One does not read very far in the Qur'an before it becomes obvious
that Muhammad was in some ways a spurned lover. Not that any women
turned him away, rather that he longed to be part of the people of
God-- but they would not have him.
Mohammad came close enough to Jews and Christians to be attracted to
their God. He wanted them to accept him into their story, into their
knowing the one true God, but he wanted it on his terms.
In the early Medina years he was not so much about building a
community as he was about trying to join one. But again, he only
wanted to join if he there was room for him along side the
great historical personages of their faith. Of course, we all know
that in the end neither the Jews nor Christians allowed him that
place, so he made his own.
This desire to share a spiritual inheritance is a major, yet
unresolved, motif in Mohammad's narrative. It is unresolved because
exactly how Islam relates to its predecessors still hangs like a
whiff of smoke in the air, noticeable, but just barely. It also
carries missiological significance.
Our presentation of the Gospel to Muslims must touch this deep
nerve. One that offers them a place among the people of the true and
living God - but not on their terms, not on our
terms - on God's terms.
It seems to me that history is rhyming. Once again globalization is
bringing many Muslims close enough to us to see our God. Many them
are already wanting to share that narrative, and many more will in the coming years. The looming question to us is, "Will we
act like "gatekeepers" who control the door, or like fellow beggars
who have found crumbs and want to share?"
