When engaging in interfaith dialogue and interreligious discourse, it is common today to look for areas of overlap or commonality between the beliefs and practices of the participants’ religious traditions. The rationale for this strategy is an attempt to build bridges, find common ground, and establish points of contact for mutually enriching discourse and peacemaking. It can also act as a foundation for shared political, social, or even theological action, as implied in the 2020 Abraham Accords and made explicit in the 20-Point Peace Plan developed to end the Israel-Hamas war in Gaza. [1] Implicitly, this approach emphasizes the shared humanity of those involved in the interfaith dialogue. Each of these aims, in and of themselves, are important contributing factors to building peaceful and stable societies, all of which are noble goals that Christians should actively support.

In the academic study of other religions, the practice of finding common ground has also become widespread, particularly in the West and particularly during 20^th century. For example, Jains, Hindus, and Buddhists all share a common belief, albeit variously defined, in both karma and yoga. For this reason, it has become commonplace to refer to these traditions collectively as karmic or yogic religions.[2] While the conceptions of karma and the methods and goals of yoga vary within each tradition, nonetheless, this seemingly “shared heritage” was and is viewed as grounds for some scholars to group them together when discussing them.

Likewise, over the past several decades, it has become commonplace to group Rabbinic Judaism, Christianity, and Islam together as “Abrahamic” traditions, religions, or faiths. [3] However, unlike the example above with Jainism, Hinduism, and Buddhism, grouping these three religious traditions together based on their shared belief in the personage of Abraham presents unique challenges. Divergent conceptions of karma or yoga can be admitted and explored, but claiming a shared heritage in a person or ancestor raises a different set of questions. For instance, does a particular tradition believe in Abraham’s historicity, and if so, what sources does that tradition use to establish what is accepted as true in the chronology of his life, his experiences of God, his actions, beliefs, his salvation-historic importance, etc.? When depictions and narratives diverge, whose version of “Abraham” is accepted as authoritative? Are those engaged in interfaith dialogue expected to ignore or smooth over different understandings of Abraham’s identity, his role in each tradition’s divergent salvation-historic stories, and pay allegiance to a tenuously defined shared heritage in Abraham? For Christians, building peaceful and stable societies is a vital and much needed endeavor, but does that endeavor necessitate describing (or presupposing) Rabbinic Judaism and Islam are “Abrahamic” faiths? Does this demonstrate true love of our Jewish and Muslim neighbors?

In the introduction to his edited volume, Medieval Exegesis and Religious Difference, Ryan Spziech notes that the currently fashionable idea of Abraham as “a shared theological ancestor” ignores the fact that no writer from any of the three religions prior to the twentieth century would have assumed a common theological heritage in this regard. Moreover, the assumption itself privileges a particularly Islamic view of prophetic history. In Islam’s rendition, “Abraham is the founder of a tradition that includes Judaism and Christianity but that is completed and corrected only by the advent of Islam.”[4] In other words, the theological foundation for a shared heritage in Abraham between Rabbinic Judaism, Christianity, and Islam is an essential part of Islam’s narrative and is used to establish its legitimacy. However, prior to the 20^th century, neither Jews nor Christians would have viewed Islam as a co-heir of some ethereal “Abrahamic” tradition.[5]

In answering the question of whether Christians should consider Rabbinic Judaism and Islam as “Abrahamic” faiths, it is important simultaneously to ask if there are biblical grounds for doing so. After all, most adherents of these two religious traditions reject Jesus as Messiah, Prophet, Priest, King, Savior, the unique Son of God, etc.[6] Moreover, Christians should ask themselves, “do our Jewish and Muslim friends even know God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who said to Philip, ‘Whoever has seen me has seen the Father’” (John 14:9)?[7] Christians who promote the use of “Abrahamic” as a label for Rabbinic Judaism, Christianity, and Islam must reconcile that position with the following cursory survey of New Testament teaching about Abraham and the Abrahamic promises: [8]

In summary, the above survey of verses seems to indicate that, according to the New Testament, faith in Jesus is the hallmark of true “Abrahamic” faith.

Indeed, upon closer inspection, Rabbinic Judaism, Christianity, and Islam each believe in different Abrahams. Among the reasons for this are the divergent texts and traditions that shape Abraham’s theological importance in each faith’s story of salvation history. In the case of Rabbinic Judaism, after the destruction of the temple in AD 70, non-Christian Jews came to hold a central role for what became known as the Oral Torah (i.e., the Mishnah). Over time, the Mishnah came to constitute the centerpiece of Jewish law in the two Talmuds. Moreover, multiple extra-canonical texts and traditions, like Midrash, came to shape the “Rabbinic Abraham.” Despite areas of continuity, when evaluated collectively, all these texts and traditions extend beyond the descriptions and accounts of Abraham in the Hebrew Bible (i.e., the Old Testament. Thus, in the final assessment, the Abraham of Rabbinic Judaism is not the Abraham of biblical Christianity.

Likewise, in accompaniment to the over 60 references to Abraham (i.e., Ibrahim) in the Qur’an, Muslim scholars, over time, complemented his qur’anic depiction with narrative material authored in the biographies of Muhammad (i.e., the sira). This development aided Muslims in their theological and salvation-historic appropriation of Abraham. For Muslims, Abraham is understood as the quintessential hanif (i.e., an “original monotheist”), and the religion of Abraham (din Ibrahim or “the religion of Abraham”) is equivalent to Islam. Muslims also appropriated Ishmael as the father of all Arabs (or Arabic-speaking tribes), even though the notion of a unified “Arab” identity connected to Abraham via Ishmael likely developed in the 4^th century AD.[9] The theological result of Islam’s appropriation of Abraham was the development of a prototypical “Abrahamic” notion of prophethood. This notion was then projected onto Islam’s antitypical prophet, Muhammad (and all prior “biblical prophets”). Buttressing this theological development was the development of a genealogy that connected Muhammad to Abraham via Ishmael. Additional development took place in the ?adith, [10] works of Islamic history, and authoritative Qur’an commentaries, which, over time, continued to expand on the picture of the “Muslim Abraham,” or, more precisely, “Abraham the Muslim.”[11] Thus, in the final assessment, the Abraham of Islam is not the Abraham of biblical Christianity.

Imagine if Paul were to hear that followers of Jesus today consider those who do not recognize him as Lord and Savior as having “Abrahamic” faith? One might imagine Paul “opposing them to their faces” as he did Peter concerning table fellowship with non-Jewish Christians (cf. Gal 2:11; Acts 10–11, 15). Fortunately, we have Paul’s probable response in the epistle to the Galatians: “Now the promises were made to Abraham and his offspring. It does not say ‘offsprings,’ referring to many, but referring to one, ‘And to your offspring,’ who is Christ…And if you are Christ’s, then you are Abraham’s offspring, heirs according to promise” (Gal 3:16, 29 cf. also Gen 12:1–3; 18:18; 22:18; 26:4; 28:14).

In conclusion, Christians should be actively involved in interfaith dialogue and peacemaking with their Jewish and Muslim neighbors, especially in the Middle East. Indigenous Middle Eastern Christians, especially in Palestine and Israel, play a particularly indispensable role in this regard. They are often at the forefront of combating religious violence and advocating non-coercive and non-violent means of peacemaking; they are literally the “salt of the earth.” That said, labeling Rabbinic Judaism and Islam “Abrahamic” faiths may be an expedient way to signal a connection with our Jewish and Muslim neighbors; nonetheless, we do our friends a disservice when we adopt or promote a non-biblical narrative regarding Abraham’s importance to these three religious traditions. Moreover, downplaying or avoiding the substantive interpretive differences and conflicting narratives surrounding the various Abrahams offers a faulty foundation for true understanding, love of neighbor, and peacemaking. Disagreeing can (and should) be done in a manner that demonstrates kindness, respect, and honesty. Under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, encounters with Jews and Muslims can provide Christians opportunities to explain to our friends the true story of Abraham’s significance in salvation history. That story points to Jesus and all those who exercise faith in him as fellow heirs of the Abrahamic promises regardless of ethnicity, language, culture, gender, socio-economic status, location, or any other identity marker (cf. Gal 3:28).