MD| ET Student
I can only describe it as a curious sadness as our group toured the mosque near Brick Lane in London. I knew it was the largest and fastest growing mosque in England and I knew there had been cases of radical Islam under its dome, but the uneasiness I felt wasn’t out of a fear for safety. It was a spiritual sadness that I felt. I was filled with an overwhelming desire for our guide and other members to know Jesus as our Savior. Our tour was fascinating and I learned so much about Islam and its culture that I would have otherwise been completely ignorant of, but that sense of melancholy still lingered.
Our guide was warm, inviting and showed much willingness to help us learn. He made me feel comfortable and seemed genuinely happy to teach us about his faith and culture. His lesson on language was intriguing and I was surprised by how much knowledge he had about Christianity and other theological points of view. However, as much as I personally enjoyed our tour and liked our guide, I couldn’t shake the sadness that I felt for him and others.
As we stood under the dome, I glanced towards a few men on their hands and knees facing Mecca. I found myself beginning to pray for them and for our guide. I admired their piety and discipline, qualities that I could learn from, but I couldn’t help but pray that Jesus would touch their hearts and those traits would be practiced for His glory. In that moment, I felt so connected to them. They were my brothers, born of the same Creator; I wanted them to know our Father the way I know Him. Of course, I will never know their journeys of faith, I don’t even know their names, but I have to believe that prayer is enough and nothing is impossible with God.