Unchanging

Although I'd read Aryeh Kaplan's explanation of the Rambam's ninth principle earlier, it wasn't until I reread it this morning that things really clicked into place. See, over the weekend, I spent some time with a few of my good friends, who happen to be Muslim. All four of us (my three friends and I) are very interested in talking about religion, in encouraging each other to live according to what we believe, even though we may believe differently. Obviously, all this involves a lot of discussion, and sometimes even banter back and forth when things get a little bit heated.

This particular weekend, we'd gathered at our oldest friend's apartment to kick back, play some backgammon, and eat ice cream. Somewhere amidst the Turkish music playing in the background and frequent fits of laughter at the broken accent of our friend still trying to master English, the conversation turned to religion, just as it usually does. I honestly can't remember how it started, or what exactly prompted the discussion, but soon I was sitting with my knees hugged to my chest on the couch, listening to my closest friend gush excitedly about how merciful Allah is. Another friend would cut him off, interjecting something relevant with a giant wave of his hand, and then Ahmed (as I'll call him) would start talking over him in his rush to convey to me just how fantastic Muhammad's words were. Through all this, I listened. While Ahmed pointed out verses in the Torah, linking them to ones in the Koran, I followed his thoughts, trying to understand, trying to fit his words into the context of the Judaism that I knew.

I was left with questions. It wasn't that I'd believed every single word that Ahmed had spoken (in fact, there were many parts that left me more than skeptical); it was that I was searching for something more solid than simply repeating my beliefs. I was searching for foundation, a why.

So, this morning, I reread the Rambam's ninth principle, along with Aryeh Kaplan's writings on the topic.

"I believe with perfect faith that the Torah will not be changed, and that there will never be another Torah given by G-d."

There it was.

It was so simple, so relieving.

I didn't have to go searching for details, for evidence, for proof. G-d clearly states in Deuteronomy 13:1 that no one shall ever add to or subtract from His Torah, and in the Jewish mind, this includes the prophet Muhammad. Stam.

Now, that's not to say that the above statement answers another question that Aryeh Kaplan poses at the end of his chapter (did G-d give the world any other religions besides Judaism?), but it is an answer for my dilemma. While I'm not going to rush to pick up my phone, call Ahmed, and blast him with this news, it is a good feeling to realize that I am standing on generations and generations of firm foundation, and more than that, I am standing on the word of G-d Himself. There is no end to the respect I have for Muslims, and I've found that even though our beliefs may differ, we serve the same G-d, and this is evident in our friendships. Ahmed's excitement about having the privilege to live for Allah every single day of his life is contagious, and I am reminded that I, too, have this privilege. It's an unchanging one.