From Abraham to Moses and Jesus, and finally to Muhammad, the message echoed from Mecca to Mount Hira and Medina: "There is only one God, Allah." What can humanity surrender itself to?
At the end of the Christian narrative, we returned to Galilee. After 2,000 years, Christianity still asks if it is loving, ultimately reconnecting with the question Jesus first posed: "Whom do you love?"
About 600 years later, another voice began to emerge from the Arabian desert, far south of Galilee. This time, it called for humanity to relinquish its arrogance before speaking of love. It urged people to look beyond numerous idols and tribal gods to a single deity, and to turn their attention not only to the wealthy and powerful but also to the poor, orphans, widows, and the weak.
This voice belonged to Muhammad.
The God he preached was not new. From the Islamic perspective, this God is the same as the God of Abraham, Moses, and Jesus, referred to in Arabic as 'Allah.' The Quran repeatedly mentions Abraham, Moses, and Jesus as significant prophets, teaching that Muhammad is part of this prophetic tradition.
While Judaism speaks of covenant, Christianity speaks of love. Islam, however, asks humanity again: What can you surrender yourself to?
The Desert, Tribes, and Mecca
Religion may seem to originate from the heavens, but it is always born from concrete history on the ground. Islam is no exception. In the late 6th century, when Muhammad was born, the Arabian Peninsula did not have a powerful unified state; it was home to various tribes living based on kinship and alliances. Tribes served as both a protective barrier for individuals and a condition for survival, leading to competition and conflicts over water and grazing land in the harsh desert environment.
However, Arabia was not entirely cut off from civilization. To the north lay the Byzantine Empire and the Sasanian Persian Empire, and trade routes connecting Syria, Yemen, East Africa, and the Indian Ocean were active.
At the heart of these routes was Mecca.
Mecca housed the Kaaba, the site toward which Muslims around the world pray today. Even before Islam, the Kaaba was an important sanctuary for various Arabian tribes, surrounded by numerous idols. As pilgrimage and trade converged, Mecca grew into both a religious space and a commercial hub.
And in that city, a child was born.
Muhammad.
From Orphan to Merchant
Muhammad did not enjoy the protection of his parents during his childhood. According to tradition, his father died before he was born, and his mother passed away when he was young. He was raised under the care of his grandfather and uncle.
Growing up as an orphan is significant for understanding his teachings. The Quran repeatedly instructs to protect orphans, the poor, travelers, and those in need, and to share one's wealth.
As he grew, Muhammad engaged in commerce and worked in trade. He later married Khadijah, a wealthy merchant, who was not only his wife but also one of the first to believe in and support him during his religious experiences, remembered in Islamic tradition as the first believer.
However, amid the prosperity of the commercial city of Mecca, Muhammad began to see another reality. Wealth was increasing, but it was not distributed fairly; the power and wealth of tribes determined human value, and orphans, the poor, and the unprotected were easily pushed to the margins of society.
Why do humans live this way? If God exists, what does He demand of humanity? What should wealth and power mean in human life?
With these questions in mind, Muhammad is said to have occasionally retreated from Mecca to reflect alone.
He sought refuge in the cave of Mount Hira.
"Read!"
Around 610, when Muhammad was about 40 years old, he received his first revelation through the angel Gabriel in the cave of Hira.
This beginning is symbolized by a single word.
"Read!"
This command holds special significance in the history of Islamic civilization, as it marks the first revelation received in the desert, emphasizing the importance of literacy, knowledge, recitation, and education.
Muhammad did not claim to be God or the son of God. He understood himself as a human delivering God's message, a prophet and messenger.
The message he conveyed was simple yet powerful: There is one God, and there is no deity but Allah. Humans must relinquish their arrogance before Him, and both the rich and the poor, the strong and the weak, ultimately stand before the same God.
This was the beginning of Islam.
Is Allah a New God?
For Koreans, the term 'Allah' may sometimes sound like a unique name for the Islamic God, but in Arabic, it simply means God, referring to the one true God. Arabic-speaking Christians also refer to God as Allah.
However, the theological understandings of God in Judaism, Christianity, and Islam differ. Particularly regarding Jesus, Christianity and Islam diverge significantly. While Christianity confesses Jesus as the Christ and the Son of God, Islam respects Jesus as a very important prophet and Messiah but does not view him as God or the Son of God. The Quran features Jesus and his mother Mary prominently, but the understanding of Jesus' divinity and crucifixion differs from that of Christianity.
Thus, sharing the Abrahamic tradition does not mean that the theologies of these three religions are the same.
From the same root, three distinct branches have grown.
Judaism has followed its path centered on the covenant with Abraham and Moses, Christianity opened a new path by confessing Jesus as the Christ, and Islam has come to understand itself as restoring and completing the pure monotheism of Abraham. The Quran presents Abraham as a key model of monotheism, and the Kaaba in Mecca is connected to the stories of Abraham and his son Ishmael in Islamic tradition.
Therefore, our journey of "Spiritual Asia" from Judaism through Christianity to Islam is not a visit to three unrelated religions in succession.
It is a journey following three great streams that have branched from the ancient well of Abraham.
The Quran: A Book to Read and Listen To
If the Bible is central to Christianity and the Torah to Judaism, the Quran is central to Islam. However, understanding the Quran as a book in the same way as the Christian Bible makes it difficult to grasp the Islamic view of scripture.
For Muslims, the Quran is not a book written by Muhammad to organize his religious thoughts. In Islamic belief, the Quran is the word revealed by Allah to Muhammad through Gabriel. The revelations did not come down in the form of a completed book at once; they were revealed over time during Muhammad's prophetic mission, recited, recorded, and transmitted to form the Quran.
The term 'Quran' itself is connected to 'recitation' or 'reading.' Thus, the Quran is both a book to read with the eyes and a word to listen to with the ears. Today, Muslims around the world recite the Quran in Arabic, and even those whose native language is not Arabic memorize its verses in Arabic. While translation plays an important role in understanding the meaning, the Arabic original holds a special status in Islamic tradition.
The Quran consists of 114 surahs, or chapters, each made up of verses called ayahs. The arrangement is not chronological like we are accustomed to in history books or biographies, which may seem unfamiliar to first-time readers.
However, it contains a recurring grand theme: There is one God, humans are responsible beings, there will be a final judgment, and one must not overlook the poor and the weak, and humans must relinquish their arrogance.
Abraham, Moses, Jesus, and Muhammad
As one reads the Quran, familiar names appear for those who have studied Judaism and Christianity: Adam, Noah, Abraham, Ishmael, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph, Moses, David, Solomon, John the Baptist, Jesus, and Mary.
Here, the unique historical perspective of Islam is revealed. From the Islamic viewpoint, God did not speak only once to humanity but sent prophets throughout the ages, and humans received God's will through them. Muhammad is understood as the last prophet in this long lineage.
Thus, in Islam's self-understanding, it is not a completely new faith that suddenly emerged in the 7th century but a religion that reaffirms and completes the original path of monotheism that has been passed down from Adam through Abraham, Moses, and Jesus.
Of course, Judaism and Christianity do not accept this interpretation of Islam as it is.
Recognizing this difference is essential. The starting point for interfaith dialogue is not to claim that all religions are the same but to accurately understand what is similar and what is different.
Tolerance is not erasing differences.
It is respecting the freedom and dignity of others while acknowledging those differences.
The Response from Mecca
The statement "There is only one God" may sound like a simple religious proposition to us today, but at that time in Mecca, it posed a challenge to the existing order. Various tribal idols and traditions coexisted around the Kaaba, intertwined with religious, tribal honor, social relations, and economic interests.
Moreover, Muhammad's message did not stop at merely rejecting idols. He taught that the wealthy should not live solely for their own wealth, that they must care for orphans and share with the poor, and that they must be accountable for their actions before the final judgment.
If humans must take responsibility for their lives before God, then money, tribe, and power cannot determine human value.
This was the moment when a religious message became a social question.
Conflicts deepened between the powerful in Mecca and Muhammad's community, and early believers faced pressure and persecution. However, faith did not disappear.
Hijra: A Community Born from Departure
In 622, Muhammad and his followers left Mecca for Yathrib, later known as Medina, meaning "the city of the Prophet."
This event is known as the Hijra. It was not merely an escape but a significant event that opened a new era in Islamic history, and today the Islamic calendar begins with this Hijra.
Interestingly, the history of Abrahamic religions features a recurring theme of 'departure.' Abraham left his homeland, Moses and the Hebrews left Egypt, and Jesus' disciples departed from Jerusalem to the world. Muhammad left Mecca for Medina.
The history of spirituality is sometimes a history of departure. Without leaving the familiar, one cannot encounter a new world.
In Medina, Muhammad was no longer just the leader of a persecuted small faith community. He became a leader responsible for guiding a religious community, mediating social conflicts, and addressing political and military issues.
Here, Islam took a different historical path from early Christianity. Jesus did not establish a state or command an army, and early Christianity grew outside state power for a long time. In contrast, Muhammad led a society where the religious and political communities were intertwined during his lifetime.
This difference becomes one of the significant historical backgrounds for how Christianity and Islam later understood the relationship between religion and state, faith and law, and religious authority and political power.
And it is at this point that the next great question arises.
When a community following God's will gains power, how should that power be used?
Ummah: A Community Beyond Bloodlines
In Medina, an important concept took shape as a concrete community: 'Ummah.' In tribal societies, human identity heavily relied on kinship, determining protection, honor, and survival based on one's tribe.
However, the Islamic community began to forge a new bond that was not solely based on bloodlines. People of the same faith formed a community and established relationships of mutual responsibility. This was a significant change within the tribal order of Arabia at the time.
Yet, the Ummah is also a human-made community. As the community grows, leadership becomes necessary, and with leadership comes power. When power arises, questions emerge about who should lead, what constitutes legitimate power, and how faith and politics should relate.
While Muhammad was alive, his authority was central. But what would happen after he passed away?
This question would later lead to the historical division between Sunni and Shia in Islam. That is a story for another time.
The Five Pillars: Faith in Daily Life
Islam is not merely a religion of ideas. Faith must manifest in concrete actions, symbolized by the Five Pillars of Islam.
The first is the Shahada, the declaration of faith: There is no god but Allah, and Muhammad is His messenger. This short statement encapsulates the essence of Islamic belief.
The second is Salah, the prayer. Muslims pray five times a day facing the Kaaba in Mecca. Kings, the wealthy, and workers all bow in the same direction, a physical reminder that no matter how high one's status, there is a higher being.
The third is Zakat, the obligation to give charity. It is a duty to share a portion of one's wealth with those in need, emphasizing that property is not solely one's own but carries social responsibility within faith.
The fourth is Sawm, the fasting during Ramadan. Muslims abstain from food and drink during daylight hours, exercising self-control and reflecting on the suffering of the poor and the limitations of humanity.
The fifth is Hajj, the pilgrimage to Mecca. Muslims who are able are required to make this pilgrimage at least once in their lifetime, where people of different countries, races, languages, and classes converge toward the same holy site.
Faith does not remain in thought alone; it enters into the daily lives of time, body, money, desire, travel, and community.
In Front of the Kaaba
During the Hajj, people gather in Mecca, speaking different languages and differing in skin color, occupation, nationality, and wealth, yet all face the same direction: the Kaaba. They do not worship the Kaaba itself as a god, but it symbolizes the unity of Muslims around the world, all looking toward one God.
Before it, kings and ordinary people alike are just human beings before God.
In this scene, one can read an important spirit of Islam: while humans strive to elevate themselves, religion calls for humility; while humans desire to possess more, it urges sharing; and while humans chase after desires, it advocates for restraint. Humans may place themselves at the center of the world, but Islam calls for placing God at the center.
Thus, one of the significant religious meanings of the term 'Islam' is to entrust oneself to God and submit.
However, the term 'submission' must be understood carefully. It does not mean submitting to a dictator or unconditionally yielding to state power or religious leaders. Ultimately, it is about relinquishing one's arrogance before God.
Submission and Freedom
Here, a paradoxical question arises: Can one be free while submitting?
Modern individuals often think of freedom as a state of not submitting to anything. But can humans truly live without submitting to anything? They may submit to money, power, desires, honor, popularity, group opinions, or their own greed. Even if they appear free on the surface, they can become slaves to their desires.
Thus, the submission to God that Islam speaks of can be read from another perspective. It is about not making money a god, not making power a god, and above all, not making oneself a god. By acknowledging one's limitations before the Absolute, one becomes free from the many idols of the world.
At this point, the spirituality of Islam intersects with the various paths we have walked in "Spiritual Asia." Buddhism urged liberation from attachment, Taoism advised against forcibly grasping the world, and Confucianism called for the moderation of desires and the restoration of humanity. Jesus in Christianity taught humility and love for one's neighbor.
Islam says: Surrender yourself before God.
While expressions and doctrines differ, they all caution against human arrogance and endless desires, opening the door for dialogue.
Returning to Mecca
After years of conflict, battles, negotiations, and shifts in power dynamics, Muhammad entered Mecca in 630. With the idols removed from the Kaaba, it became the central sanctuary of monotheism, and Muhammad passed away in 632.
When a man who believed he received revelations alone in the cave of Hira about 20 years earlier passed away, a new religious community had formed in Arabia.
However, his death was not the end of Islamic history but rather another beginning. Who would succeed Muhammad? Since a prophet could not arise again, who should lead the community? Should it be based on lineage, consensus, faith, or ability? How should religious authority connect with political power?
These questions open the second great narrative of Islam.
In this context, we momentarily leave the Arabian desert to meet a 20th-century Korean thinker, Dasuk Yoo Yeong-mo.
Dasuk deeply studied Christianity but did not merely transplant Western Christianity; he sought to reconcile Eastern and Western spirituality in the Korean language by reading Confucianism, Buddhism, and Taoism together. He particularly distinguished between 'Je-na' and 'Eol-na' in his view of humanity.
Je-na refers to the self that is trapped in desires and attachments, trying to place itself at the center of the world, while Eol-na refers to the true self that rises toward greater life and truth beyond such self-centeredness. For Dasuk, the spiritual task of humanity is not to endlessly expand Je-na but to transcend it and rise to Eol-na.
Of course, one cannot equate Dasuk's 'One' with the theological concept of Allah in Islam. Similarly, Dasuk's Eol-na and Islamic submission are not the same religious concepts. They emerge from different historical and religious traditions, and their differences must be respected.
However, there are questions where these two thoughts can meet.
Can humans absolutize themselves?
Islam calls for humility before God, while Dasuk urges rising to Eol-na beyond the desires that trap us. Though one language is rooted in the monotheistic faith born in the Arabian desert and the other in the language of a Korean thinker who read Eastern and Western religions together, both question the self-absolutization and arrogance of humanity.
Perhaps spirituality begins precisely at that point.
Truth, Justice, Freedom, and Humanity, Culture, Nature
We walk this path not to urge belief in any particular religion, nor to prove the superiority of one religion over another.
We seek to view facts based on fundamentals and principles, to find truth, to question justice, and to respect human freedom. From this foundation, we aim to find a path that loves humanity, culture, and nature.
Therefore, Islam must also be viewed without prejudice. To see Islam only through the lens of terrorism and war is not a proper way to understand a vast religion and civilization that has spanned 1,400 years. However, we must not ignore the wars, conquests, sectarian conflicts, and power struggles that have occurred in Islamic history.
Light must be seen as light, and shadows as shadows.
That is the fundamental principle. Judaism has seen it that way. Christianity has seen it that way. Islam will see it that way too.
Loving a religion does not mean glorifying all its history, nor does criticizing a religion mean denying the dignity of those who believe in it. Truth allows us to view facts honestly, justice stands with the weak, and freedom respects the faith and non-faith of those who believe differently.
And love for humanity, culture, and nature demands understanding before making different religions and civilizations into enemies.
What do we surrender ourselves to?
Now, we return to the cave of Hira. A man sits alone, with the desert stretching outside, and in the distance, the markets of Mecca and the Kaaba. The caravans of merchants pass by, and tribes protect their gods and honor.
Yet, the man in the cave stands before more fundamental questions: Who am I? Who is the master of the world? What is the purpose of wealth and power? Why should we care for the poor and orphans? Must humans take responsibility for their lives? And what am I before a being greater than myself?
Muhammad's answer was clear.
There is one God. Humans are not God.
From this simple declaration, the history of the vast religion and civilization of Islam began.
However, the moment humans declare, "There is one God," another question arises: Who interprets God's will? Who leads the community? When religion gains power, for whom is that power used?
The questions we posed in the Christian narrative reappear in another form. What happens when a religion that began with love gains power?
In Islam, the question shifts: What happens when faith in submission to God meets human power?
Following this question leads us to the caliphs after Muhammad, to Ali and Hussein, through the history of the Sunni and Shia divide, into the great empires of Umayyad and Abbasid, and in Baghdad, we will meet philosophers, physicians, mathematicians, and astronomers, witnessing how Islamic civilization absorbed the knowledge of Greece, Persia, India, and Central Asia to create a new civilization.
This is the moment when faith that began in the desert becomes a world civilization.
But today, we pause at that threshold. Abraham departed, Moses walked toward freedom, Jesus spoke of love, and in the Arabian desert, Muhammad called humanity to look toward the One. They lived in different times, spoke different languages, and ultimately walked different religious paths.
Yet, beneath the profound questions they posed to humanity flows a single tension.
Can humans place themselves at the center of the world? Can they take everything their desires want? Can they do anything because they have power? Can money and power be above humanity?
21st-century humans possess powers unimaginable to a 7th-century Arab. They split atoms, edit genes, venture into space, and now create AI that resembles human intelligence.
Thus, the questions posed 1,400 years ago in the desert may resonate even more urgently today.
The temptation for humans to place themselves in the position of God has grown more than ever.
Dasuk urged rising to Eol-na beyond the desires that trap us. Islam calls for relinquishing human arrogance before God. Though the paths differ, the questions posed to today's humanity curiously converge.
Am I not absolutizing myself?
We have said that at the end of the Christian narrative, we must move from knowledge to wisdom, from wealth to sharing, from power to responsibility, and from intelligence to spirituality.
The first story of Islam adds one more phrase before that.
From arrogance to humility.
As humans gain the ability to do more, they need to exercise restraint, recognizing they are not the masters of all. As intelligence increases, wisdom is needed; as wealth grows, sharing is necessary; as power strengthens, responsibility is required; and as humans absolutize themselves, spirituality becomes essential.
This is the first question of Islam that began in the desert: What can humans surrender themselves to?
In the next story, we will carry this question beyond the desert. After Muhammad's death, the once-unified Ummah faced issues surrounding leadership, leading to the great history of caliphs, Ali, Hussein, Karbala, Sunni and Shia, Umayyad and Abbasid, Baghdad, and the golden age of Islamic civilization.
Faith becomes a community, the community meets power, and power creates empires and civilizations.
And we will ask again.
What happens when faith in submission to God meets human power?
* This article has been translated by AI.
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