Friday, December 18, 2015

Is the God of Muhammad the Father of Jesus? | Christianity Today

Is the God of Muhammad the Father of Jesus? | Christianity Today



Is the God of Muhammad the Father of Jesus?
Zurijeta / Shutterstock
All of us
are much more aware of Islam since September 11. If we did not know it
before, we know now that more than 1 billion people on Earth, about one
of every six people, are Muslims. In the United States alone, according
to Muslim leaders, there are more than 6 million Muslims, a little less
than half the size of our nation's largest Protestant denomination, the
Southern Baptist Convention (at 15 million). Social scientists who count
religious adherents, however, place the number of American Muslims much
lower, somewhere between 1.8 million and 2.8 million. This more
realistic figure falls in the same range as the Assemblies of God or the
Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod. In any case, the faith is growing
exponentially in some parts of the country. Today in my hometown of
Birmingham, Alabama, which some call the buckle of the Bible belt, there
are several mosques and a thriving Muslim community.
We've also been reminded that Islam, along with Judaism and
Christianity, is one of the three monotheistic faiths. Some take that
fact and assume that all three faiths are just one great religion, or
three equally valid pathways to the same God.
But at this historical moment, when Islam is in our consciousness as
never before, we need to look at that claim more closely, especially in
regard to Islam. One of the better ways to get at an answer is to focus
the question like this: Is the Father of Jesus the God of Muhammad? And
what difference does the answer make?

What We Share

These three great religions share a number of important traits not
shared, for example, by Eastern religions such as Buddhism,
Confucianism, Hinduism, and Taoism. Even within these agreements,
however, we find significant differences.
First, Christianity, Judaism, and Islam are historical religions.
Each claims that God has acted decisively in human history. When they
say this divine action occurred varies significantly. In Judaism it is
the Exodus, God's delivery of his people from slavery in Egypt ("Let my
people go"). For Christianity it is the Incarnation ("the Word was made
flesh and dwelt among us"). For Islam it is the beginning of the latest
and final revelation, as Muslims see it, with the prophet Muhammad, who
was born in 570 in the city of Mecca and died in 632. Furthermore, Islam
adopts essential historical figures from both Judaism and Christianity.
Moses was a prophet of God, Muslims say, who gave the law of God. Jesus
was a friend of God. But when Jesus referred to the Father sending
another Counselor, "who will teach you all things and will remind you of
everything I have said to you" (John 14:26), Muslims believe Jesus was
talking not about the Holy Spirit but about Muhammad.
Second, these three religions are textual (we might say scriptural).
They have holy books. In Judaism it is the Hebrew Bible, consisting of
the Law, the Prophets, and the Writings. For Christianity it is the
Bible, both the Old and New Testaments. For Islam it's the Qur'an. But
the way in which the Qur'an functions in Islam is radically different
from the way the Bible functions in Christianity.
The Qur'an was given, so Muslims believe, by the angel Gabriel to the
prophet Muhammad over a period of 23 years. It was revealed in Arabic, a
direct, divine transcript of a book in heaven. Thus the Qur'an is a
divine book. In fact, in some ways, Muslims view the Qur'an as
Christians see Jesus Christ: the express image of God, the Word of God.
This fact is so important that early Muslims believed, and orthodox
Muslim scholars still believe, that the Qur'an cannot be translated. It has
been translated, of course, but those translations are not considered
authoritative. It must remain in the language of revelation, the
language in which it was given, to remain a true revelation for Muslims.
Certain Christian groups throughout history have made a similar claim
about the Bible. The Greek Orthodox say that the Septuagint, the Greek
version, is the only divinely inspired translation of the Word of God.
For many centuries, Roman Catholics held that only the Bible in Latin
had that kind of authority. That's no longer true for Roman Catholics.
And indeed, some conservative Protestants say only the King James
Version has authority.
But all three of these are distortions of the Christian understanding
of Holy Scripture. Christians believe that the Bible can be translated
into any human language. Why? Because the gospel itself is
culture-permeable. The Bible, as the revealed Word, has come to us in
Greek and Hebrew, the privileged languages of inspiration. But we can
translate and transmit it to all people groups, no matter their
language, because Christianity says that the gospel we proclaim is
world-embracing, as limitless as the gracious love of the Creator.
Finally, these three great religions are all teleological.
They have a purpose, a goal. They are headed somewhere. They do not say
that life is cyclical, going over and over the same experiences we have
known. They do not accept reincarnation. History had a beginning, and
God intervened in it in a certain way and guides it toward an appointed
climax. Naturally, each has its own understanding of what that future
will look like, but all agree that a divine future awaits us.

No Easy Ecumenism

In this post-September 11 world, when we yearn more than ever for the
unity of all peoples, we need to think about what we hold in common. We
can cooperate with Muslims and Jews in many crucial areas, especially
regarding issues that touch on the dignity of human life and the
sanctity of the family (British Muslims, for example, were the first
religious people to publicly protest abortion on demand in England). But
we must not be lulled into an easygoing ecumenism that would amalgamate
all faiths into a homogenized whole. The two problems with such
amalgamation are these: (1) It is a distortion; we simply do not share
the most essential things. (2) It is a sign of disrespect; it fails to
take seriously what each religion claims to be ultimate truth.
Among the many distinctive truths Christians proclaim, and one that
sets us apart from Islam, is this: God, the Father of our Lord Jesus
Christ, is a God who has forever known himself as the Father, the Son,
and the Holy Spirit. This is the doctrine of the Holy Trinity. This is
something that all orthodox Christians believe—Greek Orthodox
Christians, Roman Catholic Christians, evangelical Protestant
Christians, and many others. It is at the heart of the distinctive
message we proclaim and what sets us apart most dramatically from Islam.
Sadly, the doctrine of the Trinity may be the most neglected doctrine
we hold. We are baptized in the name of the Father and the Son and the
Holy Spirit. We often hear that wonderful Pauline benediction at the end
of 2 Corinthians, "May the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the love
of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you all." The
Trinity is essential to our statements of faith, our creeds, and our
confessions. Yet we neglect it.
Why? Partly because we cannot understand it or explain it. Partly
because we forget why it's important. It's one of those things we have
to check off on our list of beliefs, but it doesn't deeply inform our
faith. It's not something that we wake up every day and go to our knees
with in prayer. And so we tend to shove it to the side—until we find
ourselves in a discussion with a Muslim who says to us, "Oh, you
Christians claim to believe in one God, but really you believe in three
gods."
In fact, the Qur'an itself declares in Surah 5:73 (see also 4:171) that
Christians believe in three gods, and that this is blasphemy against
Allah. Islam arose in the Christian era, when theologians and laity
still hotly debated the great Trinitarian formulas. Some Christians were
teaching heretical notions of the Trinity in Mecca, where Muhammad
lived. One such heresy claimed something like this: God has a wife named
Mary, with whom he had intercourse, resulting in Jesus.
This is the distortion of the doctrine of the Trinity that Muhammad
heard. He assumed, as do many others who call Christians "tri-theists,"
that this is what we believe and teach. He may have rejected a
distortion, but Muslims reject the orthodox doctrine of the Trinity as
well. And with that, they forsake Christians' conceptual framework for
understanding the story of Jesus as the story of God. What does the
Bible teach about this matter that we say is such a dividing point with
Islam?

One God

We begin with the confession that God is One. This goes back to Deuteronomy 6:4, the famous Shema:
"Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is one." It is repeated
throughout the Old Testament. Jesus quotes it in the New Testament as
the first and greatest of all the commandments in Mark 12:29: "You shall
love the Lord your God; the Lord is One. Love the Lord with all your
heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your
strength." Jesus believed that. He taught that. It is foundational to
the Christian faith.
How did this belief arise within the faith of Israel? It arose over
against polytheism, which was rampant in the ancient world. It was a
world in which nature—animals, trees, rivers—was regarded as divine or
at least inhabited by divinities. Out of this arose the tradition of
idolatry, against which the Old Testament prophets blasted again and
again with furious power. (Muhammad too was moved by a similar concern
when he destroyed the idols of Mecca, and taught his followers, "There
is no God but Allah.")
At the same time, there are already hints in the Old Testament that God
is more complex. Just as we have foreshadowing of the Messiah, so too
in the Old Testament we have foreshadowing of the Holy Trinity.
It is there at the Creation. In the beginning, God created by speaking his word. Genesis 1:2 also notes that the ruach,
the Spirit of God, hovered over the face of the waters. When Christians
read that passage in the light of Jesus Christ, they see there a hint
of the Trinity. It is not spelled out in clarity and fullness. It took
time in God's unfolding of revelation to achieve that clarity. Not until
Jesus Christ himself came, in fact, were we able to understand it. But
it is foreshadowed there nonetheless.
Or take another example, from Proverbs. Again and again, it speaks
about God's wisdom. It says that wisdom created all things (Prov. 3:19),
treating wisdom as a personification of God himself. In the New
Testament, we find that Wisdom is one of the proper names of Jesus
Christ. Jesus has been "made unto us wisdom" (1 Cor. 1:30, KJV).
Then there are all those amazing theophanies and Christophanies. Jacob
wrestled all night with an angel, and he said the next day as he limped
along the river Jabbok, "I have seen the face of God" (Gen. 32:30, KJV).
It was not an incarnation but a revelation of the true God. Or consider
Nebuchadnezzar looking into the fiery furnace. He sees a fourth man
along with the three Hebrew children walking loose in the flames, one
who "looks like a son of the gods" (Dan. 3:25, NIV; the KJV is more
directly Christological, translating it as "as though he were the Son of
God"). These are foreshadowings in the Old Testament, but none of them
compromise the fundamental unity of God.
Christians, like Muslims, affirm the oneness of God, but they
understand that oneness not in mathematical terms (as a unit) but in
interpersonal terms (as a unity of relationship).

Allah Became Flesh?

This distinction leads us to the most basic and distinctive Christian
belief: Jesus is Lord. The Old Testament confession is "God is one." The
New Testament affirmation is "Jesus is Lord," declaring the deity of
Jesus Christ. It's not a coincidence that two key books of the Bible
start by using the same phrase:
Genesis 1:1: "In the beginning God created. … " God spoke, and worlds that were not came into being.
John 1:1: "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God,
the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning." This beginning
antedates the Incarnation. It goes beyond and before even the Creation.
It is a beginning before all other beginnings. The Greek is simple: en arche, in the primordial first principle of all things and all times, in the beginning that we can speak of as eternity—in this beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and (literally) "God was the Word." In Greek that expression is pros ton theon (face to face with God).
In John 1:18, which closes John's prologue, we read, "No one has ever
seen God, but God, the One and Only, who is at the Father's side, has
made him known" (NIV). That translation is just too weak. Here the KJV
gets closest to the original sense when it says Jesus was "in the bosom
of the Father."
"At the Father's side"? You can go to a ball game, and somebody sits
alongside you. That's a chum, that's a friend. This is not the phrase
used here. The one "who is in the bosom of the Father"—that connotes an
intimacy, a relationship, a unity that "alongside of" comes nowhere
close to. This God, the One who was with God, face to face with God, in
the bosom of the Father from all eternity—this One has made him known to
us.
In verse 14 is the linchpin of this whole passage. This one verse, more
than any other, summarizes the Christian faith. The Word that was in
the beginning with God, that was face to face with God, that was in the
bosom of the Father, this "Word was made flesh and dwelt among us (and
we beheld his glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Father),
full of grace and full of truth" (KJV).
This is what Christianity teaches: God Almighty, the one and only Allah (Allah
is simply the Arabic word for "God"), took upon himself humanity. But
not just humanity. Some translations read, "And the Word became a human
being." That's too weak. It's not deep or strong enough. No, the Word
became flesh.
Flesh is different from human being.
Flesh is that part of our human reality that is most vulnerable, that
gets sick. It gets tired. It experiences decay and death. But this is
the stupendous claim the Bible makes, and if you don't feel the absolute
horrible force of this statement, you'll never understand why orthodox
Islam finds Christianity so abhorrent: Allah became flesh. This is a
blasphemous thought to orthodox Muslims. But it's a remarkable claim
that Christianity makes.
How does this relate to the Trinity? People ask why God made the world.
Some believe he was lonely and decided that he needed something to
love, so he created the world. Some people preach that, and it's well
meant, but it is heretical.
God was never lonely. The doctrine of the Trinity says that within the
being of God from all eternity there has always existed this bond of
relationship—Father and Son and Holy Spirit, the bond of love and
unity—so God never was lonely. There has always been in the being of God
a reciprocity, a mutuality, and a dynamism of relationship, of
community, of love.
Several radical implications proceed from this. One of them—a rather
humbling one—is that we are not necessary. We are utterly unessential.
God could get along quite well without us. It doesn't boost our
self-esteem to say that, but it's true. If God had never created the
world, or indeed, if God had never redeemed the world, God would not be
any less God. He does not need us to fulfill some inner inadequacy in
his own being.
Paradoxically, this truth makes the Good News good. God has chosen
to love us, out of his own free will. He decided deliberately not to
remain a divine cocoon within himself. Instead, he chose to make a world
apart from himself, to become a part of it and take upon himself the
burden of loving it back to himself—because he wanted to, not because he
lacked something in himself.
This is the Gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ. This is the Good News that
we have to proclaim: the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ is not
a unit. The God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ is not a monad, a
sterile one-thing that exists apart from a relationship, but has a
dynamic relationship of love and reciprocity within his own being—and
that as a relational being he has reached out to us in love.
Many are familiar with George Eliot's character, Silas Marner.
Everybody thought he was poor, but he was rich. He was a miser. He kept
gold coins in a chest under his bed. And every night, before he went to
sleep, he'd take out his gold coins, count them, stroke them, and admire
them. Then he'd put them back under his bed. He never spent one. Some
people think of God that way: He hoards all his power, all his might.
He's a miser god—a Silas Marner god. This is not the God of the Bible.
The God of the Bible is a God of utter graciousness and love, who
chooses to come into our world and to experience what we have
experienced—our alienation and estrangement—and do everything necessary
to redeem and love that world back to himself.

Personal Spirit

Some people think that in the Old Testament we have God the Father, in
the New Testament God puts on the mask of the Son, and now, in the age
of the church, we have the Holy Spirit. The technical name for that
heresy is modalism, and it's widespread among Christian
believers. No, the Trinity is not three different masks that God wears
at different times in salvation history. From all eternity, before there
was a world, before there was anything else, God, the Father, Son, and
Holy Spirit, was—is—in a bond of love and unity and reciprocity and
community that exceeds our ability to comprehend and describe.
These first two Christian affirmations—God is one, and Jesus is
Lord—have been denied and doubted and fought over by Christian
theologians. In the second century, a heretic named Marcion was
excommunicated from the church. Marcion said, in effect, I like the
God of Jesus. He's a God of love; he's a God of mercy, a God of
tenderness. But I don't like the God of the Old Testament. He's a mean
God. He's a mad God. He's a God of war and violence.
So Marcion cut the Old Testament out of the Bible. But the church said, No, we're not going down that road.
It was perhaps the single most important decision made in the history
of Christian doctrine—to say that the God and Father of our Lord Jesus
Christ is the God of Israel, the God of the Old Testament, to affirm
that there is a fundamental connection between creation and redemption.
The divine lordship and the deity of Jesus Christ were denied in the
fourth century by a man named Arius. He was sincere. He was well read.
He did not deny that the Bible was true. But he said, Jesus Christ is a creature. He's higher than any other creature. But he is not God.
Arius denied that Jesus was the same essence, the same fundamental
reality, as God. At the Council of Nicea, the church had to say, No, we can't go that way either.
The one we adore and worship and love in Jesus our Redeemer is of the
same essence as the Father. We're not talking about two different gods.
We're talking about the one God, but the one God who has forever known
himself as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. This says to us that the
fundamental reality of God is relationship—it's community. If we can
ever grasp that, we'll understand what our fundamental differences are
with Islam.
The third central Christian affirmation is that the Holy Spirit is
personal. This affirmation also has had a divisive history. About 70
years after the Council of Nicea, some people said they would go along
with God the Father and God the Son, but they could not affirm that the
Holy Spirit is God—that was just too much for them. They claimed that
the Holy Spirit is a force, an energy, a power, but not God. Over
against these people, who were known as the Spirit-fighters (because
they fought against the deity of the Holy Spirit), the church declared
that God is one in essence, and three in person—Father, Son, and Holy
Spirit.
The Bible speaks of the Holy Spirit as a person. He baptizes (1 Cor.
12); he can be grieved (Eph. 4); he groans (Rom. 8). These are things a
person does, and the Holy Spirit is a person and in relation to the
Father and Son—yet one God, forever and ever.
Space constraints preclude saying much more about the place of the Holy
Spirit in the Trinity. The larger point here is simply this: God does
not exist alone—"the alone with the alone" as Arius referred to his
god—but rather exists in community, in love, in reciprocity and
mutuality. It is this God who has, of his own free will, opened his
heart to this world he has made, and who invites us to know him, to love
him, and to respond to him. He is a relational God.

Affirming The Mystery

Ultimately, we have to admit that the Trinity is a mystery. Even in eternity, we will never comprehend it. But we are called to affirm it and believe it. And we are called to hold it without compromise in a world of religious pluralism.
Let's go back to our question: Is the Father of Jesus the God of
Muhammad? The answer is surely Yes and No. Yes, in the sense that the
Father of Jesus is the only God there is. He is the Creator and
Sovereign Lord of Muhammad, Buddha, Confucius, of every person who has
ever lived. He is the one before whom all shall one day bow (Phil.
2:5-11). Christians and Muslims can together affirm many important
truths about this great God—his oneness, eternity, power, majesty. As
the Qur'an puts it, he is "the Living, the Everlasting, the All-High,
the All-Glorious" (2:256).
But the answer is also No, for Muslim theology rejects the divinity of
Christ and the personhood of the Holy Spirit—both essential components
of the Christian understanding of God. No devout Muslim can call the God
of Muhammad "Father," for this, to their mind, would compromise divine
transcendence. But no faithful Christian can refuse to confess, with joy
and confidence, "I believe in God the Father. … Almighty!" Apart from
the Incarnation and the Trinity, it is possible to know that God is, but not who God is.
Long ago, Gregory of Nyssa put it this way: "It is not the vastness of
the heavens and the bright shining of the constellations, the order of
the universe, and the unbroken administration over all existence, that
so manifestly displays the transcendent power of God as his
condescension to the weakness of our human nature, in the way sublimity
is seen in lowliness."
This does not mean that we should condemn every Muslim believer as an idolater (see "Does God Hear Muslims' Prayers?").
And we are wise to remember that sometimes the best way to address
these issues is to move from theological abstraction to story. I've
found one story from Richard Selzer's Mortal Lessons, as good as any:
I stand by the bed where a young woman lies, her face postoperative,
her mouth twisted in palsy, clownish. A tiny twig of the facial nerve,
the one to the muscles of the mouth, has been severed. She will be thus
from now on. The surgeon had followed with religious fervor the curve of
her flesh; I promise you that. Nevertheless, to remove the tumor in her
cheek, I had to cut that little nerve.
Her young husband is in the room. He stands on the opposite side of the
bed, and together they seem to dwell in the evening lamplight, isolated
from me. Who are they, I ask myself, he and this wry-mouth that I have
made, who gaze at and touch each other so generously, greedily? The
young woman speaks.
"Will my mouth always be like this?" she asks. "Yes," I say, "it will. It is because the nerve was cut."
She nods, and is silent. But the young man smiles. "I like it," he says. "It is kind of cute."
All at once, I know who he is. I understand, and I lower my gaze. One
is not bold in an encounter with a god. Unmindful, he bends to kiss her
crooked mouth, and I [am] so close I can see how he twists his own lips
to accommodate to hers, to show her that their kiss still works.
Isn't that what the Christian God is about? God was in Christ, reaching
out to us in love, accommodating himself to our condition, to save us.
This is what we are about as ambassadors of Christ and his gospel: to
go into the world, into the prisons, into the barrios and the ghettos
and wherever it is that human beings exist in alienation and separation
from God, and to tell them that the relational God is reaching out to
us, and that the kiss still works.
Timothy George is a CT executive editor and dean of Beeson Divinity School at Samford University. This article is adapted from his forthcoming book Is the Father of Jesus the God of Muhammad? (Zondervan, Spring 2002).


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