Could our sense of who we are really turn on a sliver of DNA? In our multiethnic world, questions of individual identity are becoming increasingly unclear. Now in ABRAHAM'S CHILDREN bestselling author Jon Entine vividly brings to life the profound human implications of the Age of Genetics while illuminating one of today's most controversial topics: the connection between genetics and who we are, and specifically the question "Who is a Jew?"

Entine weaves a fascinating narrative, using breakthroughs in genetic genealogy to reconstruct the Jewish biblical tradition of the chosen people and the hereditary Israelite priestly caste of Cohanim. Synagogues in the mountains of India and China and Catholic churches with a Jewish identity in New Mexico and Colorado provide different patterns of connection within the tangled history of the Jewish diaspora. Legendary accounts of the Hebrew lineage of Ethiopian tribesmen, the building of Africa's Great Zimbabwe fortress, and even the so-called Lost Tribes are reexamined in light of advanced DNA technology. Entine also reveals the shared ancestry of Israelites and Christians.

As people from across the world discover their Israelite roots, their riveting stories unveil exciting new approaches to defining one's identity. Not least, Entine addresses possible connections between DNA and Jewish intelligence and the controversial notion that Jews are a "race apart." ABRAHAM'S CHILDREN is a compelling reinterpretation of biblical history and a challenging and exciting illustration of the promise and power of genetic research.

CHAPTER 2

IDENTITY COMPLEX

Let us remember all of our Jewish brothers and sisters, who through their faithfulness to One God, inspired all Christians.”

Resplendent in a red and white robe on this Palm Sunday Eve, Father William Sánchez solemnly marks what he calls the “Passover of Jesus,” the journey of the king of the Jews that begins with his entry into Jerusalem.

“Praise Him, descendant of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, give glory to him, revere him and all you descendants of Israel,” he intones in a voice that reminds one of Placido Domingo, the Spanish tenor whom he resembles in looks and presence.

While Jews around the world mark the Lord’s decision to spare the Jews and preserve the Western tradition of monotheism, the Mexican American congregants at Saint Edwin’s, a modest church carved out of an aging parish hall in south Albuquerque, New Mexico, honor the Passover sacrifice through the prism of Jesus’s crucifixion and resurrection. Father Bill, as his parishioners affectionately call him, lifts the goblet filled with the sacramental wine to his lips and gives voice to Jesus’s words as he took his place at the Passover table with his disciples.

“Take this cup and share it among yourselves. This cup is the new covenant in my blood, which will be shed for you and for all so that sin will be forgiven.”

The invocation of a blood ritual is not an idle one. From this moment in biblical time onward, for followers of Jesus, the covenant would be grounded not in blood ancestry but in the symbolism of blood represented by faith. This defining event marked a fundamental divide that would forever separate the religious identity of Jews from the followers of the two major religions that Judaism would spawn, Christianity and Islam.

Or would it?

“Christianity may have changed the blood covenant from literal to spiritual, but it does not deny the ancestral connection of Jews to Christianity,” said Father Bill later that evening in his Spartan office in the rectory building across from the church. “And the fact is,” he said, his eyes looking at me with a gaze both weary and hard, “I’m Jewish. I believe in the word and message of Jesus, but I am a Jew as well.”

Father Bill is in his midfifties, but the harsh reaction of the Catholic hierarchy to his spiritual journey has made him feel much older. He rested his hand gently on the 6-inch-high stack of DNA tests piled on his desk documenting his own ancestry. “For me, as a Roman Catholic, we’re very Jewish in our traditions, in the liturgy,” he said. “God chose the Israelites. Jesus was Jewish. He died a Jew. I’m just acknowledging that fact, that spiritual fact, within myself. But now it has a literal reality as well. It’s embedded in my genes, in my DNA.”

These were startling and perhaps reckless words for an idealistic parish priest who believes that sharing his belief in his Jewish ancestry is part of his calling in the name of Christ. An alphabet soup of genetic data has challenged his faith and threatens to fracture his relationship with Catholic authorities. He knows that every word of every interview he gives, every conversation with a journalist, and every public speech will be reviewed by Catholic officials who are irate with him because of his outspokenness in discussing his “Jewish roots.” “God brought my ancestors to New Mexico from Spain for a reason,” he said, looking determined, but in the softness of his voice, sounding almost stricken. “I’m very comfortable knowing that I have ancestral roots that deepen the shared religious traditions of Christians and Jews”—his voice trails off in a whisper—“even if the church is not.”

WHO IS A JEW?

Father Sánchez’s spiritual quest is a familiar one for Jews, who have spent their history wrestling with their identity. “The remnant of Jacob shall be in the midst of many peoples, like dew from the Lord, like droplets on grass,” reads the biblical prophecy in Micah 5:6, which was indeed prophetic. Jews make up a tiny 0.25 percent of the global population, but pockets of adherents are found in almost every culture. And the genetic seeds of the Israelites can be found in many ethnic groups and religions. The explosion of interest in genetics has revived one of Western society’s longest-running debates: who is a Jew? Identity may turn on the mysteries encoded in a lock of hair or a single drop of blood. Can we find an answer in faith or ethnicity, scripture or ancestry? view abbreviated excerpt only...

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