Abraham’s Journey of Faith Photos -- National Geographic

Jewish Man, Israel
Photograph by Reza
Imagine a world saturated with ignorance and hatred, a lonely, brutish place without any hope of redemption. Now, picture a man—Abram, the Bible calls him—who hears a command from God: Leave behind the life you know, and I will one day bless the entire world through you. How this will happen, and why, is a mystery to this man, but he sets out. In time God gives him a new name: Abraham. In time he will become the patriarch of three monotheistic faiths—Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. And history will be forever transformed by his story.

These photos and captions were published in the December 2001 National Geographic article "Abraham: Journey of Faith."
Greek Orthodox Priests, Jerusalem
Photograph by Reza
Rekindling the flame of faith, Greek Orthodox priests bear witness to the Passion of the crucified Christ during a Good Friday procession in Jerusalem. Christians trace their spiritual lineage from Jesus to Abraham, whose obedience, service, and sacrifice prefigured the coming of the Messiah. “Abraham embodies mankind’s need and desire to have a relationship with God, but because of original sin we cannot enter God’s kingdom on our own,” says Father Frank Marangos, a Greek Orthodox priest. “Jesus saves from sin not only those who came after him, but all those who came before him—including Abraham.”
Muslims, Jerusalem
Photograph by Reza
Telling their sacred stories in Jerusalem, Muslims (pictured here), Christians, and Jews see themselves as actors in the story too. In this drama God creates the world, banishes Adam and Eve from the Garden, brings forth a great flood, and then commands Abraham to embark on a historic mission. Muslims believe this mission was revealed to them through Muhammad, a descendent of Abraham’s son Ishmael.
Hasidic Jews, Jerusalem
Photograph by Reza
Jews claim they inherited God’s blessing through Abraham’s son Isaac and his son Jacob. Skeptics say the stories of Abraham are pure fiction, written for tribal self-glorification. If so, believers counter, why dream up such a fractured family tree that potentially muddles who really received God’s blessing?
Turkish Girl
Photograph by Reza
Pointing toward heaven, houses in Haran, in southeastern Turkey, hint at the landscape that welcomed Abraham 4,000 years ago. Although the Bible says nothing about why Abraham had left his birthplace, Ur of the Chaldees, a Jewish story fills in the blanks: King Nimrod had seen a sign in the stars foretelling a man who would rise up against him and his pagan religion. Persecuted by Nimrod, Abraham fled to Haran, where God first spoke to him: ”Go forth from your land and your birthplace and your father’s house to the land I will show you. And I will make you a great nation.”
Muslim Man, Jordan
Photograph by Reza
Into Canaan they came, Abraham and his family and all their belongings. And the Lord appeared to Abram and said, “To your seed I will give this land.” In thanks, Abraham built an altar to the Lord in Shechem (pictured here), where several altars have been unearthed. “Is any one of them Abraham’s?” asks Eric Cline, a biblical archaeologist. “Your guess is as good as mine. There are no plaques that say, ‘Abraham slept here.’ In fact, we can’t determine if he ever existed. Abraham is a matter of faith.”
Bedouin Man, Egypt
Photograph by Reza
Waiting for sunrise, 70-year-old Bedouin Muhammad Khuder sticks close to the Sinai and seminomadic traditions that are on the wane. Most Bedouin no longer rely on goats or an orchard for survival, although this work does provide a fallback when cash-paying jobs are scarce. In ancient times, observes Talmudic scholar Louis Ginzberg, nomadic life could be tough. “[It] interferes with the growth of the family, it lessens one’s substance, and it diminishes the consideration one enjoys.” Yet God promised Abraham the opposite: a land in which to dwell, a life long in years, and children. ”Look up to the heavens and count the stars, if you can count them,” says the Lord. ”So shall be your seed.”
Dead Sea
Photograph by Reza
Heading east from Egypt, toward tributaries of the Salt Sea (the Dead Sea), Abraham and his family traveled with his nephew, Lot. Knowing the land could not sustain both families dwelling together, given their large herds of cattle, Abraham said to Lot, ”Let us part company. If you take the left hand, then I shall go right, and if you take the right hand, I shall go left.” Lot chose the fertile plain of Jordan to the east, so Abraham went west, returning to Canaan—but as a changed man: In Egypt Abraham had focused only on his own fate, but here the patriarch became a peacemaker.
Bedouin Woman, Egypt
Photograph by Reza
A woman waits. She is anxious. Ninety years old, she is still childless. So Sarah makes a fateful decision: She tells her husband to conceive a child with Hagar, their Egyptian slave girl, who soon bears Abraham a son. His name is Ishmael. Soon Sarah is blessed with a son of her own. His name is Isaac. When God finally calls Abraham to his greatest test of faith—to offer his son as a sacrifice—which son is it? Isaac, say Jews and Christians; Ishmael, say Muslims. Even though neither son dies—God stays the hand of their father, who slays a ram instead—the conflicting narratives reflect a painful divide rooted in a cosmic competition: Which of Abraham’s children are truly playing the lead role in history’s divine drama?
Muslim Pilgrims, Mecca
Photograph by Reza
Expectations building as they stream along Ibrahim Street, Muslim pilgrims on the hajj arrive in Mecca, the nexus of Islam. According to the Koran adult Muslims who are physically and financially able must make a pilgrimage to this holy city in Saudi Arabia at least once in their lifetime. Heeding the call, they come from every corner of the globe—to walk in the footsteps of Abraham, Hagar, Ishmael, and Muhammad and to worship Allah, the One. In his day Muhammad believed monotheism could be the antidote to the violent tribalism that tore at the Arab world, writes Karen Armstrong in A History of God. “A single deity who was the focus of all worship would integrate society as well as the individual.”
Grand Mosque, Mecca
Photograph by Reza
More than two million Muslims prostrate themselves at the Grand Mosque in Mecca each year during the hajj—"and it’s a wonderful experience, a joyful time,” says Abdullah Khouj, a Mecca native who was born near the mosque. “When people leave their worldly gains behind and come to pray in simple white garments, you realize there’s no difference between rich and poor, black and white. There’s a sense of equality.” And of wonder too: The huge influx of believers temporarily triples the city’s population, straining the water supply. “Allah provides,” Khouj explains. “And the Saudi government helps too.”
Jewish Circumcision Rite, Israel
Photograph by Reza
On the eighth day of his life, Meir Kopshitz is circumcised, a sign of God’s enduring covenant with the Jewish people. The oldest continuously performed Jewish rite, Brith Milah was a command to Abraham, who circumcised his sons—and himself, at the age of 99. This covenant—this partnership between Abraham’s family and God—introduces a new idea into history, writes Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik. “What happens to Jews emanates from a Divine promise foretold about the future, rather than by events impelling from the past. Jewish history is pulled, as by a magnet, toward a glorious destiny.” What is that destiny? The messianic redemption of the entire universe.
Bedouin Man, Egypt
Photograph by Reza
Three men mysteriously appear outside the tent of Abraham, who graciously welcomes them with bread, milk, and a tender and goodly calf. The tradition of hospitality, friendship, and concern for the stranger lives on. “I have been shooting pictures for 35 years and have traveled in 107 different countries, but nowhere have I enjoyed greater warmth than I experienced among the Bedouin,” says photographer Reza. “Exhausted after a long day driving in the Sinai desert, you’d approach a tent, and suddenly someone would appear with coffee and a beautiful carpet to sit on—yet they’d never ask who you were or where you’re from. I sometimes wonder if the rest of us have forgotten such values.”
Dome of the Rock, Jerusalem
Photograph by Reza
Seismic center of an ongoing spiritual earthquake, Jerusalem’s Dome of the Rock encloses the tip of Mount Moriah but can’t retain its reverberations. Here Abraham nearly sacrificed his son Isaac. Here Solomon and Herod built their temples. Here Muhammad ascended on a night journey to heaven. And so Jews and Muslims, Israelis and Palestinians claim the site as part of their patrimony.
Cave of Machpelah, Hebron
Photograph by Reza
Hebron’s Cave of Machpelah, reputed burial place of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob is divided in two—with one sanctuary for Muslims, another for Jews (pictured here). The tomb stands as a testament to a living family, separated by history, now struggling to resolve its historic stalemate.
Muslim Man, Hebron
Photograph by Reza
If Abraham rose from his grave in Hebron and wandered its streets today, he would find a largely Palestinian city, mostly Muslim, and a small enclave of Jews who dwell near the patriarch’s tomb. Bridging the divide between the “children of Abraham” requires far more than a family metaphor, writes theology professor Karl-Josef Kuschel, “since a ‘healthy’ family has individuality, rivalry, distance, and, in some circumstances, disputes and partings.”