After one of my dearest friends and most faithful readers wrote a long, thoughtful comment on my previous post I realized that I hadn’t been as clear as I should have been with my statement that we should go out and meet Muslims instead of reading books about them. As I said in my response to her comment, I should have worded that sentence a little differently. My point was that at some point you need to quit absorbing information and start putting what you have to use. Here are the sources of information I’ve absorbed over the past decade or so on this issue:
1. Attended a seminar at our former church on avoiding cultural pitfalls when interacting with Muslim people, especially in the context of having them in your home. The people who organized the seminar had served in at least two Central Asian countries and knew what they were talking about. They put on a skit to reinforce these cultural norms: serving alcohol, using God’s name in vain (which you shouldn’t be doing anyway!), and public shows of affection toward your spouse. It was funny and entertaining, and I’ve never forgotten it.
2. Read the newsletters from and interacted with another couple from that same church who also served in Central Asia.
3. Joined a book club run by members in our current church. The first book that the group discussed was on Islam. I think we spent 12 weeks on it.
4. Read at least two books by Nabeel Qureshi, an outspoken Christian who was raised in a devout Muslim family and came to Christ through the consistent, thoughtful, and prayerful witness of Christian friends.
5. Read/listened to some material put out on Islam by an elder in our former church, Thabiti Anyabwile.
6. Attended two Henry Forums at our former church, both examining Islam, one from a rather academic standpoint and one from that of a Christian pastor serving on the ground in a Muslim country.
So all that is very well and good. But you know what? We lived for a decade with a Muslim family from Pakistan right across our back fence. They were the kindest people in the world; Jim and the dad enjoyed many a conversation over the fence. I interacted some with the daughter of the family. They brought a present over when Gideon was born. But did we ever have them over for a meal? No. Did we ever really witness to them? No, not really. We were so afraid of offending them that we were somewhat cowed. So, one might ask, what good did all of the above do us if, in the end, we never really put it to use?
Not much.