I grew up in the city. As a result, I am very accustomed to Han people and their ways. In fact, many of my friends are Han. Although my husband is Hui, his mother is Han. I do not wear a headcovering and I honestly do not think much about my religion. Of course, I do not eat pork, and I enjoy celebrating our Muslim holidays. I have heard about Jesus and about what Christians belief. If I were to believe this, even though my family is not very devout, they would disown me. I was born a Muslim, and therefore I must stay a Muslim.
The rules of Islam are enforced by the elder women in her community, so to avoid their rebuke, she follows the outward, visible rules. Inwardly, however, Ling just wants to feel loved and find purpose in life.
Ning was already fighting an uphill battle. She was born and reared in a Muslim family but became a Christian as a young adult. She and her husband were learning to handle the stress of being the only Christians in their families at the same time as becoming first-time parents. Then Ning’s husband got very sick, very quickly. Even though he fought the battle as hard as he could, he died way too young, leaving behind his wife and baby boy.
Her heart is in two locations, half where her older daughters are and the other half with her younger two. “It’s just the only way to make money and provide for our family,” she says. “Now that we’ve made this decision, there’s just no way to change it.”
Individuality calls for unique approaches to every Hui person. The same presentation of the gospel may be extremely effective for one person while relatively off-putting for another. Although my friend was a staunch Muslim, she was extremely open to the worldview presented in the Bible, because my Christian friends and I engaged her unique perspective with the gospel. My friend is a good reminder that contextualization extends even to the individual.