Jan 12, 2026 5 min read religious diversity

I am one and so are you!

Abraham indeed had many sons. And Abraham has many children in our world today. I am one and so are you!

Prestonsburg, Kentucky, is a small Appalachian town in eastern Kentucky with a population of about 3,500. There are a few fast-food restaurants and many more small churches of various Christian varieties. And off one country road outside town sits the Islamic Center of Eastern Kentucky. It is a nondescript building, but its presence in Prestonsburg testifies to America’s growing religious diversity. You would not be surprised to learn that the much larger city of Louisville has a dozen mosques and a vibrant Muslim population. But Prestonsburg? Muslims living in Appalachia? Religious diversity has arrived not only in our major cities but across America’s smaller cities and towns. We might think about the Hindu temples in Spanish Fork, Utah, and Panama City, Florida; the large Buddhist temple in Hampton, Minnesota; and the mosque in Princeton, West Virginia. We can observe the growing number of sacred spaces, such as mosques and temples, in our neighborhoods.

God’s concern for all people compels us as Christians to respond to the growth of faith traditions in our communities and neighborhoods. Religious diversity is a reality we cannot ignore or passively observe. Our coworkers, neighbors, partners, and friends represent diverse religious identities, and our faith requires a deliberate and constructive response to theirs. We ought not to be afraid of, or indifferent to, this growing diversity but should seek to explore its possibilities in our broader society with courage and hope. We can move beyond fear and ignorance to curiosity and even celebration. These adherents are our neighbors and fellow human beings. We have been given the gift of living alongside wise and faithful people.

But how do we participate in the religious diversity around us?

We are also compelled as Christians to respond faithfully to this diversity in conversation with the Bible, a source of conviction and encouragement. Although the Bible does not directly address, say, the Buddhist tradition, it does offer timely wisdom about perennial issues of faith. After all, we affirm that the Bible is a living word, a faithful message for today. We dialogue with the Bible because it contains wisdom and deep learning. It raises the profound questions of faith; it delights and inspires with its stories of complicated moral characters. Its questions help us explore our questions. Its theologies aid us with our ponderings. The Bible gathers up a multifaceted, ancient conversation about the meaning of life and faith so that we, as readers, might enter that discussion. If we are willing to listen and to respond, the Bible becomes a dynamic conversation partner for contemporary lives of faith as we engage with those who believe differently from us.

But how do we revive our Bible readings to address religious difference?

One way forward brings into conversation our contemporary context of religious diversity and the ancient faith stories of Genesis, the first biblical book. As with any urgent issue of our time—evils such as ecological destruction and racism, or virtues such as neighborly love—to reflect in a Christian way on such matters necessitates an engagement with our tradition, including Scripture and the ways we have learned how to engage Scripture. We want to “think with” our sacred texts about these relevant issues, but not because we understand the Bible to have all the answers to our twenty-first-century challenges. It is not the answer key to the test of life. The Bible, as we will explore, has some problematic notions regarding diversity. It was, after all, written in a different historical era and contains ancient cultural attitudes. The human authors were unaware of modern medicine, astronomy, or anthropology. The Bible is unavoidably a product of its historical time. In addition, the Bible has been read in specific and deep-rooted ways over the centuries to create questionable interpretations concerning diversity. Earlier interpreters have not always read generously. And they undoubtedly have not read with an eye to our contemporary context.

To create a ministry of engagement and develop a theology of difference, we need to pay attention to the whole story of Genesis, especially to those people we do not commonly consider blessed or chosen. Likewise, we need to pay attention to people in other faith traditions who are not regularly deemed faithful and blessed. When we attend to the other brothers of Genesis—Cain, Ishmael, and Esau—we explore relevant questions for our lives today. When we look after our religious neighbors—Hindus and Muslims, for example—we also explore our contemporary lives of faith.

The story of Cain brings us the question: Am I my sibling’s keeper? Cain cannot deal with difference in his own family, in his brother, such that he resorts to violence to attempt to erase the difference around him. God questions Cain for his actions by asking him if it is not the case that he is the guardian or protector of his sibling. Cain is called to be a sibling to the one who is so different from him. God calls him to understand that difference does not keep him from being a sibling to Abel. We, too, receive the divine calling to understand our responses to difference around us. Do we become angry? Do we harm our neighbors who are different? God calls us to keep—to serve as neighbors to—those of different faith traditions.

Ishmael’s story arrives with this question: Which voices are being ignored? This story demonstrates how we have been conditioned to read Genesis with a keen interest in Isaac. We have frequently ignored Ishmael, the elder son of Abraham, as a central character. A closer look at the story in Genesis reveals Ishmael’s participation in God’s covenant with Abraham. Ishmael is assured of God’s presence in his life as a youth. He is the father of a nation. His story reminds us today to seek out the stories of those who are ignored. Ishmael’s inclusion in God’s covenant highlights the elastic nature of the covenant: it is not just for a select few; room is made for many in God’s good promises. We may ignore their voices, but God stretches out to enfold them into God’s loving care.

Esau’s story brings the question: Who do I portray negatively? Esau suffers from constant comparison to his twin, Jacob. When viewing these two brothers, readers often see one as good and the other as bad. So we portray Esau more negatively than the Genesis story does; our interpretation is more severe than the Bible’s portrayal. Esau makes one rash decision to sell his birthright, and this decision colors our understanding of the rest of his life. However, Esau ultimately receives a blessing from his father. And, near the end of his story, Esau forgives his brother for the trickery enacted against him and greets him warmly after over two decades of estrangement. Like his father-in-law, Ishmael, he becomes the father of a nation. Esau’s story provides us today an opportunity to reflect on God’s blessing to God’s children. We ask with Esau, “Have you only one blessing?” Do we believe in a God whose blessing is limited and finite? Esau helps us see a God who desires to bless all and a person who, though mistreated, offers grace to his sibling.

Let’s bring back some of the theology of a favorite children’s song, even as we expand its meaning. In my childhood, small-town church, the children delighted in singing and acting out the motions to the camp song “Father Abraham Had Many Sons.” Of course, the song’s language is overly masculine (although Genesis records Abraham himself had only sons). We need to add daughters to the opening line—or, better, call them children—if we are to include ourselves as a part of the family. And we need to acknowledge the crucial labor of Sarah, Hagar, and Keturah in the begetting of these children. Nevertheless, perhaps we can return to this children’s song and imbibe its potentially inclusive theology. The song does not claim a single child for the parent. Many sons, many children. Not an only child of promise. Both then and now. Abraham indeed had many sons. And Abraham has many children in our world today. I am one and so are you!

Adapted from Father Abraham’s Many Children: The Bible in a World of Religious Difference (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2022)