Can a Muslim be a Good American?
By Mark Siljander

The title above is the head of an email I have repeatedly received from concerned friends. That particular letter is not unique among the hundreds of perhaps well-intended books, articles, emails, and videos condemning Islam, often from Christian authors. They warn us that “radical Islam” is intent on dominating the world, destroying Israel and our Western way of life. While I will not debate their findings, we must first stop and realize that these tactics operate from a “bad news” spirit of fear.  Meanwhile, the Bible tells us not to fear 200 times. Can we truly share the message of “Good News” while basing our sense of reality in fear?

Like the author of the e-mail, I too am upset that the Muslim radicals are winning the war on terror. The extremists are bankrupting us, radically altering our lifestyles, culture and politics. I am embarrassed that Westerners, especially Christians, are so terribly ignorant of Islam and only parroting what others have told them about the radicals. I am sick and tired of my inbox filling up with countless of these types of emails and my mailbox with DVDs, and having encounters with Christians whose only goal, it seems, is to frighten us with a paralyzing fear of the Islamic threat.

I am not an apologist for Islam, but the comments in many of these resources are for the most part, ignorant, reflect only the militant’s view or are simply wrong. Even if every point was 100% correct and once we are all in a state of fright, what do we do about it then? I have yet to read or hear of one rational strategy to thwart the dreaded onslaught. When confronted for solutions, my friends retort that we need to “beef up our military” and “convert Muslims to the Christianity.” Frankly, these have already been proven a failure.

I, and others like me (see WhyDoYouFearMe.com), are working towards a “Good News” approach for new solutions. The vast majority of Muslims are struggling to break the growing political grip of radicals with the power of a peaceful expression of their faith. The West’s hyper focus on radicals and fear-based approach only alienates and isolates them rather than empowering them. Many Christians understandably replay over and over the same videos and quotes of the murderous nuts and megalomaniacs, but then generalize that all Muslims follow the same narrow and murderous view of Islam. Perhaps we should replace our insecurity, fear and anger (that insults what the average Muslims cherish, i.e. their religion, holy book, prophet and traditions) with an emphasis on what we both value as positives and the good news of Jesus.

At the beginning of my journey learning about Muslims, I was shocked to find that Jesus is actually a prominent and supernaturally endowed Messiah in both Muslim and Christian traditions. Ironically, he can serve as a bridge to connect us, rather than divide.

The actual and historical distance between Christians and Muslims exacerbates the problem of misunderstanding. Much is lost when attempting to communicate across cultures. You have much more shared history and understanding with a family member than with a stranger. How vast is the potential for misunderstanding between people who are often continents away from each other, each with their own history and worldview.

Jesus used love as his strategy for change and inspired the largest people movement in history. This approach might actually attract more people to Jesus the Messiah, rather than perpetuating revulsion.

I am often challenged when I read Jesus’ teaching regarding love of neighbors. The lawyer in Luke 10 wished to justify his actions when he asked Jesus who his neighbor was. Instead, Jesus’ story of the merciful Samaritan showed that everyone is my neighbor. The bottom line in loving is to show mercy.

What does this mean for followers of Jesus as we discern how to respond to those of Muslim faith? Certainly there is much to discuss. Please join us in walking towards a rejuvenated Biblical strategy that embraces the hope and love proclaimed in the Good News–one that casts out fear.

“There is no fear in love; but perfect love casts out fear, because fear is tormenting. He who fears is not made perfect in love.” (1 John 4:18)

“The gospel did not come to you in word only, but also in power and in the Holy Spirit and with full conviction.” (I Thessalonians 1:5)

I haven’t had guest bloggers in the past, but I thought this was worth
posting. Eboo wrote this for our www.whydoyoufearme.com website, but I
wanted to post it here as well.

Muslims Speak Out
by: Eboo Patel

I recently wrote a piece for USA Today where I expressed my strong opposition to Muslim extremists, my belief in American pluralism, and my desire to partner with Americans to defeat extremists and achieve pluralism. I got some interesting responses to this article.

One man commented: “The #1 argument we have against your people, referring to the non-violent amongst you, and that is as a whole, there is virtually nothing uttered which would condemn those in your ranks creating violence via killings and attempted ones. You all, again as a group, DON’T speak out against others of your ethnicity, possibly because of fear of retribution…but frankly, it does sicken us.”

It sickens me too.

As an American, as a father, violence like this sickens me – that’s why I wrote the op-ed.

But I know that I’m not the only Muslim who reacted this way. Outside that courthouse in Detroit when Umar Farouk Abdullmutallab was arraigned, were Muslims holding signs – signs like “Not in the Name of Islam,” “We are Americans,” and “Islam is Against Terrorism.” http://ow.ly/Z4qZ

And there are, in fact, a chorus of insightful, diverse Muslim voices speaking out against violence in the hijacked name of our religion. They don’t get as much attention in the media – so I’d like to point out a few.

Shahed Amanullah is an award-winning journalist, and editor-in-chief of altmuslim.com, an interactive news and discussion forum promoting a critical (and self-critical) analysis of issues regarding the Muslim community. There is much on AltMuslim that not only decries the violence addressed above, but also analyzes what we can do about it. Read this piece from Shahed on Confronting Radicalization Online. http://ow.ly/Z4uT

Reza Aslan, author of the widely read How to Win a Cosmic War is another Muslim who makes a point of speaking out on this issue. In a recent NPR interview, he pointed out the dissociation of radical Jihadists from Islam. http://ow.ly/Z4wL

“In fact, in many ways, you have to understand jihadism as an anti-clerical or anti-institutional movement. In fact, the jihadists define themselves in direct opposition to the traditional religious authorities –the imams of Islam. They find the traditional imams to be painfully out of touch. They believe the religious and political leaders of Islam have been adulterated or co-opted in some way.”

Finally, one of the best Muslim-authored pieces analyzing the Christmas Day violence, and offering further suggestions for the American Muslim community was Haroon Moghul for Religion Dispatches. http://ow.ly/Z4zh

“In both the case of the five young men who went from America to Pakistan and Umar Abdulmutallab, their own families warned the relevant authorities. Their actions argue that for all those who feel that acting violently redresses an injustice against the Muslim world, those near to them disagree enough to resist. Such a fracture within households suggests the intimacy and depth of the struggle, a battle that travels the Muslim world and unites it anew.”

It is my deepest hope that nothing like this ever happens again – but if it does, I know that my fellow Muslims will continue to speak out against those who commit violence in the name of Islam.

That person was me.  I was there to help rebuild some Yemeni villages which had been destroyed in the Christmas earthquake of 1982. I didn’t know anyone there, I didn’t speak Arabic, and I knew nothing about rebuilding stone houses – other then that, I was ready to go.

I lived for three months in a tent in central Yemen – what was then known as North Yemen. My first day “on the job” was quite a fright. When the one jeep we could find dropped us off, it seemed the whole village erupted in a fight. Men yelling, women hiding – and then a machine gun came out. I thought this was the end of my short-lived “missionary” career. The next thing I knew, about 5 men jumped into the back of the jeep which had just dropped me off and raced over the hill (there was no road). Then I heard gunfire. Ten minutes later, the jeep raced back and they invited me for lunch.

Naturally, I asked what was going on – they casually responded that the “evil tribe” over the hill had been caught stealing a sheep and they went to take revenge. I didn’t ask what kind of revenge. Then we sat down to eat (sheep, by the way).

In 1983, as now, Yemen was/is a country stuck in the 12th Century in many ways. There are reasons for this. Their main crop and “export” doesn’t actually  go anywhere – they grow it and then sell it to themselves. It’s called “Qat.” It’s a mild narcotic leaf that you chew. So….they have no economy, and they’re all slightly buzzed.

Yemenis are the best people in the world. They are the most hospitable and generally friendly people I’ve ever met. But they are poor with no hope of anything other than a lifetime of poverty. It’s similar to the slums you’d find in Gaza, or Cairo or parts of Baghdad – not just economically without, but politically poor. No hope, and no hope for hope.

Insert into this scenario some radical Islamic teaching, and kabang – you can easily recruit someone to commit an otherwise unthinkable act of terrorism! This issue is not new and it’s not “Islamic.” It’s the Drug Cartels of Columbia (Catholic). It’s the mass murders in Congo (Animist). It’s the Buddhist regime of Myanmar. It’s the past in Rwanda (Christian and Animist). It’s wherever you find hopelessness.

So what can we do? Bring hope! Be Hope Brokers! Ultimately, that hope is found in the good news of Jesus Christ. And we can begin by giving some initial hope to places like Yemen by supporting them in three ways. I call it the “Three E’s of National Success.”

•    Economic Development. Help with micro-enterprise strategies.
•    Educational Reform. Go teach. Help teach the teachers.
•    Entrepreneurial enterprise. Think. Help a nation like this with the unique gifts God has blessed you with. It’s not that Yemenis are dumb – not at all. They’re just stuck.

Being a Hope Broker is fun. It’s adventurous and doesn’t take us much work as you might think! Go for it…

Ask yourself these question to determine your Fear Factor (be honest):

1. When you see four Muslims walking toward you on a downtown street – maybe a man with a long beard and certain dress, or a woman with her head covered – what is your first emotion?
2. What do you think when you see another suicide bombing in a foreign country?
3. What did you think on Christmas when you heard about the Nigerian man’s attempt to blow up the flight on the way to Detroit?
4. When you hear that your friend bought a copy of the Qur’an and is reading it – and enjoying it – what is your reaction?

Prejudice is a deeply rooted emotion that is based on a certain reality, but that never leads us into freedom.

So…I might say the following truism: It seems that many who have committed acts of terrorism in the last 10 years have been Muslims. Or I might say this: Muslims have strange beliefs, and it seems to me, that some of these beliefs allow them to kill people in the name of God.

There might be a lot of truth to both of these statements – we could argue details for a long time about both sentences, but let’s just say that there is definitely some truth in them. And so much “truth” is the perception of the person uttering it – so if someone feels that “Muslim” equals “Terrorists”, then in one sense, that becomes “true” for that person.

My only question is – what do we do about this as followers of Jesus and his way? What do we do with our emotions? What do we do with the average Muslim who is clearly NOT a terrorist? And…most difficult of all, what do we do with an actual Muslim terrorist?

I have thoughts about each of those questions….stay tuned and chime in with your thoughts!

I retold the parable of the Good Samaritan and how provocative it would have been in his day. And I finished with Luke 4 – Jesus’ “mission statement.” And how interesting that everyone loved his speech until he pointed out that the Prophet Elijah went to a widow in Zarapheth (modern day Lebanon) and that Elisha healed the leper from Syria. Then they tried to kill him.

The point being that all of us would like to keep Jesus to ourselves. But he continually expanded the thinking of his Jewish hearers by giving them examples of God’s grace for the outsider!

It was so well received. Imagine speaking to 1000 Muslims (mostly from Arab descent) about Jesus, and being cheered on for more. I finished by saying, “If you’ve ever felt that Christians have unfairly taken Jesus and re-packaged him in a way that you can’t understand, then TAKE HIM BACK. He’d love to be yours!”

Thank you for praying!  It meant a lot.

We’ve just posted the 4-minute video of me speaking on Hezbollah TV. You can view that through my YouTube Channel, a link on my Facebook page or the website under “Resources.” Remember this: it was spur of the moment. I was totally taken off guard by the cameraman saying to me, “Tell all of Lebanon and the Middle East that America loves the Hezbollah and doesn’t approve of what Israel is doing.” What you see, is the second after he asked that question and handed me the microphone. He didn’t ask me to “preach” or “share the gospel” – he simply wanted a political statement from me.  And this is my answer….

Two other quick things:

1. Remember to pray for me as I address about 1000 Muslims in Chicago on the 26th.
2. And I will release the video of me speaking on Hezbollah TV on the 28th.  It wasn’t easy, but we got a decent quality live video of my whole talk (5 minutes) to the nation of Lebanon when we were there in November. It went out to the whole region on their satellite station as well. So when I get back, we’ll have a chance to post that.  Should be interesting!

Merry Christmas to you all. Lots of love from the Medearis family,

Carl, Chris and the three kiddos – Anna, Marie and Jonathan

It’s a good question without a simple answer.  Yes!  No!  Maybe?  It depends?  It’s hard to know for sure since that’s not what happened, but we could make some educated guesses. First, my overall philosophy on how to frame the answer: We look at the life and teachings of Jesus (big surprise, eh?)!  But seriously, many theologians, when asked about retaliation or defense in a physical manner, resort to the Old Testament for their answers.

Here’s why that’s a bad idea: While the Old Testament (the Torah, the history books, the books of poetry and the prophets) are inspired and useful, they are mostly stories of what happened.  Can we learn from them?  Of course.  Can we draw principles and lessons for our lives from them – often times, yes.  But we have to be careful when quoting from a historical situation from 1 Kings or Ezekiel, that we not impose what happened on our modern context.  This is a tricky bit of hermeneutics, but it’s vital to my argument – otherwise we can quote hundreds of verses and stories from the Old Testament to justify in type of violence.

So I stick with Jesus. Sounds obvious, but I’ve found that many of our theological underpinnings come from places other than the life of Christ.  In the end, he is our supreme example in all we say, think and do.  The rest of the scripture should bolster our points made from his life, but never contradict them.

Enough of the theology lesson – on to the point. (I’m delaying as I think up an answer.)

So, from the life of Jesus do we see:

Jesus ever fighting back?
Jesus ever resisting physically? (Even death)?
Jesus ever encouraging us to fight back?

(Some would say that the disciples had swords [Luke 22:49] and that Jesus didn’t tell them to not carry swords; in fact, he seemed to acknowledge that they did have them and possibly should have them.  However, the answer lies shortly afterwards in verse 51 when he says “No more of this,”  and in Matthew 26:52-53, when Jesus says “Put your sword back in its place, for all who draw the sword will die by the sword.  Do you think I cannot call on my Father, and he will at once put at my disposal more than 12 legions of Angels?”)

So, while there are some scriptures in the gospels that would require careful study and contextual critique, the overarching image and teaching from the life of Jesus is to “love your enemy” and to not resist violent acts with violence.

Is this practical? Does it work in “real life?”  Would the Samaritan have been “successful” if he had simply stood by while the robbers beat the man?

A question to the question: Is anything about following Jesus normal?  Successful?  Real?  Practical?  What happened to Jesus because he didn’t fight back – he was killed.  Martin Luther King, Jr.?  Killed.  Gandhi? Killed.  Most of the early followers?  Killed.  Was that practical?

The question I leave for you to consider is this: Have we been fighting to save our lives and live in “peace” and “security” while actually forgetting that we’re called to bear the instrument of death (the cross) and to model a life of dying over living?

P.S.  And here’s my answer:  If the Samaritan would have stumbled upon this man while he was being beaten, and in faith cried out to God to rescue the man, perhaps God would have.  And if not, then the story would have had another ending and a different point.  (Not a very satisfying “answer” is it)!?

Ten minutes later we were back on the road, driving in silence. As much is communicated by what isn’t said, as by what is. Late into the night we would discuss both. But here our purpose is simply to report what was said and what wasn’t, not to offer any opinions or conclusions from the words of the powerful ideologues we interviewed.

“So, tomorrow the Hezbollah?” I asked after a long silence.

“No,” Samir said. “It’s not yet confirmed. I think the next day.”

“Still not yet?”

“These are not easy things, Teddy. You want to go where no man is going and I can’t just pull a string. Do you have any idea how many in your own government would like this leader we are trying to meet dead?” He blew out some air. “But it will happen, I am confident.”

“Just a slight correction,” I pointed out. “This was Carl’s idea, not mine.”

Carl laughed. Carl always laughs. The scary part is that his laugh is genuine. He really does find levity in my attempt to place any blame for what might or could happen on him. But by now I was growing bold myself, if only a tiny bit, and I
smiled with him.

“Tomorrow, Baalbek,” Carl said. “Hezbollah headquarters.”

But first we must return to Nicole. I had spent more time with my source earlier and jotted down copious notes. An eye-opening story was beginning to emerge from the deep and I was eager to dive back in.

I attended college in Colorado Springs, married the love of my life, and began to get involved with a Vineyard church in Denver. My heart beat with the same passion that infects so many today. I wanted to change history. I wanted to be there at the moment when people were conceived in Christ. I didn’t fully understand what ministry was, but I dove in.

It was a lot different than I imagined. One day, my pastor, Steve, approached me with an offer. “Carl,” he said, “I want you to lead a small group.”

To which I promptly said, “lead? Heck, no.” Or words to that effect.

“I thought you wanted to be involved in our ministry,” he said, surprised. “I’ve spoken to some of the others, and I’ve prayed about it. I think you’d do very well.”

I took the task.

My wife Chris and I took charge of a small group. There were eight of us, and I jumped in with the most intensive teaching I could find. We studied, prayed, and persevered. For about a month.

Some churches and ministries advertise a success rate. You know, “the fastest growing church in Nebraska,” or “the most powerful ministry in Denver.” Something marketable, something worthwhile.

We were fast and consistent, all right. We went from eight people to two in a month. Put that on a brochure. It was just Chris and I staring at each other with puzzled expressions asking each other, “What just happened?” I’ll bet you can’t exterminate an ant colony that fast.

Steve, the ever optimistic pastor that he is, came up with a quick solution, rather like telling a fallen rodeo rider to cowboy up. “Carl, I’ve given it some thought, and I think you should do this again.”

“Steve,” I said, “I think you should double your medication.” I didn’t actually say that, but I did tell him he was crazy.

“Look,” he said, “There’s another group – the leaders want to you to help them out, and you won’t be alone.”

I said no. But I did it anyway. We regrouped, cut our losses, and got back on the pony. In about a month, we had lost eighty percent of our new group, meaning Chris and I had to swap uncomfortable glances with the other leader and his wife.

As I said before, ministry was different than I had imagined.

I remember thinking it was a good thing I wasn’t in charge of something bigger. Picture me trying to get twelve disciples. I’d have to start with a hundred and fifty to get odds like that. Jesus started by himself and changed the world. I could start with the world and end up all by myself.

Once again, Steve told me to cowboy up, and grouped Chris and I, with two leaders, into yet another larger group with its leaders. Are we beginning to see a pattern here?

Of course, history saw the need to repeat itself, and when the group went under, there were the six of us leaders trying to figure out what happened.

I happened. Welcome to the jungle..

Steve had a different tact. “Carl, I want you to take charge of the homeless ministry.”

“Great,” I said, “at least they’ve got no place to go to.”

“Come on,” Steve said, “You can do this and you’ve got a great heart for the lost.”

“Nope,” I said. I did it anyway.

In no time, the “ministry team” was down to Chris and I, and we were making sack lunches at night, enclosing an inspirational gospel card, and then getting up at oh-dark-thirty to deliver them to the lines of people at various relief offices in the metro area.

None of the homeless people ever darkened the doorstep of our church with our sack-lunch card in hand.

Score? Ministry: 4. Carl: 0.

We worked the homeless ministry for months, and finally gave it up. I thought about calling myself Carl the Ministry Killer. I’d approached it with all the sincerity and energy I’d been able to muster, and came out with a flat zero score, and more than a few negative feelings about it. I’m not the type to get depressed, but I had several dark moments, trying to grasp my vision for the lost in one hand while holding an unraveling rope in the other. I felt disowned by my own vision, but I prayed that a door would open somewhere, hoped that there was a place where I would be able to disciple people without driving them away.

Steve approached me once again. I tried to hide behind the furniture until he went away, but he found me, so I had to listen.

“Carl,” he said, “There’s a series of prisons down south, in Penrose and Canon City. I’m putting you in charge of a prison outreach.”

Brings new meaning to the phrase “captive audience” doesn’t it? I said, “I don’t want to be responsible for a prison break or a riot,” but, as we’ve all guessed, I ended up doing it anyway.

There were about thirty maximum-security inmates gathered in the forum, and I got up to speak, as scared as I’d ever been in my life. These were tough guys, and they were serving some of the hardest time that a federal court could give them. Some of them had committed crimes that were unspeakable. There would be no intimidating sermonizing from me, that was for sure.

So, I went to square one and simply told them about Jesus. I had a quaking voice and quivering knees. I remember my voice would falter and I was sure that everyone in the auditorium could hear it.

Paul once wrote, “When I came to you, I did not come with superiority of speech or wisdom, proclaiming to you the testimony of God. For I determined to know nothing while among you except Jesus Christ, and Him crucified. I was with you in weakness and fear, and with much trembling.”

As that phrase about fear and trembling crossed my mind, I found I could easily relate to Paul. I found the “decision” to be weak more arbitrary and less voluntary. I trembled because there were murderers breathing the same air as moi, and one of my chief concerns was keeping Mrs. Medearis’ husband alive and in good health.

Miraculously, somehow the inmates and I connected. Honest – no bribery involved.

After a month of visiting the prison, our numbers did something I’d never seen before. They grew. The inmates were interested in Jesus, and we didn’t even have to give away cigarettes.

For me, something deeper began. Although I wasn’t fully aware of it at the time, the passage that Paul wrote to the Corinthians burrowed down into my soul and cemented itself there. It would be some time before that verse became the center of my life.

My journey to the Middle East began after my recurrent failure at ministry in Colorado.

It started with a really spiritual idea. Chris and I prayed about it for a few months with a handful of friends, and then took it to the Vineyard leadership I was responsible to. Our pitch was, “We’re going to go to the Middle East and we’re going to start seven churches in seven nations in seven years.”

With such a vision, how could we go wrong? Even the triple sevens seemed somehow prophetic. The leadership came back enthusiastically with their thumbs up, and we packed our daughters and luggage and left the United States, ready to get it on.

Oh, how time flies.

After twelve years in Beirut, we haven’t started one church. Forget seven. Although we’ve seen a broad and well-connected family of friends around the Middle East begin to form, we haven’t converted one single person to Christianity. Not one.

But we’ve seen Jesus do some amazing things. This book is about the difference. Friends rather than ministry. My agenda versus his. Jesus compared to Christianity.

For every five people who would stop to talk to me about being a Christian as a life-changing, positive thing, there was one who would step up to the plate and tell me with vivid clarity that they thought Christianity was a crock and that Christians were a bunch of hypocrites.

Why the confusion? 
 
So here I am, holed up in this coffee shop, puttering with this new manuscript, and if I’m going to be honest, I have to tell you that there’s this kind of subtle funk that starts to creep into your soul and your vocabulary when you become comfortable with criticizing anything. Especially when you’re talking about what is wrong with Christianity. It is easy to start feeling as though what you are saying or hearing is right, and then you start developing this consensus with whomever you are talking with, or, if you’re by yourself, you start to agree with your own motives until you gradually become self-justified.

Think about it – somebody sits down next to you and complains about some church scandal, say a preacher who has had a major moral failing in front of the world. Before you know it, the dialogue has become about broader or deeper flaws within the church. “How could this or that person do such a thing?” we say. Why aren’t Christians nicer? More tolerant? More like Jesus?

But there it is. The elephant is on the couch, and somebody is talking about it.

I tend to be an empathetic sort of listener. Before they’re done talking, I’m trying to find ways to agree with them. I want to validate their opinion even if, at the end of the conversation, we end up disagreeing completely.

So, while I sit here and think about the growing diatribe of people who are either card-carrying “Christians” or fiercely anti-religious, it begins to occur to me that I have developed an empathy for both sides. Those who are “Christians” have many of the same ideological beliefs and values as myself — meaning that they believe in God, and that even though mankind was fallen in nature, God had provided a means of redemption. It’s easy to agree on ideas (doctrine) with this group.

On the other hand, I have a lot of empathy for the other group. Almost universally, the reason they are annoyed with Christians is because, at one time or another, a Christian had deeply offended them in some way. In fact, nobody that I talked to had a simply intellectual difference with Christianity that wasn’t in some way linked with a root offense. And for sure, this group isn’t angry at Jesus!

I too, have been hurt by Christians. So it’s easy for me to agree on experiences with this group.

This is where my search began to clarify.

See, I agreed with the Christian ideas. The beliefs made sense to me. In fact, I was more certain than ever that my beliefs about life and death and eternal consequences were the right ones. I have no basic doctrinal dispute with the Christians. And at the same time, I had no real disagreement with the complaints of those who found Christianity to be absurd or corrupt. So…then what?

Just this morning about 20 of us had an intelligent and impassioned discussion about this topic. A man was asking if Buddhism might be the way for those in the Eastern world. We then discussed whether they (the eastern Buddhists) needed Christianity. But then several agreed that “Christianity” might be a mess as well. So maybe Buddhists do just need Buddha.

It took a long time before someone came up with the idea that they (and we) might actually need Jesus and that “imposing Christianity” on a Buddhist culture might, in-fact, be wrong. But asking them (and us) to follow Jesus might be right.

So maybe we should feel free to be critical of our culture. Our religion. Our nation. Not with a critical spirit behind it, as if we know what’s ultimately right and wrong for all things, but with humility, accepting that others may know and feel things that are also good. But on the heels of that conversation, get to the end point — that Jesus is true. He is right. He is the way. He doesn’t just know the way — he is the way. He is those things for Buddhists. And in fact, that’s good news for Buddhists.

Being open-minded and willing to learn from other religions and cultures doesn’t make us theological universalists — it makes us human. And all the while gently calling others to join us in becoming fully alive in Christ.