A Letter to My Muslim Friend

In my research and study in Christian Muslim relationships, I have been studying with other Christians and Muslims the images of Jesus in the Bible and the Qur’an, and the interesting conversation between these “two Jesus'”. Recently, we ended our study together where we all had to write a long essay with the same title: “Jesus as Bridge and Gulf in Christian Muslim Understanding.” I had the opportunity to read the marvelous essay of one my Muslim classmates, Jamal, on the very same topic I wrote on. I wanted to share with you a letter I wrote to him in response. Please feel free to provide helpful comments and questions. Negative comments will not be accepted.
Dear Jamal,
As the closing exercise in our course, I wanted to engage with you on your extraordinary essay. Your perspective as a Muslim, with your own history that has formed you in the faith in a unique way, struck me deeply. I also heard another unsaid bridge between us, the “frustration” that we all feel in our separation, and the struggle to understand what this gulf really means. If the end is not about removing the gulf, if it is mixture of both, and may always be, what is the meaning of this gulf? What are our expectations of each other because of this gulf? Perhaps the “bridges” have something to teach us in this regard.
I appreciated very much your approach to the theme we were all given. You do not mince words. You speak of what “divinity” means as at the heart of the gulf. At the same time, our mutual love for Mary and Jesus is palpable and that in itself is marvelous. I would also add our love for all the prophets, along with Abraham, Moses, Noah, and others, which the Qur’an highly esteems. For us Christians, we tend to insulate ourselves in our own tradition, and not appreciate fully the Jewish roots we come from and how integral the Hebrew prophets are to our belief in Christ.
The emotionalism of that gulf you also illustrated in the polemics of our faith traditions and the high stakes involved: in order to connect with each other we must mutually “go against” to some degree, what we traditionally understand as being faithful followers of our traditions.  I loved the quote from the Turkish scholar you shared who exclaimed that the Christians were never successful in clarifying the trinity! He is right, even to ourselves, which I think is one reason the theology of the trinity disappeared from Christian spirituality for centuries. Today, there is a revival in cosmological Christology.
Thank you too for your own personal story as a Muslim in the United States, your roots in both Christianity and black American Islam, and where you have gone since. In the diversity of your own family history, I can see where your metaphor is enlivened: Jesus as an island, with other faiths and traditions surrounding bodies of land, seeking a way to cross over to each other. The one jewel I want to take away was your remark about how you feel as a Muslim about Jesus, about how you feel a greater infinity to Mary, and your image of Jesus as the “Boy next door, the kid with the famous mother and all the cool toys!” As you say, motherhood is universal, and certainly Muslims and Christians are shaped by a mother’s love.
When faced with this gulf, I think we require a tenacious, stubborn spirit built through dialogue and understanding, to remain there together with each other, not to move, not to jump to conclusions too quickly, not to look for shortcuts that side track us. We do not have to agree to love and respect one another, and that is the place that holds our gaze to each other. Our gulfs are a fodder of possibilities and hope that need to be slowly mined, with patience, and quiet endurance. In the end, for me, it is more about transforming ourselves than it is others. In fact, we have no power to change anyone but ourselves. We then see the gulf differently, not as a threat, but as an opportunity.
It was a pleasure engaging with you Jamal in this course, may God always bless you and your family!
Fr. Carl Chudy, SX