The guy who checked my bags in OKC was really impressed that he was sending them to Casa Blanca. “Hmm, Casa Blanca- Humphrey Bogart and all that.” I am more than a little bit mystified by the thought of traveling to this part of the world myself- I just hope I go the same place as my bags. Actually, this is a part of the world I know almost nothing about. It is kind of a black and white blur to me- but I have a feeling I am about to get educated in a big way.
I arrive (with my bags) about 16 hours after almost literally running from our late worship Sunday to the airport. I never sleep on planes, so my mind is swimming in a sea of distorted thoughts. My brain feels like mush. The Casa Blanca airport has a kind of third world feel- but it is clean and the air smell like the tropics. And it’s in full color. It is the western most country in Africa- but the people are more Arab than African- a combination of French, African, Arabic and Berber has influenced their language, culture, and their unique features.
The people here are really beautiful.
My quest of course is to hook up with the church here- to travel across Morocco and other points in North Africa Middle East to spend time with Christians and see what God is up to in places where the population is practically 99% Muslim. I am always inspired by these kinds of trips- Christians who are persecuted for their faith tend to be the most radical - the ones who are calling His name in places like this tend to be the hard core types-I always leave with a kind of conflicted emotion. On the one hand, I feel incredibly inspired. On the other, I feel incredibly ashamed.
My friends here are not anxious for me to rest. They have people they want me to meet and places they want me to see.
The first national Christian my friends want me to meet is Hassan.
He is one of the most unique believers I have ever met. He is in his mid- thirties- very passionate, an obvious leader with keen intelligence and terrific social skills. He fills the room with his energy. Even though we talk through a translator, his body language and presence makes a huge impression. Hassan exudes confidence.
I ask him how he came to Christ? I am always curious to meet someone with a Muslim background who now calls the name of Jesus. “How did happen?” I ask.
Hasan smiles big and says, “The short version is that once I was lost, but now I see”.
I asked for the longer version.
He took a deep breath, leaned forward in his chair, clasped his hands together and said, “OK”.
It was indeed a long and very compelling story. He tells us that he was born in a home of a very serious Islamic scholar who was determined that his children be very devout. He was taught Islam from the time he was three- raised in a Madrassa setting where the Koran was memorized. He could quote long passages at a very young age.
Hassan became a kind of fundamentalist Muslim- one that didn’t just abide by Islamic law- but who actually read and memorized and understood the teaching of Islam.
When he was in college he heard a radio program in which the teacher talked about the Bible- claiming that what the Koran taught about the Injel (Arabic word for Bible) was completely wrong- that Jesus died on the cross for our sins and that He was the only way to salvation.
Hassan was so incensed by this he couldn’t let it go. He told us that Islamic teaching is that if you find a wrong- you must either resist it with your hands or resist it with your mouth- he decided to use his hand to write a very angry and condemning letter to the man who spoke in the radio program.
About a month later, the man wrote him back- but the letter he received was not angry- by contrast it was very loving and kind. The man even said that he loved him- and that he was praying for him.
Hassan was impacted not so much by the argument the man gave- but by the way he gave it. “I wonder if this is what Jesus does for people?” Hassan began to ask.
After much correspondence, Hassan was at a crossroads- he could see from his own studies that what this man was teaching was correct. The arguments he made regarding the Koran were flawless. Over time he decided to walk away from Islam. He wasn’t a Christian at this point- he had just concluded that Islam was not what he once thought.
His family became greatly concerned- and eventually convinced him to enter law school- where he would be indoctrinated into Islamic law. This is a very prestigious school that only the brightest students attain. Hassan became very aggressive in his studies – and was determined to do a kind of comparative analysis with Christianity. He asked his professors if he could buy some Christian books for this- remarkably, they agreed.
After graduating from the Islamic Law Center, Hassan went to Beirut and earned a Masters in Biblical studies. He was now in the position of being able to compare Christianity to Islam in a uniquely objective and informed way- the result was that he committed his entire life and being to Christianity.
God is now using Hassan to raise up the church in North Africa.
He is a very influential pastor in Morocco. The weekend before we got here, Hassan baptized 13 men he had recently won to Christ. The original number was 11, but the two Muslim drivers he took with him for the “swim” also came to Christ.
As you can imagine, Hassan is a marked man. There have been at least 4 attempts on his life, and one on his wife. He is responsible for the formation of many churches and of hundreds coming to Christ. And yet, he is fearless and unafraid. He smiles big and tells us through a translator, “to live is Christ, to die is gain. Humdelalah!”
Once I was blind. Now I see.
From now on, when I think of Casa Blanca, I will not think of Bogart.
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
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