How would you feel if, every morning about 30 minutes before the first rays of dawn, a loudspeaker echoed through your neighborhood, proclaiming in Arabic, “Allahu akbar, god is greater, there is no god but god, and Muhammad is his prophet . . .”?
I can tell I’ve gotten a good night’s sleep when I wake up later in the morning without having heard the first call to prayer. When this takes place in my neighborhood—and it happens five times a day—it makes me think of the apostle Paul’s response to a city worshiping false gods, “Now while Paul was waiting for them at Athens, his spirit was provoked within him as he saw that the city was full of idols” (Acts 17:16), and I remember God’s promise in Psalm 63:11, “But the king shall rejoice in God; all who swear by him shall exult, for the mouths of liars will be stopped.”
So, how would you respond if you started hearing the Islamic call to prayer in your city? And why does this happen in mine? I’m glad you asked.
About 17 years ago, when I was living in my upper-middle-class neighborhood in a suburban metropolis in the US, the God of Scripture confronted me about my own heart toward Muslims. Whenever I would see a Muslim man or woman in my neighborhood, my internal narrative was not, I wish I could get to know that person so I could tell him or her about Jesus. No, to my shame, it was more like, Why don’t they take their robes and camels back to where they came from.
Then God impressed upon me, Alan, you deserve hell just as much as every Muslim you couldn’t care less about. The only difference between you and them is that someone brought you the gospel. He sovereignly exposed me to the staggering number of unreached Muslims living with no gospel witness.
Why is nobody going to them to make disciples? I asked myself. Then I considered, If most Christians think about them the way I did, it makes perfect sense. At best, we are afraid of them; at worst, we hate them and have no concern for their eternal destiny.
I was in my mid-40s, well into my career at a multinational corporation, and I had my sights set on early retirement. My dear wife had a great job, we made lots of money, we had a beautiful home, and our two early teen boys were well adjusted at school and church. I had our future all planned out. We were on track to retire early, pay off our mortgage, buy an RV, and spend our days fly fishing.
God had a different plan. Through a series of providential appointments, I had the opportunity to visit a Muslim-majority country in North Africa.
One afternoon during my first visit, I sat in a mud-and-stone home in a rural village, having lunch with about 20 other people—several of whom were new believers, including the owner of the house. To my surprise, we discovered a cow living in one of the rooms! Turning to one of the national believers, I asked, “Why does he have a cow living in his house? Why doesn’t he let it out to graze in the fields?”
The man replied, “He’s afraid the evil eye will kill it; it’s how he feeds his family.”
This lack of biblical understanding shocked, saddened, and convicted me. I lived in a city where there was some type of church on almost every major street and where I could purchase a Bible within minutes of my home, but these believers had few biblical resources in their language and even fewer churches in their region. God showed me that I had blood-bought brothers and sisters living in spiritual infancy in this dark land, and they desperately needed discipleship.
God showed me that I had blood-bought brothers and sisters living in spiritual infancy in this dark land, and they desperately needed discipleship.
When I arrived home, I told my wife that I thought God was calling us to leave our lives in the US to go and make disciples among these unreached Muslims. Over the next three years, we were appointed by our local church to serve in this North African field. We went through much training and preparation, quit our jobs, sold 90 percent of our earthly possessions, and said many difficult goodbyes.
As we were preparing to go, I heard a brother speak about the desperate need for field workers to be sent to the Muslim world and the reality that very few were going. His thought-provoking appeal highlighted two necessary means of reaching Muslims: going to communities around the world currently without gospel access to live among them, build relationships, and introduce the hope of Christ; and intentionally reaching out to the Muslim immigrants in our own nation. He reflected, “I think if we don’t go to them, God will bring them here to us.”
Neighbors Needed
How did you sleep last night? Did you hear the call to prayer broadcast through your neighborhood, or did a heavy burden for those living without Christ interrupt your dreams? Is God bringing unreached Muslims into your community? What is your internal heart conversation when you see a Muslim in your neighborhood? Is the one true God of Scripture calling you to get involved? This world is not our home. We have been entrusted with the eternal, life-giving gospel message.
Would you like to come join us in our neighborhood? My spirit is provoked within me five times a day when I hear the call to prayer ring through our city and others across North Africa and the Middle East. I plead with the triune God of Scripture to use me and our church members to shut the mouths of the men shouting these demonic calls to come, bow down toward a black rock in the Middle East, and pray to a god who neither hears nor saves.
Jesus is worthy to be worshiped by every image bearer in my country and across the unreached regions of the world. He shed his blood to purchase people from every tribe, language, people, and nation—including every Muslim nation (Revelation 5:9).
Please join us in praying for fruit from the many gospel seeds that have been sown, and consider asking God to send you to be our neighbor and partner in ministry. He alone gives his beloved sleep.
