Talking with Churches about Islam

John Kaltner
Rhodes College
Memphis, Tennessee

The events of September 11, 2001, have affected me in a profound and personal way. This is so for two reasons: I am a native New Yorker, and I have a deep respect and admiration for the religion of Islam. The interplay between those two factors has led to a considerable amount of soul searching on my part since that tragic day. The scenes of unspeakable horror and violence in my hometown have sickened and saddened me. At the same time, I have been disturbed by the way the Islamic faith has sometimes been unfairly portrayed and maligned by non-Muslims. In effect, the attack on the United States has occasionally led to an attack on Islam.

This latter attack is as dangerous and potentially damaging as the first one. If left unchecked, anti-Islamic sentiment can lead to actions as devastating as those we witnessed in New York, Washington, D.C., and rural Pennsylvania. In the days and weeks after September 11, I was concerned that this might be the response many would opt for, but since that time my experiences visiting and talking with faith communities suggest that those fears were unfounded.

My interest in Islam began in the 1980s when I spent most of the decade living in the Middle East while I was associated with the Catholic Foreign Mission Society of America (Maryknoll). During those years I lived primarily in Cairo, where I had the opportunity to make many Muslim friends and learn a great deal about their faith. Since returning to the United States and beginning an academic career, the issue of interfaith dialogue among Jews, Christians, and Muslims has been an area of special interest in my teaching and writing.

Soon after September 11 I began to get invitations from churches, asking me to speak to their congregations about Islam. I had done similar things in the past on occasion, but the number of such opportunities increased dramatically as people began to reflect on the background and significance of the attacks. Most of these invitations came from communities in Memphis, where I now live, but a few brought me to congregations in other parts of the country. I have visited churches that span the theological and denominational spectrums, but the questions and concerns that have been voiced in them have been remarkably similar.

The content and the form of my presentations have varied depending upon the interests and wishes of each church. Some groups have asked that I give a general introduction to the basic beliefs and practices of Muslims. Others have wanted a comparative approach that allows them to consider Islam in light of Christianity. In such cases I have found a comparative study of shared stories in the Bible and the Qur'an to be particularly effective. Reading how Islam's sacred text recounts the story of Moses' birth or the announcement of Jesus' conception to Mary can be an eye-opening experience for Christians that enables them to get a sense of how Muslims view the nature of God and the divine-human relationship. On occasion, churches have asked me to speak on a particular theme. For example, one Episcopal community requested that I treat the issue of violence in Islam, while a Catholic church narrowed down that topic to the concept of jihad.

The format of these gatherings has varied from lecture to discussion to a combination of both. But in the midst of that diversity of settings and subjects I have been struck by the presence of a number of key questions and issues that have surfaced consistently in my conversations with these church groups. Three of them are particularly critical and merit some comment.

What do Muslims think of Christianity?

Variations of this question have been posed repeatedly in my visits to churches. It is often articulated in a way that expects a negative answer along the lines of "Not much!" In some cases, the questioner has framed the query in a way that suggests there is an ingrained hostility toward the Christian faith within Islam. In one instance, a man came up to me after a session and inquired, "Is it true that Muslims hate Jesus?" When I finished my explanation of why this is not the case, several Muslim gentlemen who had overheard the conversation stepped forward and offered their own perspectives. One of them made a statement that undoubtedly surprised the man who asked the question. He said, "It is impossible to be a Muslim and hate Jesus. In fact, a Muslim who does not love Jesus is not a true Muslim."

The man was absolutely correct. It may shock some, but there is a deep and abiding respect for Judaism and Christianity at the core of Islam. This is primarily due to the Muslim understanding of revelation. According to Islamic belief, the divine will has been revealed to a series of prophets throughout history. Many of these figures are familiar to Bible readers—among the most frequently cited prophets in the Qur'an are Noah, Abraham, and Jesus. Each one was sent by God to a particular people with the same message: submit to the divine will.

The Arabic word Islam means "submission." In other words, the message these prior prophets communicated is essentially the same as the one Muhammad brought to his people living in Arabia during the seventh century CE. For this reason, those people who received earlier revelations are referred to throughout the Qur'an as the "People of the Book." Among those singled out for special recognition are Jews and Christians.

Because they consider him to be a prophet, Muslims hold Jesus in very high regard. The way he is portrayed in the Qur'an has some intriguing connections with how the New Testament views him. In Islam's sacred text Jesus is virginally conceived by Mary and is acknowledged as the Messiah who is able to perform miracles that are beyond the capabilities of other people. Despite these similarities, however, it is important for Christians to keep in mind that Islam does not ascribe divinity to Jesus. Among the gravest sins in Islam is the attempt to associate a created person or object with the uncreated nature of Allah. In the Muslim view, this violates and fragments the unity that is the defining quality of the deity.

This means that Muslims believe the incarnation, one of the central tenets of the Christian faith, is a theological impossibility that reflects a misunderstanding regarding the true nature of God. These are painful words for a Christian to hear, but we should not reach the conclusion that they are the result of an innate hatred that Muslims have for Christians. The basis for the disagreement is a difference over God's identity and how that identity is revealed to humanity. This is one of those matters about which Muslims and Christians will never be able to see eye-to-eye, but it does not have to lead automatically to an end of the conversation. The two sides must approach the issue in a spirit of mutual respect and tolerance that can allow each to learn more about the faith of the other. As Christians enter that conversation, they should keep in mind the passage from the Qur'an that says Christians are the nearest to Muslims in affection (5:82).

Does Islam permit or encourage violence against non-Muslims?

This is another question that has come up with a great deal of regularity at the churches I have visited. Here, too, the questioners often expect to hear an affirmative answer because of preconceptions they hold and messages they receive from the news media and Hollywood. The distorted impressions that can result from relying solely upon such sources are well documented and highly problematic. To avoid misunderstanding, the issue needs to be understood and treated within the context of the Islamic community and its history.

Like Christianity, Islam is a diverse and complex religion. There are currently more than one billion Muslims in the world and Islam is found in every part of the globe. It would be foolish to believe that all these people think and behave in exactly the same way. While all Muslims share certain beliefs and practices, there is a rich diversity to the faith. Many of these differences are inconsequential, but others have profound implications. The legitimacy of the use of violence is one such topic.

One of the critical areas of debate among Muslims that dates back to the earliest days of the faith concerns how Muslims should relate to non-Muslims. In more recent times, the question of the relationship with the Western world, particularly the United States, has often been the focus of attention. Many Muslims are open to and embrace ideas and influence from the West while others have been more cautious in their response. Some of this is due to the difficult circumstances many Muslim lands had to tolerate during periods of European colonization. It is also partly the result of the conservative nature of Islam. This is in no way meant to be a pejorative label. It simply refers to the fact that there is a tendency in Islam to look back to the time of the prophet Muhammad (570–632 CE) and the early community as a model to emulate. Lifestyles and ways of thinking that are perceived as not in agreement with that prophetic ideal are often viewed cautiously.

There is a very broad range of opinions within the Muslim community regarding how best to relate to the Western world. Most Muslims prefer to interact with non-Muslims in a spirit of tolerance and dialogue. Some even believe Islam needs to change and adapt itself to become more like the West. A very small number of Muslims believe that violence and confrontation are the only proper response in the face of what they consider to be Western aggression. It is absolutely vital that non-Muslims avoid making generalizations about Islam when members of this last group engage in terrorist activities under the guise of Islam.

The matter is further complicated by the manner in which many non-Muslims understand the term jihad. It is quite ironic that virtually all non-Arabic speakers know at least this one word in the language but very few of them know its proper definition. For the Muslim, the term jihad denotes a complex concept that does not simply mean "holy war."

The word comes from an Arabic root whose primary sense refers to the act of putting forth effort to achieve some objective. Interestingly, the term jihad appears only four times in the Qur'an, although it does turn up more frequently in other important Islamic sources like the traditions about the prophet Muhammad. Approximately forty words coming from the same Arabic root are found in the Qur'an, and a study of them indicates they can be grouped under two main headings. The first group comprises words that refer to the effort each person must exert in order to live his or her life as a good Muslim and avoid the temptation to sin.

The second set of words refers to a different kind of striving and describes the effort that must be put forth to expand the Islamic community. It is critical that we keep in mind the original context of these latter passages when we interpret them. Early in his prophetic career, Muhammad often met opposition from the local leaders of Mecca and elsewhere as he attempted to spread the message of Islam. Words in the second category are meant to encourage him and his followers not to give up and to do all they can to bring Islam to their contemporaries. This occasionally entailed war and military engagements—Islam, like Christianity, has had a bloody history at times. But these texts from the Qur'an make it quite clear that warfare is only legitimate when Islam is under attack and it should therefore always be defensive in nature.

These two sets of meanings form the basis of a distinction within Islam between greater jihad and lesser jihad. Greater jihad is a duty required of all Muslims as they constantly strive to avoid evil and remain devoted to their faith. Lesser jihad is more limited in nature and refers to the effort that must sometimes be exerted to defend Islam. This effort can, on occasion, include war, but the Qur'an and other Islamic sources insist that war is only proper when it is a defensive response to an attack, and other criteria have been met.

The issue of interpretation looms large when determining the legitimacy of violence. What constitutes an attack on Islam? What is the appropriate defensive response to such an attack? Such questions have been debated for centuries. But it is the opinion of virtually all Muslims that the attacks of September 11 do not meet the criteria and it is therefore wrong to consider them examples of lesser jihad.

It is important to note that the four occurrences of the word in the Qur'an refer to greater jihad, not lesser. Similarly, we should keep in mind that the term "holy war" never appears in the pages of Islam's sacred text. Non-Muslims should therefore avoid giving this key concept a distorted meaning that equates it with violence and bloodshed. The answer to the question posed is therefore a complicated one. While violence against non-Muslims can be sanctioned within Islam, it is only permissible if the proper conditions are met. The analogy with Christianity is helpful here. There is a long history of debate within the Christian community regarding appropriate use of warfare and violence but there is no clear consensus on the matter. This is the same situation the Muslim community finds itself in.

Why haven't Muslims spoken out against what was done in the name of Islam on September 11?

This may be the most frequently asked question I have heard in churches since the terrorist attacks. Rephrased, it usually goes something like this: "If Muslims are so opposed to what bin Laden has said and done in the name of Islam, why don't they do something about it?" This is a very good question, but its answer is not as easy as it might first appear. The basic problem is that Islam is not organized in a way that makes this kind of response possible.

In order for a group to have a unified stand on an issue, there needs to be an established body or organization that takes a position, renders a verdict, formulates a statement, and articulates a response that speaks for the group. We see this type of thing in many churches where there is some assembly or individual that has the authority to speak for the community. For example, the Pope and synods of bishops often function in this capacity in the Catholic Church.

Such a structure does not exist in Islam since it lacks a clergy and institutionalized hierarchy. Quite simply, there is no centralized authority in the religion, and this is a situation that has both advantages and disadvantages. On the positive side, it can foster a more democratic sense within a community and encourage involvement among all members. But the arrangement does raise some significant questions. Who speaks for the group? How is consensus formulated and communicated? Throughout history, religious scholars, especially those trained in Islamic law, have taken charge and rendered pronouncements in the name of the faith. But even here there is no single overarching authority in place.

The challenges this can present are apparent in the case of the novelist Salman Rushdie, the author of The Satanic Verses. In the late 1980s Ayatollah Khomeini of Iran issued a fatwa, or legal ruling, calling for Rushdie's death because he considered the novel to be an insult to Islam and its prophet. Khomeini had the authority to do so by virtue of his office, but most of the Islamic world questioned the appropriateness of the ruling and many were completely opposed to it. This led to an intense debate within Islam regarding who has the right to determine what is insulting to the faith and how disagreement with legal rulings should be articulated. The issue continues to be a hot one in many areas of Islamic life.

Christians need to recognize that Muslims "are doing something about it," just not in the way that some non-Muslims want things to be done. They need to stop looking for a decree from on high or a completely united voice that speaks for all Muslims. (Is such a thing possible in any religion, Christianity included?) Rather, they should accept the structure of Islam for what it is and they should remember that not all people in the world share the organizational system and the view of authority that often typify Christianity.

The three questions I have treated here are important ones, but they are only the tip of the iceberg when it comes to issues pertaining to Muslim-Christian relations. Similarly, the responses and comments I have offered for each are only a starting point for improving those relations from the Christian side. Each congregation needs to determine for itself the best way to deepen its understanding of Islam. Ideally, conversation with Muslims should be a part of this wherever possible.

Recently, I was reminded of the exciting things that can happen when Christians invite Muslims to join them in open dialogue. I had the opportunity to take part in a three-week series of discussions between members of Idlewild Presbyterian Church and the Muslim Society of Memphis, and the experience conjures up an image that is a fitting one with which to conclude this article. As the choir rehearsed in the room next to ours before Sunday worship each week, forty Muslims and Christians came together in an attempt to celebrate what unites us and to better understand what keeps us apart. At times, members of our group had to raise their voices to be heard over the music. By the third week I came to realize that on both sides of the wall a similar thing was happening—people were attempting to achieve unity despite difference. We Christians and Muslims were the equivalent of the sopranos and tenors next door. Someone standing in the hallway would have been struck by the harmonies emanating from both rooms.

 

Published with permission by Dr. John Kaltner 10/30/2002 (all copyrights are held by Author)

John KaltnerJohn Kaltner (Ph.D., Drew University, Hebrew Bible; S.S.L., Pontifical Biblical Institute; Diploma, Pontifical Institute of Arabic and Islamic Studies) teaches courses in the Bible, Islam, and Arabic. His primary areas of research are Semitic lexicography and comparative study of the Bible and the Qur'an. Among his publications are the books The Use of Arabic in Biblical Hebrew Lexicography (CBQMS 28; Washington: Catholic Biblical Association of America, 1996) and Ishmael Instructs Isaac: An Introduction to the Qur'an for Bible Readers (Collegeville: Liturgical Press/Michael Glazier, 1999). He is co-editor of the forthcoming book Beyond Babel: A Handbook for Biblical Hebrew and Related Languages (Atlanta: Scholars Press), for which he wrote the chapter on the Arabic language. Since 1998, he has been editor of Biblical Hebrew and Arabic comparative lexicography for a revision of The Hebrew and Aramaic Lexicon of the Old Testament.
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