Changing Perspectives
I realized recently that I know very little about Islam. Six months ago, my exposure to Muslims was limited to what I saw on the news, the men and women I saw sometimes when I traveled, and other people’s opinions. If anyone had asked me then about the Hui people in particular, I’d have asked, “The who people?” Even living among the Hui now, sometimes it’s easy to make broad assumptions about how they might react to the Gospel, about what they believe, about their character.
This is shown in the first thing one Hui woman said to a friend of mine: “I’m not like Bin Laden.” She and many Hui people have a pretty accurate idea of how Westerners often view Muslims, and, as the above quote quite obviously indicates, they don’t agree with it.
More and more recently the fact has been wearing on me that many people’s views of all Muslims are based primarily on the awful acts committed by some. To many, particularly to those in the United States, Muslims are viewed as monstrous, as people to be hated, feared, or both.
Yes, Muslims are sinners. So am I. Yes, some have committed terrible crimes. So have many, many people. This is not meant to lessen the value of lives lost or belittle the grief felt by so many. This is meant to show truth and, I hope, cause you to think about the stereotype that’s been assigned to Muslims as a whole.
We had the privilege of hosting a few visitors in our city recently, and one of them explained to us how God is changing his view of Muslims. As our friend shared, he had to stop a time or two to hold back tears. Here’s his story:
My dad began going to the mission field in the mid-1980s, when I was in middle school. My greatest desire at that time was to go with him to Honduras, where he helped with water and building projects. Honduras was quite dangerous then because fighting from Nicaragua had spilled over and was causing turmoil. I was told that I couldn’t go until I was sixteen, so I did what I could to prepare and began taking Spanish in school. Almost six years later, I was able to accompany my dad to Honduras, turning sixteen while I was there.
Over the years, as multiple trips were taken to Honduras, my family developed a wonderful relationship with a missionary couple we served with. Just after the first Gulf War, this couple felt the Father calling them to serve in Iraq. Although they were nearing retirement, they had a desire to help the war torn country and decided to go. My dad was asked to go as well, on a short term trip. Having reached adulthood at that point, I saw no reason not to join him, but he thought differently.
While there, they were able to install water purification systems that were desperately needed at hospitals – All the while being shot at by opposing forces. I had quite a negative view of Muslim people at that time because of the war. I felt it reasonable for all Muslims to die rather than lose one American life. I only wanted to go to Iraq so I could be back on the field and be reunited with the couple my family and I had become such good friends with.
Just a few months after my father’s return from that short term trip, he had a massive heart attack. While he was recovering, our friends in Iraq called and asked if he could travel there again, but he had to say no. Soon afterward, they and others were traveling in a vehicle that was hit by an RPG and battered with machine gun fire. Everyone in the car was killed. My dislike for Muslims quickly turned to hatred.
With the exception of a short trip to Mexico, my time on the mission field had reached a standstill. People from my church went to Africa, but I had no desire to go. It wasn’t until my church, under the leadership of a new pastor, began seeking a UPG in East Asia that I again began to think about volunteer missions. But as the church prayed for God to make His will known, I did nothing.
I knew I needed to get back to the mission field, but I continued to fight the anger I was holding onto toward Muslims. My church felt God leading them to the Hui people. Again I felt nothing, but I still knew in my heart that I needed to be a part of the work that was to be done.
Last year, I was able to travel to China and interact face to face with the Hui people. The trip changed my heart and thoughts toward the Hui and all Chinese Muslims in ways that are difficult to explain. I didn’t see terrorists threatening my life. I saw kind, hospitable people willing to invite strangers into their homes for dinner. I saw people who are curious and friendly. Most of all, I saw people who are on a path to Hell, worshipping a god that doesn’t exist, going through motions that generations before have gone through and which lead nowhere. Now, my view of Muslims is that they’re just like all those who are Lost; they’re in desperate need of a Savior, and it’s our job as His servants to share the love of Christ with as many of them as we can.
Please pray that believers around the world will see the love God has for His created ones and that He desires for “all people to be saved and to come to a knowledge of the truth” (NIV, 1 Timothy 2:4) – not people of a select nationality or race, not people of a certain color or who speak a specific language.
‘Turn to me and be saved, all you ends of the earth; for I am God, and there is no other. By myself I have sworn, my mouth has uttered in all integrity a word that will not be revoked: Before me every knee will bow; by me every tongue will swear.’ NIV, Isaiah 45:22-23
After this I looked, and there before me was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language, standing before the throne and before the Lamb. They were wearing white robes and were holding palm branches in their hands. NIV, Revelation 7:9