by Paul L Maier
Abbas reached for a copy of the Qur’an lying on the table, picked it up, and said, “I read from Sura-that is, chapter 2, verse 106: ‘Whatever communications we abrogate or cause to be forgotten, we bring one better than it or like it. Do you not know that Allah has power over all things?’ Clearly, then, the later statements of Allah in the Qur’an replace the earlier statements in every point of perceived disagreement.”
Applause broke out in the eastern half of the sanctuary, which was promptly silenced by the moderators.
“However, there is no disagreement in the Holy Qur’an that Jesus escaped death on the cross. No, not at all. Again I read, this time from Sura 4:57: ‘They killed him not, nor crucified him, but so it was made to appear to them, and those who differ therein are full of doubts with no certain knowledge… for of a surety they killed him not.’ Do you see, Professor Weber, the historical references that you cite thought Jesus had been crucified-‘so it was made to appear to them.’ Allah would never have permitted his faithful servant Isa to endure this. God would not allow any of his prophets to be killed.
“And now to Jesus and Muhammad-two great prophets. You seemed to deny that Muhammad could perform miracles. But our hadith-our traditions-tell us that once when the Prophet was asked, ‘Why don’t you do miracles as did Jesus?’ he responded by holding his thumb and index finger around the full moon, then passing his other index finger through the middle of the orb, and half the moon fell east of Mecca, and the other half fell to the west. No, I don’t believe that this physically happened, but the miracle is that bystanders saw exactly that-which is a miracle. And what of the Prophet’s miraculous midnight ride from Mecca to Jerusalem and up to heaven and back?”
Good heavens! Jon thought to himself. Can Abbas really believe all that-this rare voice of Muslim moderation? And yet if I poke fun at such credulity, the place will go up in flames. He must just be trying to please his own right wing. That, in fact, seemed to be the case, since Abbas hurried on to the next point. “How shall I respond to my colleague’s concerns as to how sharia law is being applied today and how women have been treated in Islam? I would ask you all to prepare for a shock… I agree with him! Yes, I agree with him!”
Amid rumblings of surprise, he declared, “The words of the Prophet-may his name be blessed-have been followed too literally by some in the world of Islam, who forget that he was often speaking to followers in very difficult military situations, rather than laying down rules to be observed at all times and places. This is no more and no less than the same problems Christians have with how they interpret some of the words of Jesus, who also often spoke harshly. He said, for example, ‘If your eye offend you, pluck it out!’ I sincerely hope that no Christian would be insane enough to take that advice literally.
“And so, I would like to close this phase of our discussion on an irenic note: Professor Weber and I have much in common, since we both oppose any hateful fanaticism in religion that would lead believers to think that violence is obedience to Allah’s, to God’s, commands. It is not!
“Thank you, ladies and gentlemen.”
Both sides of the sanctuary now joined in spirited applause, which grew even louder after Jon and Abbas shook hands.
It was now noon, and time for lunch.
In order to avoid the press and the crowds, Click, Clack, and a detail from the CIA and the Turkish special police escorted Jon, Shannon, Richard, and Osman through a small exit in the southern apse of Hagia Sophia and into several black Mercedes sedans. They were whisked eastward around the basilica and into the gates of the Topkapi Palace grounds, where walking tourists parted ranks to let them drive by. Stopping at the eastern end of the enclave, they descended a steep flight of stairs to the Konyali Topkapi restaurant and its beautiful view overlooking the Bosporus. Here they all sat down at outdoor tables in an area separated from the rest of the restaurant terrace.
Osman and Dick were ebullient over the first half of the debate. Ferris, in fact, gave Jon a big hug and ordered champagne. Shannon was finally smiling again too, though she voiced her apprehension over the fanatic who had yelled his hatred inside the basilica. Kemet Bankasi, one of their Turkish liaisons, overheard her and said, “Again, we’re very sorry about that. He turned out to be a young student from Bodrum who is studying under a radical cleric there.”
“But how did he ever get a seat so near the front?” Dick Ferris asked.
“That’s still a mystery. He wouldn’t tell police, but it could be as simple as using a chair that was unoccupied for some reason. We thought we had screened everyone properly, but-well, one in eight thousand isn’t a bad average, is it?”
They all chuckled.
In discussing strategy for the afternoon, the talk was so spirited that they barely noticed the delicious seafood luncheon the chef had specially prepared. Jon passed on the champagne, since he wanted to keep all his wits in gear for rounds three and four.
Ferris’s cell phone rang, and he excused himself from the table. Minutes later, he returned, wearing a big grin. “The debate won’t air in the States until 3 p.m. our time, which is 8 a.m. Eastern time in the U.S. But Europe’s just an hour behind, and the BBC is reporting a huge audience. They even set up big projection screens at various points in London-Waterloo Station, Trafalgar Square, St. Paul’s-you name it. The same with Television Francaise. And at the Reichstag in Berlin, they even suspended a morning meeting of the Bundesrat so all could watch.”
“No riots so far?” Jon asked almost timidly.
“Not that I’ve heard.” Then he added, impishly, “And that’s all due, of course, to the high plane on which the debate is taking place.”
“Well, we’ll change all that this afternoon. That’s when we take our gloves off, so prepare for fireworks!”
“Jon…” Shannon’s plaintive tone was corrective enough.
“Just hyperbole, dear,” he soothed. Though maybe not, he mused.
By 2 p.m., all had reseated themselves inside the immense basilica, having lunched at hundreds of different eateries in the heart of Istanbul. Although Jon half expected the audience to diminish-who watched all-day debates anymore?-this time it was the opposite. Even the crowds outside had swelled. All seemed to know that the fun was about to begin. This would be the open, free, unstructured segment of the debate, in which the moderators promised to intervene as little as possible. Abbas, Jon, Bartholomew, and Selim had reminded one another of that agreement moments before the debate resumed, and the moderators opened the afternoon half of the debate by reminding the audience of that arrangement as well.
Again, Abbas al-Rashid seemed interested in starting off. “Dr. Weber, your explanation of the Christian Trinity is interesting in terms of how you illustrated it with the sun, or gold, or whatever, but I find it less than convincing. Please, once again, kindly explain how one can equal three. The word Trinity is not even in your Bible.”
The Trinity again, Jon reflected, then replied, “You are absolutely correct, Dr. al-Rashid. The term was first used by our church father Tertullian, but it faithfully reflects both the unity of God as well as his ‘plurality’ as Creator, Savior, and Sanctifier, qualities that we find all over the Old and New Testaments.”
Jon went on to cite the appropriate passages, then marshaled the traditional and philosophical evidence Christians have always used. The bottom line, in any case, was that mathematics alone stands as a warning sign that-unless one equals three-humanity, this side of eternity, cannot hope to probe the essence of God who is dimensionally different from his creation. “But permit me, honored Imam, to deal with the most significant problem that Christians have with Islam. It is so basic that all the other difficulties we find become secondary to this one.”
“Indeed? I look forward to hearing it!”
“And that, of course, is the role of Jesus and what happened to him in Jerusalem on the day we call Good Friday. To deny his crucifixion flies in the face of all historical evidence. You explained that as best you could
, by claiming that ‘it was made to appear’ that he was on the cross. This, however, will simply not do. It would have required something of a mass hallucination on the part of all bystanders at Golgotha-which was not possible. And what about the Roman executioners? The Romans were grimly efficient when it came to executions: no one escaped.”
“With Allah, everything is possible. But you, worthy Professor, claimed that there are no records stating that Jesus did not die by crucifixion, other than that Basilides person. I fear you are mistaken on that point. The Gospel of Barnabas reports that someone else took Jesus’ place on the day of crucifixion and that Jesus escaped death. Now, the-”
“Honored Sheikh, The Gospel of Barnabas is a medieval forgery! It has no historical value whatever.”
“Well, perhaps a forgery based on facts, on a true secret tradition of what actually happened.”
Jon simply shook his head. “As I recall, one reason you deny Jesus’ crucifixion was because God would not allow such a punishment for one of his faithful prophets. Well, there we have a problem. Quite a few of God’s prophets have indeed suffered and died for his sake despite their faithfulness. Elijah had to run for his life, Jeremiah was cast into a pit, Zechariah was stoned to death, and John the Baptist was beheaded.”
“Well, Jesus was perhaps a favorite son among the prophets. In any case, you Christians have been fearfully wrong in turning him into a god, when there is no God but God.”
“What about Jesus’ own claims to deity?”
“He never made them. This is only another example of how your Scriptures have been corrupted, or, to phrase it better, an example of how errors have intruded into their texts when manuscripts were recopied. In fact, here is what Jesus did say on this subject.” Abbas picked up his Qur’an, paged through it, and said: “Here it is. I quote from Sura 5:116: “Then God will say, ‘Jesus, son of Mary, did you ever say to mankind, “Worship me and my mother as gods besides God”?’ Jesus will answer, ‘Glory be to You. I could never have claimed what I have no right to. If I had ever said so, You would surely have known it… I told them only what You bade me. I said, “Serve God, my Lord and your Lord.”’”
Al-Rashid closed the book and looked directly at Jon.
Jon again shook his head and said, “Jesus would never, ever have said, ‘Worship my mother and me as gods.’ This drastically violates everything we know regarding his relationship with his mother, Mary, and so-”
“So you agree with me, then?”
“No, I do not. In his ministry, Jesus took great care to distance himself somewhat from his mother, most probably so that any worship of his mother would never take place. Accordingly, God could never have asked a question like that.”
“But the Holy Qur’an says that God will ask Jesus this question.”
“And our Holy Bible shows that it would be utterly impossible for God to ask Jesus a question like that, especially in view of everything we know about God, Jesus, and Mary from the pages of the New Testament.”
“So, then, you also deny that Jesus ever said or ever would say what the Holy Qur’an plainly states are his very words?”
“Yes, I simply must deny that Jesus ever said, or ever would say, the words that you quoted.”
“Then are you calling the Prophet-may his name be blessed-a liar ?”
“No-” Jon started to reply but was forced to pause as loud, agitated murmuring arose from the crowd. He raised his voice a bit. “No, I would never call him a liar. Muhammad did not write down those words himself, since he could neither read nor write. They were first written down-as the Qur’an-under his successor Caliph Uthman twenty years after his death. How can we be sure that those were the actual words of the Prophet?”
This prompted an even louder drone of disapproval until silence returned when the crowd seemed eager to hear Abbas’s response.
“It is an article of faith in Islam that they actually were the Prophet’s words-may his name be blessed. And certainly the same could be said about the words of Jesus in the Gospels. He never wrote them down.”
“This is true enough, Dr. al-Rashid. But the overwhelming evidence of the different followers of Jesus who wrote down his words is consistent in reporting what he said. Many were eyewitnesses. The same cannot be said for a source six centuries after Jesus.”
Silence followed. It was a very powerful argument, not because Jon had come up with it, but because it was simple, logical, historical fact.
Finally Abbas responded, “I must prefer the true and final revelation of God himself in the Holy Qur’an against that of human beings, whether they wrote as eyewitnesses or were removed even thousands of years from what they reported.”
Jon waited out the inevitable applause from the Muslim half of the audience, then replied, “I respect you for your faith, worthy Imam.” He suppressed what he wanted to add: even though no historian in the world would agree with you. What he did add was: “And I trust that you will respect mine.”
The moderators rang a bell, indicating that it was time for the midafternoon break. Both sides of the sanctuary offered applause, clearly enthusiastic enough to exceed what was merely routine or polite.
Jon’s luncheon group, along with their detail from the Turkish police and the CIA, retired to what would have been the green room in any other public venue, but at Hagia Sophia it had to be a robing room in the apse of the basilica. More than anything else, Jon wanted to hear Osman al-Ghazali’s reaction to the afternoon debate, thus far. As a convert from Islam, his opinions were of utmost importance.
“Brilliant defense of the faith, Jon,” he opened. “And you really scored some potent points against Islam. By the way, it seems that most of the national television networks in the Muslim countries are making use of Al Jazeera’s feed from their big camera crew in the east balcony.”
“Great. But why are you frowning?”
“Oh, was it that noticeable? Well, I’m… just a little concerned…” His voice trailed off.
“Concerned about…?”
“Well, during the debate, I’ve been watching the other side very carefully, particularly several of their well-known mullahs whom I recognized, sitting near the front. Some Shiites were there too. One, in fact, was Ayatollah al-Kazim from Tehran, not the one who laid a fatwa on your head, but his lieutenant. And then there was Imam Chasbullah, who evidently came all the way from Indonesia, Amir Ahmad Riza Khan from Pakistan too. Among the Sunnis there were several princes from the royal family in Saudi Arabia, as well as a big Egyptian delegation-mainly faculty colleagues of al-Rashid. But I digress. My concern is this: every time you scored a debating point against Islam, I watched their reaction. We’re talking narrowing of the eyes, clenching fists, and corrugated foreheads. Lots of frowning, too.”
“You mean they weren’t exactly applauding me?” Jon quipped with a wink to Shannon that was intended to forestall any worry on her part.
“Well, put it this way: I wouldn’t want to break bread with any of them afterward.”
“Hadn’t really planned to, Osman.” Jon looked up. “Uh-oh, here comes Ferris with that cell phone molded to his left ear.”
“Hi, team,” he said. “Our debate’s been on for an hour now in the States. It’s replacing the morning shows on NBC and CBS, with ABC cutting in from time to time on Good Morning America. CNN is covering everything from gavel to gavel, but with a commentary team that’s half-Christian and half-Muslim.”
“Excellent!” Jon said. “I’ll bet watching that would be more fun than the actual debate!”
“Yeah, but-” Ferris’s face fell a bit-“the NBC studios at Rockefeller Center received a bomb threat from someone who called in with a Middle Eastern accent.”
Shannon bit her lip and glanced at Jon with a look that all but shouted, I knew something like this would happen!
“What are they doing about it?” Osman wondered.
“Well, they have to take it seriously, of course,” Ferris replied, “but that sort of thing i
s quite routine nowadays, unfortunately.”
“We have to go back shortly,” Jon said. “Any further advice, Osman?”
“Just beware of any traps that al-Rashid may try to set for you. If you’re caught in one, he could win the debate. I’d only suggest that you continue walking that tightrope, Jon. You have to defend the faith, of course, but try to do it as diplomatically as you can-”
“Without enraging the other side. Got it, Osman.” Blasted restraint, he almost muttered. How I’d love to cut loose!
On the way back to the dais, Jon weighed the obvious. They were now on the last lap. What if he got tired-or impatient-and let his guard down? One ill-chosen phrase, evidently, could ignite the Islamic world. Again that dreadful double standard: Curse Christ as much as you wish in the West, or draw caricatures of his church, or place a crucifix in a pan of urine and call it art (duly funded by the government), and you easily get away with it. Try the same with Islam or Muhammad and you’re dead!
Just before stepping onto the dais, Jon looked at row ten on the Christian side of the sanctuary, because it seemed to be filled with Roman collars. And on the aisle, whom should he see but the wonderfully familiar face of Kevin F. X. Sullivan, “my personal ambassador to the Vatican,” Jon often told friends. He immediately walked over, and they exchanged several slaps on the back.
“And what brings you to Istanbul, Kev?” Jon asked. “Converting to Eastern Orthodoxy, are you?”
“Right! But only when you return to Mother Church, Jon. The Holy Father sends you his blessings.”
“And mine to him, Kev. Gotta run. What’re you doing for dinner?”
“No special plans.”
“Great! We’re at the Hilton. Say 7 p.m.?”
Before Kevin could answer, Jon had to return to the dais. But he looked back and saw his friend flashing a thumbs-up sign.
The moderators now announced that the same, freewheeling dialogue would govern the final session of the debate, with a minimum of their interference. Applause actually broke out at that point, which both the patriarch and the primate took graciously.
