Patrick J. RYAN, SJ. Amen: Jews, Christians & Muslims Keep Faith with God. Washington, D.C.: The Catholic University of America Press, 2018. 258 pp. Pb. $34.00.ISBN 9780813231242. Reviewed by Peter C. PHAN, Georgetown University, Washington, D.C. 20054.

Allow me to make a rather unusual request: Please do read the “Acknowledgments” (pp. ix-xi), not to find out if per chance the author thanks you by name, without whom the book could not allegedly have been written, but because it is difficult to grasp the contents and tenor of this book without first perusing those three pages. Amen is an extended dialogue on the concept of faith from the Jewish-Christian-Islamic traditions, but it is not a detached and dispassionate exercise in comparative theology. Rather it is born out of intimate friendshipsand personal experiences, and that is why “Acknowledgments” is so illuminating on where Ryan comes from, intellectually and spiritually. From the long list of persons and institutions to whom Ryan gives thanks, beginning with his doctoral studies at Harvard to his current position as holder of the McGinley Chair at Fordham and many other far-flung places around the globe, especially Africa, in between, it is clear that Ryan’s book is the mature fruit of his friendship with people of different faiths, principally Jewish and Islamic, and no faith.

Indeed, the book is written as “a long letter” to a friendhe calls G, whom he met in Africa. G, an international public servant and diplomat, was raised as a Catholic but has a very troubled faith, always trying to understand what is meant to be a Christian and a Catholic. He asked Ryan about his faith: “What does this mean to you? Why do you put your faith in God? What does it all mean to you?” (1).  This book is Ryan’s extended reply to G, but it is also written for himself in an attempt to understand his own faith.

Ryan begins with the Letter to the Hebrews’ definition of faith (11:1), which is commonly translated as: “Now faith is the assurance (hypostasis) of things hoped for, the conviction (elengchos) of things not seen.” Ryan gives a more accurate translation: “Faith is the reality that undergirds our hopes, the argument that convinces us about realities we do not see” (2) Ryan argues that faith is the foundation or support of our hope of the future but it is a very shaky foundation, a raft floating on a raging sea, but a foundation nevertheless. It is also the argument for things not seen, albeit not a rational proof, but a conviction nonetheless.  Faith drives our mind and heart toward the divine asymptotic goal, the incomprehensible Mystery (Karl Rahner), like the sighting of the “Windhover” (Gerard Manley Hopkins) or being enlightened by the Unchangeable Light (Augustine). This concept of faith is not an abstract truth for Ryan; rather it was confirmed existentially for him in May 1965 when he was in Nigeria as a Jesuit scholastic. In spite of his Catholic and Jesuit upbringing (perhaps because of it?) he became a “Five-Minute Atheist” (13), from which he was brought back to faith by the words of the Latin Office of the Dead, which he had sung two years earlier: “Quid tibi dicam, o custos hominum?” (What shall I say to you, O Guardian of Humanity?) (16). In brief, in matters of faith there is no knock-down argument pro and con. Rather we must lay ourselves open to Martin Buber’s Rabbi Levi Yitzahk’s famous phrase: “But perhaps it is true after all” (4).

Against this background, in chapters 2-7, Ryan examines key aspects of faith from Jewish, Christian, and Islamic resources. Each chapter begins with Ryan’s imaginary conversation with G, and through him, with us, his readers. In what sense is faith a response to the covenant with God? Is Abraham the Father in faith of Jews, Christians, and Muslims? How have Jews, Christians, and Muslims related their faith to culture, by rejection, accommodation, and integration? How must Jews, Christians, and Muslims express inner and outer repentance for their evil deeds so as to be able to see anew claims of truth? How does faith face death and the afterlife? What is the meaning of religious pilgrimages? How does faith name God?

Ryan ends his “long letter” with a profound reflection on Rahab, the prostitute of Jericho, who is praised by Jewish midrashim as the model Gentile convert to Judaism. Above all, he gives thanks to G: “Thank you for all you were able to do for poor people. Thank you for being a living patron saint for me” (234).  He concludes with a prayer for all of us, including G, that at the hour of our death we may nod the “Amen” of our faith in God.

As I read this book, I recall with pleasure the first time I met Patrick. It was at a conference at Payap University in Chiang Mai, Thailand, more than a decade ago, After the conference we shared a ride on an elephant. From the look on its face, we knew that it was not too happy with our combined weight and hoped that it would forget us despite elephants’ proverbial memory. It is with profound gratitude that I read Patrick’s work. An artful combination of autobiographical anecdotes and deep theological scholarship, it is the perfect example of interreligious dialogue and comparative theology, written in a beautiful style as only an English literature scholar that Ryan is can do. It is, moreover, a work of rich spirituality, for both those of faith and no faith. It is one of the best theology books in recent years. Pick it up and read, and do not skip the “Acknowledgments,” and you will not be the same.