From Fear to Family

Other, Arab World

“I think I need to be honest,” the evangelist said, looking me straight in the eye. “I know that I am supposed to love the people I’m reaching out to, but when I think of Muslims, I think of terrorism, political posturing, and burqas. That’s why I’m here tonight: I need to learn to see the real people behind the stereotype of Islam.”

‘Here’ was a four-week series of seminars that I was running in Gloucester, UK, entitled Understanding your Muslim Neighbour. Aimed at people from local churches, the seminars were designed to inform and equip the churches, and help them build good relationships with their Muslim neighbours.

This is not the first such course that Urban Vision, Interserve’s cross cultural team in England and Wales, has held. Another course, called Friendship First, was developed by Steve Bell, the England and Wales National Director. About six weeks in length, the Friendship First course aims to bring about a deeper understanding of, and attitude change towards, our Muslim neighbours, and sums up the ethos of Urban Vision: how can we call anyone to Christ unless we first show them that they are loved?

Tim and Rachel Green have also developed an interactive course, which draws on the Friendship First material. It runs over ten weekday evenings, and helps people engage with their Muslim friends, and be able to present Christ to them in a culturally sensitive way. The most recent course (it runs every year in their home town) had nearly 40 participants from a dozen local churches. Now this model is spreading to other towns. The aim is for ordinary Christians to gain the vision, confidence and skills they need to share Christ with ordinary Muslim people. Mission to Muslims is not just a task for specialists!

The 2001 census revealed that about 1.6 million Muslims, from many different cultures and backgrounds, live in the UK. While that’s only 2.7% of the population, because of media coverage (including some Christian media approaches) and a certain strain of politically active Islam, many Britons have an underlying sense of fear and of ‘being taken over’.

Urban Vision is working towards breaking down that media-fed fear, and encouraging Christians to engage with Muslims in long term friendship. And as Christians step out of their comfort zones, lives are being changed and communities transformed – not just amongst Muslims, but also amongst those Christians who are reaching out.

While people from Muslim situations are used to living faith publicly, worshipping communally and praying together frequently, church-goers in the UK are used to praying in private and being slightly embarrassed about faith in public. To be open to the needs of new followers of Jesus from a Muslim background is to be challenged to be public, communal and family in ways that take us beyond our comfort zone, and modify our existing church structures.

And yet, isn’t this the challenge of Jesus Himself? Is this what we’re called to do and have maybe slipped away from?

Jesus calls us all to follow Him, from stereotype to neighbour, from fear to family. In doing so we too are changed and new family members are found and welcomed by the Father.

Colin Edwards is the Team Leader for Urban Vision. Originally from NZ, Colin is coming back on Home Assignment in August.

/작성자:

Mission to North Africa

Education, Arab World

Getting there had its surprises and challenges, such as being escorted off our flight in Dubai by two Emirati policemen, but our recent short-term mission trip to a Muslim-majority North African country was very successful.

We had been invited back (after a similar outreach last year) to teach conversational English at a university in the country’s secondlargest city. Three of the team made it into the country without any problems, but when Mitch and I tried to fly out of Dubai, after being assured by the university that our visas were waiting, we hit a snag. The airline wanted to ensure that our visas were in order, so we confidently gave them the university’s contact details, then talked our way onto the plane. And were promptly escorted off again when it was discovered the visas hadn’t yet been issued.

On our first evening there, we went for a walk after dinner through the vegetable market. Grace was enthusiastically taking photos when three policemen demanded her camera. When we refused, we were taken to the police station for questioning. We called the university who contacted the vice-chancellor who rang the Chief of Police, who then released us. Surprisingly, the incident had a positive outcome, as it raised our profile in the community, and we received cheery waves from the police wherever we went.

Over 70 took part in the course we taught, including the faculty from several universities and Masterslevel students. The course, called ‘Understanding, coping with, and implementing change’, was highly participative, and included stories from the Bible, connecting them with the concept of change. The team members established links with their students outside of class, visiting them in their homes or going out on trips or sharing meals with them.

These were opportunities for deeper sharing, talking about personal and spiritual issues. We prayed for some of our students at different times and the scriptures were shared.

In my speech at the closing ceremony, in the presence of the Vice Chancellor and the Dean, I told the students, “Over the past week and a half, we’ve heard stories of change in the lives of the prophets: Adam and Eve, Noah, Joseph, David, and Jesus. What was common in all these stories was the power and grace of God. These are not just historical stories of people who lived long ago – they are just as true for us today because God is alive and working today. It is true that as Christians and Muslims we will understand God’s work differently, but we can also declare that we all seek to serve and worship God as we best understand Him.”

There was a real sense of spiritual openness amongst the people, and it seems that widespread Sufism has softened some of the hard edge of the way Islam is practised. Our prayer is that God will continue to open up doors and hearts in this country.

/작성자:

Mission to North Africa

Education, Arab World

Getting there had its surprises and challenges, such as being escorted off our flight in Dubai by two Emirati policemen, but our recent short-term mission trip to a Muslim-majority North African country was very successful.

We had been invited back (after a similar outreach last year) to teach conversational English at a university in the country’s secondlargest city. Three of the team made it into the country without any problems, but when Mitch and I tried to fly out of Dubai, after being assured by the university that our visas were waiting, we hit a snag. The airline wanted to ensure that our visas were in order, so we confidently gave them the university’s contact details, then talked our way onto the plane. And were promptly escorted off again when it was discovered the visas hadn’t yet been issued.

On our first evening there, we went for a walk after dinner through the vegetable market. Grace was enthusiastically taking photos when three policemen demanded her camera. When we refused, we were taken to the police station for questioning. We called the university who contacted the vice-chancellor who rang the Chief of Police, who then released us. Surprisingly, the incident had a positive outcome, as it raised our profile in the community, and we received cheery waves from the police wherever we went.

Over 70 took part in the course we taught, including the faculty from several universities and Masterslevel students. The course, called ‘Understanding, coping with, and implementing change’, was highly participative, and included stories from the Bible, connecting them with the concept of change. The team members established links with their students outside of class, visiting them in their homes or going out on trips or sharing meals with them.

These were opportunities for deeper sharing, talking about personal and spiritual issues. We prayed for some of our students at different times and the scriptures were shared.

In my speech at the closing ceremony, in the presence of the Vice Chancellor and the Dean, I told the students, “Over the past week and a half, we’ve heard stories of change in the lives of the prophets: Adam and Eve, Noah, Joseph, David, and Jesus. What was common in all these stories was the power and grace of God. These are not just historical stories of people who lived long ago – they are just as true for us today because God is alive and working today. It is true that as Christians and Muslims we will understand God’s work differently, but we can also declare that we all seek to serve and worship God as we best understand Him.”

There was a real sense of spiritual openness amongst the people, and it seems that widespread Sufism has softened some of the hard edge of the way Islam is practised. Our prayer is that God will continue to open up doors and hearts in this country.

/작성자:

Life in a Muslim country

Other, Arab World

I get woken up at 4:30 in the morning… was it too much coffee or a bad dream? No, it is my neighbour’s door slamming below my window as he heads out to pray at the mosque nearby. I don’t bother to go back to sleep as he will be back again in just fifteen minutes, and will slam the door again.

Everyone is up and about early, getting off to work before 8 am. The school bus picks up the kids at 7.30 am. We always have a parent on the bus, as we live in a country where there is an ever-present risk of the unexpected.

If I go on the bus, I need to be dressed in very conservative, long clothes, and it is hot. My scarf slips off my head, and I somehow need to keep it readjusted without starting all over again. Thankfully there is no safety belt – that would just cause it to slip off more. But showing a bit of hair is okay, as I want to emphasise I am not a Muslim.

I’m thirsty: the rush of the morning meant I couldn’t wait for my hot coffee to cool. I have a muffin in my bag, and water. But because I am a woman, it would be very shameful for the driver if I was gulping water or nibbling on the muffin as we drive around. So I will wait the half hour or so in the heat until I get to school to drink and eat the rest of my breakfast.

There are many restrictions on women, but after a couple of years you don’t notice your invisibility attempts. The men still seem to shout out at any person walking down the street, though. Reminds me of how workmen used to wolf whistle back in New Zealand.

The kids come home at 1:30pm for lunch – the lunch-time prayer was a good hour before this. Their school day has finished. Everything goes quiet as most people rest or sleep during the hottest part of the day.

You know when the siesta has finished, another loud call of the mosque… who needs a watch? We slowly get busy again, time for visiting the neighbours and catching up with the family news. Again, I will dress conservatively with long sleeves, long skirt or trousers. Really I should be in the black covering because then I can wear what I like underneath. My girlfriends are dressed “to the nines” with makeup and jewellery and brightly coloured clothing. Because I walked to their house I couldn’t wear make-up… I don’t wear the face covering. And my white skin with make-up might give the local guys the idea that I am someone from “Hollywood” (the best and the worst).

My ‘alarm clock’ goes off again at 6pm-ish… the next mosque call. Told you I don’t need a watch. It is dark now and time to go home. I need to feed the kids so they can go off to bed for the early start tomorrow.

But we might get a visit after the last mosque call of the day from a local “believing” family – their kids are hopeful that they will have some playmates for soccer outside in our courtyard. I have to explain regretfully to them why my kids can’t play… they are asleep!

It is lovely to sit down with the family and chat. I kiss the woman on the cheek and hold her hand, and my husband gives a similar kiss to the man, and then shakes his hand. I must quickly go and make a sweet tea with some type of snack. I don’t ask them what they want… I just put it in front of them.

They will leave about 10pm. We will drive them home in our car as all the public transport has stopped. The area around us is silent. The shops closed at 9pm, although we live in a large village of over 500,000 people, but I think this is the way it has been done for centuries.

Living in a Muslim country affects our lives in many different ways. Each of my day’s activities and the way I go about each activity are guided by the surrounding religion and culture. They are so richly intertwined it is hard to know if anything is not touched by Islam’s reach.

/작성자:

Life in a Muslim country

Other, Arab World

I get woken up at 4:30 in the morning… was it too much coffee or a bad dream? No, it is my neighbour’s door slamming below my window as he heads out to pray at the mosque nearby. I don’t bother to go back to sleep as he will be back again in just fifteen minutes, and will slam the door again.

Everyone is up and about early, getting off to work before 8 am. The school bus picks up the kids at 7.30 am. We always have a parent on the bus, as we live in a country where there is an ever-present risk of the unexpected.

If I go on the bus, I need to be dressed in very conservative, long clothes, and it is hot. My scarf slips off my head, and I somehow need to keep it readjusted without starting all over again. Thankfully there is no safety belt – that would just cause it to slip off more. But showing a bit of hair is okay, as I want to emphasise I am not a Muslim.

I’m thirsty: the rush of the morning meant I couldn’t wait for my hot coffee to cool. I have a muffin in my bag, and water. But because I am a woman, it would be very shameful for the driver if I was gulping water or nibbling on the muffin as we drive around. So I will wait the half hour or so in the heat until I get to school to drink and eat the rest of my breakfast.

There are many restrictions on women, but after a couple of years you don’t notice your invisibility attempts. The men still seem to shout out at any person walking down the street, though. Reminds me of how workmen used to wolf whistle back in New Zealand.

The kids come home at 1:30pm for lunch – the lunch-time prayer was a good hour before this. Their school day has finished. Everything goes quiet as most people rest or sleep during the hottest part of the day.

You know when the siesta has finished, another loud call of the mosque… who needs a watch? We slowly get busy again, time for visiting the neighbours and catching up with the family news. Again, I will dress conservatively with long sleeves, long skirt or trousers. Really I should be in the black covering because then I can wear what I like underneath. My girlfriends are dressed “to the nines” with makeup and jewellery and brightly coloured clothing. Because I walked to their house I couldn’t wear make-up… I don’t wear the face covering. And my white skin with make-up might give the local guys the idea that I am someone from “Hollywood” (the best and the worst).

My ‘alarm clock’ goes off again at 6pm-ish… the next mosque call. Told you I don’t need a watch. It is dark now and time to go home. I need to feed the kids so they can go off to bed for the early start tomorrow.

But we might get a visit after the last mosque call of the day from a local “believing” family – their kids are hopeful that they will have some playmates for soccer outside in our courtyard. I have to explain regretfully to them why my kids can’t play… they are asleep!

It is lovely to sit down with the family and chat. I kiss the woman on the cheek and hold her hand, and my husband gives a similar kiss to the man, and then shakes his hand. I must quickly go and make a sweet tea with some type of snack. I don’t ask them what they want… I just put it in front of them.

They will leave about 10pm. We will drive them home in our car as all the public transport has stopped. The area around us is silent. The shops closed at 9pm, although we live in a large village of over 500,000 people, but I think this is the way it has been done for centuries.

Living in a Muslim country affects our lives in many different ways. Each of my day’s activities and the way I go about each activity are guided by the surrounding religion and culture. They are so richly intertwined it is hard to know if anything is not touched by Islam’s reach.

/작성자:

Opening Doors in the Arab World

Education, Arab World

It was almost midnight when the knock came at my hotel door. “The political security police are downstairs, wanting to question us,” my colleague informed me, looking very worried.

I was leading a team of eight Aussies, of diverse ages, occupations and ethnicities, and we’d been invited to teach at a university in this North African country. But it looked like we were now in big trouble, and I prayed silently as we walked down the stairs.

The plain-clothes policeman greeted us while his partner looked around. Then he asked (in Arabic), “Why have you come to our country? What are the objectives of your visit?”

My colleague, an Australian citizen who had been born in this country, answered him in Arabic: “We came to teach English at the university.”

“Is that all? What else have you been doing? Where have you been going?” the policeman demanded.

My colleague was very astute: “We’ve been sightseeing, and went out for dinner in your lovely town. Tonight we were the guests of the Dean of Engineering, Professor Ahmad.”

The policeman jerked backwards as though he had been hit. Professor Ahmad was politically powerful in this town, and we were clearly people not to be messed with. His attitude immediately changed. “Of course we are only concerned for your safety: we need to know your movements so we can protect you… we are sorry to inconvenience you.” He excused himself and they departed.

This event typified many aspects of our short-term trip. Every time we hit a dead-end or a crisis threatened, God opened up an unexpected door.

Even before we left Australia, the university that originally invited us pulled out, leaving us in the lurch two months before we were due to depart. A “chance” visit to a friend in another city in Australia landed me in the house of some Muslim friends of his. I mentioned my disappointment about having to cancel our trip. He immediately phoned his brother-in-law, who worked at a university in the country we’d been planning to visit. “They would love to have you,” he informed me, after he’d hung up the phone. A new door had opened.

Our two-week course, aimed at helping the university faculty teach English effectively, was very well received, and on the final day they held a celebration for us, and issued a heartfelt request for us to return. From the first day they knew that we were all followers of Christ, so we had opportunities to talk about our faith, and pray for course participants.

We also attended several churches, and were even able to bring a word of encouragement to some of them; however, it was mostly ourselves who went away encouraged. We visited various projects, including a medical clinic, a home for street kids, and a theological college, and were moved by the faith and courage of the Christians we met, both local and expatriate, who are serving Christ in very challenging and sometimes dangerous situations.

In this part of the Arab world where, as recently as ten years ago, Christians were being crucified in the streets, the church is growing. Christ’s followers are taking advantage of the (relative) political stability to share their faith with those who persecuted them. In places where unspeakable atrocities are taking place, the word of God is taking root, and it is bearing good fruit. Please pray for this country and its people: it faces a very uncertain political future, and desperately needs the peace only Christ can give.

/작성자:

Opening Doors in the Arab World

Education, Arab World

It was almost midnight when the knock came at my hotel door. “The political security police are downstairs, wanting to question us,” my colleague informed me, looking very worried.

I was leading a team of eight Aussies, of diverse ages, occupations and ethnicities, and we’d been invited to teach at a university in this North African country. But it looked like we were now in big trouble, and I prayed silently as we walked down the stairs.

The plain-clothes policeman greeted us while his partner looked around. Then he asked (in Arabic), “Why have you come to our country? What are the objectives of your visit?”

My colleague, an Australian citizen who had been born in this country, answered him in Arabic: “We came to teach English at the university.”

“Is that all? What else have you been doing? Where have you been going?” the policeman demanded.

My colleague was very astute: “We’ve been sightseeing, and went out for dinner in your lovely town. Tonight we were the guests of the Dean of Engineering, Professor Ahmad.”

The policeman jerked backwards as though he had been hit. Professor Ahmad was politically powerful in this town, and we were clearly people not to be messed with. His attitude immediately changed. “Of course we are only concerned for your safety: we need to know your movements so we can protect you… we are sorry to inconvenience you.” He excused himself and they departed.

This event typified many aspects of our short-term trip. Every time we hit a dead-end or a crisis threatened, God opened up an unexpected door.

Even before we left Australia, the university that originally invited us pulled out, leaving us in the lurch two months before we were due to depart. A “chance” visit to a friend in another city in Australia landed me in the house of some Muslim friends of his. I mentioned my disappointment about having to cancel our trip. He immediately phoned his brother-in-law, who worked at a university in the country we’d been planning to visit. “They would love to have you,” he informed me, after he’d hung up the phone. A new door had opened.

Our two-week course, aimed at helping the university faculty teach English effectively, was very well received, and on the final day they held a celebration for us, and issued a heartfelt request for us to return. From the first day they knew that we were all followers of Christ, so we had opportunities to talk about our faith, and pray for course participants.

We also attended several churches, and were even able to bring a word of encouragement to some of them; however, it was mostly ourselves who went away encouraged. We visited various projects, including a medical clinic, a home for street kids, and a theological college, and were moved by the faith and courage of the Christians we met, both local and expatriate, who are serving Christ in very challenging and sometimes dangerous situations.

In this part of the Arab world where, as recently as ten years ago, Christians were being crucified in the streets, the church is growing. Christ’s followers are taking advantage of the (relative) political stability to share their faith with those who persecuted them. In places where unspeakable atrocities are taking place, the word of God is taking root, and it is bearing good fruit. Please pray for this country and its people: it faces a very uncertain political future, and desperately needs the peace only Christ can give.

/작성자:

A Muslim wedding

Other, Arab World

The women bent over my hands and feet as I reclined on cushions on their visiting room floor. They made elaborate designs in henna, wanting me to look beautiful as I attended my first wedding in their country. They talked and laughed, anticipating the celebration that would take place in two days as their neighbour became a bride.

The preparations reminded me of Jesus’ story about being ready for a wedding: Once there were ten young women who took their oil lamps and went out to meet the bridegroom.

The next day, the feeling at the house of my new friends is one of expectation – today is the big day! The anticipation intensifies as we spend several hours dressing and perfuming our clothing and hair with incense. Finally we are ready!

As my friends and I arrive at the wedding hall, I discover that in spite of their efforts, I am underdressed.

My best dress is nothing compared to those around me! Women who normally look like black ghosts are now wearing dresses of every colour imaginable. Sequins and jewellery glitter everywhere. How beautiful the women are! Their laughing faces reflect their inner strength. Their lives are so difficult, yet they find such pleasure in dressing up and even more, in simply being together.

I happily join my friends on cushions on the floor. Music, provided by a band in another room, blares from loudspeakers. Women dance, as their mothers and grandmothers did before them. Finally an announcement is made and the bride arrives, with much fanfare! She wears a western style gown with a hoop skirt at least three feet wide; every inch is covered with sequins. She proceeds slowly up the aisle in the middle of the hall, surrounded by young women who chant blessings and hopes for many sons. Once in front of the hall, the bride sits on an ornate, throne-like chair. And the sense of anticipation grows. The climax is yet to come. The music, dancing and visiting isn’t our reason for being here. We’re waiting for the groom to come! I think again of Jesus’ story. He told the story of the wise and foolish virgins because he wanted his followers to be ready. These women (and I!) have spent days getting ready for this wedding, but they don’t even know about the one to come. How can they possibly be ready when they have no way of knowing the Bridegroom?

The hours stretch on. The conversations grow increasingly desultory and fewer and fewer women dance. My head pounds from the loud music. Four hours have passed and still we wait! In Jesus’ story, the waiting women fell asleep. They must have booked a different band, because surely no one could sleep surrounded by music at this decibel level!

Suddenly, the music stops. My ears ring in the silence, and then, over the loudspeakers a voice announces, “The groom is coming!” All around me is a whirlwind of activity. Reclining women suddenly leap to their feet and fly into their overcoats and veils, changing back into black ghosts. Here is the groom! Finally, the days of preparation and waiting are finished!

In the middle of all the rejoicing, my heart is heavy. My friends here are not ready for the wedding that’s to come. They’ve never met the Bridegroom. Seeing them with covered faces reminds me again of how it veils their hearts and makes it impossible for them to see God clearly. They cannot understand how He loves them and longs for a relationship with them. I look forward to a wedding feast with Someone who calls me His beloved. All they have is a set of rules to try to keep, and a faint hope that a capricious judge will be kind.

In spite of the stranglehold of Islam in the country, I have hope that God is working here and that my friends will be part of the final marriage celebration. Please join the work here by praying that hearts will be open to the wooing of the Bridegroom.

Susan is an IS Partner from the USA, currently serving in the Arab World.

/작성자:

A Muslim wedding

Other, Arab World

The women bent over my hands and feet as I reclined on cushions on their visiting room floor. They made elaborate designs in henna, wanting me to look beautiful as I attended my first wedding in their country. They talked and laughed, anticipating the celebration that would take place in two days as their neighbour became a bride.

The preparations reminded me of Jesus’ story about being ready for a wedding: Once there were ten young women who took their oil lamps and went out to meet the bridegroom.

The next day, the feeling at the house of my new friends is one of expectation – today is the big day! The anticipation intensifies as we spend several hours dressing and perfuming our clothing and hair with incense. Finally we are ready!

As my friends and I arrive at the wedding hall, I discover that in spite of their efforts, I am underdressed.

My best dress is nothing compared to those around me! Women who normally look like black ghosts are now wearing dresses of every colour imaginable. Sequins and jewellery glitter everywhere. How beautiful the women are! Their laughing faces reflect their inner strength. Their lives are so difficult, yet they find such pleasure in dressing up and even more, in simply being together.

I happily join my friends on cushions on the floor. Music, provided by a band in another room, blares from loudspeakers. Women dance, as their mothers and grandmothers did before them. Finally an announcement is made and the bride arrives, with much fanfare! She wears a western style gown with a hoop skirt at least three feet wide; every inch is covered with sequins. She proceeds slowly up the aisle in the middle of the hall, surrounded by young women who chant blessings and hopes for many sons. Once in front of the hall, the bride sits on an ornate, throne-like chair. And the sense of anticipation grows. The climax is yet to come. The music, dancing and visiting isn’t our reason for being here. We’re waiting for the groom to come! I think again of Jesus’ story. He told the story of the wise and foolish virgins because he wanted his followers to be ready. These women (and I!) have spent days getting ready for this wedding, but they don’t even know about the one to come. How can they possibly be ready when they have no way of knowing the Bridegroom?

The hours stretch on. The conversations grow increasingly desultory and fewer and fewer women dance. My head pounds from the loud music. Four hours have passed and still we wait! In Jesus’ story, the waiting women fell asleep. They must have booked a different band, because surely no one could sleep surrounded by music at this decibel level!

Suddenly, the music stops. My ears ring in the silence, and then, over the loudspeakers a voice announces, “The groom is coming!” All around me is a whirlwind of activity. Reclining women suddenly leap to their feet and fly into their overcoats and veils, changing back into black ghosts. Here is the groom! Finally, the days of preparation and waiting are finished!

In the middle of all the rejoicing, my heart is heavy. My friends here are not ready for the wedding that’s to come. They’ve never met the Bridegroom. Seeing them with covered faces reminds me again of how it veils their hearts and makes it impossible for them to see God clearly. They cannot understand how He loves them and longs for a relationship with them. I look forward to a wedding feast with Someone who calls me His beloved. All they have is a set of rules to try to keep, and a faint hope that a capricious judge will be kind.

In spite of the stranglehold of Islam in the country, I have hope that God is working here and that my friends will be part of the final marriage celebration. Please join the work here by praying that hearts will be open to the wooing of the Bridegroom.

Susan is an IS Partner from the USA, currently serving in the Arab World.

/작성자:

A Muslim wedding

Other, Arab World

The women bent over my hands and feet as I reclined on cushions on their visiting room floor. They made elaborate designs in henna, wanting me to look beautiful as I attended my first wedding in their country. They talked and laughed, anticipating the celebration that would take place in two days as their neighbour became a bride.

The preparations reminded me of Jesus’ story about being ready for a wedding: Once there were ten young women who took their oil lamps and went out to meet the bridegroom.

The next day, the feeling at the house of my new friends is one of expectation – today is the big day! The anticipation intensifies as we spend several hours dressing and perfuming our clothing and hair with incense. Finally we are ready!

As my friends and I arrive at the wedding hall, I discover that in spite of their efforts, I am underdressed.

My best dress is nothing compared to those around me! Women who normally look like black ghosts are now wearing dresses of every colour imaginable. Sequins and jewellery glitter everywhere. How beautiful the women are! Their laughing faces reflect their inner strength. Their lives are so difficult, yet they find such pleasure in dressing up and even more, in simply being together.

I happily join my friends on cushions on the floor. Music, provided by a band in another room, blares from loudspeakers. Women dance, as their mothers and grandmothers did before them. Finally an announcement is made and the bride arrives, with much fanfare! She wears a western style gown with a hoop skirt at least three feet wide; every inch is covered with sequins. She proceeds slowly up the aisle in the middle of the hall, surrounded by young women who chant blessings and hopes for many sons. Once in front of the hall, the bride sits on an ornate, throne-like chair. And the sense of anticipation grows. The climax is yet to come. The music, dancing and visiting isn’t our reason for being here. We’re waiting for the groom to come! I think again of Jesus’ story. He told the story of the wise and foolish virgins because he wanted his followers to be ready. These women (and I!) have spent days getting ready for this wedding, but they don’t even know about the one to come. How can they possibly be ready when they have no way of knowing the Bridegroom?

The hours stretch on. The conversations grow increasingly desultory and fewer and fewer women dance. My head pounds from the loud music. Four hours have passed and still we wait! In Jesus’ story, the waiting women fell asleep. They must have booked a different band, because surely no one could sleep surrounded by music at this decibel level!

Suddenly, the music stops. My ears ring in the silence, and then, over the loudspeakers a voice announces, “The groom is coming!” All around me is a whirlwind of activity. Reclining women suddenly leap to their feet and fly into their overcoats and veils, changing back into black ghosts. Here is the groom! Finally, the days of preparation and waiting are finished!

In the middle of all the rejoicing, my heart is heavy. My friends here are not ready for the wedding that’s to come. They’ve never met the Bridegroom. Seeing them with covered faces reminds me again of how it veils their hearts and makes it impossible for them to see God clearly. They cannot understand how He loves them and longs for a relationship with them. I look forward to a wedding feast with Someone who calls me His beloved. All they have is a set of rules to try to keep, and a faint hope that a capricious judge will be kind.

In spite of the stranglehold of Islam in the country, I have hope that God is working here and that my friends will be part of the final marriage celebration. Please join the work here by praying that hearts will be open to the wooing of the Bridegroom.

Susan is an IS Partner from the USA, currently serving in the Arab World.

/작성자: