A Muslim Believer

Recently a friend of mine, referred to as "C" in this story, spent time in the Philippines.  One evening at dinner she met a gentleman who described himself as a muslim believer.  Below is her account of the evening.  Stepped on my toes as I read it... hope it does the same for you.

We divide ourselves. Unconsciously, the Americans sit on one side of the table and we wait for our Filipino hosts to face us along the other side.

The men sit down, we thank God for the food, and begin to put it on our plates. The oldest of the men, sitting down the table from me, begins to speak.  I hear the voice of the Holy Spirit in my heart, “C, listen to this man.”  “Lord, I can’t understand Tagalog!” I protest.  “Listen anyway.”

I stand up and ask my friend beside me to slide down. I sit next to a Tagalog-speaking American, who begins to translate for me. The man, Mr. J*, is sharing his story. I learn that he is staying here in the mountains to hide from the people of his village, who want to kill him. They want to kill his family. He has not seen his wife in a long time. She and their two children are also hiding. He is waiting to see if he can bring them to join him here in this safe place. He asks us to pray for him. I see desperation in his eyes. ”Remember me,” he says.

“Brother, how did you come to know Jesus Christ?” I ask him directly.

Mr. J* answers me in English. “I am a Muslim believer. I read the Koran.” He notices the surprise on my face. “There are seven key points in the Koran which point to Jesus Christ as Savior. I will show any Muslim these points. The answer is clear.”

Another Muslim believer joins in, “Yes, Mr. J* often sits on the bus and God will place two Muslims next to him. By the end of the bus ride, those men will know who Jesus Christ is!”

Muslim believer. This phrase perplexes me.  I think on it for a moment and the Spirit provides a sudden flash of understanding: Muslim describes his culture. Believer, his faith. I, coming from a Christian culture, am a Christian believer. But coming from a Christian culture does not necessarily make me a believer in Jesus Christ.

Mr. J* interrupts my thoughts by looking me straight in the eye. “Do you have a heart for Muslims?”

A bold question. It cuts deep to my heart. “Well, God is working that in me right now.” Honesty is the only way to answer such a question.

He smiles. “God does not only love Christians, you know,” he says to me.

Well of course not, I think. “For God so loved the world.”

But then I realize the depth of that verse: this means Muslims as well as Christians. There is no exception based on culture.

“Do you have a Bible?” Mr. J* asks. “I will show you what God says about my people.”

“Turn to Jude, read verses 22-23,” Mr. J* commands.

I read out loud, “And have mercy on those who doubt; save others by snatching them out of the fire; to others show mercy with fear, hating even the garment stained by the flesh.”

“Now, turn to Ezekiel.” Mr. J* directs me to chapter 3, verses 17-18.

I read the passage, seeing for the first time that God is telling his prophet, You who know the truth are responsible to tell those who are perishing. If you do not, their blood is on your hands.

Mr. J* looks at me once more. “You must tell share the truth with the Muslims.”

My heart is racing. I don’t know what to say. Mr. J*’s rights have been taken from him. But he gives them up willingly, because he knows that there is something far better for him. He knows that this life is not the end.

Here is a man who has lost so much - his community, his home, his comfort. What right do I have to cling to mine? This man speaks with passion, conviction, and peace. What right do I have to passive? This man is running for his life and yet he continues to be bold and share the truth of Jesus Christ to those who are perishing. What right do I have to remain silent?

*Names have been changed to protect the safety of those involved in the meal.