A Christmas Reflection Series: The Son of God — History, Ethics, and Moral Responsibility
A few nights ago, driving home late, I found myself stopped at a traffic light. The streets were lit with Christmas decorations—quiet, understated, almost routine. For a moment, everything slowed down.
And it reminded me of something I had nearly forgotten.
Some time ago, I wrote a book titled The Son of God. It was the result of years of study, reflection, and lived experience across cultures, faiths, and political realities. I didn’t write it for a season or a moment—but standing there, watching the lights, I realized this season may be exactly the right moment to return to it.
Many in my professional and policy circles may not know that this book exists. I’ve spent most of my public life focused on geopolitics, Iran, security, and human rights. But alongside that work, I’ve been engaged in a quieter, long-running inquiry into the moral and ethical foundations that shape civilizations—especially within the Abrahamic traditions.
I am a Muslim. I have lived much of my life in exile. Yet one of the most formative encounters of my intellectual and moral journey began with Jesus of Nazareth.
Not as theology at first—but as lived example.
As a young man displaced from Iran, navigating unfamiliar societies in Europe, it was often Christian communities that offered dignity, hospitality, and care when I had little else. Long before I studied Jesus historically, I encountered his legacy through people who tried—imperfectly, but sincerely—to live by his teachings.
The Son of God emerged from years of revisiting those experiences through history, ethics, and faith. It is not a book of conversion, nor a political manifesto. It is an attempt to understand Jesus in his own time—born under empire, shaped by occupation, and speaking into a world marked by inequality and fear.
I’m revisiting this work now because our world feels exhausted. Conflict is constant. Suffering is politicized. Moral language is either weaponized or drained of meaning.
Over the coming days, I’ll share a series of short reflections drawn from this book—looking at Jesus through historical, ethical, and political lenses—without slogans, without blame, and without naïveté.
For those who may wish to explore the full work, The Son of God is currently available as an e-book at a symbolic holiday price.
Sometimes the most important thing is not to rush forward—but to pause, and think again.
Thoughts? Share Below