Islam and Christianity are not sister religions, as some would have us
believe. The very existence of Islam is a challenge to Christianity;
and since Muhammad sent out his missionary armies, the two Faiths have
been constant rivals and enemies. All apologists of any weight on both
sides acknowledge the mutual exclusion of Christ and Muhammad. Nothing
is gained on either side by denial of this position.
History has corroborated this view only too literally. In Muslim
lands those bearing the Christian name have suffered and do
suffer in proof of it. “_To remain a Christian_,” writes Mrs.
King Lewis, in her book—‘Critical Times in Turkey, and England’s
Responsibility,’—“_means to court death in some terrible manner_.”
The best that can be said of other lands is that there is an armed
neutrality.
The two antagonists must one day meet; and the war, on the one side
at least, will be a religious war. It will be a terrible war, waged
at fearful cost. It could hardly be otherwise, for the wrongs to be
avenged on either side are deep and of long standing.
It is a saying with Mussulmans that Christianity fears to meet Islam.
Missionaries in Arabia have been taunted with the fact that parties of
two or three men are sent by the Church of Christ to convert Arabia,
and the inference is drawn that the older Faith dares not seriously to
confront the younger. Some colour is given to the reproach by the fact
that Christian Europe dares not to confront the moribund Turkish Empire
in defence of those who bear the Christian name.
The question of Christianity is, whether the inevitable war shall be
primarily or entirely a war of the nations, bloody and disastrous; or
whether it is not possible even yet for the Church to unite her forces,
and to meet the common enemy with a frank avowal of the first wrong,
and an offer, belated indeed, but now earnest and sincere, of the
knowledge of Christ.
The approach of Christian to Mussulman must always be a difficult and
delicate task. He is prepossessed against Christ, he cannot believe
that Christianity is other than a polytheistic Faith, “The very bells
of the churches ring, Jesus, Mary; Jesus, Mary,” said a Muslim woman.
Disdain of the Prophet rouses his bitterest antagonism. Discussions and
arguments end as they began.
But there is a soul of honour in him, and a fair approach meets, as
a rule, with a fair response. “You have read the Quran? Bring me a
Bible,” said a bigotted Muslim woman to the writer.
“Shall we talk the matter quietly over? Tell me of your Faith, and
of what it means to you; and will you give me also a hearing?” Such
an appeal rarely fails; and if Christ and His message be fairly
introduced, the result may safely be left with Him.