​

It began with an apocalypse.

​

The English word “revelation” translates the Greek ἀποκάλυψις - long used by scholars to describe ancient religious writings which typically offer visions of heavenly secrets, full of symbolic meaning for human life and history.

 

The book of Revelation in the Christian Bible is the best-known example of the apocalyptic genre which flourished around two thousand years ago. But it is not the only such work to survive from antiquity. In Russia, in Old Slavonic manuscripts, an especially noteworthy text has been preserved.

 

When David Manson first read the Apocalypse of Abraham in 2004, he recognised at once the generic qualities of the book. The bulk of the text is indeed a record of heavenly visions. But it was the opening narrative chapters which intrigued him most. 

 

The Jewish writer tells of how the Hebrew patriarch grew up as the son of an idol-maker. With no little humour, young Abraham discerns the folly of idol worship. The one true God then intervenes - in a far from humorous manner – and sends to Earth an angel - who guides Abraham to a holy mountain – where he receives deeply meaningful visions from the holy One Himself.

​

In July 2012, when David sought ideas for a screenplay, he recalled this ancient religious narrative. Could this obscure 1st century text form the basis of a 21st century film script? Not, perhaps, by itself. But what if there were other old stories of Abraham as a youth, pre-dating his mature deeds described in the biblical book of Genesis?

​

Indeed there were such tales. A trawl of online archives revealed a large body of rabbinical writings about Abraham and Nimrod – the fabled king of Babylon who declared himself a god and built the Tower of Babel. 

 

These stories told of how Nimrod – warned by an omen – sought to kill the infant Abraham. The boy survived and grew up far from Babylon. Later, he returned to preach the falsehood of idols - including those of Nimrod himself. Once again, Abraham was condemned to death – only to be saved by God – who had His own plans for Nimrod - and his Tower.

​

There was more. One old tale described Nimrod’s vizier as the fallen angel Satan in disguise. David recalled that The Apocalypse of Abraham featured the satanic figure of Azazel, in the guise of a raven, on top of the holy mountain. And so he began to synthesise the Nimrod legends with the apocalyptic narrative. Alight with inspiration, and in just forty-eight sleepless hours, he sketched out the structure of a truly epic religious drama.

 

Many drafts and redrafts later, The Revelation of Abraham remains in essence a fusion of ancient stories - told and re-told down the ages - not only by Jews - but also by Christians, Muslims and Mormons for whom the protagonist is - and always has been - a revered religious figure.

​

There is imaginative material, of course. Abraham's visions differ subtly from those of the eponymous Apocalypse. The minor characters of Lal, Kip and Arwia are in no ancient source. Nor is much of the matter of Sarah and Hagar, two young women both destined for a future at Abraham's side. But Sarah's identity as Nimrod's daughter comes from an Islamic tradition, itself recorded in a modern Mormon anthology of Abraham legends. 

 

In this hefty volume can be found the grisly description of the massage ointment used by Nimrod, as recorded by the great Muslim historian and polymath al-Tabari. And this is just one of many details of The Revelation of Abraham taken from famous writers of all the monotheistic faiths.

 

David Manson has embraced this diversity of religious traditions to convey the great truth which unites them all. This is the living fact of the single, all-powerful, creative divine.

​

And that's no heavenly secret.

 

​