Islam

This website is dedicated to informing the public about the religion of Islam from a Christian perspective. It primarily contains the writings and videos of renowned Biblical and Islamic scholar, Dr. Labib Mikhail. Dr. Labib is a former professor of homiletics from the Faith Mission Bible College in Cairo, Egypt. He is a television speaker, journalist and has authored more than 60 books. For 42 years, Dr. Labib was the editor of the Good News Magazine and has pastored the Evangelical Bible Church in Fairfax, Virginia. He has a humble heart and a wealth of knowledge about the differences between Christianity and Islam.

We do not hate the Muslims. We hate deception. We do not advocate violence. We advocate love and truth. We desire peace but will not trade it for compromise. We will reach out to Muslims but will not deny the sovereignty of Christ and the cross as the only way to salvation. And we will not turn our back on our family members who are suffering and being killed under Islam for their faith and witness in Jesus Christ. Islam is the dominant force trying to eradicate Jesus Christ in their nations and neutralize Him worldwide as another "prophet." We will not prostitute the gospel for a politically correct peace. Should any of us do otherwise?

Dr. Tom White, Director
The Voice of the Myrters

War tensions tough on Christians in Iraq
Exodus tilting secular state toward Islam
Hadani Ditmars, Chronicle Foreign Service

Baghdad, Iraq -- At St. Teresa's Church, a woman kneels to pray. Making the sign of the cross, she offers up silent benedictions as the priest leads a prayer for the peace and prosperity of his congregation, their country and their president, Saddam Hussein.

Although its interior -- with candles, icons and crucifixes -- would be familiar anywhere in the Catholic world, St. Teresa's is in central Baghdad, where the power of God should never try to rival that of the president.

Iraq is a land steeped in biblical history. It was the birthplace of Abraham, claimed to be the site of the Garden of Eden, and a place where apostles such as St. Thomas sojourned en route between Jerusalem and India.

Iraq's 800,000-strong Chaldean Christian community enjoys a relatively important place in a mainly Muslim society, exemplified by prominent figures such as Deputy Prime Minister Tariq Aziz. There are also another 200,000 Christians -- Roman Catholics and members of eastern churches. All are afforded government protection as religious minorities.

But since the international embargo against Iraq began more than a decade ago, Iraqi Christians -- who can trace their roots back to Babylonian times -- have been slowly disappearing.

The largest Chaldean community outside of Iraq is now in Detroit, and many Christians are using family connections to emigrate in search of a brighter economic future than the one offered in embargoed Iraq.

Some observers express concern that the exodus is helping create an increasingly Islamicized culture in what has long been a secular society.

As rural migrants from Iraq's predominantly Muslim south flood such major cities as Baghdad and Basra, urban cosmopolitanism is gradually giving way to a more fundamentalist outlook.

In Baghdad, more and more women don't leave home without donning chadors -- a combination head covering, veil and shawl -- and streets in many neighborhoods are empty of women after sunset.

Since Sept. 11, the role of Christians in Iraqi society has been put into even sharper relief. With President Bush's "with us or against us" rhetoric and threats of U.S. military attack emphasizing the boundaries -- usually benign -- between Iraqi Christians and Muslims, it is not an easy time to be a Christian in this country.

The state-appointed Chaldean patriarch, Raphael Bidawid, said that although Iraqi Christians strongly identified themselves as "Iraqis first and then as Christians . . . we are sometimes accused of being agents of the West."

"But when the bombs fall," he noted dryly, "they are not especially for Christians or for Muslims. They're for everyone."

Bidawid's flock feels abandoned by the "Christian" nations that they believe are persecuting Iraq, he said.

"No country in the Western world can call themselves Christian," he said. "They do not act according to the Christian principles of peace and justice."

Without addressing issues of moral relativity, he added: "Those who point the finger at Iraq should not forget Hiroshima and Vietnam. They should not forget that they are starving a whole generation of children here."

From Detroit, Bishop Ibrahim Ibrahim, the top Chaldean Catholic religious figure in the United States, said: "It's very hard to see a bright future for Christianity in the Middle East.

"On the one hand, there is the rise in Islamic fundamentalism; on the other there is the U.S. position on Israel, which causes many Christians to be blamed as co-conspirators with the West. Both issues have a real impact on Christian populations in the whole area. We are really caught in the middle."

Ibrahim says there are now 250,000 Iraqi Christians in the United States, about 150,000 of them Chaldeans.

"We must follow the faithful, and that's why I'm here in Detroit," he said.

Despite their growing isolation, the Iraqi Christians do not stand alone.

Though the visit of a delegation of U.S. Episcopal bishops around Sept. 11 was postponed indefinitely, Archbishop Djibrael Kassab of Basra spent Christmas Day with some Christian anti-sanctions advocates who came from the United States to express their solidarity with Iraqis.

"The fact that they spent Christmas with us means they have not forgotten us," he said. "There are some who care about what's going on here.

"We love our enemies. During Mass on Christmas Day I delivered a special message to Mr. Bush, saying that we are both men of faith and that we are praying for our leader and for him. We are praying that he will come to know that sanctions come from a place that is evil."

There are only about 1,000 Christian families left in Basra, down from three times that before the Iran-Iraq war began in 1980, but Kassab says they get along well as a minority.

"We are living here like brothers with Muslims," he said, adding that at least 70 percent of the people who benefit from his parish's free pharmacy, day care center and home for the elderly are Muslim.

The Christian community in Basra is actually quite well off, a nugget revealed by the archbishop's guileless comment that "Iraq is an egalitarian society. My houseboy and I both receive the same amount of rations."

Besides benefiting from "cousin aid" from the outside, the community also prospers in the liquor business, something reserved only for Christians in Iraq. It is not uncommon to hear stories about Christians who literally help keep their Muslim neighbors alive by providing financial assistance.

At St. Teresa's in Baghdad, a group of women stopped to chat after Mass. In the presence of a government "minder," they answered a question about Christian emigration with an emphatic denunciation of "those who abandon their country."

"I would never leave," said 25-year-old Rana, an attractive young woman dressed fashionably in a faux-Chanel suit. "I love my country. And besides, those people in the West are not friendly; they don't like us." (Pope John Paul II, whose supportive anti-sanctions stance is much appreciated by Iraqi Christians, is excepted.)

But later on Rana confided, "Even if I wanted to leave, where would I get the money? How would I get the visa?"

And eventually she asked in a more curious tone, "How would I get the visa?"

When the group was asked whether they had any concerns about the growing Islamicization of society and the increase in women wearing the hijab, or veil,

53-year-old Amira said, "Well, it says in the Bible that women should dress modestly. It's the same thing."

As for the United States, Amira said, "Those people who embargo our country are not true Christians. They do not love peace and justice."

"I want to tell the Americans that Christ came for peace, not for war," she said.

Canadian journalist Hadani Ditmars recently returned from a monthlong reporting trip to Iraq.

The women gather at the Old Country Buffet in a Boston shopping mall. They laugh and chat as they dig into roast beef and ice cream sundaes.

They could be any group of young moms and college students enjoying a night out. But they're not. These women are recent converts to Islam, celebrating the end of Ramadan.

They symbolize a curious new phenomenon in the wake of September 11: A surge of Islamic conversions.

"I said the testimony, and poof, I was a Muslim," says Tiffany Motschenbacher, a University of Massachusetts theater major. And she adds, "I used to feel something was wrong with me because I couldn't grasp the concept of God. Now I finally had peace of heart."

When it comes to Islamic conversions, you can't help but count the ironies. Throughout history, Islam has spread through violent conquest. Today -- after Islamic radicals killed thousands of our neighbors -- Americans are voluntarily converting.

Another irony: Around the country, so-called "seeker friendly" churches try to attract people through pop music and sanctuaries that resemble shopping malls. Meanwhile, Islam -- which just suffered a huge public relations debacle -- attracts converts through what can only be described as seeker unfriendly elements: rigid rules of conduct, dress, and life.

Islam is now the fastest growing religion in the United States. More than thirty percent of mosque attendees are converts. What is going on?

Well, first, the attacks have sparked an interest in learning more about Islam, a religion that appears exotic to western eyes. Second, during times of crisis, religions with clear definitions of right and wrong look increasingly attractive. Karen Courtenay, one of the new converts who gathered at the Old Country Buffet, told National Post that many converts are attracted to "Islam's rich mysticism and clear theology and rules," its family values, sense of community, moral certainty. Some -- especially Hispanic and African Americans -- view the embrace of Islam as a return to their roots.

Whatever the reasons for Islam's gains, it's clear that Christians have our work cut out for us. We must educate ourselves so we can explain the difference between Islam and Christianity. New converts to Islam often display a faulty understanding of both faiths. For example, Lisa, one of the diners at the Old Country Buffet, said, "I liked the fact that to become a Muslim, you don't have to disrespect Jesus. He is still a prophet, just not the Son of God." She doesn't seem to realize that placing Muhammad above Christ is the ultimate disrespect.

And we ought to rethink our seeker-friendly approach and instead boldly teach our doctrines -- what C.S. Lewis called "Mere Christianity" -- and do it in open and intentional community.

To learn more about Islam, read my new booklet, "When Night Fell on a Different World." And then, invite your neighbors over for a potluck. Tell them you'd like to talk about the differences between Christianity and Islam.

In these tumultuous times, it's clear people are searching for God. We can offer them the simple, magnificent truth to which no Muslim may lay claim: That God so loved the world He gave His only begotten Son that we might live.