The Indian state we have been living in for the past three and half weeks—called Uttar Pradesh—is one of the most resistant to the gospel and gospel influence. It has the highest concentration of unreached people groups in all of India, is a hub of Hindu radicalism, and is home to both the Taj Mahal and Varanasi, the Mecca of Hinduism. For an estimate on how many people live here, shove the entire population of the United States into a space the size of California. Here, Hindu radicals bomb churches because the pastor is hosting westerners. As a friend of ours put it, “Cows have more freedom than people—at least they can sleep where they want.”
We expected to be doing ministry with Indian Hindus or the underground Indian church. Instead, we spent the majority of our time with international Muslims from Afghanistan, Morocco, and Bangladesh.
On one of our first metro rides through the city, we noticed a University. I told my team I wanted to go back, reasoning that this would be a good place to make friends who spoke English. The next day, however, Becca got really sick—fever and all—so we took her to the clinic. While Elijah and Laura Leigh waited with her, Jake and I set out to explore some buildings we had seen from the metro. We ended up in a part of the city that used to be a palace complex. As we were walking, we came to a crossroads.
“Which way?” said Jake.
“Let’s go there,” I said, pointing to an elaborate gate. It wasn’t where we’d intended, but I figured we could easily come back if it was a dead end.
On the other side of the gate we found a chaiwalla (someone who serves chai tea) and samosas so we decided to stop for food. The person in front of us—a shorter, dark-skinned young man wearing pajama bottoms—started speaking fluent English. His name was Jignesh, from Bangladesh. He was an international student at the University and, wouldn’t you know it, we happened to be right next to door to his dorm.
He took us back to the dorm so he could change (we had invited him to come to the park with us). While there, we meet Khalil and Rafiq, both from Afghanistan, also on the same scholarship as Jignesh.
We didn’t know it at the time, but these three men would become some of our closest friends. After a week of hosting us, (By the way, Afghani people are incessant hosts. I defy you to try and pay for anything—even a water bottle on the side of the street—when they’ve set their mind on hosting you.) we finally convinced them to introduce us to some girls. That’s how we met Amira and Yoanna, from Morocco.
Whenever anybody meets us, they first wanted to know, “why this city?” and then, “when will you go back?”. This inevitably leads to a conversation about where we are going and why, and we always have hard decisions to make when answering. When I first met the girls, I decided to be bold and told them we were part of a Christian traveling group. The conversation didn’t really move past that, although I did get to ask a few questions about what they believed. For example, Amira wears a hijab (head covering) and eats halal (Muslim version of kosher), but Yoanna does not. As Yoanna explained, “You’ve been to Morocco, so you know. It’s a personal choice.”
Over the next few days we continued to plan outings with them—sometimes all together, sometimes with only one friend. On one particularly hilarious day Amira and Yoanna invited us to a girls night which turned into a nighttime biking trip and elaborate dinner with 15 people from 5 different countries (USA, Morocco, Afghanistan, East Swatini, and Mauritius). We even got our picture taken for the local newspaper! The evening ended in a sleepover—or, rather, a stay-over, because we stayed up until 4am playing truth or dare.
We had so much fun getting to know them and exploring the city, but opportunities to talk about Jesus are few and far between when you’re biking in the park or exploring a labyrinth inside an Imambara (Muslim tomb commemorating martyrs). As our departure grew closer, my sense of urgency increased. Our friends come from countries where proselytizing is illegal and conversion is punishable by death. They believe Christians are polytheistic, and what they see in the media paints America (and by extension, Christians) as immoral, extravagant, unhealthy, and irreverent. In the face of the barriers both our cultures have stacked against Christians, sometimes the best witness we can have is simply to embody the truth. Even so, I felt like we were doing our new friends a disservice if we didn’t have the chance to at least talk about Jesus before parting ways.
Friends, our God is good.
He is able to sovereignly orchestrate things beyond our ability to comprehend.
And HE ANSWERS PRAYERS.
The first of the breakthroughs happened in a coffee shop at the top of a nearby mall where Jignesh met us after a last-minute invitation. Upon hearing that Becca and Laura Leigh were doing a Bible study, he asked if he could disrupt them. He’d never seen a Bible before, and asked reverently if he could touch the pages. Later, the girls left, so Jake, Elijah and I played a board game on his phone.
After the game, our conversation turned to Christianity. At this point we had had many conversations with Jignesh about the differences between Islam and Christianity. This was different, though, because at one point, Jignesh looked at me and said, point-blank:
“So, what do you believe?”
Friends, I don’t know if you’ll ever get a better invitation than that.
I immediately whipped out my hands and pressed them together like I was praying. Using one hand to represent Allah (God) and one hand to represent humanity, I explained how we had sinned, turning away. Because of this, Allah, in his holiness, had to turn away from us. But because Allah wanted us to be part of his family, he sent Isa (Jesus) down to earth. Isa exchanged his glory and honor for our shame by dying the most shameful death on a Roman cross. But it doesn’t end there, because Allah raised Isa to life, restoring Him to honor and extending this offer of honor to us. Now Allah is able to turn his face back to us and forgive us, welcoming us back into his family, but it is our responsibility to swear allegiance to Isa. Anyone who does receives Isa’s honor to cover over their shame. They are made new. When Allah looks at us now, he sees Isa.*
You may think that was a wonderful presentation of the gospel, and very clear. But because he is a good Muslim, Jignesh had many questions.
First, Christians claim Isa is the Son of Allah, but to a Muslim, Allah could not have sons. He does not beget (as a man would) anything. To say that He does is both dishonoring and irreverent. The easy answer to this is to explain that Christians believe Isa and Allah are one, and that Isa is Allah in human form. But this also causes confusion, because Allah would never debase himself by taking on human form.
Second, Christians worship Isa. But since Isa was a prophet and Allah is God, Muslims see Christians as polytheistic, which is considered the highest form of heresy in Islam. (There isn’t even a word in English to describe how bad it is.) And just wait until you add the Holy Spirit!
Third, Muslims don’t believe Isa died, but rather that he was taken up to heaven like the prophet Elijah and is waiting there to come back down at the end of days.
We spent the rest of our evening explaining the trinity and emphasizing how Isa’s death and resurrection is the cornerstone of our faith. Many times we turned the conversation back to Isa, explaining that he is everything to us. If he was not raised, our faith is useless.
Jignesh listened carefully, contemplating everything. A few days later, as we said goodbye, Jake gave him a Bible in English. He touched it to his head (the most honorable place on the body), insisted we all sign it, and gave Jake and Elijah a triple hug, which is the highest honor in Bangladesh. Jake promised to read the Koran and text him questions, and Jignesh promised the same with the Bible.
It was so sad to say goodbye to Jignesh. And to be honest, if all that came out of our connections was to share Jesus with him and pass on a Bible, coming to India would have been worth it. But I still felt as though there was more to happen with our other friends: Khalil, Rafiq, Amira, and Yoanna.
And then we came to Agra, the City of Love.
Early on, we had told these four friends of our plan to see the Taj Mahal. The Afghani boys immediately suggested coming with us, but never set any plans. A few weeks later, we found out the girls had planned to spend a weekend in Agra, but their trip fell through when the driver backed out.
When we were ready to book tickets, we extended an invitation to both sets of friends. For a few days it wasn’t looking good. I had a strong feeling about Agra, and really wanted our friends to join us there. We were running out of time, and with them constantly in school, opportunities to hang out were few and far between. I texted my WhatsApp supporters, asking for them to pray that our friends could come. Within 48 hours, both our Afghani and Moroccan friends confirmed that not only were they coming, but they were also staying in the same hostel, on the same floor!
We all arrived in Agra on October 25, the first day of Diwali, the Indian festival of lights. Since our friends were arriving after midnight, my team decided to do sunrise boating on their own. They’d heard a rumor that they could hire someone to take them out on boats behind the Taj for a fraction of the cost to enter.
I announced I would stay behind. They did their best to guilt trip me into going, and for a moment there, I strongly considered it—even set an alarm—but felt that the Lord was asking me to stay and take the rare moment of privacy to reconnect with Him. The next morning I climbed up to the roof-top cafe, ordered some coffee, and spent the morning reflecting and praying.
Around 9:00 am, Amira joined me. We chatted for a bit, eventually getting around to why Christianity has so many denominations—the first time we had chatted about religion.
“It’s like this,” I said. “There are certain things that you have to believe to be a Christian. Kind of like essential beliefs.”
I had planned to go on and explain secondary and tertiary issues, but as I took a breath, Amira interrupted. “And those are?”
Again, Jesus opened a door right in my face. So I raised my hands and explained the gospel to her just like I’d explained it to Jignesh a few days before.
Amira had the same questions as Jignesh, which provided fodder for the next two hours of conversation. We ran out of time eventually, but Amira did share that she was so glad we’d had the conversation, that she loves learning about different religions and has been especially curious about Christianity, that she wanted me to talk a little more about the Trinity because she wasn’t sure she understood it (who does, lol), and that she has been interested in reading the Bible but wasn’t sure which version to get.
All in all, we left the conversation saying we would definitely continue the discussion later.
* * * * *
Our day started late and went long. We visited Agra Fort, and then ended up in a famous market around dinner. While there, we spotted a bookstore, so I went inside to see if they had a Koran in English. I’ve been trying to find one ever since reading A Wind in the House of Islam, which talks about different movements to faith in Muslim communities all around the world. The book claims that the Koran contradicts itself, and that the Koran contains evidence that Isa is the son of Allah and the only way to be saved. I wanted to see if it was true.
I felt a little guilty about dragging everyone into a bookstore. But only a little, because sure enough, they did have an English Koran.
My friends didn’t see what I’d purchased until we were waiting for a tuktuk to take us home. Once they realized, my Afghani friends instructed me—passionately—about how to read the Koran. This opened up a conversation with Amira, Yoanna, Khalil and Rafiq about whether they would ever consider reading a Bible. The Moroccan girls were open, but the Afghani boys wore distasteful looks. When I asked, they demurred.
That night, after beating Khalil soundly, first in ping pong, then in cards, we all traipsed up to the roof for a 10pm dinner and I set out to interrogate the boys about the strange look. The Moroccan girls were just as curious as I was.
“It is like this,” Khalil said. “In Afghanistan, we are 99% muslim. We do not have any opportunity to meet a Christian. Our teachers are muslim. Maybe reading the Bible would not seem so strange if we had teachers who were Christian while we are growing up.”
“But it’s illegal to be Christian in your country,” I said.
“Yes.”
“So then how would anyone ever meet a Christian?”
“It’s not just that,” Amira said. “The Bible has been changed. The earliest copy is 300 years after Isa lived.”
“Where are you getting that?” I said, and quickly explained that the earliest copies of the New Testament are dated to only ~30 years after Jesus lived. The Bible as a whole might be a different story, since it wasn’t fully compiled until the Council of Nicaea, but there are earlier manuscripts. I also explained that there were multiple manuscripts found in different places that have the exact same words—proof, again, that the Bible is true.
That was when we realized that my friends didn’t know the difference between the Bible and the New Testament. I ended up explaining that the Bible contains 3 out of 4 holy books in Islam: the Torah (The Law), the Zabur (Psalms), and the Injeel (New Testament).
“If the Bible could be proven to not have been changed, would you accept it as God’s word?” I asked Amira.
“Of course!” she said.
* * * * *
We ended up talking until 1:00am. I learned many interesting things about Afghanistan, Morocco, and Islam. I also got to share the gospel—again using Pastor Keating’s hand motions—to Khalil and Yoanna.
My friends insisted that Allah is forgiving, even for non Muslims, but reiterated what I’d learned in Wind in the House of Islam: the Koran does not contain assurance of salvation.
Finally, I said, “What it comes down to is this: how does Allah forgive? How could he forgive humanity when we are so shameful in every way?”
“Allah is the most forgiving and most merciful,” Khalil said. “Let us say there is a man who is a murderer and a jihadist, and he kills thousands of people. But, the night before he dies, he repents and turns away and asks for forgiveness from Allah. No one knows that he does this, and no one—not even him—knows that he will die the next day. When his death becomes known, everyone says that he deserved death. But Allah forgives him because he asked.”
“We have a story,” Amira said. “At the beginning, Satan was an angel. Allah created humankind and put them over the angels. Satan refused to bow to humans, so Allah was going to destroy him. But Satan asked for a favor: that he would be permitted to remain alive until the end of time. If Allah would give this forgiveness and mercy to him, who had betrayed him, how could he not give it to humans?”
“But you don’t know,” I said.
“No,” she said. “But we have faith that Allah is merciful. He is so powerful; he can do anything.”
“We believe Isa is the way Allah forgives us,” I said. “Isa’s sacrifice is how Allah is able to forgive and look on our shame—because Isa removes it through his death and resurrection.”
“But Allah would not come down to earth,” Amira said. “And he would never die. We are human, so we need human teachers to follow. That is why Allah sends the prophets.”
“This is exactly why Isa makes sense,” I told her. “He was Allah in human form. As you say, we need humans to follow, so Allah came down looking like a human. Now we must follow his teachings. But that is impossible because doing all that Allah commands is too difficult. The only way I am able to follow Isa’s life is because of the Holy Spirit—which is the same as Allah and Isa—inside of me, helping me to follow Allah.”
I then had to explain the Trinity to the others, who were confused. I used analogies of an egg and of the sun—the same ones I had used with Amira earlier—to explain that Christians believe in ONE God, not multiple. We also talked at length about Isa being Allah in human form, and how important this is to our faith.
At one point, Khalil was getting confused about the Isa = Allah idea. I was about to try a different method of explaining when, to my surprise, Amira turned to him.
“No,” she said, “It’s like this….”
I think Amira understood, toward the end. But Khalil and Rafiq still looked skeptical.
“Let her read the Koran,” Rafiq said. “Then she will not have any more questions.”
In the end, I didn’t convince any of my friends that Isa is the Way the Truth and the Life. But I also wasn’t trying to. It really was a perfect example of “life is ministry”, and a good case-in-point for why WR decided to take away Adventure days. Every moment we spent doing fun “Adventure Day” things with our friends led up to THE moment, when I had the opportunity to share about Jesus.
Likewise, our conversations may not have resulted in them deciding to follow Jesus, but now, the next time our friends meet a Christian—or even an American—they will be less likely to judge. They might be more open to conversation. And slowly, but surely, Isa might even capture their hearts.
We parted as even closer friends, with invitations on both sides to visit. Before we left, Khalil, Rafiq, and Amira all downloaded the Bible app and promised to read. My prayer—mirroring what they pray every day at sunrise—is that Allah would show them the True Way as revealed through His Son, Isa.
*While in India, our team has slowly been working through a book called 3D Gospel, which talks about the three cultural lenses (guilt/innocence, shame/honor, and fear/power). Every culture in the world is biased toward one of these lenses. As Americans, we see things from a guilt/innocence perspective. This means we value innocence and want to avoid guilt. Most cultures my team will visit, however, are shame/honor, meaning they value honor over innocence. They may do something defined as morally wrong (e.g. lie) in order to save face and maintain honor.
The book makes the case that a proper understanding of the gospel will include how Jesus saves us from guilt, shame, AND fear. I chose to focus on the shame/honor aspects of the gospel with Jignesh and Amira because their cultures look more from a shame/honor perspective rather than a guilt innocence perspective. My hope was that using this kind of language will lower the inherent cultural barriers.
