Respect and Truth

“You should be fasting,” a taxi driver said to me just a few minutes into the ride home. I don’t make a habit of talking to taxi drivers, but this one seemed determined. I counted it as a chance to engage in Arabic conversation with a stranger – someone I had never seen, and would likely never see again. “Ramadan is an opportunity to earn rewards,” he told me.

As I listened, I realized that I understood what he was saying. “Lack of Arabic ability” is no longer a reason not to engage in conversation, I thought. So I replied, “Yes, fasting is important. And I respect Ramadan,” I said, implying that I don’t eat and drink in public. “Jesus talked about fasting, too.”

“Of course! The Qu’ran says that all of the prophets fasted. Mohammed told us…” As he continued, I realized that he wasn’t talking about respect for Ramadan or for Islam – he was talking in terms of concern for my eternal destiny. And he wasn’t going to let me interrupt his evangelism.

“This life isn’t the end,” he said. “Like you here – you are here studying Arabic. But what if you came here and then just wasted your time going out with your friends and having fun, and you went home and hadn’t learned any Arabic? It would be for nothing. Empty. It’s like our lives here: We were created to thank God – in everything that we do. We pray, we fast, we give to the poor, and we go to Mecca (if we are able), so we can go to Paradise.” I looked into his review mirror and saw his impassioned face as he said, “You know, we Muslims are afraid for you Christians, because you don’t believe the right thing. I don’t want you to go to hell. How could I hear on Judgment Day, ‘Why didn’t you tell that girl the truth?’”

We had just pulled up to my neighborhood circle. I was truly grateful for his concern. “Thank you, amo” (amo is a term of respect which literally means “uncle”). He encouraged me to the read the Qu’ran and I encouraged him to read the Injil (Gospels). He assured me that he has both the Old and the New Testaments and that he reads them. I thanked him again, paid him, and walked home.

Did I miss an opportunity to share what I believe? Maybe. I have to admit, he was a better evangelist than I. I didn’t have the words or the tools ready to try and convince him of the truth of who Jesus is. At the same time, I don’t regret the conversation at all, because I think it was the Holy Spirit’s way of reminding me of the urgency of our message.

I live in a city (perhaps one of just a few in the region) that has embraced a certain understanding of tolerance. Muslims and Christians live and work side by side. Respect for each others’ beliefs is implied at some level. (“Christian” meaning someone whose family has been “Christian” for generations. A different reality is applied in regard to those from a Muslim background who choose to follow Christ – they are often not well-accepted by either community.) The general acceptance of Christians means that I can have open doors of conversation with people on a regular basis. But my taxi driver reminded me of a sobering reality: At the root, truth is more important than respect. Of course, I don’t want to ever close a door to sharing with someone by being disrespectful. At the same time, time is short, and people are headed toward eternity without Christ. My respect for an individual must always lead towards proclamation of Jesus – never away from it. My love for the person, my concern for their eternity, and my commitment to the glory of Jesus must supersede my respect for their beliefs.

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Thank you to all who have been praying for me and the relationships I’ve shared with about here and in my updates. Your prayers are making an impact! Ever since God opened some significant doors a couple of weeks ago, I daily see Him open doors of conversation. Every day is a surprise. Please continue to pray!