On numerous occasions I’ve had the huge privilege of involvement in a get-together where many dozens of Muslim friends listened keenly to the Christian gospel, and the same number of Christians listened likewise to a Muslim expert explain what Muslims care about and believe. And I think this could and should happen all around our country!
It all started when an Islamic bookshop opened across the road from our church. We went over to say hello and rapidly found that, although we disagreed over fundamental issues – Christ’s deity and his death; they don’t come more central than that – yet we shared at least three things. First, a sense that Britain is in a huge mess because it has ignored God’s Word (even though we see that Word differently); a shared sense that the media attack and misrepresent our faiths in serious ways; and a respect for each other’s passionate commitment to know what God wants and obey what God wants.
We started lunching together occasionally, and friendships grew. Then our Muslim friends began a series of interesting lectures on Sunday evenings, and some of us began attending. We were welcomed warmly, and although at first our intention was simply to listen and get to know Islam and local Muslims, as they saw that our attitude was respectful they began to invite us to raise our questions; a huge privilege in such a context!
We learned a lot. It can be very valuable to hear an experienced Christian explain Islam, but something different is added when it’s explained by someone for whom it’s their faith and their passion. The first lecture I attended was on heaven, and I won’t forget the speaker sharing how much he looked forward to talking there with Jesus (Isa), and to hearing God say `Salaam` (`Peace`) to his people. Equally important was that, whereas I had thought Islam to be a religion where certain works are the way to paradise, our Muslim friends were insistent that no works could guarantee you paradise (although works were essential marks of a true believer), and that it was all a matter of God’s mercy (or not) when you died. It seemed to me that, since both sides know our deeds cannot be enough for God, our faith in Jesus’ all-powerful death for our sins is why we Christians feel assurance of heaven, and likewise our Muslim friends’ denial of this relates to why, as they told me, they have no such certainty. This was new to me.
Still more memorable were the lectures our friends put on about the punishments beyond the grave and (separately) hellfire. I got up at the end of one of these to thank them for their courage in not evading these tough, essential issues. The descriptions of what Muslims believe in these areas were immensely powerful, and you could see the effect on the audience; and once again we were reminded (and generously allowed to say) how our beliefs about the cross affected our expectations about hell. I wish, in fact, that our entire church had been able to hear these lectures; sometimes when we are struggling with how a loving God could permit a hell, it is good to recall that a large part of the human race sees no problem in believing in a hell much starker than anything in the old and new testaments.
One afternoon as we emerged from the restaurant our friends challenged us to a debate. On reflection, however, a debate format didn’t seem ideal, since it could become inflammatory and divisive as people felt the need to stand up as public champions of their faith. Instead, they invited a speaker to present `What Christians need to know about Islam`, and we invited a speaker to address `What Muslims need to know about Christian faith`. The two talks were to be followed by a question time (written questions only, so that as co-chairpersons we could weed out inflammatory ones); where the aim would not be to attack each other’s faith, but where questions about either faith would be respectful and would be answered by that faith’s speaker. On both sides our deepest desire was that others should understand what we believe (and believe as essential), rather than to attack each other’s beliefs.
As so often when we relate to believers of other faiths, everything depends on friendship built up over a period, and on the trust built up in that friendship. Respect is absolutely crucial. (Respect doesn’t necessitate agreement. Our Muslim friends made it very clear that they believe we are currently bound for hell; and we have failed unless we too have communicated our deep concern about their situation.) I wonder if some in our church may have been surprised to see on our church’s outside wall a poster where the first words were the name of the Islamic Bookshop…- but personally I rejoiced that their name came before ours in the alphabet, and for the chance for the respectful statement that could be made in putting them first! On the other hand, trust needs to be protected, and we were careful to have a memo sharing our joint understanding of what we were going to do and how it would happen on the night (timing, chairs, catering, staging, amps etc); along with the poster wording and an agreed statement for the press if they phoned or turned up (which we rather hoped they wouldn’t, as it might raise the temperature).
As we went leafleting the neighbourhood, it became obvious how much our Muslim neighbours welcomed such an event if it actually came promoted by both sides. As we asked local Muslim grocers and cafes to put up a poster the reaction was immediate: This is what needs to happen; we need to understand each other. And since the event was promoted by both sides, there was a freedom; and when the evening came we watched with joy to see much prayer answered, as the venue (our community centre – holding it in the church would not have been good) filled with over 150 people of both sexes and faiths mingling together. (We did have an optional seating area for women only. We also encouraged our church on ways to help each other feel comfortable – come with the goal of making friends, don’t wear skimpy clothes, don’t put God’s Word on the floor.)
In the end it was one of the best evenings of my life. We don’t often have over 70 guests who are not Christians, and the fact that these were mainly Muslims made it more special still. Both speakers were clear without being inflammatory; questions flooded in, far more than we could deal with in the time, and afterwards both were surrounded by many people dialoguing eagerly. As we took refreshments (both halal and non-halal), all over the room Muslims and Christians were talking with each other, friendships that we prayed could deepen in the following months. Both their lectures and our Alpha course were advertised. Both bookstalls received much attention (ours included Urdu literature and numerous copies of Hicham’s Your Questions Answered (Evangelical Press)). They were quicker at being generous in giving most things away free, but still nearly every Muslim left with Luke’s gospel, John’s gospel, or both; and we believe these are the living Word of God! We began at 6-15, and at 10pm you could still see warm but friendly debates carrying on at the door. On both sides the response has been enthusiastic (`It’s been brilliant…. It was awesome to watch…. Lots of people want another….`)
So we did it again, and again! Topics we covered together in the following years, relevant to both of us, included: What Christians need to know about the Quran and what Muslims need to know about the Bible; Prayer; `Allahu akbar` – what is so great about God?; What happens to us after death; The meaning of Eid and the meaning of Christmas; Jesus’ return; and Forgiveness. (So there wasn’t a focus on the evidence for our respective faiths; personally I felt this could just drive people into their respective corners, although of course speakers needed to be able to handle these issues well in question times, where they could come up usefully, but not as the main aspect.) We also picnicked together (asking the Christians not to bring dogs – dogs are taboo for many Muslims). Most of the time these events were annual: perhaps that was a mistake, perhaps it would have been better if we had met more often, although probably this would have meant smaller audiences.
Timing of course needed to be fitted carefully with that day’s Muslim prayer times. Then speakers, distributing pens and paper and giving people time to write questions, then working through the questions (we could never cover them all), took about 90 minutes. Afterwards we ate together for a further hour or so.
These events were some of the highlights of my life, and I am deeply grateful for the Muslim friends I made. No doubt as a result there were many more Muslims who at last understood better the gospel of Christ crucified, and many more Christians who at last understood better what their Muslim neighbours believe. We continued to eat together.
And the same things could happen in your area?
