For thousands of years, religion has been the source of persecution, misunderstanding, violence, and all-out war. In the late 20th century, especially after Vatican II in 1965, major religions began to try to come to understanding without force. They began to try to understand one another; to communicate with caution. Armed with the confidence that the major religions can get along, we struggled through the last decades of the 20th century, experimenting with dialogues, conversations, shared worship. Today words such as communication, understanding, and dialogue are commonplace as we attempt to reduce tension between the world's three major religions: Judaism, Christianity, Islam. Like many, we hope for the success of dialogue and process and abhor violence and senseless killing.
But, in the wake of September 11, we are forced to ask the question again: Can the worlds' three major religions get along?
This is exactly the question that inspires Bruce Feiler in his most recent work, Abraham: A Journey to the Heart of Three Faiths. Bruce Feiler, the recent author of the bestseller Walking the Bible, returns to the sacred region to search out the answer to the penetrating question. He uses a key figure, Abraham, as the lens for this pursuit. Abraham is a pivotal figure for Jews, Christians and Muslims. Each claim Abraham to be their patriarch; each claim him representative of their faith.
Feiler sets out to try to define and understand Abraham and Abraham's role in each belief system. He does this in clear, concise writing, creating an enjoyable narrative firmly based in careful research. As the adventurer that he is, he sets out to discover Abraham in Abraham's provenance: in Israel. Feiler meets with Imams, Priests, Rabbis—not to mention taxi drivers, waiters, and students—in his quest. Refreshingly open as he encounters frustration, fear, and sadness during his journey, Feilers' enthusiasm is infectious.
Feiler starts by reminding us of the Biblical Abraham. It's amazing, really, if you add up all the information in the Bible, how little we know. The first time Abraham appears, he's old, married, childless. At age seventy-five, he receives the call from God, and his life really begins. All that happens to him after he leaves his homeland is pretty incredible: he moves to Canaan, travels to Egypt, fathers two sons, changes his name, exiles his first son, attempts to kill his second, fights a world war, buys some land, buries his wife, remarries, fathers another wife, and dies at one hundred twenty five!
Abraham, according to Feiler, is “ the man who reminds us that even though God may have cut the umbilical cord with humans, humans still need nourishment from God. . . The lesson of Abraham's early life is that being human is not being safe, or comfortable. Being human is being uncertain, being on the way to unknown place; being on the way to God.”
Feiler spends significant time uncovering Abraham's biblical origins, as well as discussing Abraham's sons, Isaac and Ishmael, in his book. However, his sections on each religion's relationship with Abraham is what really proved fascinating and informative. Each religion manipulated the text to allow Abraham to supplement their canon, and thereby concretize their faith.
Feiler's ultimate goal, then, is to uncover who Abraham was, and how he came to represent each faith so totally. What Feiler continually discovers- profoundly—is that each religion, through process of extending the text, creates their own Abraham, securely rooted, and exemplifying their faith.
The most obvious example: Abraham has no childhood in the Bible. So the interpreters created one; without a personality, one was imprinted upon him. We know many of the stories: Abraham destroying the idols in his father's shop is the most well known. Feiler describes this process: “God may have made humans in his image; we humans made Abraham in ours.”
In essence, though, Feiler did not uncover one single Abraham. He discovered over two hundred and forty! He believed that if he uncovered Abraham's identity-or identities-- in each religion he would have a clearer understanding of each belief's values.
In Judaism, Abraham became elevated after the destruction of the Temples. Bereft of their center, they turned to Abraham,who typified their trials. As Feiler writes, “Abraham helped people cope with the crisis of exile because he himself had been exiled.” “ In short” , Feiler writes, “ early interpreters began to create series of new and improved Abrahams. . . . they were relevant.” Through the process of textual re-reading and creativity, for example, Abraham became an “ important tool to boost the morale of beleaguered Jews and help them withstand pressure to convert.” Over time, Abraham becomes the first Jew, the patriarch par excellence for the Jews.
This process of creating was used by Christianity to do the same thing: to appropriate Abraham for their own purposes. Feiler writes, “. . . over time, just as Jews tried to claim Abraham uniquely, Christians attempted to commandeer Abraham for themselves. The deterioration of the relationship between Jews and Christians can be seen as vividly as anyplace in their rivalry over their shared father.”
For many Christians, God's revelations traveled from Abraham to the prophets to Jesus. According to the early Christian understanding, Abraham had a special relationship with God before the Mosaic law was given. Circumcision, and the giving of the law happened much later in Abraham's story. In other words: relationship with God is not predicated on believing in the law.
As Christian theology develops, Jesus comes to precede Abraham. In this way, over time, Jews are effectively removed from inheritors of the holy land, and disengaged from Abraham as patriarch. Feiler writes, “ Still what these Christian interpreters did is remarkably similar to what Jewish interpreters did: they took a biblical figure open to all, tossed what they wanted to ignore, ginned up what they wanted to stress, and ended up with a symbol for their own uniqueness that looked far more like a mirror image of their own fantasies than a reflection of the original story. Abraham is now a Christian, who knew Jesus, heard the gospel, and passed down God's blessing exclusively to those who embrace the body of Christ.”
The Reverend Petra Heldt, who received her PhD on a thesis about the use of Abraham in early Christian writing, acknowledges the difficulty of these reinterpretations: “If you look at history, each religion, at different times, for different reasons, tried to establish itself as the dominant religion. Claiming Abraham for yourself is just one way to establish your authority. . . No Christian can see the story of Genesis without Paul, no Jew can see it without the rabbis.”
Extending Heldt's example, no Muslim can see Abraham without the imprint of Muhammed and the Kuran. For Muslims, the important thing is that Abraham, when God originally called him to leave his country and start anew, was willing to submit to God. As those “ who submit to God”, for Muslims, Abraham was their true example.
A second key to Muhammeds' message was his ability to weave the message with figures already familiar to potential followers. Abraham was familiar, and was indelibly connected to the land. Connecting Abraham's unwavering faith to this sacred territory in which they already lived proved incredibly powerful. “ Once again, a by product of this process was that interpreters of the new religion expressed their feelings of superiority toward their monotheistic ancestors by tightening their claim on Abraham.” Over time, Muhammed even comes to resemble Abraham—the link is physical, ancestral, and spiritual.
Sheikh Abu Sneina believes that since the principle in the Bible and Kuran is the same—that we all believe that there is one true God—that Abraham can be a uniting force. Sneina said, “ Abraham was a man of faith. He worshiped God, and was thankful for God. He invented monotheism. He had high values. If all people—not just Muslims, Christians, Jews—follow the correct path of Abraham, I'm sure life would be better. . . If we look beyond the details, which we may disagree about, and follow the principles of Abraham—truth, morality and coexistence—then most of our problems will disappear.
Sheikh Abu Sneina essentially summarized Feiler's journey: Can Abraham, as a symbol for all religions, be a uniting force? For some adherents of each religion, the answer is loud and clear: NO. There are Muslims that believe that the will of God led to the masscre on 911; there are Christians who uphold that Abraham's journey was guided by Jesus; there are Jews who understand that Abraham can only be Jewish. On the other hand, there are figures such the Sheikh—a major force in Israeli Palestinian life right now, who believe that, with careful reading, Abraham can become a connecting power. There are people like historian Walter Bruggemann, who wrote, “ I have to be bilingual enough to notice that our confiscation of the tradition is not the only possible legitimate confiscation of the tradition.” Ultimately, once we come to understand, and legitimize, others identification with Abraham, what we've really encountered, according to Feiler, is another Abraham altogether, one who “ should be a student of our time, knowing . . .that a lot of other people bearing his name are running around the world wreaking havoc in his honor.”
Feiler draws a sketch of his Abraham—one which resonates with me: “ the Abraham I long for would be a bridge between humanity and the divine, who demonstrates the example of what it means to be faithful but who also delivers to us God's blessing on earth. . . this Abraham is not a Jew, Christian, or Muslim. He is not flawless, he's not a saint. But he is himself, the best vessel we've got, the father of all. This Abraham won't be the only Abraham. He won't be the last Abraham. But he is an Abraham for today.”
Feiler attacks a tough issue: interfaith relations in a post 9/11 age. I was impressed with his masterful understanding of theological issues. Yet, I do not believe that Feiler was wearing rose-colored glasses; he understands the depth of the issues at hand, and unflinchingly faces them. In addition, I enjoyed the moments where he allowed us glimpses into his own personal journey-how interviews affected him, informed him, changed him. At the end of the book, as I closed the cover, I was buoyed by hope that we can all find a place of commonality—that we can “ all get along.”
E-mail Rabbi Bergman Vann
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