About 3500 years ago in Egypt, Moses began to preach the religion that calls for submission to God, which he inherited from his forefather Abraham. According to the belief in that era, the ruler was considered a son of God, even a god on earth.

The Pharaoh said (to his chiefs): “Let me kill Moses, and let him call upon his Lord! I fear lest he alter your religion (replacing it with his), or lest he provoke disorder in the land” (Mu’min 40:26). What is meant by “religion” as mentioned in the verse refers to the civilization, i.e. the overall social order, of that society. The pharaoh was rather concerned about his own reign, like many other tyrants, but he professed as if he was concerned about his people and that he wanted to get rid of Moses for their good.

The following verse expresses this fact: “They said: ‘These two men are surely sorcerers intent on driving you out of your land with their sorcery, and doing away with your exemplary way of life’” (Taha 20:63).

Then the Pharaoh increased his torment to the believers and closed up their temple. In that case, God commanded Moses and his brother to take their houses as places of worship (a center of learning) (10:87). The essential judgment on worship was to be observed in the temple, but the command to pray at home was a special judgment to be implemented during this period of torment.

We are currently facing another crisis, though entirely different from the persecution that Moses and his followers endured, that is requiring us to temporarily close our houses of worship and instead pray at home. In these days of Coronavirus, all faith communities, including Muslims, Jews, and Christians, abide by this special judgment. For Muslims even the congregational Friday Prayer, which all males without valid excuse must strictly attend, is suspended. Everybody prays at home instead for the same reason of protection from harm. Whether they observe prayers or not, most people are at an obligatory retreat.

From a believer’s perspective, these days are offering us some serious food for thought. Is Coronavirus on a mission sent by God to warn people who exceed in wrongdoing? Are we being told to come to our senses, to make up our minds, step back from wrong, act in accordance with our purpose of creation, not neglect our families for the sake of greedy pursuits, and live in a way to be eligible for eternal happiness?

Two thousand years ago, Jesus Christ, peace be upon him, taught his people about belief in God. He was able to preach for only a very short amount of time, only to be accepted by a limited number of people around him all of whom suffered and were exterminated under the cruel Roman Empire. Yet, his message was not silenced; by the third century after he was gone, a great majority of people ruled by Roman Empire accepted his invitation. Muslims believe Jesus Christ was ascended to the heavens to be sent back to complete his mission as a renovator of faith in God in the Latter Times in the way of Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon him, who, according to some Muslim scholars, is the “advocate” (Paraclete – or Parakletos, the Praised One) mentioned in John 14:16. It is believed that Jesus Christ will lead his followers – now dispersed in many denominations more so than any other tradition has [1] – and will unite them back in worship. Coronavirus has struck at a time that is most special to the Christian community, and thus giving them an opportunity to reflect on faith. It was the time of Lent, a six-week period which ended on April 11. Observing Christians have sought closeness to God by observing different forms of worship such as fasting, praying, and supporting the needy while hoping to be more receptive to the call of revival by COVID-19. Taking this opportunity, it is my hope that Christians, who are adorned with these lofty qualities, had a happy Easter holiday, which was on April 12 this year. I also celebrate the Passover holiday of the Jewish community, which was on April 8.

As a matter of fact, even the timing of this global retreat is worthy of attention; similar to Christian Lent and Easter, Muslims are in the midst of the holy three months of Rajab, Shaban, and Ramadan, while the Jewish community have been celebrating Passover within these days of retreat. Surely the followers of other traditions such as Buddhism and Hinduism will evaluate this period in meaningful retrospect. The indigenous people of Canada pray as follows:

 “O our exalted Creator! We wish you to be with us. We wish you to help our diseased ones and our friends who are far away. When we lose hope, please remind us to be thankful for the blessings of water which gives life and the earth which bears us. O God, please help us know that all people are our relatives!”

Muslims have not undergone as huge a diversification as has been the case in Christianity in terms of the essentials of faith. However, many Muslim nations have failed to duly understand the true message of the religion, could not interpret its commandments, nor could they practice it properly. As those in power did not govern them well for a very long time, many countries of the Muslim world have lagged behind with regards to civilization, ethics, culture, and public administration. In a way, they have alienated themselves to the essence of their own values. Interestingly, social studies indices that conduct research on which countries perform better on establishing institutions that reflect Islamic values and principles, there is not a single Muslim country among the first thirty [2]. There are countries like Ireland, Finland, Sweden, Denmark, New Zealand, and Canada among the first ten. The brilliant face of Islam entered a period of eclipse in the Muslim world, and then the eclipse got to be constant. Accordingly, Corona is virtually making the following call to Muslims: “You did not thoroughly understand and practice religion God revealed to you by means of His Messenger. Come back home, you need a revival. Make up your mind to make wise use of this opportunity. Evaluate the oncoming opportunity of Ramadan well in your home. Try to make up for things you neglected for years. Make self-criticism, come to grips with yourself! Become repentant and ask forgiveness!”

May this holy Ramadan, the month of the Holy Qur’an, be a means of God’s good pleasure and happiness for all Muslims.

With Coronavirus, and for that matter with all such tribulations, perhaps God Almighty makes us realize that He has not ceased to care for the humanity He created: “Shall We take away this Reminder from you (and leave you to your own devices), because you are a people wasteful (of your God-given faculties and committing excesses)?” (Zukhruf 43:5). Thus, He gives an opportunity to people before the Day of Judgment to repent and experience a “revival” now, so that we can be absolved “there.”

Notes

1. De Glasenapp. 1954. Les cinq grandes religions, Paris, Payot, 1954, p. 415.
2. http://islamicity-index.org/wp

As a rabbi and professor of rabbinic literature, I am naturally drawn to interpreting texts. The best moments are when these texts come alive and inform my life (inshallah). I have long been intrigued by an ancient text attributed to a pre-rabbinic figure from the first century BCE (Before the Common Era – rabbis did not emerge until after the destruction of the Jerusalem Temple in 70 CE). The text reads:

Joshua ben Perahia said, “Find a teacher for yourself, and acquire a colleague, judge every person favorably” (Mishnah Pirke Avot 1:6).

This triplet of good advice requires some explanation. Find (or “make,” which is closer to the Hebrew original) a teacher for yourself might also be translated that you should make someone your “master.” In the Hebrew text the word for teacher is Rav which can mean master, as well as being the root of the word rabbi. In other words, choose a rabbi to study with and to follow.

Next, we are taught to acquire a colleague. Most likely this means someone to study with, but it also can mean someone who you can share a meal with (that is to say, you trust that his food is kosher or halal). In general, it is a blessing to have good colleagues.

The final piece of advice, while commendable, seems on the surface to be disconnected: Judge everyone favorably. Might it refer to choosing a teacher or your study-buddy?

I will come back to what I think this text means, but first, I want to consider a text from the Torah, which commands: Love your neighbor as yourself (Lev 19:18). This text, too, seems straightforward, until we wonder how do we “love” on command? Some commentators assume this means that you would care about your neighbor’s finances as you would your own. A small minority of others, I am embarrassed to say, have construed this to mean that you need only love your neighbor who is like yourself. This implies that the commandment is limited to only loving other Jews!

Indeed, there is a rabbinic text from the second century that might be construed precisely this way – it is alarming:

In the Mishnah (Yoma 8:7) we read about a case where a wall falls upon someone on Shabbat. Now uncovering a pile of rubble is a forbidden labor on the Sabbath. But the Mishnah of the second century CE seems to make an exception: If there is doubt whether he was there or not there, if there is doubt whether he was alive or dead, if there were doubt whether he was a Jew or a non-Jew – then one removes the rubble.

The text is clear that to save a Jewish life, one may violate Shabbat, as saving a life takes precedence over all other commandments. But we must ask: whose life? Does this only apply, God forbid, to saving a Jew? This one of those famous “difficult texts” that we stumble over in interfaith dialogue. When we compare “our best” to “their worst” during dialogues, such difficult texts are stumbling blocks. We all have such texts. And until we learn to dialogue by proudly sharing our best with their best, we will stumble.

My teacher 45 years ago was a man in his eighties, Rabbi Saul Lieberman. He was widely regarded as the foremost authority on the Talmud in his generation. He once told me the story about taking a Shabbat stroll with a colleague from Columbia University, Prof. Morton Smith. Now it happens that Morton, although many years my elder, was my teacher but also my colleague and my friend. He had been ordained an Episcopal priest early in his career, and he loved to tweak the supercilious pieties of religion. Morton was also an expert in rabbinic literature. As the story goes, Morton Smith and Rabbi Lieberman walked past a building site on Broadway when Morton asked my rabbi, “Prof. Lieberman, if that wall fell on me now during the Sabbath, would you save me?”

On the face of it, this was a serious challenge to what might have been understood as the law of the Mishnah. A strict reading might have required Prof. Smith’s body to remain under the rubble until Shabbat ended. But Prof. Lieberman replied in an instant, “Why Morton, of course I would save you! And then, I would go home, consult my tomes of Jewish law, and find the correct reason for having done so.”

Actually, it would not have been very hard to find a legal authority. As we mentioned above, saving a life certainly would take priority over Sabbath law. That’s what the Mishnah is trying to teach us. But would it apply to saving a non-Jew? Both Lieberman and Smith knew perfectly well that the Torah explicitly teaches, You shall not oppress the stranger. You must know the heart of the stranger, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt (Exodus 23:9). And if that wasn’t clear enough, the Torah commands, You shall love the stranger, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt (Deut 10:19).

Indeed, the Mishnah and other rabbinic literature bend over backward to assure that Jews have good relations with their non-Jewish neighbors (the word used is Shalom) and require that Jews greet non-Jews, care for their poor, mourn and bury their dead, offer condolences, care for their animals, midwife their births, heal their sick, much as would be done for other Jews.

What I learn from the story of my teacher Rabbi Lieberman and my colleague and teacher Prof. Smith is that teachers and colleagues who are NOT Jewish require us to confront, and solve, our tradition’s difficult texts. Interaction with the other, collegiality, even friendship, to say the least of discipleship, require us to love one another as we would ourselves.

My teacher of New Testament, Father Raymond Brown, offered an example from the Catholic tradition. Prof. Brown took scrupulous care in carefully teaching Gospel texts, lest other priests or their parishioners might learn anti-Semitism from those ancient texts. Christianity had a long and sorry history of enmity towards the Jews. Anti-Semitism had been the norm for almost 2,000 years. But in the aftermath of the Holocaust, Christian teaching radically changed. As Pope Francis said in March, 2019, “I stress that for a Christian any form of anti-Semitism is a rejection of one’s own origins, a complete contradiction.”

We take care to find the right teachers. I am blessed to have such teachers and to have made good colleagues in the Muslim world, as well. This is not surprising as the Holy Qur’an teaches,

O mankind! We created you from a single (pair) of a male and a female, and made you into nations and tribes, that ye may know each other. Verily the most honored of you in the sight of Allah is the most righteous of you (Qur’an 49:13, after Yusuf Ali).

In the Hadith of al-Nawawi (Forty Hadith, no. 15): we learn that on the authority of Abu Hurayrah (may Allah be pleased with him), the Messenger of Allah (peace and blessings of Allah be upon him) said: “Whoever believes in Allah and the Last Day should speak good things or keep silent. Whoever believes in Allah and the Last Day should be generous to his neighbor. Whoever believes in Allah and the Last Day should be courteous and generous to his [travelling] visitor.” This is reported in Bukhari and Muslim.

In other words, this Hadith seems to teach a tradition similar to that of the Torah and the rabbis. Further, al Nawawi teaches (ibid. no. 13): on the authority of Abi Hamza Anas bin Malik, the servant of the messenger of Allah (peace and blessings of Allah be upon him) from the prophet (peace and blessings of Allah be upon him) who said: “None of you [truly] believes until he loves for his brother what he loves for himself. ” This is also reported in Bukhari and Muslim.

These Hadith traditions emphasize that what is true for Jews is true for Muslims. We must learn to love one another and want what is best for our brothers and sisters of the other religion, much as we would want for ourselves.

Now we know that despite these teachings, there are Jews who hate Muslims and Muslims who revile Jews. Thank God / Al hamdulillah, that we have teachers who clearly teach against this tendency. Our master, Hocaefendi Fethullah Gülen stated:

“A crucial step in healing the sick mindset that leads individuals to kill people out of hatred or other reasons is for every individual to acknowledge the dignity of every human being, to respect them as a work of art that was created by God and to inculcate this perspective in the minds of our youth.”

If we all come from our common ancestors Adam and Eve, Hocaefendi Gülen seems to say to us, then every person shares the same human dignity. No one can say, “My ancestry is better than yours.”

A couple of months ago, I had the wonderful privilege of meeting with Hocaefendi Gülen at his home in rural Pennsylvania. We drove there from New York City, but were warned that Hocaefendi was tired and might not spend more than a few minutes greeting us. As it turned out, we were honored to share an hour of discussion with our teacher. By the end of the meeting, I had found for myself another “rabbi.” I was thrilled to meet this revered leader, a man near in age to my rabbis of old. But I was utterly astounded by the act of humility with which he welcomed me. Hocaefendi Gülen rose from his chair and said, “Rabbi, please sit here in my place.” Had I traveled hours only to experience his hospitality and humility, it would have been a lesson well learned.

But I was privileged to engage further in a wide-ranging conversation on how we might confront anti-Semitism and Islamophobia. As with all good teachers, the conversation and Hocaefendi’s questions have continued to turn over in my mind since that extraordinary meeting.

What can we do to better relations between Muslims and Jews? Here are some suggestions I have learned in my nearly three decades of Jewish-Muslim dialogue.

First, as the Holy Qur’an teaches, we should meet and “know one another.” A good example of how this is accomplished is through the organization the Sisterhood of Salaam / Shalom (https://sosspeace.org/ ). Or we can arrange visits between Mosque and Synagogue. (see http://mideastweb.org/muslim-sermon_cg.htm ). We can celebrate our festivals together (see http://nyc.muslimjewishsolidarity.org/). Here, the Hizmet movement has excelled in arranging interfaith Iftar dinners during the Holy month of Ramadan (e.g https://hizmetnews.com/24889/interfaith-ramadan-iftar-dinner-held-in-montville/#.Xg9tJLpOmEc ).
 
We can also study to learn about one another. I recommend a book jointly published by the Jewish Theological Seminary and the Islamic Society of North America: Sharing the Well: A Resource Guide to Jewish-Muslim Relations (www.jtsa.edu/sharingthewell ). And, of course, we must protect one another and fight Islamophobia and anti-Semitism by standing together SHOULDER TO SHOULDER (https://www.shouldertoshouldercampaign.org/ ).  Both the Jewish and Muslim traditions demand that we work for social justice and righteousness (e.g. feeding the hungry: https://www.denverpost.com/2012/11/18/muslims-jews-gather-at-denver-mosque-to-help-feed-the-hungry/ ).

Now that I have shared what I learned from loving my neighbor, the non-Jewish other, the Christian or the Muslim, I have a new understanding of the text I quoted at the outset of this article.

Joshua ben Perahia said, “Find a teacher for yourself, and acquire a colleague, so that you will learn from them to judge every person favorably” (Pirke Avot 1:6).

Rabbi Burton L. Visotzky
Director, Milstein Center for Interreligious Dialogue Jewish Theological Seminary, New York

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.

December 2, 2015. A mass shooting in San Bernardino, California, following a devastating attack in Paris, France. Anti-Muslim rhetoric mushrooms, but how can I, one person, respond?

December 6, 2015. A hastily arranged interfaith service at Temple Beth Or, Washington Township, New Jersey, is attended by an overflow crowd of almost 400 people. The clergy, representing 18 congregations of the three Abrahamic faiths, walk to their seats as the Woodie Guthrie song, “This Land Is Your Land” is sung. The service gets underway with a call to prayer by a member of the Elzahara Islamic Center of Midland Park, New Jersey, and continues with additional prayers from each of the clergy. One priest from a Catholic Church in Ridgewood, New Jersey, ascends to the podium and asks everyone to take 15 minutes, introduce themselves to someone they don’t know, and “Pass the Peace.” This 15-minute interval turns into a seminal moment for me as “the other” that surrounds me becomes “the individual” – the mother, the student, the neighbor, each concerned about the same issues as I am.

This evening had a profound impact on me, and I still think of it often. It spurred me to approach my Jewish synagogue community and invite them to engage in an outreach program with representatives of the Muslim community. I had no illusions that this would solve the world’s problems, but I hoped it might be a spark to lift a veil in my tiny little corner of New Jersey. And thus began an ongoing journey to take the hand of our Muslim neighbors and turn the unknown and the different into the familiar and the friendly.

Over the ensuing years we have gathered together for various programs. We started with a Friendship Circle to introduce ourselves to one another, watched a documentary movie, BESA – The Promise, and subsequently The Turkish Passport, and discussed what we saw and heard. We invited our Muslim friends to participate in some of our synagogue services, some interfaith and some not. During one Sunday morning Minyan service, two central Jewish life cycle events took place – a baby naming for a newborn girl, and a 13-year-old leading the service one week before his Bar Mitzvah. Questions were casually asked and answered over our bagel breakfast (accompanied by both rugalach and baklava!). This turned into a tour of our sanctuary, led by our Rabbi and accompanied by a number of congregants. The Rabbi took the Torah scroll from the ark so it could be seen up close by everyone. She opened it and chanted that week’s Torah portion, which just happened to be about Hagar and Ishmael! The Rabbi along with our members explained the meaning of the various symbols around the sanctuary – how our prayer books are in both Hebrew and English, what the threads and knots (tzizit) of our prayer shawls represent, why only some of our memorial board lights were lit, etc. The otherness melted away as we engaged one another in vibrant conversation and dialogue.

One of the most moving interactions we experienced was when one of our members, a child survivor of Auschwitz and a longtime Hebrew school teacher, told her emotional story to a Muslim teen group, which left everyone with tears in their eyes. This included a question and answer session that touched everyone who participated. Our membership was invited to an Iftar dinner that year, during which we came to understand the purpose and meaning of the daytime fasting. We were recently invited to visit a local mosque, which was the first time any of us had stepped inside one. We had so many questions, and they were answered beautifully and passionately. We all sat, shoeless, in a circle, and those of us who are Jewish nodded our heads as the number of parallels between our faith practices became apparent. During Ramadan this year, our synagogue hosted an Iftar dinner. Kosher food was graciously brought into our kitchen, and three very dedicated Muslim volunteers spent several hours preparing traditional recipes for our dinner as we chatted and enjoyed each other’s company.

One by one by one, foundational connections have been made between our Jewish congregants and our Muslims friends. We have learned so much about one another: we have talked about our families, showed each other pictures of our children’s weddings, shared our families’ immigration experiences, exchanged phone numbers, and promised to see each other again soon.

The world is a complicated place, and there are no easy answers to the issues that confront us. But we each have the power to step outside our comfort zone, and just decide to take that first leap of faith. The opportunities to engage with one another in a meaningful way are all around us, and the rewards far outweigh the effort. Not only do we reap the benefits ourselves, but we have the potential opportunity to “pay it forward” by sharing our stories of these meaningful and memorable interactions, and maybe, just maybe, inspiring someone else to do the same!

As Jews, one of our overriding objectives is to participate in what is called “Tikkun Olam – Repairing the World.” This implies that while the world is inherently good, there is always room for us to improve it, and I would like to believe that I have contributed, in whatever small way, towards that end. In a world that undoubtedly is in need of a great deal of repair, please join in by taking that first small step alongside me and let us walk together.

The message of the Holy Qur’an is believed to be relevant for all Muslims, including those who lived when it was first revealed (between 610 and 632) and those who will come until the end of time. Based on the incidents faced by Muslims over 23 years during the time of revelation and the stories of former nations, the Qur’an provides guidelines in the form of commandments, prohibitions, and good advice, which are simultaneously incident-specific and universally relevant, dynamically forced and firmly static.

The first collocutors of this Divine Address were fortunate to be able to perceive the Divine Intention without any synthetic interpretation and commentary; and whenever they needed any further explanation, they were guided by Prophet Muhammad himself, peace be upon him. Subsequent generations could engage in that endeavor only by accurately settling the association between facts and norms. The Prophet is the Final Messenger and the Holy Qur’an is the Final Divine Message and Scripture; thus Divine Messages that are believed to be “universal,” “comprehensive,” and “meta-historical” could by no other means be discovered and implemented. Intellectual rigor was required.

The Companions, the successors of the Companions, and their immediate successors engaged in an intensive intellectual endeavor, right after the Prophet passed away. While usul sciences set the methodology for their work, disciplines like Islamic jurisprudence (fiqh), Islamic theology (kalam), Islamic tradition (hadith), and Islamic exegesis (tafsir) reveal the outcomes of these methodical studies. Studies on the biography of the Prophet (seerah), military chronicles (maghazi), and the history of Islam (tarikh) also provided authentic or inauthentic resources to these disciplines.

These activities lost verve with time. Seeking Divine purpose by preserving the constants as they initially were and developing theoretical interpretations and practical transformations according to the ever-changing and evolving social, political, economic, moral, legal, military, etc. circumstances, have not always been possible. Social changes require dynamism, for dynamism – not inertia – is the nature of things and life. For many Muslim societies, a social life that remained frozen as exactly as it was in the time of the Prophet was one of the problems. Another problem was considering the surface meanings of the Qur’anic verses and the Hadith enough as solutions for real social problems.

This frozen social structure that sustained during the codification (tadwin) period affected Muslim viewpoints of the Qur’an and the Hadith, as well as their methodology of knowledge. Principles such as “the universality of the Qur’an,” or tenets like “Acting on the text is better than abandoning it,” “The particular cause of any Qur’anic revelation (asbab al-nuzul) does not mean its judgment does not have any universal validity,” and “Independent reasoning (ijtihad) cannot be exercised when there is explicit statement,” formed the keystones of knowledge production across many centuries. I believe this is a very important matter that needs to be covered in a separate article.

The verses of the Holy Qur’an are not detached from the social realities experienced between 610 and 632 in Mecca and Medina. In the words of Nasr Hamid, a creative and prolific dialogue existed between the Divine Intention and the first addressees of the Qur’an. Severing this correlative link between God and the community of revelation is the foremost reason for triggering what may be called the alienation from the Qur’an.

The first condition for accurately understanding the Divine Intention is knowing what the first addressees of the Qur’an had understood of and practiced from those verses during the course of revelation. Attempting to understand “what the Qur’an tries to tell” without knowing “what the Qur’an tells” does not lead to accurate results. On the contrary, such an attempt may turn out to be the first step taken toward disastrous results such as making God speak for one’s own pleasure and making the Qur’an say whatever one wants it to say.

Browsing the Qur’an from the perspective of “creative and prolific dialogue,” there are pages of narrations about events of the time. Among these events were, but not limited to, the battles of Badr, Uhud, and Khandaq, the Treaty of Hudaybiyyah, the conquest of Mecca, the Tabuk and Mu’tah campaigns, the codes of conduct toward prisoners of war, how the daily prayers are to be performed in the event of war, etc. There are verses that cover the dispute between Khawla bint Tha’labah and her husband Aws ibn Samit and how God adjudicated that dispute conclusively. Other narrations in the Qur’an include Zayd ibn Harithah’s divorcing his wife Zainab and her subsequent marriage to the Prophet, the impending fate of Abu Lahab and his wife Umm Jamil due to their persecution of the Prophet, the funeral prayer of Abdullah ibn Ubayy ibn Salul, and tens or hundreds of events such as these. All of these point at the correlative relationship between God and society. Consequently, it may be said that it is impossible to think about the Holy Qur’an as detached from the social incidents experienced during the course of its revelation.

Jihad

The same applies to the Qur’anic verses about concepts like jihad (endeavor), qatl (killing), and qital (warfare) – generally, the verses about military jihad. Each of these verses was revealed independently as related to particular incidents and expressed, in a crystal-clear style, how Muslims should react to incidents; in other words, the Qur’an produced tangible solutions to tangible problems. For instance, when looked at from the perspective which we attempt to illustrate, it is seen that the verses “(While at war) kill them wherever you come upon them, and drive them out from where they drove you out (thus recovering your lands from their usurpation). (Though killing is something you feel aversion to,) disorder (rooted in rebellion against God and recognizing no laws) is worse than killing”; and “(But if they persist in causing disorder, continue to) fight against them until there is no longer disorder rooted in rebellion against God, and the religion (the right for worship and the authority to order the way of life is recognized) for God.” (2/191 and 193) are from the roadmap detailed by God for Muslims to solve their problems with the polytheists of Mecca. However, many adopt a universal, atomic, or overgeneralizing approach, and these verses are discriminatorily interpreted as proof that Islam is “a religion of violence.”

These verses, from Surah al-Baqarah, were not revealed separately and at different times, but within a bundle of six verses revealed before the “Compensatory Minor Pilgrimage,” meant to be performed a year after the Treaty of Hudaybiyyah. The cause of revelation was to teach Muslims how to respond should the polytheists of Mecca – who a year earlier had violated the prohibitions for the forbidden months – violate the Treaty once again and wage war against the Muslims. Therefore, an accurate interpretation of these verses is possible by understanding “what God says” before “what God means to say” and handling this bundle of verses while considering the cause of revelation as a whole.

Scholars must jointly deliberate on the cause of revelation, analyze the links within the verse and with other verses, take into consideration the holism of the Qur’an, and social, economic, military, cultural, and religious conditions at the time. All of this is necessary contextual information. When taking these factors into account, it is clear that Islam is not a religion of violence or war, as claimed by some orientalists. This approach would also falsify the argument that considers the warfare as essential and peace as secondary in Islam, as some so-called Muslim scholars purport. These are deeply troubled arguments that are seriously radicalized and ethically flawed.

Yet, it is upsetting that there were and are groups that define themselves as Muslims and reach such conclusions. ISIL, Boko Haram, Al-Qaeda, etc. are violent groups that have adopted methods exploiting the Holy Qur’an, severing the Qur’anic verses from their contexts and cherry-picking concepts to legitimize their defective approaches. Having been engaged in such violent exploits, they generated a theology, and later laws, from their political ideology. Unfortunately, while they perpetrate heinous crimes, they forget the Qur’anic verses which expound that enmity is to be shown to oppressors only, not to others (2:193); belief is a personal choice and what falls on Muslims is only advice (18:29; 49:14); that there is no coercion in religion (2:256); and that hatred and anger harbored against non-combatant unbelievers should not prevent believers from doing good to them (60:8; 5:2). They disregard the practices of the Prophet and accepted them as overruled, such as the Charter of Medina, the Treaty of Hudaybiyyah, the general amnesty during the Conquest of Mecca, and the prohibition on the killing of women, children, the old and the men of religion even on the battlefield.

When trying to understand the true meaning of Qur’anic verses, it is important to delineate the line between the fact and the norm, between realpolitik and idealism. While facts or realpolitik is the context for which the Qur’anic verses bring tangible solutions to the incidents experienced during the course of revelation, idealistic perspective refers to the values and principles that need to be obtained from a holistic look toward the Qur’an, including the jihad verses. “Kill them wherever you find them,” in Baqara 191, (“them” referring to the aggressive polytheists of Mecca) indicates realpolitik circumstances of revelation. “Disorder (i.e. oppressing and torturing people because of their faith) is worse than killing,” indicates idealism and stipulates freedom of belief and conscience.

Concepts introduced by the Qur’an

During its course of revelation, the Qur’an did not only use the established concepts of the contemporary society, but introduced its own concepts as well. The concept of jihad is in the second category. Other concepts such as zihar, nikah, and talaq (concepts about marriage and divorce), which are mentioned in the Qur’an, were already in the lexicon of the society. However, the concept of jihad has gone through sharp semantic shifts and variations over the fifteen centuries since the time of revelation, and especially after the freedom movements in Muslim countries during the nineteenth century for independence from colonialism. This shift moved further from the Qur’anic foundations due to the works of orientalists; media outlets thriving on an anti-Islamic furor; and persecution of Muslim minorities. The weakness of Muslim states, authoritarian regimes, distribution of oil revenue, economic crises, and a large youthful population that cannot be easily brought under control given current circumstances are other major reasons that have led to the misuse of the concept of jihad. The idea has also been exploited by numerous radical-minded Muslim individuals, groups, and organizations. Concepts are like living organisms. The meanings encompassed by them contract, expand, change, and transform according to experienced realities. Nowadays, it is incumbent on Muslims to revert this concept to its original state by placing it back on the Qur’anic foundations in theory and practice.

Consequently, I think neither the battle cry “Islam is a religion of war” nor the slogan – yes, I term it a slogan – “Islam is a religion of peace” are accurate. Indeed, I think such a reductionist and cliché discourse form a massive intellectual block, preventing a complete understanding of Islam as a religion. The jihad verses in the Qur’an seems to have received their share from this minimalism. A literalist approach to the Qur’anic verses addressing realpolitik conditions is an indication of adopting the Qur’an solely as a book of law or policy. Individuals having this viewpoint may exploit the Qur’an to have it speak to their desire. It is compulsory to make a distinction among the Ideal Islam experienced during the lifetime of the Prophet, the Scholarly Islam expressed theoretically in the course of the academic activities of scholars in subsequent years, and the Historical Islam that has been experienced by Muslims in various locations worldwide for the last fifteen centuries. The minimum condition to achieve this distinction is studying the Qur’anic verses vis-à-vis the circumstances and context behind their revelation and understanding what the Qur’anic verses really “say,” before going deeper into analyzing what they “mean to say.” Intra-textuality, inter-textuality, reason for revelation, holistic approach to the Qur’an, and contextual knowledge are key terms for reference in this regard.

Journey into Europe: Islam, Immigration and Identity explores the mighty continent of Europe by an academic whose origins lie in the Third World. Professor Akbar Ahmed, one of the renowned scholars of Islam, reverses the longstanding tradition of scholars from the Global North studying the Global South.

Professor Ahmed divides the book into three parts. Part I analyses the fundamental character of European society and its various identities; Part II dwells on the Muslim communities in Europe and elucidates their place on the continent; and Part III reflects on the major challenges the continent is facing and offers some incredibly prudent solutions to deal with them.

At the outset, the author juxtaposes the ideas of the twentieth century German sociologist, Max Weber, and those of the fourteenth century Arab sociologist, Ibn Khaldun, and critically examines European identity from their perspectives. He argues that Weber’s works, which evaluate societies on the parameters of modernity, fail to explain the recent developments in Europe, whereas Ibn Khaldun’s theories, which talk of tribal traditions and codes, perfectly sum up the state of affairs on the continent today.

Central to the analysis of Ibn Khaldun, the book highlights, was the nature of tribal society, which is defined through shared bloodlines and bound by what he called asabiyyah, or social cohesion. The book argues that the rise of right-wing politics across Europe is a sign of the re-emergence of the tribal nature of its society, which means that Ibn Khaldun provides the right framework for understanding the direction in which Europe is moving.

It highlights the predominance of the German culture and identity on the European continent and lucidly explains concepts such as Volk, Heimat, janteloven, and hygge that reflect what the author calls “Primordial Tribal Identity” among Germanic peoples. It is argued that these are the precise concepts that take predatory forms and target minorities when the continent is hit by economic and political instability, as is happening now.

The book also addresses, in great detail, “European Pluralistic Identity.” While doing so, the author elaborates the history and legacy of Muslim-ruled Andalusia, where knowledge and learning were highly regarded, and women and religious minorities were deeply respected. It highlights how ilm, or the Qur’anic instruction to seek knowledge, came to characterize the culture of Andalusia. As a result of what the author refers to as the “ilm ethos” of the erstwhile Andalusians, the region developed a pluralistic and inclusive culture, which in Spanish is called la convivencia, or coexistence.

This section of the book is particularly noteworthy as it underlines the direct, causal relationship between the ilm ethos and convivencia. The author rightly points out that “the urge to reach out to God through knowledge, which is embedded in the ilm ethos, is thus translated into an embrace of God’s creation irrespective of racial, religious, or class differences, which may be defined as convivencia.” It reminds us of the importance we need to give to understanding each other’s faith traditions if we want to do away with the conflict and intolerance that our world is today enduring.

The second part of the book explores the distinct Muslim communities of Europe, which are categorized as Muslim immigrants, indigenous Muslims, and Muslim converts.

The discussion over the condition of Muslim immigrants in Europe clearly refers to the stark difference between the character of British and French colonialism, and thereby the status of Muslim immigrants in these countries, the vast majority of whom have origins in their respective former colonies. It is diligently highlighted in the book that although both these countries, which exemplified European imperialism, have histories of atrocities against their colonial subjects, imperial Britain had a relatively inclusive approach which allowed its subjects to find a place and grow in British society while retaining their own identity with integrity; whereas, there was no such possibility for the French colonial subjects. As a result, while there are a number of immigrant success stories in all spheres of British public life, such as Baroness Sayeeda Warsi in politics, Sir Mo Farah in sports, Salman Rushdie in literature, and Abdus Salam in science, it is not possible to find Muslims excelling in such diverse fields in France.

With regards to the indigenous Muslim population of Europe, the book offers its readers a window into the native yet marginalized and forgotten Muslim communities of the continent. The author revives the memory of the horrific genocide against Bosnian Muslims in the early 1990s and quotes a very pertinent question by the former Mayor of Srebrenica, Camil Durakovic, as to whether the European response to it would have been as lethargic as it was if the Bosniaks had not been Muslims.

The social and economic conditions of other marginalized indigenous Muslim communities such as the Turks of Greece and Bulgaria, the Pomaks, and the Albanians; and the forgotten communities like the Tatars, the Roma, and the Cham are also fairly addressed in the book. Despite their long history of loyalty and service to their motherlands, they are not considered as part of the Volk in the nationalist, tribal imagination of Europe.

“The continent that centuries ago launched the crusades against the Muslim world and later colonized it is now, ironically, providing Islam with a new lease of life” (p. 306).

This sentence brilliantly encapsulates the significance of Muslim converts in Europe. At a time when referring to Islam as a religion of barbarity has become a norm, thousands of Europeans, especially women, are wholeheartedly embracing it:

“… Europeans approached the subject of conversion to Islam with intellectual seriousness and careful reasoning. They are in the tradition of the European philosophers in their quest for truth and meaning. … Their conversion is invariable a mixture of head and heart. It should also be noted that European primordial identity – which has reservations regarding morally vacuous materialism, consumerism, and globalization and defines differentiated roles for men and women – finds an echo in the attraction many converts feel toward Islam today” (p. 306).

The final part of the book deals with a range of matters of crucial importance, such as the effect of European primordial identity on Muslims and Jews, the impact of the repugnant terrorist group ISIS on the lives of European Muslims, and the imperative for convivencia on the continent.

This section of the book discusses in great detail how Jews were persecuted, and Muslims appreciated, throughout Europe’s history because of the typical attitude of primordial tribal identity towards religious and ethnic minorities. This attitude has been reflected in the works of German philosophers like Johann Gottfried von Herder. Herder believed that only those who lived in their own lands with the people of their own ethnicity and shared the same cultural traditions were deserving of respect, and therefore he disparaged the Jews for relocating to Europe and admired the Arabs for continuing to live in their original homeland in the deserts of the Middle East.

However, Ahmed notes that the establishment and the rise of the State of Israel has been a formidable force on European politics and perspectives. Simultaneously, the unabated chaos in the Middle East and the consequential refugee crisis have resulted in the dramatic reversal of relationships. Although anti-Semitism is still rife within European right-wing movements, the general European view of Jews, who are now settled in their homeland, is mostly positive; whereas even moderate Europeans view the Muslim community, who have been dislocated from their homelands, with suspicion.

A careful and comprehensive analysis has been done by the author on the issue of ISIS and the support that it garnered from some sections of European Muslims, which is reflected in the fact that over 5,000 of them travelled to Syria and Iraq to join the terrorist group. He argues “that supporters of terrorism are not monolith, and their paths to terrorism are different,” and divides “these Muslims into three categories: those immigrants with a tribal background, those with a modernist Islamic background, and European converts.”

The author gives a set of different reasons that these Muslims had/have for their support of the dreaded terrorist group. For instance, for those with a tribal background where taking revenge is part of the culture, marginalization, constant cultural humiliation, and an utter lack of opportunities in Europe drove some of them to seek revenge through terrorism. For those with a modernist Islamic background, the inability of elders to engage in serious intellectual debates meant they tried to find answers on the Internet, where some ended up reading literature posted by radical groups. Lacking proper guidance about their new faith and its doctrines, new European converts were not taught how to eliminate discrimination and injustice against their new fellow brothers and sisters in faith. In their efforts to find guidance, some were radicalized.

Ahmed’s book also points to the very important fact that support for ISIS is high in places where Islamophobia is high, and it is low where Islamophobia is low. It notes that given Southern Europe has some memory of convivencia and as a result has low Islamophobia, no European Muslims who travelled to the Middle East to join ISIS came from this region.

Based on the fieldwork findings, Professor Ahmed concludes his book with ten immensely valuable solutions. These are meant to contain the crisis that seems to be engulfing Europe. The first among them is reviving the ilm ethos and seeking knowledge about one another, which is extremely close to my heart.

Ahmed’s book is a must-read not only for students of anthropology and sociology but also for the decision-makers, in Europe and beyond.

Journey into Europe: Islam, Immigration and Identity
By Akbar Ahmed
591 pages, hardcover
Brookings Institution Press (February 27, 2018)
ISBN: 978-0815727583

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

Interview with Jihad Turk

Bayan Claremont is one of the few institutions offering graduate degree in Islamic studies in the United States. Operating as a division of the Claremont School of Theology in California, Bayan aims to contribute to “a world that understands Islamic values in a modern context,” as the vision statement reads on their website. Under the current climate of phobias, be it against Islam or immigrants, Bayan and other institutions that focus on Islamic studies have a serious role to play – to provide a convenient medium of communication among members of our society. Professor Jihad Turk, the President of Bayan, is surely one of those Muslim leaders in the United States who can keep channels of dialogue open and help shape a Muslim identity that is confidently unified with the Western context. Professor Turk was very kind to accept our request for an interview during a family visit in Cleveland, OH. We could not help but start our interview with what is perhaps so striking about him at first sight: his name, which is a very intriguing combination.

The Fountain: I am sure you have had to answer this question many times, but could you tell us about your name? Given the current circumstances, it must have been an interesting experience.

Jihad Turk: I am an American kid from Arizona. Having a name like Jihad, growing up, you’d think, would be a challenge for me. But I grew up in the seventies. People just thought Jihad was an exotic Mexican name. My father is an immigrant from Jerusalem. He is Palestinian, he was born in Palestine in 1938. He came [to the US] in 1956 as a teenager. He met my mother, who is a Christian American. They got married and had me in 1971. My father chose the names of the two boys and my mom chose the names for girls – I have three sisters. My father told me the meaning of my name when my classmates and teammates in soccer were giving me the nickname Jay for short. He insisted and said, “No, your name is Jihad, and I chose that name because it means something important. It means the struggle to do the right thing. And it is worth the extra effort for people to say the full name. I have always been very aware of the meaning of the name since I was seven or eight. And as for the name Turk, it has to do with my great grandfather who was conscripted into the Ottoman Empire military as an officer in WWI. He was given the nickname Abu Turki, which was cut short when my father emigrated to the US in the fifties.

The Fountain: How much do you feel like that name has shaped your identity and made you who you are?

JT: It was really the experiences of being part of a pioneering Muslim family in Arizona and Phoenix in the seventies and eighties, participating not only in the mosque but also one of the things that my father and mother did was that they sent us to a summer youth camp for Muslims, a family camp that’s been operational since the sixties, called the Muslim Youth Camp. And they sent us to MYNA, Muslim Youth of North America, which was like a Muslim youth leadership training program. There I met other Muslims who became close friends, even though they lived all across the country, far away from me and Arizona. We formed a special bond. Some of the mentors I came to know as councilors or teachers at those programs really inspired me to learn more about the religion. Ultimately when my parents divorced when I was seventeen, it led me to explore more seriously religion in general and Islam in particular; it led me on a journey around the world, where I learned Arabic and Farsi (Persian). I studied in both the Islamic University of Medina and then in the University of Tehran and in Qum. I went on to pursue Islamic studies for my graduate work as well.

The Fountain: You are now the President of Bayan Claremont, a graduate school in Islamic studies. Tell us about the goals and vision of Bayan.

JT: I was fortunate. While I was pursuing my PhD at UCLA in Islamic studies, I was hired as the imam or the religious director at the largest and oldest mosque in LA. It was in that context where I was able to serve a very large, dynamic, and diverse American Muslim community, and interact with imams and Muslim leaders from across the country, where I began to identify some of the major needs of the American Muslim community, plus having a wife and four kids, I saw some of the challenges of raising a Muslim family in the United States. It was through those experiences and through also serving as a counselor at MYNA, the same camp that I grew up in, that I identified a major need: the need to develop leaders for the American Muslim community who were well adjusted in their identity as both American and as Muslim. It might seem like a straightforward idea, but to have a leader who doesn’t see the conflict in being fully American and fully Muslim, and can help young people have a coherent and unified identity, is a major step, I think, we need to take as a community. We need to embrace this approach. Because what I have noticed is that many immigrant families, whether they be from Turkey or the Arab world, Indo-Pakistani or Persian backgrounds, isolate and insulate themselves from society and think that they are passing on the culture and the faith successfully in doing so, until they have a rude awakening when their children go off and sometimes leave the faith and don’t affiliate themselves with the Muslim community. That’s because children growing up with a household that is very cultural and religious within the house; but leaving the house, they have a split personality and were not only just American but also not religious, not respecting the values and traditions of their families outside the household. Having leaders that can help the families and the young people [develop] a unified identity that is fully Muslim but also fully integrated into the modern world and to the United States of America. It is important.

The Fountain: How do you believe the American identity can contribute to being a Muslim in this globalized world? And how can being a Muslim contribute to America?

JT: There are a lot of tropes and themes going back to early encounters with colonialist powers where Muslim intellectuals would visit the West. Some of them, like one Muslim scholar said when he visited western Europe, “Here we have Islam with no Muslims in it, and in Egypt we have Muslims with no Islam.” That’s an exaggeration, of course. But the idea is that there are values in the West that are very Islamic, whether it’s the freedom of speech – something that is challenged in many Muslim lands, including Turkey – freedom to practice religion and to be protected in whatever it is that you believe in and however it is that you worship, [as well as] civic engagement, participation, and governance to ensure that there is not only justice in your local community, but at the national level, and even the opportunity for people to participate in policy making at the international level through elections and the democratic process. It is not perfect; there are many problems with it. That’s where I think being Muslim comes in. Because as Muslims we have values that we can offer to society, try and participate, and exert influence in a way that is positive and constructive to the society in which we live. Given that the system opens its arms to us and welcomes us not only to become citizens but also to participate fully, it would be a dereliction of our moral responsibility to not take up that opportunity and challenge, and offer the beautiful responses inspired by our connection to God through Islam.

The Fountain: While covering different disciplines of science and the humanities, we encourage readers to explore life by exercising both their hearts and minds. This is in part in response to the downgrading of religion to an identity only, in which the faithful, be they Muslims or Christians or members of other traditions, in fact are believers culturally. What would you say about this challenge?

JT: One of the things we have lost as an ummah, internationally speaking, is our rigorous, academic foundations in not only studying our own faith but in studying the natural sciences. There is a lot of debate on “closing of the door of ijtihad” and all of those things; I don’t fall into the category of those who believe that this collapse or downgrading of our intellectual production occurred because of that. Even in that timeframe I think there has been much evidence that there was still significant contribution to various scientific fields up until the last hundred and fifty years or so. But I do think it’s lost for the most part and part of what’s lost is this curiosity, the ability to look with a scientific eye at nature and reality. This is something that’s lost not only in our tradition but also to the West: to be able to do that within the religious framework. So, we have lost the religious framework to look to science, and [how to create] a scientific-minded western world within a religious framework. One of things I think Islam has been better at than most other world religions, historically, is to seamlessly encourage exploration of science to its fullest without any reservations and to do so with a sense of awe and wonder of the Creator of all things, in a way that there has not been a conflict. We don’t have this conflict between church and science that manifested itself in other parts of the world historically that has driven many people away from religion altogether. We have exhortations in the Qur’an to go and explore and understand the creation and the existence. As God says in the Qur’an, “Only those who have true knowledge are in true awe of God” (35:28). So, a standard is set that we should pursue ’ilm, i.e. knowledge, scientific knowledge as well. One of the things we are trying to do at Bayan is to reignite the skill of critical thinking. If you study in a seminary wherever that may be in the Muslim world, you are oftentimes just taught to memorize certain texts that are already established; but you are not taught critical thinking skills and given the ability to apply those skills to the texts to extract from historical tradition the axioms and principles that we can apply in a way that is most relevant not for just Muslims in the West but Muslims in the modern world. Having that scientific frame-of-mind, rekindling that critical thinking skill that we always had historically and has only waned in the last hundred and fifty years or so, we can reclaim that as part of our central identity. Not only would we be well adjusted for modernity, but we would be able to reengage with the scientific world in a way that would allow us to begin to contribute once again in significant ways.

The Fountain: Religious thought in many parts of the world, especially in the Muslim world, today is being used more like an instrument to define relations with the “enemy,” with the “other,” and to respond to the colonizing powers. This is obviously not what a religion is for, which is an expression of an inner feeling and a source of faith and hope. One way of tackling this could be to review our understanding of the world by both scientific and religious references and reach a reconciliation between our hearts. The Hizmet Movement, whose main goal was to promote this sort of education and dialogue throughout the world, is now being persecuted in Turkey, where it was born, and in some Muslim countries where the Turkish government has influence. What are your thoughts about all of this?

JT: One of the things that Hizmet is doing really well is providing high quality education. I am not a member of Hizmet. But from visiting some of the schools here in the United States and around the world, it seems to me that there is great success in education that is focused on science. The scientific focus of the schools is something that will produce students who can be not only successful for themselves but also contribute to the success of their communities, their families, and the countries in which they live. It is a shame that these schools are being forced to close down. Hizmet does three things very well from my perspective as an outsider: provide high quality education, oftentimes in communities that are underserved, sometimes impoverished. So, it is lifting up communities that are marginalized. [Two], Hizmet is focused on charitable work and relief efforts. And [lastly], it is trying to bridge the gap of understanding between cultures, communities, and religious groups. Those misunderstandings often lead to conflict and even warfare in certain circumstances. To have the efforts of this movement undermined not only by systematic persecution at home but also through the curtailing of fundamental modern values of freedom speech, freedom of association, and others is a travesty. It is heartbreaking to see the persecution and undermining of such great efforts that are of benefit to humanity.

The Fountain: The United States is a country where religion is still alive in many ways. However, an extreme secularist worldview is also on the rise, more so in Europe, dominating the politics and philosophy, as well as identities. How do you see the future? Do you think religion will survive?

JT: For sure, you see in Europe a decline in religion much more dramatically than in the United States. You do see growing trends of secularism and atheism. I would say atheism is a kind of materialism. Materialism is sometimes misunderstood as a focus on money and wealth. Materialism is a scientific posture, almost like an anti-theological posture that explains everything through anything but God. It is like an anti-God theology or philosophy. Oftentimes it cloaks itself in the garb of science, when in fact the claims made by materialists who are demonizing religion and vilifying faith are doing so despite the fact that their claims are not backed up by a purely scientific approach. At Bayan we partnered with Claremont School of Theology and we put out a conference entitled “Science between Religion and Materialism.” We explored in that conference the area that is clearly scientific, where science can speak with authority, and where the edges of that are, and where either materialism makes claims that are not scientific, or religion makes claims that are not provable or disprovable scientifically. For example, the claim that God exists. You would not say that there is proof that God exists in pure scientific fashion, nor can you say that God does not exist using a pure scientific method. Both of those claims are made by people of faith in religion and by materialists. Even though they claim they are the scientific-minded folks, they are making non-scientific claims. They try in a very deceptive way to fool the audience, the masses, into thinking that they are more rational and sound, but in fact oftentimes for reasons of interpersonal bitter experiences, they have their agenda that is not rooted in science per se. So, what we can do as an institution is reestablish not only the solid position that science should have but also identify clearly the boundaries that define the scientific realm, and then still have conversations about what faith or materialism does have to offer. Then we can have more honest conversation, and if we can [make them] accessible to the public it will not necessarily create this tension between most people who are scientifically minded and faithful people. Many Muslim and Christian scientists historically do not see that conflict. It has been exaggerated and conflated in recent times by certain individuals, but unjustly so. We can reclaim the complementary relationship between the two and push back against the movement that vilifies faith and religion based on science.

The Fountain: Finally, what would you say about the debate around women and Islam?

JT: To be honest, Islam does not mistreat women. But some Muslim individuals and cultures, quite frankly, might and do. If we are to take our religion seriously, we have to reevaluate our traditional and cultural practices and ensure that what we are doing upholds the role of women in our societies and gives them not only proper rights but also the dignity to participate in creating great communities. At Bayan Claremont we are not only inclusive of women at the level of board of trustees – our chair of our board is a woman – but also we have women in prominent positions of our faculty – the chair of our academic committee is a woman. Many of our faculty members and students are women as well.

The word “Bayan” means – ironically – lady in Turkish. But the name of our school is from the Qur’an, chapter Rahman (55), which means clear, coherent speech reflecting clear, coherent thinking. Empowering women through education and positions of influence in society, we can live up to the Qur’anic and Islamic responsibility that we have to ensure that women are given their full rights and justice.

We are creating a university in the United States that is offering a world class graduate level education and accredited degrees to empower Muslim intellectuals and leaders to help bring communities in the United States and around the world to a position of excellence. We are doing that by not only having a solid foundation on the tradition of Islam but also in the modern world, [founded on] critical thinking and best practices in leadership in order to achieve that lofty goal. Our degree program is in partnership with other faith community institutions of higher education, i.e. a Christian seminary, a Jewish seminary, a Buddhist university, because we feel that there is a lot of common ground in terms of values [Islam shares] with other world religions that we can build upon for the common good. Having our institution work closely with other world religions, their leaders and future leaders, is a recipe for bringing about a more peaceful society in a more peaceful world.

I’ve been working with them now for the past eight years. I’ve had an opportunity to work closely with them and to travel with them overseas, and I see no foundation for this.

As a matter of fact, when I look at their zeal and their enthusiasm for the religion, and I look at how they practice the Qur’an and the life example of Muhammad the Prophet (upon him be peace), I’m inspired by what they do.

And they not only focus and center upon Muslims, they have great relationships with the non-Muslim community. And I would consider them to be like ambassadors for Islam.

They share Ramadan, they share neighborly needs, etc.

Muhammad the Prophet (upon him be peace) said he was one time talking with one of his companions, and he asked them if he knew one of the brothers. And then, he said, “Yes, I know so and so.”

And then the Prophet (upon him be peace) said, “Well, let me ask you something about him. Have you worked with him?”

He said, “No.”

“Have you traveled with him?”

He said, “No.”

Then the Prophet (upon him be peace) said, “Well, then you don’t know him.”

I’m pleased to say that I’ve worked with our brothers, and I have traveled with them. And I know them well.

And to classify them as terrorists in any form is a great misrepresentation.

The other thing that I want to say is that they are very loyal and very patriotic to this nation. They work to support the good works in this nation.

They also work with all people, faith or no faith, and they show by example what the Prophet Muhammad (upon him be peace) taught us.

Some of us read books, some of us talk, but they actually do. And I consider it a privilege and an honor to be associated with them and to be part of the brotherhood.

I see them as wonderful human beings and as true Muslims, and I can say this as one that has studied the religion and been a leader in the religion for over 25 years. I can say this.

Also, what I want to say to you is that when people try to come against them – because some Muslims don’t know about them and their movement and the good that they do in the world – I would tell them not to worry about that.

I would tell them to continue to model and be an excellent example of this religion and also build on the relationships you already have.

Myself, as one of your brothers and friends: if I know other Muslims don’t know you, I’m happy to take you with me and introduce you to them and let them get to know you so they can form their own opinions.

And I have no doubt that once they get to know you and get to know your leadership, I have no doubt that they will no longer believe these outrageous allegations against you.

Muhammad the Prophet (upon him be peace) made education a top priority. You all make education a top priority.

He told us that we should be kind and considerate and respectful and hospitable to our neighbor. You all demonstrate that. You host iftars, you host various events during the month of Ramadan to educate the people.

So the Hizmet Movement is, I think, vital to the Muslim community, and they are also showing us how to apply the wonderful, universal, timeless concepts of Islam in the 21st century.

My imam, my teacher, taught me that you never change the principles. You never change the logic in Islam.

He said, but it’s OK to change the way you express the logic. And we have to look at our current set of circumstances and our reality here in the West and apply the best application of this faith.

I see them doing that, and I see them embracing the entire human family and making a positive, wonderful difference in the world.

They’re a benefit to the Muslim community and humanity as a whole.

Imam Omar Shakir, Resident Imam at Masjid Bilal ibn Rabah of San Antonio, Texas

This article has first been published in the special issue of the Fountain Magazine © Blue Dome Press

Hizmet is a group of people that I have observed carry out the best of
Islamic ideals: kindness, hospitality, love, selfless service. They are
mainstream in their creed, as far as the Sunni Islamic school of thought
goes. They read the Qur’an; they pray five times a day; they fast. They’re
very spiritual people. They don’t push their beliefs, their Islamic
beliefs, on non-Muslims. That’s not what they’re out to do. They’re out to
serve the world, Muslim and non-Muslim alike. So in terms of being an
“un-Islamic cult,” Hizmet is anything but. What they really are, in my
opinion, is a true embodiment of the Islamic ideals of love and service to
the other. And I’ve never seen anything to suggest otherwise.

I’m a civil rights activist, a human rights activist; I don’t take my
marching orders from demagogues whether they are domestic or foreign,
whether they are elected or dictators. What I look at is the process, and
what troubles me in today’s Turkey is the process. Due process is the
arbiter between those who accuse and those who defend. It’s absent in
contemporary Turkey. And there has to be independent judiciary; it has to
be judges and a court that is not in anybody’s corner. What we’re seeing in
Turkey, unfortunately, is a situation where government is essentially run
by one party that acts as both the accuser/the prosecutor, the judge and
the executioner. And those who are accused don’t really have any leeway in
the system to defend themselves.

Those who know Hizmet, who have interacted with Hizmet, know Hizmet is the
farthest thing from violence. They’ve never promoted violence; they’ve
never accepted violence; they’ve been the first to condemn violence,
including a violent overtake of a Republic, a coup. They’ve condemned this
coup, and they’ve never promoted anything close to it. They’ve never been
involved in anything that is violent in nature.

Now that the accusation is there, we have to ask for proof. And, even if
there are individuals who may be associated with the Hizmet who were
involved in one crime or another, including a coup, the question becomes:
at what point do you incriminate an entire movement of millions of people,
volunteers who want to serve humanity through their Islamic ideals? Can we
condemn a teacher, a 24-year-old woman serving in some remote part of
Turkey, Pakistan, or Kazakhstan, or anywhere in the world where they build
schools in areas of underserved, underprivileged communities? How are these
souls devoted to service affiliated or associated with that particular
crime?

What you look at here is a witch hunt; it is “guilt by association.” These
are not in the tradition of liberal justice, liberal values that
democracies espouse.

And it’s exactly what is happening around the world when people in power
want to shut out those who are not in their pockets, those they can’t
control, or those whom they don’t like.

When a government is moving towards autocracy, when you’re becoming a
demagogue, when you become the “state” (l’état, c’est moi) and
when you shut out opposition, shut down media, imprison journalists, and
declare organizations, schools, mosques, or associations or universities or
charities, as terrorist organizations just by a signature, then I have to
say, that is incorrect, and that is problematic, and that is unjust!

And I’ll raise my voice, as a Muslim, as a human being, but also as a civil
rights and human rights activist, because civil rights and human rights are
not piecemeal. They cannot be divided; they cannot be allocated to one
group and then denied to another. I believe that ideals are only good and
are only meaningful if they apply to all human beings. It’s a belief in
blind due process, a blind independent judiciary, and having the procedures
and the processes of justice apply everywhere, equally, to all people.

When I read the news that [Hizmet] schools were being shut down in
Pakistan, it hurt, because Pakistan is in need of good schools, it’s in
need of education. We hear about radicalization, we hear about illiteracy,
we hear about the lack of education in parts of the country – same in the
United States, same in the world. And anyone who is putting themselves into
service to build schools and educate young people is doing good in the
world. As someone who built an organization, I understand how much effort
this takes. I understand every wall that is painted, every nail that is
hammered into that wall, every computer that is bought and connected, every
chair and every table, and then all of the content that comes along with a
good education. It takes so much to build a single classroom, let alone a
whole organization. And here you have a school of many classrooms, and then
you have a movement of many schools. One signature, for political pressure
or for personal gain, shuts it all down.

It’s so hard to build. It’s so easy to destroy. And we, Muslim-Americans
and people of conscience, have to raise our voices and say, “We don’t stand
for that!”

Ahmed Rehab, CAIR (Council on American-Islamic Relations), Chicago

This article has first been published in the special issue of the Fountain Magazine © Blue Dome Press