Simple Ways to Reach Out to Muslims (Ebook Shorts)

Carl Medearis

Description

Carl Medearis, an expert on Islam, shares simple, practical ways Christians can reach out to Muslim neighbors and co-workers. This is a selection from Muslims, Christians, and Jesus.

Sujets

• Islam
• Philosophie et théologie

Informations

• Publié par: Baker Publishing Group
• Date de parution: 01 avril 2012
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781441260628
• Langue: English

Extrait

Simple Ways to Reach Out to Muslims
Carl Medearis
© 2008 by Carl Medearis
Published by Bethany House Publishers 11400 Hampshire Avenue South Bloomington, Minnesota 55438 www.bethanyhouse.com
Bethany House Publishers is a division of Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan. www.bakerpublishinggroup.com
Ebook edition created 2012 The material in this ebook is a selection from Muslims, Christians, and Jesus by Carl Medearis.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means for example, electronic, photocopy, recording without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
ISBN 978-1-4412-6062-8
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.
Cover design by Dan Pitts
To Chris. This book is as much your story as it is mine.
Without you I wouldn’t understand people or love God like I do.
Acknowledgments
Two friends have encouraged me for years to write down these thoughts for others to read: Ted Dekker and Floyd McClung. Thank you, dear friends, for believing in me and for pushing me to stop running long enough to sit quietly and write.
Also a huge and special thank-you to my dear friend Samir K. You helped me understand Jesus in new ways and introduced me to the Arab world at a level far beyond my capability. You’re the best.
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Introduction
How to Reach Out in Friendship
About the Author
Back Cover
Introduction
This book began in 1983, when I first went to the Middle East. Back then, the majority of Americans, like me, knew little about the Middle East or Islam. The Reagan administration was in its first term, and Communism and the Cold War crowded the headlines. Baath-party socialist Saddam Hussein had been in power for only four years, and the secular government of Iraq was at war with its Shi’ite neighbor, the Islamic Republic of Iran. The news also brought us occasional stories about the Afghan campaign against Soviet troops, Libya’s Muammar Khaddafi as a top-shelf bad guy, and the Ayatollah Khomeini, who had replaced the CIA-sponsored Shah of Iran. Still, there was little to no fear or suspicion of Islam in the West, mainly because the reality of terrorism was not yet on our doorstep. All was quiet on the Middle-Eastern front.
Until 2001.
As the world watched smoke and ash spew into the Manhattan sky on September 11, 2001, I was (ironically) busy teaching a bunch of students in Kansas City about loving Muslims. In fact, I had just drawn a diagram on the white board showing how we so often think in an us-versus-them paradigm. I was literally erasing the line between the words us and them when someone burst into the room in tears telling us what had happened. The next week, our family returned home to Beirut on one of the first flights out of a deserted Chicago O’Hare airport. For days after our arrival we received a steady stream of visits and calls from friends saying how sorry they were. One friend, Ahmed (not his real name), came by our house, slumped into our couch, and rubbed his face with his hands. “Carl,” he said, “these terrorists have seriously hurt the peace we have worked so hard for.”
“What do you mean?”
“America will go to war,” he said, shaking his head, “and I am afraid that it will not end for years.”
“I know.”
“The West does not understand us. They see an Arab and they feel fear. They hear talk of Islam and they are suspicious. I am afraid that things will spiral out of control and that hatred will grow between my people and your people.” He sighed. “Again.”
“Ahmed,” I said, looking him in the eyes, “we are each other’s people. We are both followers of Jesus, friends of God, and brothers in a way that boundaries cannot take from us.” A tear slid down his face and he tried to wipe it away before I noticed.
My family and I lived in Lebanon from 1992 until 2004. If 9/11 was going to rip the world apart, we were going to do everything we could to stop it. We had worked long to build friendships, and the last thing we wanted was to let them be torn away by international politics, hatred, and misunderstanding.
In 2003, I made two trips into Iraq. The war in Iraq had torn up the status quo by the roots, and my Iraqi friends were practically pleading with us to come over.
It was surreal, to say the least. At the border, we halted at a coalition checkpoint and for the first time in years I heard the Midwestern accent of an American in the middle of the desert: “Welcome to Iraq; may I take your order?” The troops were enthusiastic GIs doing their job. We shook hands, exchanged pleasantries, and hit the road again, southbound for Basra.
A few weeks later, my life nearly ended, along with the rest of the team. As we returned north on the route at 160 clicks per hour, we were overtaken by a black Mercedes with one notable distinction: rifles. We were forced to the shoulder and escorted out of sight into the sand, below the lip of a wadi a dry riverbed. There we were dragged from our vehicle, then lined up in the sand on our knees, hearts pounding and palms sweating.