Author Archives: shanedar

Are you familiar with Samuel Zwemer? If you hang with people who hang with Muslims, you’ve probably heard the name. He’s a hero in a number of ways; there’s even a study center named after him. I don’t know him as well as I should. He did die in 1952, but, no excuses, there are books! 

Even a cursory look at Zwemer’s life offers lessons and modeling for people like us who want to see Muslims live in the love of Jesus for them. 

1. He pushed beyond what was considered doable in his day. “Muslims?! Surely you jest!” I’m scheming and dreaming these days with some friends about the day when there will be no more unengaged peoples, Muslim or otherwise. It can feel paralyzingly undoable. (Click here to see what uupg’s may live in your favorite country.)
2. He found a good wife! Since he poached Amy from another agency, he was required to reimburse them for the travel expenses they’d incurred to get her to the Middle East! Turned out to be a good investment: She founded both a school and a hospital that are each still in operation. 
3. He sacrificed in large and small ways. He and Amy buried two of their five children in Bahrain. He criss-crossed the globe in a day before they put wheels on suitcases. He famously only saw five Muslims turn to Jesus at his invitation.
4. He wrote like crazy. As Muslim Connect nears its five year anniversary, I’m awed by the number of books Zwemer wrote: Fifty books in fifty years!
5. He mobilized workers, pray-ers and senders. This is near my heart: He used his experience and influence to inspire and encourage many to consider lives of similar sacrifice and investment.

Want to flex some mobilization muscles? Consider inviting your church to connect to Healing Nations. We’ll help you build a relationship with a vetted missions partner to initiate a multi-year collaboration to bring good news where it’s desperately needed. 

How’s your Friday? I sure hope it’s good. I’m thinking about the Good Friday today as I prep to speak on Jesus’s death and burial this Sunday to my church. (No, you’ve not time traveled to Palm Sunday. Our long trek through Luke is nearing its end!) 

Today’s Friday has plenty of bad on grand and small scales: Destruction and despair continue in the Middle East and Ukraine. Somewhere scary diagnoses are being delivered and relationships are reaching their end. 

It’s also a good day: The White House recently added to last spring’s Strategy to Combat Anti-Semitism a National Strategy to Counter Islamophobia. I don’t know what you think about how minorities are currently treated in the US or about a broader “victim mentality.” But if the government’s going to spend money, and you know they are, I’m down with some of it going to figure out how not to hate and harm people because of what they believe and look like.

This is a small step in a good direction. Let’s pray it’s part of a growing movement from all over to bring God’s blessing to Muslims. Because that is part of God’s purpose, isn’t it? 

I love that Luke, as he tells the Good Friday story, is careful to show that the events happen according to God’s plan. It brings to mind the way my mentor, Steve Hawthorne, in the Perspectives curriculum, sums up the over-arching purposes of God: “against evil—kingdom victory; for the nations—redemption and blessing; and for God—global glory in worship.”

I want that so badly. Whether your Friday today is good or bad or somewhere in between, please join me in saying, “Yes, Father. These are good purposes. Bring them about now and for all.”

PS: If you’re drawn to people groups who’ve yet to experience the in-breaking of God’s purposes check out this explorer tool. 

Have you been on Twitter lately? (Sorry, X.) I enjoy the way it causes me to think about things in a new way, but am distressed by the vehemence and nastiness with which Christians sometimes fight each other. And then sometimes you stumble onto a gem like this: 

Greg Stier, who I don’t know in real life, but assume is an alright guy, posted what he calls “The Triple A” approach to connecting with Mormons. As you probably know, there are some parallels between the two M faiths. You also know I’m a sucker for simple, practical, accessible ways to describe how to connect with Muslims. If they aliterate, I’m over the moon! 

You can read Greg’s fuller article here, but I want to quickly share the Triple A approach as it applies to Muslims. I hope it helps you and maybe gives you talking points to encourage others to push through the cultural barriers to befriend Muslims. 

1. Ask questions about Islam and Muslim life. Greg lists several in his article, but you can also run with your curiosity. In many Muslim cultures, it’s fine to openly discuss religion. In fact, I think Muslims have an easier time talking about Jesus than we do! 
2. Admire what you can about them and what they believe. This gets a little dicey for some of us. We’ve been taught or had modeled that others are totally wrong! If you affirm something in their worldview, you’re probably cheating on Jesus! But you’ve met Muslims, right? They all resemble Jesus in some way and some of them are just so cool. 
3. Admit you need Jesus more than anybody. This stings a bit, but Paul said imitate me and he also said, “Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am the worst.” There is something powerfully disarming about confessing need. 

May God open doors for each of us to give the Triple A approach a go this week with Muslims or Mormons or any Muggle you meet. 

With the carnival of carnage continuing unabated in the Middle East, so much is unknown. What is pretty certain is this: More refugees. When homes, hospitals, groceries and gas stations are reduced to rubble, Gazans will be looking for new places to live. 

Maybe you side with presidential hopeful Ron DeSantis who says they should be taken in by Middle Eastern countries, not the U.S. Maybe you think we should throw open the doors as we did recently for Ukrainians. 

Either way, I’m wondering how you feel about the idea of sanctuary. Not what you call the room where you hold worship services, but allowing migrants to stay in your church building even though they lack legal right to remain in the U.S.

If someone was being deported and you understood their life was legitimately in danger in their homeland, would you try to help them by letting them stay in your church? Whether “yes” or “no,” I’m curious how you come to the decision. 

If you think, “I’m not sure a church building is really much protection,” you’re right. While no law prevents ICE from serving warrants at churches, some reports indicate they’re reluctant to. If you think, “My church is tiny. No one wants to stay there,” you might be right. Although my guess is that the tiniest of churches beats the specter of torture and death back home. 

Maybe your mind goes quickly to Paul’s admonition in Romans 13.1, to “be subject to the governing authorities.” But we’ve always realized there’re moral limits to that verse, haven’t we?

I admire churches in the U.S. who are taking risks to care for migrants this way, but I realize it’s easy to be for something that’s likely not going to happen where I live, to “pre-decide” a decision I likely won’t be called upon to make. That admitted, the world does seem to be on a Tilt-a-Whirl right now. Who knows what decisions we might actually face? 

How are you processing what’s going down in Israel and Gaza? I’m gutted. This morning I made the mistake of reading past the headlines a bit so I could write a couple coherent words about it. Bad idea. Now I’m hoping to finish this email and get it out before I’m totally depressed.

And you know what? I can hear the voice in my head saying how ridiculous I am for sharing my pain when pain beyond my comprehension multiplies by the hour nine hours east of me. 

If I didn’t think you might let your kids read this, I’d probably swear. 

How do people like us, presumably Jesus-first people, oddballs who advocate for loving Muslims and telling them good news, people who aren’t totally stupid, think about and deal with a situation like this?

1. We keep our mouths shut. We don’t engage in fruitless fights. We don’t share spurious or incendiary information online. 
2. We speak up. With love and humility, in our circles we don’t let all Palestinians be painted as “human animals.” With wisdom and balance, we speak of hope for Christ’s kingdom. With humility, we consider the possible complicity of our country. 
3. We talk to God. We pray for the families of Israelis who lost their lives, for those held hostage, for those injured or now paralyzed by fear. Believing our theology, we pray for members of Hamas, though their deeds are evil and reprehensible. We pray for the 2.1 million people of Gaza who are rapidly running out of water and food, electricity and fuel. 

I’d love to hear how you’re praying and what you’re thinking today. You may enjoy praying along with this video prayer for Gaza and the West Bank by an Arab brother and our friends at PrayerCast.

Gratitude is good for the soul! If your soul could use a little goodness today, here’s something to be thankful for: The U.S. is moving in the right direction regarding refugees. 

Although there’s a laundry list of things wrong with our country and the favorite topic of conversation at church might be recounting those wrongs, we are doing something right. Or at least righter than in recent years. 

Following the one-two punch of Covid and a refugee-adverse oval office combining to drop refugee admittance to its lowest levels in the history of the program, the numbers are now moving up. 

This means a widow and her two kids, displaced from their country, having weathered an intense investigation by international experts and found to have legitimate cause to fear for their lives, now has a better chance at finding new life in America. 

The current upper limit for acceptance has been set by the president at 125,000. My best understanding is that we had taken in around 50,000 this year by the end of August. We won’t make 125k for sure, but this is more than the last three years combined and growing. 

Although I’ve cast shade on Texans recently for the way they drive in Colorado, big time kudos is due for their leading the way in resettling refugees. You outpaced California, even though they have (for the time being) a higher population! Atta boy to Kentucky as well, although only 1/6th the population of Texas, you’ve taken in half as many refugees as them in this current U.S. fiscal year.

Let’s keep in mind: 
• Refugees are not the same as immigrants. 
•This good news is not a comment on the situation at our southern border. 
•Some refugees are so in part as a result of US action and policy (Afghans, Iraqis), others not so much (Congolese, Rohingya).

Jesus was pretty clear that his followers care for widows, orphans and the oppressed. I’m happy that we’re doing more of that this year than last. 

I was at a conference once that included a lengthy prayer time sitting on the floor. When it finished and we all stood up, one of my friends remained seated. We thought, “Wow, he’s really spiritual!” Then a song started, his head snapped up and we realized he’d been snoozing! 

Surely you’ve never fallen asleep in a corporate prayer time, then awoken to realize now you don’t know what has been prayed for and what hasn’t! Nor have you slept in when you could have been praying. I’ve done both. 

I love that in the Muslim pre-dawn call to prayer between “Hurry to the prayer. Hurry to salvation” and the last “God is great,” the muezzin sneaks in “Prayer is better than sleep.” 

During the Luke 22 prayer time in the Garden of Gethsemane, some of the participants slept while one of them prayed. Luke writes that Jesus got up from his knees ready to face his short and traumatic future while the disciples slept in grief.

Without doubt, sometimes sleep is the best thing we can do. But in the Garden, and often in life, it’s better to pray than sleep. 

Bon Courage, my friends: Your prayers for Muslims are heard. If you’re praying, you’re doing it right! Whether you wake up early, stay up late or pray in the car taking kids to practice, the God of Heaven and Earth, the one who stayed up himself and prayed in the Garden, hears your prayers. And they are answered beyond what you can ask or imagine. 

Can I give you a specific people group to pray for this week? The Bozo people, a barely engaged group in West Africa will get a little more attention than usual this week because I’ll be briefly speaking about them at the Healing Nations annual banquet. I could sure use your prayers, but even more, the Bozo. 

If you didn’t catch last week’s email, “To Bidet or Not Bidet,” you may want to give it a look! It’s a rare bit of bathroom humor in Muslim Connect! 

Sometimes I like to ponder what Muslims have given non-Muslims: 

Coffee, numbers, hospitality, long, flowy shirts that camouflage middle-aged tummies! 

And the bidet. 

To be clear, the idea of post-poo cleansing with water is too generic to really think some one person came up with the idea first. I suppose the French might like to think it was them, and to be sure the Japanese have taken the bidet to a whole other level!

But for me, it was the Muslims of Jordan who provided an introduction to this new form of hygiene. In the Indiana of my youth there were still more functioning out-houses than bidets! When I spent my first post-college summer in Jordan I was faced with a plethora of new sights, sounds, smells and ideas. The transplantation of the little dish sprayer from the kitchen sink to the floor next to the squatty potty was not the least of them. 

Why is this a deal for Muslims? Well, one (sometimes disputed) Quranic verse and several Hadiths indicate that God is happy when his people keep it clean down there. And practically, it’s hard to argue this question: If a bird randomly went poo on your hand, would you feel better washing with water or just wiping it off with paper?

When I wonder why non-Muslim Americans don’t use bidets, my best guess is that we’ve bought the marketing. Companies can sell toilet paper over and over, but a bidet only once. That, and if you weren’t raised rinsing, it’s a small physical step, but a pretty big mental one! 

Since I’ve pledged to not ask you to do anything I’m not willing to do, this email is intended to be descriptive, not prescriptive! But I will say this, I’ve never know anyone who went the way of the bidet to regret the shift or hustle back to TP.

Twin tragedies have rocked the Muslim world in the past week. You’ve probably seen the news:

An earthquake in Morocco on September 8th killed up to 3000 people in Marrakesh and the Atlas Mountains. Recovery efforts are still underway as many people suffer without food and shelter. 

On Monday, September 11th, an intense rain storm in Libya caused two dams to fail, resulting in a wall of water that destroyed a third of the coastal town of Derna. The mayor estimates up to 20,000 dead. 

As you’d imagine, the suffering in the aftermath of these events is intense. The remoteness of the Moroccan villages and the political instability in Libya hamper rescue and recovery efforts. 

To help build a concerted prayer effort, I’d like to invite you to join me in putting the following blurb in your church bulletin or newsletter this weekend or next: 

In response to the devastating earthquake in Morocco (~3000 dead) and flooding in Libya (up to 20,000 dead), please pray for rescue and relief workers. Pray for food, water and shelter to get to those in need. Ask God to breathe hope where despair presently reigns. Ask God to guide the US and each of us to respond as he desires.

If God nudges you to give in response to either the Moroccan earthquake or the Libyan flood, Team Expansion is a trusted partner with connections at work on the ground who are trained in trauma-informed care. Click the link above for a Morocco page. If you’d like your gift to go to Libyan response, use that page, but put “Libya Flood Relief” in the notes section.

I just finished the most amazing book and can’t wait to tell you about it. Dave Eggers wrote The Monk Of Mokha to tell the story of Mohktar Alkhanshali and his unlikely and perilous quest to restart the Yemeni coffee industry. 

Mohktar, a Yemeni-American, grew up in San Fransisco where he muddled his way through school and several dead-end jobs. Then an epiphany, which he attributes to God, focused his life on coffee, particularly to “resurrecting the ancient art of Yemeni coffee.” 

His rollicking journey from no money and no experience to selling coffee for $200 a pound is Hollywood worthy and deeply inspiring. 

I love this book for a many reasons, including:

• Muslims are treated like normal people. Mohktar is a hero, but starts off a bratty kid. The Yemeni farmers seem backward in some ways, but are really just trying to make it. The political powers that be, playing out their dramas on Yemeni soil, are like powers often are: evil. 

• I appreciated the insights into life in a country suffering as Yemen has. The effects of the war are felt by all, but in different ways: In loss of life, loss of freedom or an increased insecurity of livelihood. In the midst of what we’d might be inclined to label tribulation, Yemenis continue to live as best they can.

• I am deeply challenged to consider how badly I want to see the Gospel go everywhere. Mokhtar was jailed, relentlessly sick and financially leveraged to nearly everyone he knew, but he remained determined to make Yemeni coffee happen. What discomfort am I willing to endure to see the great commission completed and to hear, “Well done, son,” from my Father?

Oh, yeah, and there’s the coffee! Along with Yemen, coffee serves as one of the key characters in the book! Brew a nice cup and if you have any money left, buy The Monk of Mokha.