It might seem outrageous to suggest that the West needed the events we now know as September 11, 2001, a moment when the symbols of modern capitalism and power were attacked by Islamic terrorists. If only we could have seen past the event, as horrific as it was, to ask ‘why?’.

But, as if obeying Newton’s Third Law of Motion – every action creates an equal and opposite reaction – violent action is invariably responded to with an equally opposing reaction. We in the West mobilised for ‘The War on Terror’ – despite massive popular peace protests.

A year or so earlier, at Flinders University in South Australia, having embarked on a journey inviting those of other faiths to join the Christian chaplaincy, perhaps we were in a better position than most to talk about it.

The religious question seemed to be, ‘How could such an atrocity be perpetrated in the name of God? Or is the God of Islam not the same as the Christian God? Do we worship the same God?’

Clearly not, if the Islamic terrorists were being faithful to their God!

And so, reactionary attacks on mosques and intimidation of those who could be identified as Muslim.

Yet we as a multi-faith group had begun to conclude through our openness and friendship that the same sacred spirit was behind each of our belief systems. Perhaps because of our various circumstances in life we had taken different views of the same reality. Each of us could see that our traditions were not blameless.

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Biblical scholar, Norman Habel, has recently been pointing out that there seem to be different Gods in the Bible.

Acknowledgement of the Land and Faith of Aboriginal Custodians After Following the Abraham Trail’. Norman Habel. (Morning Star Publishing. 2018)

Abraham, the patriarch of Jews, Christians and Muslims, knew God as ‘El’. Understandings derived from Abraham’s migrant experiences allowed Abraham to worship with the local indigenous High Priest, Melchizedek. They shared common non-possessive values, respect, honour, generosity and fairness. Hospitality to the stranger was embedded in their cultures.

Later in Biblical history, the prophet Moses is introduced to another God, whose name is transcribed for us as Jahweh. Jahweh will liberate the Hebrew slaves captive in Egypt, and lead them to a ‘Promised Land’. This will ultimately be effected by the commander Joshua, engaging in extermination of local indigenous tribes. This legend is fundamental to the core of Jewish identity as a ‘Chosen People’.

I had always thought, as a Christian, that because Jesus was a Jew, the God Jesus called ‘Father’ was Jahweh. But how could such a violent, ‘one-eyed’ Jahweh-God be compatible with the record we have of Jesus, the one who elevated love to the highest value?

Maybe that was what Jesus was sorting out with Moses and Elijah at the top of the mountain, described in the Bible readings coming up soon – the Sunday we reflect on as ‘The Transfiguration’. Maybe God has always been ‘the spirit of love behind the cosmos’. And maybe that’s why the Gospel writer has Jesus come down from the mountain after the ‘heavenly’ discussion, to be among the everyday people and to heal a child.

But maybe I have my own prejudicial blind spots too!