musalaha

A fascinating study from LifeWay on Protestant pastor views of Islam. The results are not surprising even if they remain disappointing. Go here for a Christian Post article on the survey, here for LifeWay’s assessment, and here for a wonderful Power Point presentation of their study with wonderful full-color charts.

As part of my scholarly reading, I am exploring Islamic feminism, women in Islam, etc. I am presently in an unlikely source: Miriam Adeney’s Daughters of Islam. It is essentially an Evangelical perspective on Christian mission and Muslim women. A section in the Preface saddened me:

Why write a women’s book? Many well-researched books on Muslim ministry have rolled off the presses of the world …. However, secular research on Muslim women also sparkles with gems …. Unfortunately, few lay Christians or even mission executives read this material (p. 8).

She goes on to write that she regularly consults all of the relevant research which is so helpful to her. Knowing that so many Christians don’t do this, she decides to make some helpful research available to them in her book. This is noble, but it brings to mind two shortcomings prevalent in many Christian approaches to Islam: 1) no felt need to remain connected to relevant research that can and will affect one’s approach to Muslims (whether that is through mission or secular work); and 2) a marked distrust by Christians of secular or Muslim research on Islam. Adeney’s book will be read by Christians, not because it makes information available to them, but because it comes from a source they trust. How sad that so many are seemingly unwilling to not only make time to be familiar with research, but to consult the full range of relevant information.

A interesting piece in First Things by Gabriel Said Reynolds linked here.

A wonderful article in the Lausanne World Pulse by John Azumah, Director of the Centre for Islamic Studies and Christian-Muslim Relations at the London School of Theology. A Ghanaian, Azumah is also a graduate of the same British university and research centre as me.  His thoughts here on Christian responses to Islam are helpful and timely. The Ghanaian proverb he relates is particularly provocative:

… if someone deliberately breaks wind into your face and you muster all your muscles to take revenge, you could end up soiling yourself with stool.

With this in mind, Azumah counsels:

However we choose as Christians to respond to Islam, the question that should guide us is: What witness are we likely to leave behind in our response, and how will it serve the course of the gospel and our mandate as witnesses to that gospel?

Things have been quiet here for some time; I can’t imagine anyone is left reading this.  But in case there is anyone here … finishing up my Ph.D. thesis has drained much of my blogging initiative and creativity.  In the interest of keeping things up, however, I took note of Alister McGrath’s Heresy: A History of Defending the Truth whilst browsing a local bookstore recently. The book is a modest contribution, but does make a wider audience of readers aware of bits of Christian history that they might not otherwise read.

I took special interest in his last chapter titled “Heresy and the Islamic View of Christianity.”  The chapter is an honest and relatively helpful summary that includes a fair amount of history sketching out early Christian-Muslim theological interaction. McGrath discusses Islam’s early reliance and/or encounter with heretical forms of Christianity. Whilst this is a worthy notion to consider, there is a tendency within Western Christianity to use the schism between Church traditions as a scapegoat for heresy in general. In this view, Islam arose because of rampant heresy in the Christian East. In fact, some of the wider Church’s most informed engagement with Islam comes from these very traditions. In this light, readers must use caution when evaluating these early encounters and the role of, say, varying Christologies (I’m not suggesting McGrath errs here, but I’ve seen the mistaken argument in countless other places).

In any case, near the end of the chapter, a statement of greater significance stood out.  McGrath closes off his study by urging readers to take note of medieval Christian-Muslim doctrinal discussion, for it is a field of study we could learn much from. McGrath leaves readers with the sense that nothing is currently being done in such a field and that there is a veritable gold mine of as yet untouched information. In fact, there is a strong number of scholars, including yours truly, engaged in just such a field of study and who are building on a strong heritage of scholarly work. Yet McGrath fails to adequately state this or point readers towards helpful studies in this regard. A simple sentence and a footnote could have taken care of this oversight.

One of the joys of living in Britian, for us, was the proximity of European football.  When it came to the British Premiere League, we (hopelessly) supported Aston Villa.  Close friends of ours were supporters of a local rival team and they would not hesitate to foist their team’s anthem upon us whenever we were together.  Part of the anthem repeats a certain derogatory line directed at Aston Villa fans and is even popularized with the acronym S.O.T.V. (S**t On The Villa).  Though only meant in jest, our friends even began to include that portion of the jingle in prayers for meals when we ate together.

Such is the nature of European football fans, and it was with that in mind that my interest was piqued the other day when I noticed a story on the BBC connecting a bundesliga team with local Muslim concern.  Apparently the anthem sung by FC Schalke 04 fans (“Blue and White, How I Love You” ["Blau und weiß, wie lieb ich Dich"]) includes the line “Muhammad was a prophet who understood nothing about football.”  This is followed by, “But of all the lovely colors he chose [Schalke's] blue and white” (Mohammed war ein Prophet, der vom Fussballspielen nichts versteht. Doch aus all der schoenen Farbenpracht hat er sich das Blau und Weisse ausgedacht).

I am not aware of the history behind these lines or when they originated, but they have stirred up some concern of late among local Muslims.  Team officials have had the good sense to consult local Islamic authorities.  I am hoping for some sort of follow-up story because I am as confused as everyone involved must be.

I’m currently reading a book on Benedictine hospitality and found this passage regarding our fear of strangers (and 9/11 in particular) rather provocative:

We comfort ourselves by thinking, “But it isn’t an unreasonable fear. Some awful things have happened and they have been done by men who look a certain way.” Contrary to the comforting lies we tell each other, this kind of fear is unreasonable. Every person of Middle Eastern descent [which in itself is not an entirely accurate statement in context] is not responsible for the big, awful thing that happened. Timothy McVeigh did not cause people to fear every white male, not unless you already thought white guys were dangerous [emphasis added].

The horror of September 11, 2001, did not create bigotry against Muslims; it incited existing bigotry. It fed a silently held bigotry already alive in a dark corner of our hearts. It uncapped a quietly seething suspicion (p. 8).

As I process these assertions I am tempted to find ways in which 9/11 did create bigotry; that the hate some exhibited in response may not have been latent. But inside me I feel a check that suggests it often was.

In the best possible circumstances, we needn’t always condemn ourselves when we discover an unknown ugliness that had previously hidden itself within us. What is important is that we refuse to act upon those latent feelings, choosing instead to find ways of correcting them.