Thirty years ago, in 1995, I stood before a blank canvas and painted what seemed impossible: a world where the cross of Christianity, the Star of David, the sacred architecture of Islam, the Dome of the Rock and the serene presence of the Buddha coexisted not in tolerance, but in sacred communion. I called it "Faith"—that single word blazing in red at the center, with praying hands reaching toward the same divine mystery. It was a prayer made visible. A hope against hope.

This Christmas, as we stand at the threshold of 2026, that prayer has found an echo in stone and light on Abu Dhabi's Saadiyat Island: The Abrahamic Family House—where mosque, synagogue, and church share one foundation, one plaza, one beating heart.

The Prophecy of Art, The Promise of Architecture

In my painting, no faith stands isolated. The crucified Christ, the Buddha in meditation, the Dome of the Rock, the Star of David with its dove of peace—all exist in the same swirling, urgent space. The praying hands reach not toward separate heavens but toward one shared sky.

While my 1995 vision cast a wider net—including Eastern wisdom traditions alongside the Abrahamic faiths—The Abrahamic Family House focuses specifically on the three children of Abraham: Muslim, Jew, and Christian. Yet both share the same revolutionary conviction: our shared humanity is stronger than our inherited divisions.

This is not syncretism. This is not the erasure of difference. This is the courage to say: your prayer does not diminish mine; your faith does not threaten mine; your path to the divine illuminates rather than darkens my own.

The Christmas Message: Peace is Possible

As Christians celebrate the birth of the Prince of Peace this December, let us remember what that infant represented: a Jewish child born under Roman occupation, visited by foreign mystics following a star, who would grow to preach a radical love that transcended every boundary his world knew. Jesus himself was a bridge between worlds.

The Abrahamic Family House is that bridge made manifest for the children of Abraham. My painting was that bridge extended even further—to Buddhist meditation, to all who seek the sacred. And this Christmas, the message is clear:

For thirty years, my painting "Faith" has asked a question: Can we share sacred space without surrendering sacred identity? The Abrahamic Family House answers: Yes. We can. We must.

From Artist to Architects, From Vision to Reality

I painted alone in my studio three decades ago, driven by an intuition that humanity's survival depended on our ability to see the divine spark in every tradition. My canvas held not just the Abrahamic faiths but reached toward the East, toward Buddha's compassionate stillness, toward the universal human gesture of praying hands.

Today, Abu Dhabi has built the Abrahamic portion of that vision into the desert sand. Imam, rabbi, and priest share morning coffee in The Forum. Children from different traditions play in the same gardens. Prayers in Arabic, Hebrew, and Latin rise from the same earth toward the same sky. What was once a dream on canvas has become a destination on a map.

The Call for 2026

This Christmas, I invite you to hold two images in your mind:

My painting from 1995—raw, urgent, swirling with the energy of hope, embracing not just Abraham's children but all who pray, all who seek, all who reach toward transcendence.

The Abrahamic Family House in 2023—serene, solid, standing as proof that what artists imagine, humanity can build.

Between these two images lies our task: to choose faith over fear, dialogue over division, courageous peace over comfortable hatred.

The infant in the manger grew up to say, "Blessed are the peacemakers." The Abrahamic Family House makes peace a physical place we can enter. My painting makes peace a vision that includes all seekers—from Bethlehem to Bodh Gaya, from Jerusalem to every human heart that prays.

Now it is your turn. What will you build? What will you create? What bridge will you become?

May this Christmas remind us:

That Abraham's children—through Isaac and Ishmael—are still family, however complicated, however estranged.

That the Christ child, the Jewish prophets, and the Prophet Muhammad all preached the same core truth: love God, love your neighbor, care for the vulnerable.

That the Buddha's compassion and Christ's love speak the same language of peace.

That art precedes architecture, and vision precedes reality, but courage makes them both possible.

Merry Christmas. Salaam. Shalom. Peace.