name of our Creator, we are all, first and foremost, human and His creations. God is Beautiful and loves beauty, and I pray He finds this offering acceptable.

99 Names: 1 to 25
A Christian’s Exploration of the Names of God from the Qur’an in Glass
2013
978-1490510750
CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform

Annemarie Schimmel was born in Erfurt, Germany, in 1922. She grew up in a home full of talk about mysticism and philosophy. She was one of the young Germans of the 19th and 20th centuries who fell asleep with the Stories of 1001 Nights. Her father, a postal worker, was deeply interested in mysticism. During the Nazi era, the young Annemarie discovered her passion for the Arabic language and Arab culture. Once a week, she received private lessons in Arabic and Islamic Studies by Hans Ellenberg, whom she called Efendi. Already, at the age of 19, she had completed her doctorate on the subject, “The Position of the Caliph and the Qadis in Late Medieval Egypt.” She published more than 120 books and studied and translated, among other things, Arabic and Persian poets such as Mawlana Rumi, Ibn Ataullah, Hallaj, Yunus Emre, and Muhammad Iqbal, who wrote about mysticism and the love of God. As an Islamic scholar, she is still highly esteemed in the East and the West. Here is just one example:

Love

In passion deep my heart fell –
Just look, what love has made of me!
I gave my head to strife and pain –
Just look, what love has made of me!
I silently weep to myself,
While love stains me in blood,
Can’t be sober, can’t be confused –
Just look, what love has made of me!
Yunus Emre

The languages she knew included Turkish, Persian, Urdu, Turkmen, French, Pashto, Hindi, Kurdish, Swedish, and also Arabic, which she was able to speak in more than 10 dialects. Besides her talent for learning languages, she was also a gifted speaker and gave lectures in Turkish, Persian, and Arabic that sometimes lasted hours.

She had a special passion for ornamentation, calligraphy, and architecture. Almost all of her published books are illustrated and many a chapter is introduced with calligraphic verses from the Qur’an. One of her books is titled, In the name of Allah the All-Merciful.

Annemarie Schimmel has received many awards and honors: honorary doctorates from the universities of Konya, Islamabad, and Sind; the Hilal-i Imtiyaz Medal (the highest award in Pakistan); the Gold Medal of the city of Istanbul; the Arts and Science Medal of the Republic of Turkey; the Peace Prize of the German Book Trade; and the Federal Cross of Merit. Thanks to her strong commitment for a better understanding between nations, her advice was taken seriously all over the world. Since her death, she has not been forgotten; in the Pakistani metropolis of Lahore, for instance, a main road was named after her – the Hiyaban-i Annemarie Schimmel Road. In Iran, she is much appreciated and often quoted. In Turkey, she became immortal as the unforgettable Cemile.

The bridge builder

“Nowadays broader circles of our society realize that a certain understanding of other cultures is needed to avoid the dangerous generalizations the media are replete with. It is a must to learn about the history of the ‘other.’ In my opinion, it is very important that we also address the intellectual history of Islam, recognize its outstanding cultural achievements, and strive to find common ground, even if it is sometimes difficult.”

During her life as a scholar, Annemarie Schimmel focused intensively on improving understanding between Islam and the West. With her in-depth analysis, she communicated the ideological and artistic content of Islamic culture, and especially its beauty and intellectual wealth – not only to German or European readers, but also to Americans and other cultures. She was always committed to dialogue, and made an effort – through media, literature, and face-to-face meetings – to get Christians interested in Islamic culture and Muslims interested in Christian culture. In the verses of famous Islamic poets and mystics she met the “true” Islam, which is embedded in believers’ hearts and waiting to be discovered.

For her, the first prerequisite for dialogue is knowledge of one’s own culture and the other culture, be a person Christian, Jewish, or Buddhist.

“Without mutual knowledge there is no mutual understanding, without understanding there is no mutual respect and no trust, and without trust, there is no peace, but the risk of a clash.”

Annemarie Schimmel would never have entered a dialogue without knowledge about the culture of her counterpart. In her view, people should keep and practice their religions. They should take it seriously, but at the same time, try to get to know other cultures and values and to accept them. In many conversations and interviews, she regretted that the Christian and the Islamic cultures knew so little about each other, because if they knew, they would surely appreciate each other – which she experienced over and over again during her long stays in Islamic countries. According to her, even brief conversations with taxi drivers can be very valuable in this regard.

She became friends with countless people from other cultures. Her image of Islam was not shaped primarily by her years of occupation with Islamic literature and art, but rather by the encounters with Muslim friends around the world and from all walks of life, who invited and received her lovingly in their houses and made her familiar with their culture.

Ms. Schimmel traveled with her mother from Edirne to Konya and Gaziantep, throughout Anatolia. They met with many people, from all layers of society, every one of whom taught them another personal piece of Turkish culture.

“We have to get to know other cultures better. You never finish with it; there is always something new to learn and to do: reading, giving lectures, and just keeping people informed. Everybody who knows Islam knows that Islam and terrorism have nothing in common,” she said in an interview. She relied on a quote of St. Augustine’s, “Res tantum cognoscitur quantum diligitur” (You only understand what you love), and on an Arabic proverb, which is mentioned in the prose works of Rumi: “Man is the enemy of what he does not know.”

Only a few Christians know that in Islam, Jesus is considered a forerunner to Muhammad and therefore enjoys the highest esteem in the eyes of Muslims, whereas Muhammad has a negative image in the West, peace be upon them both. Ms. Schimmel complained about this. In her book Jesus and Mary in Islamic Mysticism, she noted that Jesus is mentioned in the Qur’an in 15 chapters and a total of 93 verses, and that Mary is the only woman who is mentioned in the Qur’an by name – and thus is of great importance to all Muslim women.

Her greatest concern was a dialogue of equals. In Germany, she regretted and criticized that, for a long time, Catholic bishops had no other dialogue partners than Turkish engineers and distributors. She deemed this fact a main obstacle to understanding. Therefore she encouraged the German government to educate Imams and German-Islamic theologians. Eight years after her death, her wish came true. In April, 2011, the inauguration of the Centre for Islamic Theology at Tübingen took place – a milestone for interfaith dialogue in Germany.

Ms. Schimmel made the Turkish culture known in Germany and the German culture known in Islamic countries. During a five-year stay in Turkey, she wrote innumerable articles under her pseudonym, Cemile Kıratlı, for the magazines Hayat and Istanbul Dergisi. She did not forget her roots, but at the same time tried to absorb other cultures.

Annemarie Schimmel died in Bonn, in 2003, at the age of 81. Before her death, she said she was looking forward to finally seeing the hereafter with her own eyes, rather than only reading about it. Her last wish was that at her funeral, the opening chapter of the Qur’an be recited. Friends have engraved her life motto in both German and Persian on her grave stone: “People sleep, and when they die, they wake up.”

Conclusion

In her pursuit of understanding, Annemarie Schimmel was a role model for all people. It is important for our society to respect her efforts and follow her example. It is important that the Christian and the Islamic cultures get to know each other better in the future, because this is the only way prejudices and misunderstandings can be reduced. Annemarie Schimmel, Herder, Goethe, Klee, Rilke, Rumi, Yunus Emre, and Iqbal have proved the fact that there are no impenetrable barriers between cultures and religions.

“Then one day – Inshallah, God willing – we will find, as Goethe did, a way that will enrich both sides: the Orient through the encounter with the deep-rooted European culture and us through the knowledge of an infinitely rich past and a versatile oriental culture that comes to light in literature and grammar, in the heights of mysticism, but also in the most beautiful flowers of the arabesques. And then perhaps we may one day say (as Goethe put it once so well): Orient and Occident can no longer be separated.”

A few examples from Schimmel’s works: As Through A Veil : Mystical Poetry in Islam (1982); Mystical Dimensions of Islam (1975); Islam: An Introduction (1992); My Soul Is A Woman: The Feminine in Islam (1997); A Two-Colored Brocade: The Imagery of Persian Poetry (1992); Mohammad Iqbal, Poet and Philosopher (1960); Calligraphy and Islamic Culture (1990); A Dance of Sparks: Imagery of Fire in Ghalib’s Poetry (1983)

With his new book, Insights from the Risale-i Nur, Thomas Michel sets out to answer some of these questions. Michel states his goal very early in the book: as a Jesuit priest, he wants to know where, if at all, he can find “points of convergence” between Christianity and Islam within Bediüzzaman Said Nursi’s (d. 1960) seminal “Risale-i Nur.”

It turns out there aren’t just a few points, but many. And throughout Michel’s book – which is a collection of essays, speeches, and presentations the priest has delivered over the last two decades – he lays the groundwork for a healthy, constructive dialogue between not just Christians and Muslims, but peoples of all faith.

Nursi wrote the “Risale-i Nur” in the wake of two world wars. He’d watched as the secular advances of Western civilization had led to the near total destruction of Europe – not once, but twice. The collateral damage had deeply affected his home, Turkey, and its neighbors. And he endured the ill effects of Turkey’s own modernization efforts, as he was repeatedly persecuted and imprisoned for his faith.

Under such circumstances, it would have been understandable if his book had been rife with anger. Instead, as Michel astutely shows throughout his own thoughtful book, Nursi’s commentary is remarkably hopeful. He sought these “points of convergence” while also stressing what he believed as the truth of his own faith. Michel adeptly uses Nursi’s words to draw out the common ground between different faiths, and looks at how these similarities can be applied in our equally fraught contemporary age.

Both Christianity and Islam pinpoint the destruction wrought by war and poverty as having germinated not from faith, but from rampant materialism run to its natural conclusion. In a quote that Michel returns to, time and again, Nursi writes:

Europe is two. One follows the sciences which serve justice and right
And the industries beneficial for the life of society it has received from
True Christianity; this first Europe I am not addressing. I am rather
Addressing the second, corrupt Europe which, through the darkness of
The philosophy of naturalism, supposing the evils of civilization to be
Its virtues, has driven mankind to vice and misguidance.

Michel routinely connects Nursi’s, and Islam’s, distress about materialism and greed with Christianity and Judaism’s distress about the same things. The book’s second essay charts the overlaps between Nursi and Pope John Paul II in their approaches to forgiveness. Both men believed that materialism, and the selfishness it fosters, are antithetical to healthy, fulfilled communities. People of faith, no matter their belief systems, believe that a truly rich life involves more than the simple acquisition of transient materials. This common desire – for communities based on mutual love and respect instead of self-interest – is a major point of convergence. As Nursi writes, “Our enemy, that which is destroying us, is Lord Ignorance, his son [Master] Poverty Efendi, and grandson, [Mr] Enmity Bey.”

Michel shows that, although Nursi believed adamantly in the truth of his faith, he also believed that true followers of the other “revealed religions” were friends and allies of Islam. Writing after the Second World War, Nursi stated that innocents who had died “were martyrs of a sort, whatever religion they belonged to.” In the aftermath of an invasion that mostly destroyed the city of Van, Nursi “…wept without distinction for both the Christian and Muslim victims, who had been his ‘friends and acquaintances.’” In these acts of kindness, Michel finds common ground with Nursi – both of their faiths value the dignity of every human life.

In a world in which the pursuit of wealth and immediate satisfaction guides so many human interactions, this value is not always present. All too often, people from different walks of life are viewed as obstacles to a person attaining the material satisfaction they’ve come to believe is rightfully theirs.

Michel sums up this perspective succinctly in one of the most important essays in the book, “Dialogue among Believers.” He writes, “Instead of fostering fellowship and mutual aid among nations, social values are too often oriented toward providing the populace with amusements, distractions, and opportunities for instant gratification.”

Such striving for material rewards – the pursuit of which lies at the heart of capitalism, which often functions as a “secular” religion – has resulted in the debasement and poverty of a large portion of the world’s population. This dehumanization and desacralizing of human life is at the root of most religious concerns about contemporary culture. Instead of working towards a “higher good” – community, peace, or God – people are focused on self-actualization through consumption. But as Jesus says in the gospel of Matthew, chapter 4, verse 4, “Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.” The Qur’an echoes this when it says, in chapter 63, verse 9, “Let not your properties … divert you from the remembrance of God.” It’s not difficult to interpret these quotes to mean that humanity should not simply honor and respect God, but should also honor and respect God’s creations through reverence and peace. Material possessions alone cannot fill a person’s spirit; this is a belief almost all religions share.

Both Nursi and Michel feel that the absence of religion – and not the differences between faiths – has led to the wars and poverties of the last century. This is a belief that many, many people of faith share. The essays in the book continually return to these themes of common interest. By having a dialogue with Nursi’s text, and by viewing that text in its best possible context, Michel establishes a space for further dialogue between people of all faiths to occur. Both men express their adamant belief that faith – be it Christian, Jewish, Muslim, or something else – has an important, vital role to play in establishing a broad, lasting peace. Michel, like Nursi before him, remains hopeful about the future role faith will play in a more peaceful, tolerant world. This book serves as a dialogue between two religions, and it builds a foundation for future dialogues. It is a foundation built of respect, devoted faith, and a deep commitment to the dignity of every life. These are not Christian, Muslim, or Jewish values – they are universal values.

Many have described Louis Massignon’s voice as “prophetic” and his own intense religious faith and commitment as “mystical.” Some have called him an “Islamized Christian” due to his passionate desire “to know,” to understand Islam and the experience of his Muslim friends and colleagues from the inside out. His relationship with the Muslim world began in his early twenties when he was introduced to the 10th century Persian Sufi saint and mystic known as Husayn Ibn Mansur al-Hallaj. Hallaj was born into an Arabic speaking family in a small town in Iran in 858 CE and became a renowned teacher and outspoken lover of Allah with many followers. A threat to the religious establishment, he was subjected to a long imprisonment in Baghdad before being put to death in 922 CE. Massignon was intrigued by this story and began his research on the life and legend of al-Hallaj, initially for his University dissertation.

While on an archeological mission for the French government in Baghdad in 1908 and simultaneously researching his thesis on al-Hallaj, Massignon experienced an intense encounter with the Divine that he later described as “the Visitation of a Stranger” breaking into his life and throwing him to his knees in a moment of supplication that caused him to cry out in Arabic, “God, help my weakness.” He was 25 years old. At that time Massignon had been immersed in his study of Arabic, Arab culture, and Islam and his unusual conversion experience in the midst of the Muslim world brought him back to his Roman Catholic roots. He was sure that his religious conversion was due in part to the intercession of the 10th century Muslim saint, al-Hallaj along with the prayers of his Muslim friends.

It is to some aspects of Massignon’s extensive legacy as a pioneer of our current understanding of interreligious dialogue that I wish to focus this tribute to Louis Massignon on the 50th anniversary of his death.

The Badaliya

In Damietta, Egypt in 1934 Massignon and an Egyptian Melkite Christian woman, Mary Kahil founded a prayer movement that they called the “Badaliya,” or “substitution.” The prayer of offering one’s life for the sake of others was a profoundly mystical interpretation of Christianity for followers of Jesus Christ, the One who offered his life for the salvation of all of humanity. The Badaliya was established in the Middle East to encourage what Louis Massignon saw as the “vocation” of the Christians who have lived there since the time of Jesus to be witnesses of Christ’s love for all people. Massignon envisioned that those Christians who are living in the Middle East are called to “cross over” to their Muslim neighbors, to pray for them that God’s will be done in them, to befriend them, work with them and come to love them as Christ loves us, even to the point of offering ones lives for them if necessary. That is how much God loves us all so we must love one another in the same way. Many small groups around the world along with individuals, both religious and lay persons joined the monthly Badaliya gatherings in person or in spirit. Inspired by the hermit Priest, Charles de Foucauld who lived amidst the Muslim Tuareg people in the Algerian Sahara and others, including the Indian guru Mahatma Gandhi, they were dedicated to fasting and praying for non-violent resolution of conflicts throughout the world especially in the Middle East. The group in Paris dissolved when Massignon died in 1962 but Mary Kahil continued in Cairo until she died at the age of 90 in 1979.

On December 8th, 2002, following the attacks on the World Trade Center in NYC, the Pentagon in Washington DC and in Pennsylvania on September 11, 2001, a small group gathered in Boston, Massachusetts to re-create the Badaliya prayer in the spirit of Louis Massignon and Mary Kahil. They are dedicated to peace and reconciliation for all three Abrahamic faith traditions, especially in the Middle East, and to learning about Islam and the Muslim world by befriending the Muslim community in our own neighborhoods. Use of the internet has broadened our membership in spirit to more than 120 members worldwide. Reflecting on Massignon’s writings before, during and after the establishment of the State of Israel in 1948 with his vision of peaceful coexistence and the sharing of life by all three Abrahamic faith traditions in the Holy Land has become a central concern for our prayer. Members of the Badaliya encouraged the community at St. Paul’s Catholic Church in Cambridge, Massachusetts to establish a Partner Parish in Beit Sahour, Palestine with the help of the Holy Land Christian Ecumenical Foundation in Bethesda, Maryland and Bethlehem, Palestine. Following in the spirit of Massignon’s own many spiritual pilgrimages to the Holy Land and his writings on Jerusalem and Nazareth our Holy Land pilgrimages have rewarded us all with new friendships across faith traditions, a new experience of our Christian faith tradition and first hand experience of the painful reality of life for our brothers and sisters, the “Living Stones” who guard our traditions in the Holy Land.

The inspiration of the Badaliya and its invitation to reflect deeply on the meaning of substitutionary prayer for believers today has led to the foundation of many communities dedicated to its vision of interfaith relations.

The Al-Khalil Community at the Monastery of Deir Mar Musa, Nebek, Syria

In 1984 a young Italian Jesuit Priest, Fr. Paolo Dall’Oglio, discovered an abandoned ancient 11th century Monastery that had originally been established in honor of a 6th century Ethiopian hermit named Saint Moses in the Syrian desert 80 kilometers North of Damascus. With the help of the Syrian government, the local church and volunteers from Syria and Europe the ancient frescoes have been restored and a contemplative community dedicated to interfaith relations has been established. The spirit of Louis Massignon’s Badaliya has been the foundation of the spirituality encouraged at Deir Mar Musa, from the daily rhythm of prayers in Arabic to welcoming the stranger and inviting the involvement of the local Muslim villagers who share in the daily life of the community. The title of one of Fr. Paolo’s books, Amoureux de l’Islam, Croyant en Jésus (Lover of Islam, Believer in Jesus) speaks for itself of the true witness to the spirit of Badaliya and the legacy of Louis Massignon alive in the world today.

Christian de Chergé and the Monks of Tibhirine

There is a list of many Christian souls who have been called to share life with their Muslim brothers and sisters and some, like the monks of Tibhirine whose story can be experienced in the recent film, “Of Gods and Men,” who have offered their lives. Christian de Chergé has been described as a Trappist monk whose Christian faith was enhanced and “converted” by his engagement with Islam. In a book dedicated to the spiritual writings of the Prior of the Monastery at Tibhirine (Ray, C. Christian de Chergé: une biographie spirituelle du prieur de Tibhinrine. Éditions Albin Michel, 2010). There is the true story of how Christian de Chergé came to understand the deepest meaning of Massignon’s substitutionary prayer, of Badaliya.

In 1959 while serving his obligatory service as an officer in the French military during the Algerian War for Independence from France, Christian was assigned to a rural Algerian community. There he became friends with an Algerian peasant and father of ten. Mohamad was a devout Muslim and the young Christian was profoundly moved by observing his friend’s response to the call to prayer five times a day. Despite their very different experiences of the colonial occupation in Algeria, they both recognized that they belonged to the same human family in the eyes of God. Mohamad’s loyalty to his friendship with Christian de Chergé caused him to step in to protect his friend when he was attacked by members of a local militia and to try to prevent further dispute. The next day Mohamad was found assassinated beside a well. It took many years for Christian de Chergé to process this experience but it became a foundational one for the rest of his spiritual life. Only in 1972, in front of his brothers in Tibhirine, was Christian finally able to tell the story of Mohamad’s sacrifice for him. “Through the blood of this friend, assassinated for having not wished to make a pact with hatred, I knew that my call to follow Christ must find a way to live itself out, sooner or later, in the same country where I had been given this proof of the greatest love” (p. 71).

From then on there was no doubt in Christian’s mind that Mohamad had mysteriously entered into the communion of saints that knows no religious boundaries. He wrote:

“I know at least one beloved brother, a committed Muslim, who gave his life out of love for another, concretely through the spilling of his blood. An unimpeachable testimony that I welcome as an extraordinary opportunity.” (p.71)

The Qur’an says: “The one who saves one single person is considered as if he had saved everyone.” (5:32)

Christan de Chergé was dedicated to the Muslim community among whom he lived and served for many years. At the moment of the abduction of seven of the monks from the Monastery in Algeria there was a group from a Muslim Sufi Order on their annual visit to an interfaith gathering to share life and pray with the brothers.

Christian de Chergé was a true follower of the spiritual legacies of both Charles de Foucauld and Louis Massignon and lived the call to Badaliya, substitutionary prayer, all the way to the ultimate sacrifice of his own life.

The Seven Sleepers: Muslim and Christian shared pilgrimage

In 1954 Louis Massignon discovered a chapel in the small hamlet of Vieux Marché, Brittany in France, dedicated to Seven Christian Saints called La Chapelle des Sept Dormants. When he realized that the ancient Breton story of the seven saints corresponded directly to the 18th Sura of this same story of resurrection in the Qur’an and to the site of the seven sleepers tomb in Ephesus, Turkey, he approached the local Bishop with the request to expand the already existing annual pilgrimage in Vieux Marché to include both Muslims and Christians and prayers from both traditions. This Annual pilgrimage continues to take place every summer in July near to the Feast of Mary Magdalene, the first to witness to the Resurrection of Our Lord, Jesus Christ and attracts pilgrims from all over the world.

It is clear from Louis Massignon’s letters to members of the Badaliya from 1947 to 1962 that delving ever deeper into the meaning of substitutionary prayer led Massignon himself to greater and greater involvement with the social justice issues of his time, to volunteering in the French prisons to educate Algerian freedom fighters during the Algerian war for Independence in the late 1950’s and into the 1960’s, to speaking publically and standing on the side of the disenfranchised, the refugees and displaced, especially the Palestinians during and after the establishment of the current State of Israel, while remaining faithful to his friendships with his Jewish and Israeli colleagues. The legacy of Louis Massignon continues to lead many seekers of the Divine toward greater love of others of all ethnic and faith traditions. His life and work point us always in the direction of the Holy in all traditions and his lifetime of research and revision of his four volume Opus Magnus, The Passion of al-Hallaj remains a shining example of this devout Christian’s dedication to the eternal message of a great Muslim lover of the Divine.

A member of the Board of Directors of L’Association des Amis de Louis Massignon in Paris, Dorothy C. Buck is a licensed mental health practitioner and Pastoral Counselor in Somerville, MA she continues to give lectures and publish articles and books on spirituality and interreligious dialogue.

Hear the children crying!
Hear the children helpless!
Hear the children calling!
Nne m o…, Iya mi o mama o!

How I wish the killers would have the human heart to hear this cry! Human flesh has become so cheap and the dignity of the human person no longer counts for those who kill themselves in order to kill a multitude. Suicide bombing is the highest form of terrorism in the world. Religion – the comfort and refuge of God’s children – has become a night mare because of religious fanatics. I think that the time is now ripe for Christians and Muslims to deliver Christianity and Islam if we really believe that no religion preaches violence! The time has come for everybody who cares about life to drop prejudice, preconceptions and suspicion to face the fact that we must now come out voluntarily to work for peace. A bomb that explodes in public does not know who is a Christian and who is a Muslim. We have the basis and support to do this. Do we not all profess faith in one and the same God?

Abraham our Father in Faith

The Jews, Christians, and Muslims lay claim to Abraham as a common father of faith. Like the Jews, Arabs regard themselves as a Semitic people. Some Christian and Muslim scholars trace the descendants of Shem to Abraham. Their claim is based on the submission of Abraham in the supreme test, the attempted sacrifice of his son described in the Qur’an by the verb aslama that appears to have provided Islam with its name “peace and salutation to Abraham!” (Qur’an, Saffat 109).

Some other scholars claimed that before the birth of Isaac, Hagar, an Egyptian girl had a child, Ismail, for Abraham (Genesis 16). Later Sarah gave birth to Isaac (Genesis 21:1-7). At the order of Sarah, Abraham sent away Hagar and her son Ishmael. The Bible says that Hagar wandered off into the wilderness of Beersheba (Genesis 21:15). “God was with the boy. He grew up and made his home in the wilderness, and he became a bowman” (Genesis 21:20). But the Qur’an says that Abraham brought Hagar with Ismail to Mecca. His descendants grew up in Arabia as Muslims whereas those of Isaac, who remained in Palestine, are Jews (Baqara 125-129, An’am 86, Maryam 54-55, and Anbiya 85).

If the Christians and Muslims really have a common origin, it means that they have every reason to dialogue in love and live together in peace and unity as a family. The contrary will make Abraham sad and weep in heaven. This belief in the one family of Abraham must have enabled the Abyssinian Monks and the Christians welcome, accommodate, and protect Prophet Muhammad’s (peace be upon him) followers. Abdullah Yusuf ‘Ali reports that the Holy Prophet Muhammad (SAW) encountered the Abyssinian and Nestorian monks. This encounter must have given rise to some dialogue of life and dialogue of theological exchange. In the introduction to the Holy Qur’an C.23, he says: “When he went in a trade caravan with Abu Talib to Syria, his tender soul marked inwardly how Allah did speak in the wide expanse of deserts…. Commenting on this Abdullah says that it was on such visits that he met and conversed with Nestorian Christian monks like Bahirah who were quick to recognize his spiritual worth.” The Holy Prophet while on a caravan trip with Khadija also encountered the Abyssinian monks who were very hospitable to them.

Abdullah says that after the reception of the first message “Iqra” (Cf. Al ‘Alaq 96) Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) confided in Khadija. “She went and consulted her cousin Waraqah, a devout worshipper of Allah in the faith of Christ.” The Holy Qur’an therefore provides room for inter-religious and inter-faith dialogue in the promotion of human value and peaceful co-existence.

This encounter of Prophet Muhammad with the Christians of Abyssinia is a strong basis for dialogue between the Christians and the Muslims in Nigeria. The Muslim who follows the teaching of Islam to surrender to the will of Allah and the Christian who is willing to follow Jesus by bearing any suffering patiently as a meeting point in the dialogue of life. The Christian must be willing to carry the Cross and tolerate others no matter their color, race, tribe or religion. The Christian must be prepared to work for peace as preached by Jesus Christ. “Blessed are the peacemakers, they shall be called children of God” (Matthew 5:7).

Conclusion

Religious leaders, what answer do you have to give to those who ask about the essence of religion if one cannot feel safe in the house of worship? To what extent can you defend the view that no religion preaches violence? Is it not possible for the religious leaders to find out who these terrorists are and let them explain exactly what they need from the government? Can we really deliver religion from being used as garb for terrorist activities? There is no alternative to peace through dialogue. Let us make the world a better place to live in.

Rev. Omonokhua is the director of Mission and Dialogue, Catholic Secretariat of Nigeria.

Christian and Jewish scripture

Islamic theology is strictly monotheistic. Consequently, the Qur’an denies such Christian doctrines as the Trinity and the resurrection of Jesus, which can seem to suggest that God works in a partnership (Jacques 2004, 16). Yet Jesus is always honored in the Qur’an. He is referred to as a “sign” of mercy and an “example.” Nowhere is he or any other Prophet criticized (Jacques 2004, 16). Moses is also revered in the Qur’an, where he is referred to more than one hundred times (Khan 2001, 35.

The Qur’an does not claim to supersede the scriptures that came before it, but is understood to complete the revelations of the Prophets (Jacques 2004, 298). It is a culmination of the history of divine revelation, which includes stories from the Old and New Testaments such as the stories of Abraham, Moses, Noah, and Jesus. Sura 61:6 is an example of how the Qur’an affirms the validity of Jewish and Christian scriptures: “And when Jesus son of Mary said, ‘Children of Israel, I am indeed God’s messenger to you, confirming the Torah that has gone before me…’” (Murata and Chittick 1994, 165).

Qur’anic doctrine about the “People of the Book”

In the Qur’an, Jews, and Christians are referred to as Ahl al-kitab, meaning “the People of the Book.” The Qur’an makes distinctions between the People of the Book. Many verses acknowledge that there are both wrongdoers and righteous ones among them (Sarýtoprak 2000, 323).

Where the Qur’an criticizes the People of the Book, it generally makes clear that it is referring only to those who do not adhere to the message of the Prophets (tawhid) (Murata and Chittick, 1994, 170):

Those who persistently disbelieve from among the People of the Book and the polytheists would not abandon until there had come to them the Clear Evidence … Surely those who disbelieve from among the People of the Book and from among the polytheists will be in the fire of Hell a seed of which unbelief bears, abiding therein. (98:1, 6)

Some verses that criticize the People of the Book without making a distinction are open to various interpretations. For example, Sura 5:55 states: “Oh believers, take not Jews and Christians as friends; they’re friends of each other. Whoso of you makes them as friends is one of them.” Said Nursi suggests that the verse may refer to particular groups of Jews and Christians who committed treachery during the days of the Medina Charter. Nursi points out that at the time of the Prophet, people hated and loved each other solely on the basis of religion, so close relationships with non-Muslims were considered hypocritical (Sarýtoprak 327). As the basis for friendships has changed, hypocrisy in this respect is no longer an issue.

Another reason why such verses should be interpreted broadly rather than literally is because some of the words used in their original Arabic forms are ambiguous. In this verse, the word for friend (wali) can mean guardian. The sentence might mean that Muslims cannot make Jews or Christians their guardians. In some verses, the People of the Book are referred to as kafir, meaning either “one who denies the existence of God” or “one who denies the prophethood of Muhammad.” Non-Muslims are not necessarily kafirs in the first sense of the word (Sarýtoprak, 328).

The Qur’an commonly advocates tolerance, respect, and goodwill towards the People of the Book. For example, Sura 60:8 declares:

God does not forbid you, as regards those who do not make war against you on account of your Religion, nor drive you away from your homes, to be kindly to them, and act towards them with equity. God surely loves the scrupulously equitable.

In addition to advocating tolerance, the Qur’an praises the People of the Book. In Sura 21:7, they are referred to as “People of Knowledge” (ahl al-dhikr) (Sarýtoprak, 328) and verses 3:113-15 declare:

Yet, they are not all alike: among the People of the Book, there is an upright community, reciting God’s Revelations in the watches of the night and prostrating (themselves in worship). They believe in God and the Last Day, and enjoin and promote what is right and good, and forbid and try to prevent evil, and hasten to do good deeds, as if competing with one another. Those are of the righteous ones. Whatever good they do, they will never be denied the reward of it; and God has full knowledge of the God-revering, pious.

This sura provides an example of how the Qur’an recognizes that the People of the Book worship the same God as Muslims. This recognition of a common ground is repeated in other verses, such as 3:64, which commands:

Say (to them, O Messenger): “O People of the Book, come to a word common between us and you, that we worship none but God, and associate none as partner with Him, and that none of us take others for Lords, apart from God.”

Another implication in Sura 3:115 is that the People of the Book will be rewarded. A general theme in the Qur’an is that those People of the Book who accept tawhid will have salvation (Murata and Chittick, 168). For example, Sura 2:62 states:

Those who believe (Muslims), the Jews, the Christians, and the Sabaeans, whosoever believe in God and the Last Day and do good deeds, they shall have their reward from their Lord, shall have nothing to fear, nor shall they come to grief.

Tolerance in Practice

The Prophet Muhammad (peace and blessings be upon him) protected and defended the People of the Book. In the hadith by Al-Munawi, he is quoted as saying: “Who wrongs a Jew or Christian will have myself as his prosecutor on the day of Judgement.” In Al-Bayhaqi’s hadith he is quoted: “Whosoever persecuted a dhimmi [non-Muslim who paid a protection tax] or usurped his rights, or took work from him beyond his capacity, or took something from him without his permission, I shall be a complainant against him on the Day of Resurrection.” Al-Bukhari tells of how Muhammad would not exclude Jewish people when he visited the sick. On one occasion, when a Jewish funeral procession passed by him, he stood up out of respect, and when asked why, replied: “Is it not a human soul?”

The Prophet’s respect for the People of the Book was an example to others during his time. One of his companions, Hizam b. Hakim, reproached the Governor of Syria when he saw a group of group of Christians standing out in the hot sun as punishment for not paying their taxes.

Said Nursi also advocated tolerance, affirming that Muslims and non-Muslims are equal before Qur’anic law, and that people should be praised and loved based on their individual attributes (Sarýtoprak 326–327).

Dhimmi law and jizya

Soon after the Hijra (the migration of the Prophet to Medina), the Prophet signed a pact with the local tribes of Medina. Famously known as the Medina Charter, the Prophet aimed at generating a peaceful, pluralist society in this town, which was torn apart with decades-long civil strife and bloodshed. However, when this pact was violated by some Jewish tribes who supported the Meccans against Muslims, Jews were eventually driven out. Yet cooperation was renewed when the Prophet concluded a treaty with the Jews of Khaibar (Jacques 14–16).

Under an Islamic government, dhimmi law was developed in relations with the People of the Book which required them to pay a poll tax, or jizya, which is sanctioned in the Qur’an (9:29).

In exchange, Muslims were responsible for the protection of the People of the Book in their society. During the reign of the second Caliph, the Governor of Homs (in modern-day Syria) returned the poll tax to his Christian subjects because he realized he could not protect them against the Byzantine army (Jacques 14–16).

The policies surrounding jizya were relatively fair. Under a Muslim government, non-Muslims were not required to pay zakat (prescribed charity), which was a legal and religious requirement for Muslims. Furthermore, the poor, the blind, the elderly, the rescue workers at the houses of worship, women and children were all exempt from jizya. If it was not paid, the maximum punishment was imprisonment, and if a person died without having paid it, it could not become a debt transferred to his estate or heirs (Jacques 14–16).

Interaction between Muslims and the People of the Book

Muslims, Jews, and Christians socialized among one another regularly and rather freely in the Islamic Middle Ages, creating bonds (Cohen 2000, 39, 42). For example, they met in public baths, and business partnerships between Muslims and non-Muslims occurred despite disapproval of some authorities. Some Muslims even took part in Christian and Jewish religious celebrations. Jews and Christians had many ample opportunities in daily life “to cross barriers in the hierarchy of Islamic society” (Cohen 2000, 39). Dhimmis enjoyed acceptance in intellectual circles (majalis) and studied with Muslims at universities, particularly during the “renaissance of Islam” in cosmopolitan tenth-century Baghdad. Cohen states that “Jewish physicians were found in Arab society in numbers disproportionate to the Jewish presence in the population at large … They also formed part of the interdenominational circle of physicians working in state hospitals and adorning Muslim courts” (Cohen 2000, 42).

In the early Abbasid period, Muslims and Christian theologians frequently corresponded by sending letters to each other, or in debates. Although the dialogue was concerned with both parties trying to prove the superiority of their religion over the other, it was nevertheless constructive and meaningful (Sirry 2005, 365–73).

Life in Spain (al Andalus) between 711 and 1492 is a prime example of harmonious coexistence between Muslims, Jews, and Christians. Jews and Christians enjoyed participation in Arab cultural activities, such as poetry competitions and intellectual circles (Menocal 2002, 173–80).

In 1856, full egalitarian rights were given to all citizens of the Ottoman Empire. Citizens of any religion could be accepted into government service and enroll in military and state schools (Sarýtoprak, 322).

Restrictions in Muslim-Dhimmi Relations

In the fourteenth century, jurist Ibn Qayyim al-Jawziyya wrote an influential book compiling general Islamic laws for dhimmis: Ahkam ahl al-dhimma (The Laws pertaining to the Protected People) (Cohen 53). Among these, he states that Muslims may convey condolences to non-Muslims or congratulate them on marriage, birth or good health with the exception of occasions, which contradict Islamic tenets (Jacques 39).

In some domains, such as marriage and dining, Muslim interaction with the People of the book is given Qur’anic sanction.

This day (all) pure, wholesome things have been made lawful for you. And the food of those who were given the Book before is lawful for you, just as your food is lawful for them. And (lawful for you in marriage) are chaste women from among the believers, and from among those who were given the Book before, provided that you give them their bridal-due, taking them in honest wedlock, and not in debauchery, nor as secret love-companions. Whoever rejects faith, all his works are in vain, and in the Hereafter he will be among the losers. (5:5)

Sunni law permitted the eating of animals slaughtered by the People of the Book. Muslims could eat food provided by Jews as the Prophet Muhammad himself had done (Cohen 41). It was more problematic to eat in Christian homes, as pork might be served. However, Shia Islam rejected food prepared by dhimmis as unclean.

Sura 5:5 allows Muslim men to marry dhimmi women, not the other way around. This is to protect the woman’s rights, because the man might forcefully impose his religion on his Muslim wife (Cohen 41). If the wife of a Jewish or Christian couple converts to Islam, the marriage becomes invalid and from then on she may only marry Muslim men (Spectorsky 2000, 274). A Muslim husband is required to permit his non-Muslim wife to observe her religious rituals in the household and to read her own scriptures, and not encourage her to break rituals such as fasting and (for Jews) keeping the Sabbath (Cohen 41).

Conclusion

In studying the Qur’an, it is evident that Islam is inherently tolerant of Judaism and Christianity. It requires Muslims to respect the validity of the Scriptures of the People of the Book, and their right to be treated with kindness. The practice of the Prophet is consistent with this view as is the example of many influential Muslims throughout history, such as Said Nursi and Rumi. In today’s world of pluralism and multiculturalism, understanding is essential for adherents of different religions to coexist in peace and harmony. Muslims, Jews, and Christians must understand the tolerant message of Islam and the great Muslim role models. Exclusive focus on seemingly negative Qur’anic verses such as 5:55, without understanding the context, can lead to fear and hatred. They must embrace their similarities to see that they are brethren, and embrace their differences as a chance for learning. Amidst the twentieth and twenty-first century conflicts between the Islamic World and the West, one might see peaceful coexistence between religious groups as idealistic. But one needs only to look at the experience of Jews and Christians under Islamic rule in the Middle Ages to see that religious pluralism is possible.

References

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• Cohen, M.R. 1994. Under Crescent and Cross: The Jews in the Middle Ages. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press.
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• Lewis, B. 1984. The Jews and Islam. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press.
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• Murata, S., and W.C. Chittick. 1994. The Vision of Islam. New York: Paragon House.
• Sarýtoprak, Z. 2000. “Said Nursi’s Teachings on the People of the Book: A Case Study of Islamic Social Policy in the Early Twentieth Century.” Islam and Christian-Muslim Relations 11: 321–32.
• Sirry, M.A. 2005. “Early Muslim-Christian Dialogue: A Closer Look at Major Themes of the Theological Encounter.” Islam and Christian-Muslim Relations Vol. 16: 361–76.
• Spectorsky, S. 2000. “Problems of Intermarriage in Early fiqh Texts.” In Judaism and Islam: Boundaries, Communication and Interaction: Essays in Honor of William M. Brinner. Edited by B.H. Hary, J.L. Hayes, and F. Astern. Brill’s Series in Jewish Studies 27. Leiden: Brill.