Search for Truth 2

Search for Truth 2 more true stories from the Cape Scripture Quotations taken from the New International Version July 2003 © Copyright WEC International PO Box 47777 Greyville 4023 Published by WEC International & LCA PO Box 23273 Cape Town South Africa Search for Truth 2 Contents Introduction 1 Part 1 True Stories of the Cape He tried witchcraft 3 A gangster discovers that Jesus is alive 9 Tears were my daily bread 14 The conversion of an Imam 20 I went to Mecca twice 24 A glimpse into the heavenlies 29 Drugs and alcohol filled my life 33 Part 2 What Christians believe 1. Who has God shown himself to be? 37 2. What about Jesus? 38 3. God – Three or one? 39 4. Humans – good or bad? 39 5. Our destiny – damnation or life? 40 Part 3 Debt of the church in respect of Cape Islam 1. Colonialism and slavery 43 2. Kramats (Shrines) 44 3. Church leaders unwittingly assist the forces of the arch enemy 45 4. The sad role of the government legislation and the Dutch Reformed Church 46 5. Confession and Restitution? 48 Glossary 50 Introduction After positive feedback on the first volume of Search for Truth we were encouraged to produce a second book. This time we included the aspect of persecution and suffering of Muslim Background Believers. It is part of their experience. The Bible teaches that every true follower of Jesus must be ready for innocent suffering and persecution. That is part and parcel of healthy growth in faith. In fact, the Christian believer who never experiences difficulties and/or suffering because of his faith - at least from time to time - should really examine his relationship with the Lord (See 2 Timothy 3:12). Almost every Muslim who comes to the Lord experiences some form of ostracism and, all too often, much persecution from family and friends – even in a democracy like South Africa. The testimonies in Part 1 of this booklet will certainly illustrate that. Another aspect that gets more attention here is that of supernatural divine interventions. Often, the Holy Spirit does not only prepare Muslims through visions and dreams, uses these means to bring them to final conviction. Part 2 endeavours to give Christians an insight into the background of doctrinal differences between Islam and Christianity. Part 3 demonstrates how Christians in South Africa have a collective historical guilt in respect of Islam. The time to pay back is long overdue. How could we do it more convincingly than sharing the love of Jesus with them in all sorts of practical and compassionate ways? The academic substantiation for parts two and three can be found in published books on Church and Islamic history as well as books and theses of Cape (Islamic) history. Cape Town, January 2004 Part 1 True Stories of the Cape He tried Witchcraft ‘Whoever acknowledges me before men… I will acknowledge him before my Father in heaven ...’ (Matthew 10:32) Culturally mixed marriages seen from another perspective It has become very common for Christian girls to marry Muslim men in the Western Cape. It is sad that hardly any of them are properly prepared for the major change in their lives. Usually nominal Christians have no problems initially. Too often the emptiness of the Islamic religious ritual sets the person in question on a search after truth. The really big problem starts when such a person seriously wants to follow Jesus. It sometimes ends in divorce. When the children in the marriage are already teenagers and the husband fails to support the family, the issue becomes even greater. One lady who had to face all thi, almost lost her sanity in the process, but she experienced supernaturally that Jesus strengthens, if you put your complete trust in him. Once I took a scant look at my co-patients, I was completely perplexed. My whole being rebelled: “I don’t belong here!” My hair had turned white. I had become an old lady within a short time. I was raised in a ‘Christian’ home and fell in love with a young Muslim man. When we decided to get engaged, I thought that I might as well embrace Islam in the meantime. My mother used to buy her meat at the Muslim butchery, where she got to know my future in-laws. They where thus reassured that the meat in our home would be hallal. Accordingly, they approved of the relationship of their son with me. I had no clue what the Islamic religion entailed but, for that matter, I had no notion of the Christian faith either. After our wedding my parents had no objection to my moving in with my in-laws. This happens very often in our culture. In retrospect, that was possibly the biggest mistake of my life. Suddenly things changed. I was no longer allowed to see my family and my in-laws insisted that I should now only be called by the Muslim name that they gave me. I did not know that one could have a personal relationship with God through faith in Jesus as your Lord and Saviour. A challenge came my way when I heard that my elder sister had accepted Jesus as her Lord. But I would not have anything to do with those ‘born-again’ people. Our marriage was blessed with three precious children, but soon my husband started to abuse me. The increased freedom of having a home of our own brought little comfort. I often considered leaving my husband, but for the sake of our children I hung in there to keep the marriage alive. After fifteen years of wedlock I had had enough of it all. A friend, who had a living relationship with the Lord, allowed me to move in with her and her husband. But he would abuse her verbally and emotionally. My children would then cry and long for their own father. After a while I decided to return to my husband. Shortly afterwards, this Christian friend with whom I had lived, told me about a marriage seminar that was going to take place at the local Civic Centre. I longed attend there but it was just before ‘Labarang Gadjji’, a big Muslim feast where we celebrate Abrahams sacrifice of his son. I really longed to attend that seminar. But how would I be able to break away from the preparations at home? I told my husband that I was going to visit my sister. Instead, I went to the Civic Centre. With my scarf and Muslim clothing, I was very self-conscious among all the Christian people. Cautiously I took a seat at the back of the hall thinking, “If I get too hot under the collar, I can easily slip out again.” The female speaker invited the audience to write on a piece of paper everything in which they had failed God. I had no problem filling the page, writing down all the bad things including “I am not a good wife to my husband.” In the eyes of the world I was certainly a good wife, but when God’s word was ministered, I came under conviction that I fell so far below God’s standards. Then we were invited to receive the forgiveness which Jesus has achieved for us through his death on the cross of Calvary. As a visible sign of our repentance we had to tear up the paper with all the wrong things we had done. I had no problem doing this, but when we were invited to come forward and throw the snippets of paper in a bucket, I stayed put. I wanted to go forward, but my feet felt like lead. Instead, I cried and cried. A dear believer came to me after the meeting and she led me to a personal faith in Jesus as my Saviour. After the meeting there was a great rejoicing and hugging in the hall. I was not used to such sow of emotions, although my heart was bubbling over as well. I would have loved to stay for tea with the other people, but I was so guilt-ridden about the lie I had told my husband. That was new to me. Before this I had no problem lying without feeling guilty blush. Had my husband gone to my sister to look for me there would, of course, have been trouble. I simply returned home to continue preparationing for ‘Labarang Gadjji.’ Spiritual growth on my own Deep inside I was yearning to share with someone what had happened to me. I looked for a Bible for I knew that I needed it in order to grow in my new-found faith. I was so happy that I could hardly wait to tell everybody about it, including my husband. He was shocked and reacted in the fashion that his religion - and mine up to that point in time - prescribes: persecution! I got no money from him to buy food for the family. I was told, “Ask your Jesus to give you and the children something to eat!” The electricity and the water were also cut and the phone was unplugged. Then my husband really went all out to make life miserable for my children and me. My baby sister murdered The Lord intervened in a strange way. My youngest sister, who had also become a born-again follower of Jesus - and the one whom I had silently admired - was brutally murdered. A complete numbness took hold of me. My own husband was abusing me, but I didn’t feel it. It was as if I was anaesthetised. He also ordered other people, for example a Muslim neighbour, to spy on me. So he knew about almost every single movement I made while he was at work. This just could not go on for very long. I broke down, and was soon admitted to Lentegeur Psychiatric Hospital. For three long years I was in and out of this institution. I particularly suffered from the pain of repeated partings and separation from my three children. Their visits were therefore always a real tonic. I have vivid memory of an occasion during one of my visits there when our eldest daughter put her head on my lap. A deep feeling of intense happiness overwhelmed me, “They still love me!” That was so encouraging at a time when my faith was under attack as well. Discharge without freedom Once I took a brief look at my co-patients. I was completely perplexed. My whole being rebelled: “I don’t belong here!” A look in the mirror completed the shock. My hair had turned white. I had become an old lady within a short time. Then a quiet voice came to me, “You are here for a purpose!” I knew it was Jesus reassuring me. I found courage to stick firmly to my faith in my Lord and Saviour. I was ultimately discharged from the Lentegeur Psychiatric Hospital. Then the most difficult trial came my way via our daughter when she put the question to me, “Do you think that it is right that we must suffer for your faith?” It appeared that even the Christians had rejected me. I decided to end my misery: I took an overdose of my tablets. Under normal circumstances this should have been fatal, but the Lord had his hand on me. I slept for three days on end, but survived. I received a new lease of life. Thereafter my husband unexpectedly gave notice of his intention to divorce me. On top of that, I had become addicted to the drugs given to me. Somehow I regained my faith in the Lord although I had no fellowship with other believers. I decided that I had had enough of all these drugs. The Lord would have to help me. For two weeks I wrestled through all the symptoms of ‘cold turkey’ with constant shivering and other horrible experiences. I just kept praying. I sensed that the Lord was miraculously bringing me through the whole ordeal. A sense of humour When everything seemed to continue turning ugly on us, I was blessed with a sense of humour. When we had no food in the house and the beds had been taken back because the instalments had not been paid, I announced bravely, “Let’s play camp.” I still had a few marshmallows, which we burned over the candles! Under these circumstances our eldest daughter had a very difficult time. She was so ashamed of the putrid conditions at home. She was then more-or-less the breadwinner with a casual job at a supermarket. When a young lad with whom she was working came home with her, if she wanted to disappear into the earth with shame, but I told her that if he were really interested in her, he would be prepared to take her home conditions in his stride. My husband then challenged me with an ultimatum, “You must return to Islam or I will divorce you.” However, when he started to bring other women into the house, I thought that I had a biblical reason to file for a divorce myself. The wheels started to turn Slowly the wheels started turning. My biggest joy as a mother came when our youngest daughter asked me, “Mommy, how does one accept Jesus?” What a slice of glory it was to lead her to the Lord. Now I had a co-believer in the home! When I got a few casual jobs, window-dressing and sewing, I had money to spend! I felt like a queen! Someone gave us some hake and from another quarter we got a gift of chicken. It seemed as if the sun was really breaking through the clouds! The devil must have been furious. My husband refused to leave the house, hoping that we would leave. It was very difficult when our daughter wanted to know what the other woman was doing in our house. But we had nowhere to go. At night my husband started carrying out our furniture. He also tried to use witchcraft to get me back into Islam. He started chanting Arabic verses from the Qur’an while he burned every Bible in the house on which he could lay his hands. I had grown in faith by then and I quietly rebuked the devil ‘in the name of Jesus.’ I simply responded to my husband’s taunts with, “Jesus loves you.” Obviously I had been strengthened in my heart to have been able to react in this way. I then attended a nearby church although I did at first not experience real fellowship. I just sat there week after week, surprised at the apparent shallowness of the other Christians. The persecution and suffering had moulded me. I could not bother about material things anymore. When an announcement was made in the church about a seminar that was to be held in Bloemfontein, about 1000 km away, I just listened without even remotely considering going there. Where would I ever get the money for such a trip? A seminar in Bloemfontein When I got home a few days later, I discovered that there was a piece of paper in my coat with the following words written on it, “You are being sponsored to attend the seminar in Bloemfontein.” I was so surprised that the people in the church had shown an interest in me. I was overawed at the prospect, but the practical problem of what to do with my three children remained. What would happen to them if I went to Bloemfontein? I decided to take the matter to the Lord in prayer. My faithful Saviour heard my cry. My mother volunteered to look after the children in my absence. The Lord supplied not only my bus fare and the conference fee, but also ten rand as pocket-money. I just had to praise him. The seminar was a big blessing. The devil was almost honour bound to hit back on my return ... The threat of eviction from our home was real due to massive arrears in rent and electricity. Out of the blue, the Lord intervened by way of a big cheque a social grant from the Department of Coloured Affairs. (I had almost forgotten that I had lodged an application for maintenance. Initially it had been turned down because my husband was working. Due to the divorce and a compassionate official, quite a large sum was granted.) I couldn’t wait to cash the cheque so that I could go and pay the bills. By that time the residential area where we stayed had become completely Islamised. Our home stuck out like a sore thumb. Our house was stoned to intimidate us. In prayer I simply rebuked the perpetrators. One particular family earmarked our house for irritation and persecution. When I rebuked them in the name of Jesus, they soon noticed that they couldn’t play around with my Lord without getting hurt themselves. By then our house had been completely ransacked. I wanted to buy linoleum for the kitchen floor, which looked really horrible. The carpet in the living room was full of holes. A big surprise came our way when my Muslim brother-in-law asked me to refrain from buying the linoleum for the kitchen. He not only bought the linoleum for the kitchen but also for the lobby, the toilet and the bathroom. He even tiled the kitchen himself with no strings attached. It seemed as if a few relatives were ashamed of the treatment my husband had given us as a family. They noticed that I was becoming stronger in my faith in spite of the trials and that my faith does not depend on material things. Other Muslim relatives still shunned me. When my eldest daughter wanted to get married, I warned her not to go through life and into marriage without Jesus as her Saviour. What a blessing it was when she decided to follow Jesus shortly before the wedding. My son is still a Muslim. It broke my heart to hear how he was taunted and beaten by his Muslim friends: he was a thorn in their flesh because in their view, he is “’n kris met ’n slamse naam” (a Christian with a Muslim name). I am proud of my son and blessed that he stuck with me although I did not share his religion. I trust that at heart he already understands what a living faith in Jesus is all about. It also broke my heart when my youngest daughter left our faith to marry a Muslim. But I continue to pray that all my children will one day follow and serve Jesus. Every day is a new challenge. I look forward to the day when we may serve the Lord as a united family. A gangster discovers that Jesus is alive The wages of sin is death but the gift of God is eternal life… (Romans 6: 23) The issue of gangsterism Gangsterism was already a problem in the days of District Six, the vibrant area of Cape Town that was to become a White residential suburb in the wake of the Group Areas Act. After the enforced evictions and removal of people because of that notorious law, the ‘Coloured’ community was thrown into disarray. The problem area of gangsterism was one that grew to crisis dimensions. Stable families were unsettled and many youngsters from upright Christian and Muslim homes found their way to gangster peers. In due course drug dealing and gangsterism became the domain of Muslims. The leadership was predominantly in Islamic hands, to the dismay of the religious part of their community. Hardly a family remained that was not affected in some way or other. To this day the problem of gangsterism has not been solved, but many a gangster has been challenged, especially in prison. Also, Muslims have come to a living faith in Jesus while in prison. Not all of them have continued living with Jesus after their discharge. We have included the story of one of the ex-gangsters who somehow managed to stay out of prison and whose conversion and commitment has been used by God to touch many lives. I was eager for revenge and rejoiced when my brother stabbed the opposition gang leader. We were a Christian family until my father decided to take another wife. So the whole family became Muslim. I got embroiled with gangsters at the age of 13 years after a gang beat me up. The young ruffians had been trying to get hold of my brother, who was the leader of the ‘29’ gang at that time. The emblem of the ‘29’s was the hammer and sickle, which led to them being called the Communists. I was eager for revenge and rejoiced when my brother stabbed the opposition gang leader. This was my introduction to the gang. I left school prematurely because there was not enough money to keep me there. All in all we were twenty-two children, eighteen from my mother and four children from my father’s second wife. Soon I was a gang leader myself, heading the ‘Dirty Marbles’ of the township of Silvertown. In the running battles we often used petrol bombs. When I was seventeen I almost killed another gang leader with an axe. For the ensuing court case a ‘doekom’ (witch doctor) was approached to keep me out of prison. Because my parents had no money to pay him, I did not get the required ‘treatment’. I resorted to something I never did before. I prayed to God. (We perceived this as different from calling on the aloof Allah, to whom we would make our Arabic duah’s that we very seldom understood.) I defended myself in court, citing self-defence as an excuse. I was acquitted but I completely forgot about my prayer to the living God. I just returned to my life-style. Do you love Jesus? By now I was employed at a factory in Ndabeni where I had started working in 1971. Some sort of revival was taking place at the Anglican Church in Manenberg at the beginning of August 1974.1 As a result of that, one of the church members was soon singing choruses in our factory. ‘Aunty Rose’ would also sing a chorus playfully at work and insert the names of different workers. The other workers seemed to have no problem with replying to the question, “… do you love Jesus?” To be honest, when ‘Aunty Rose’, the Christian lady, came to me in the butchery of the factory on the 7th August 1974 with the same strange question, “Mogamat, do you love Jesus”, I had no hesitation about saying, “Yes, I love Jesus.” It was part of my life-style to lie anyway. I had no qualms about shaking her off a second time. However, when she came with the question a third time, she put it even more emphatically, “Mogamat, do you really love Jesus?” Then I became really angry. I started swearing fiercely and left the butchery in a rage. But out of the blue a voice came to me and I instinctively knew it had to be the voice of Jesus - in my own dialect of Cape Afrikaans, “Djy sê djy’t my lief, maar djy lieg” (“You say that you love me, but you are lying.”) I went to the cloakroom, took out my cigarettes and started to smoke. Again the same voice was there, “Dink djy dis die regte ding om te doen?” (“Do you think you are doing the right thing?”) I felt like a hunted criminal. God was on my case. I knew I could not hide myself. I was unaware that my girlfriend had accepted the Lord as her Saviour that same day at a midday cottage meeting in their home. But when I saw her the next day - her birthday - her face was shining and I immediately knew something must have happened to her. I complained to her about the spirit that had haunted me but she only reacted by inviting me to go to church with her that evening. I had my reply ready, “Djy’t jou geloef en ek het myne!” (“You’ve got your religion, I’ve got mine!”) To be very intimate with my girlfriend was quite normal to me. We already had a son from our relationship. However, now she refused to co-operate because she was converted and I was furious, “The first night you go to church you come back with this nonsense. I’m sure you met some man at the church.” I was really convinced that was the case. I agreed to go to church with her on the Sunday morning. I wanted to set that chap straight. I dressed up in ‘collar and tie’ - that I found very strange, and I accompanied her to the wooden and iron Pentecostal church building where her family worshipped. I had my packet of cigarettes which I wanted to offer to the brothers when I heard Satan speaking to me in a deep awful voice, “As djy gaan roek, gaan die mense net vir jou priek, want al die mense in dié kêk is bekeer.” (“If you smoke here, the people are just going to preach to you because everybody in this church is converted.”) There was no new boyfriend at the church ‘as I had surmised’ but a chorus they sang about Jesus of Nazareth stuck in my mind, “Something good is happening to you.” The familiar voice of Jesus said to me, “Give your life to me or your child will die.” I then burst into tears, crying throughout the very long service. I hardly listened to the message. I only came to my senses at the altar call to which I responded immediately. As I went forward, demons from within me were screaming, “Please don’t let these people pray for you.” I turned around from the altar at the front of the church and walked back to my seat. A church brother came to me saying, “We didn’t pray for you!” When he prayed for me the demons disappeared immediately. That evening I made up my mind: This Christianity was not for me. I did not feel like missing all my fun. I just wanted to terminate the friendship with the mother of our child. That same Sunday evening I told my girlfriend, “Let’s break up. I love the pleasures of the world too much.” I perceived the life of a Christian to be dull and dreary. Fast and pray or else! The next morning, however – the Monday - there was the voice of God once again, this time with a stern warning, “Fast and pray or else!” My heart reacted, “I am only 19 years old. What about my life?” How wrong I was to think that being a Christian was drab. But at that moment the white wall in front of me turned ‘dark’, coming towards me. I sensed that this was God’s warning. Without him I was facing a dark future. The voice reminded me of my previous encounters with Jesus at the factory and at the church. I did not mind the fasting part of the command. As a Muslim I fasted during the month of Ramadan. But praying? I only knew the “Our Father” which I had learnt at school. I then simply converted an air-conditioned room at the factory, which was hardly used, into my prayer room, starting with the Lord’s Prayer. When I came to the sentence “Thy will be done,” a deep sense of my sinfulness overwhelmed me. I just could not continue. Some of the wicked things I had been doing came over my lips. Later I learnt that I was actually ‘confessing my sins’. I felt so much better after the prayer. This ‘praying’ went on for two weeks. Every time I came to “Thy will be done,” other sins came up in my mind that I had to confess. How real 1 John 1: 9 became – “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.” I felt so pure and clean. More cleansing was to come in the spiritual battle every time I tried to pray the Lord’s Prayer. Gradually I developed a personal relationship with Jesus. A month of seeking the face of God resulted in an issue that kept bugging me. I ate only at night, thus practising fasting as I used to as a Muslim. Early one Saturday morning at about 3 am I woke up crying fiercely. I asked my brother, “Why am I crying?” The Holy Spirit now spoke to me, “Lean not on the arm of flesh.” I had no clue that this was actually a Bible verse; I just wondered what it meant. When a sense of guilt overcame me I went outside and I asked, “Lord, where did I fail you?” But there was no reply. I went into the toilet to pray. As a Muslim this would have been unthinkable. A loud, beautiful voice now came to me almost like thunder, “Do you believe that my Son, Jesus, died for your sins?” I said, “Yes, I do”. I knew that this must have been God himself. And then a second voice came to me that I thought was the Holy Spirit, “Do you believe that I died for your sins?” I then understood how very close the Holy Spirit actually is to Jesus. How different it was the very next morning. When I woke up on Sunday morning, I felt like a new person, as perfect as Adam must have been after he had been created by God. It dawned on me: “Jesus is real. He is alive.” If you seek Him with all your heart, He will reveal himself to you. The thought came into my mind that John 3:16, which I knew by heart, was found in all Bibles - not only in that of a particular church. Leukaemia! My ‘perfect’ bodily feeling had a special touch because for four months I had actually been suffering from leukaemia and was attending Groote Schuur Hospital at that time. That diagnosis was like a death sentence – leukaemia kills in months rather than years. Soon after my conversion the realities of life set in. I was not allowed to pray at home and my Christian friends were not allowed to visit me. Even my girlfriend was banned from our home. Yet my mother noticed the difference in my life because I was not going to shebeens and hotels for alcohol. Instead, I was coming home with my full salary. As far as my health was concerned, I was going through a trying time. In three months I lost so much weight that I had hardly any clothes that still fitted me. I felt that I would die soon. But what a difference in how I felt about the prospect of death! A few months prior to this during gang battles, I was terribly afraid of dying. Now I was ready to die and I was actually praying, “Lord, please come and fetch me.” God had other plans in store for me. One Monday evening when I attended a prayer meeting, the lady pastor who led the meeting came up to me. She did not know I was suffering from leukaemia and she probably had no medical knowledge. Yet she announced prophetically, “The Lord says, ‘the white cells kill the red cells.’ Tomorrow you’ll see what God will do for you.” The next day, however, I was terribly sick. When I started the machine at work I felt as if I was going to die. But then suddenly the Holy Spirit came over me. I just had to praise the Lord there and then. The other workers thought I was going crazy. But I sensed that God was healing me. The miracle happened. At the end of that month, October 1974, I went for a blood test. The medical officer said that mine was the best batch of the day! God gave me a new lease of life, because that was almost thirty years ago. I praise Him from the depth of my heart for his goodness. Tears were my daily bread “Anyone who loves his father or mother more than me is not worthy of me…” (Matthew 10:37) Islam is more than just a religion Islam is much more than merely a religion. It is a life-style. In fact, the lives of its adherents are often completely governed by it. However, it is not always pleasant, e.g. when children are not free to play like other children. Occasionally the Islamic duties are experienced as a choking burden, even to such an extent that teenage suicide is considered. In such a case marriage is experienced as liberation. On at least one occasion, it turned out to be an illusion, only leading to more bondage. The ‘freedom’ started at the lowest point. The wife planned a fatal suicide attempt as the only solution. Nevertheless, she found a way out although it was a very steep and thorny road, especially for someone with a suicidal tendency. She discovered that Jesus could also carry one through even under very difficult circumstances. My husband would have to see the broken pieces of my body. I was going to give him what he wanted: a broken, dead person. I was going to jump out of the train right at the spot where an express train came in the opposite direction every morning. I was born into a staunch Muslim family, and was about 5 years old when my religious “duties” commenced in all earnestness. I was put under constant pressure to be a good Muslim as well as a good student at school. I was only allowed to play during interval at school and during school holidays. Daily ritual prayer For me a normal day started at daybreak with performing salat for Fajr (the pre-dawn prayer). This I could only do after the prescribed ritual washing, abdas. Then I would either go back to bed, study, do homework or recite the Qur’an. At seven o’clock I had to get ready for school. After school, I had to eat quickly, take abdas and rush off to Muslim school (Madressah), which was at the local mosque in Bonteheuwel, one of the first townships on the Cape Flats that came into being after the Group Areas community upheavals. Upon my arrival there, I had to “pay back” (recompense) my midday prayer (salat for Jhur). I was in debt to Allah because it was not done at the required time, for the Midday Prayer. At that time I was at school. We were taught that we would earn a greater reward if we stayed at the mosque for this prayer. If Madressah finished earlier, I had to rush home to help my mother prepare supper. The dusk prayer was then performed at home. I had to stay on the musalah (prayer mat) and recite the Qur’an until about an hour later when it was time for the last prayer of the day, Ishaa. Only after Ishaa I was allowed to undress, eat, listen to the radio or do my homework and/or get ready for bed. If we had visitors, my parents would brag with me, “showing off” by letting me recite from the Qur’an for the guests. An extremely miserable jealous child During school holidays Madressah started in the mornings, and I could squeeze in some time to play. Over weekends I also had little time to play. The result of all this was that I became an extremely miserable, jealous child. Soon when I did get some time to play I fought with the neighbours’ children. I hated them because of all the time they had to play, swim and climb trees. They could also show off their beautiful hair, while I had to hide mine under a scarf. At the age of fourteen I attempted suicide for the first time. At the age of seventeen I met my soon-to-be husband. Two weeks later, when my parents found that I had befriended a male, they insisted that my boyfriend’s parents come and speak to them. After a long meeting, the two families decided that it was best that we marry. I was thrilled. This meant that I was now a grown woman. My fiancé also hated all the Islamic rituals. I would be free from all these enforced duties! Marriage did not turn out to be what I thought it would be. It was horrible. My husband expected me to be an example to our children, while he did as he pleased. Pretty soon I was a frustrated, fat housewife. He used this as an excuse to have extra-marital affairs. Soon tears were my daily bread! During this time, I attempted suicide five more times. I was extremely depressed. I realised that I had to do something with my life. Studies towards a career in education One day I made up my mind to study towards a career in education. I attended evening classes and finally passed matric with an exemption. My husband did not want me to go to college as a full-time student, because I would then be away from home during the day, the children would have to go to a crèche (day care centre for toddlers) and his meals would not be on time. Last but not least, it would also cost him money. My parents offered to pay my registration fees and my mother offered to look after the children. My spouse was now completely upset. On the evening before my first day at college, he assaulted me so badly that he broke my spectacles. I went to college all bruised. My parents paid for my new glasses and even financed my travelling expenses to and from college. A whole new and exciting world opened up for me. Every morning I boarded a train on which I soon became a very sceptical listener of the Christian sermons.2 I had 14 subjects at college, a lot of homework and assignments. One of these subjects was Biblical Studies. Now - I argued - if I sat in this specific carriage where the Train Ministries’ sermons were preached, I could listen to the Bible readings and their explanations every day. This would certainly shorten my study time, for I would get a lot of the information I needed. It worked! At college I was extremely happy, because I was amongst naughty, lively young people. In this way, I caught up on my lost youth. I could now also learn a little about sport and comradeship. After college, I rushed home, cooked and cleaned in a hurry, took care of my children and saw to my husband’s needs. That would usually last until at least midnight. My husband made it clear: he did not want any hassles because of my studies. Instead, he found fault with everything I did; I was beaten on a regular basis. Another suicide attempt One morning, during the mid-year examinations in my first year, he cursed me and then assaulted me badly on top of it. He did not want me to go to the college, but I was determined to write my exams. On my way to the station, I felt so depressed and tired that I decided on a final suicide attempt. I wanted to make absolutely sure that it would succeed this time. I was going to end my life in the weirdest way possible. My husband would have to see the broken pieces of my body. I was going to give him what he wanted - a broken, dead person. Then, I thought, he could get all the women he wanted. I was going to jump out of the train at Philippi station where an express train passed in the opposite direction every morning. I took off my rings and threw them on the railway track before I boarded the train at Kapteinsklip station. I scribbled a suicide note and put it in my bag. Before the train pulled out of the station, the Christians in the carriage began to sing the chorus, ‘I know the Lord will make a way for me...’ They followed this up with, ‘Because he lives, I can face tomorrow’. I cried as my miserable life started to flash before me. The second chorus was a favourite of my dear uncle. He was a Christian and a delightful person. On top of that he had a wonderful relationship with his children. I had very little contact with him, because the family saw to it that I was kept away from the “Nasaras” (Christians). Soon I was thinking of this uncle whose life was so different. My thoughts must have been very deep, because all of a sudden a fellow student said that it was time to leave the train. I had forgotten all about my suicide mission! Afterwards I understood that this was the Lord’s doing. Early in the next term I had to complete a study assignment about the monotheistic religions i.e. Judaism, Christianity and Islam. Seven library books were borrowed for that purpose. Long after the assignment was handed in, I still studied those books. Eventually I was convinced that Jesus was indeed the Son of God. Muhammad was an excellent warrior, yes! But Jesus was completely different. He conquered without fighting! I borrowed a Bible from someone. Then I learnt that only the blood of Jesus could cleanse one from ALL sin. This answered many of my questions. I had always wondered why people needed thousands of Rands to complete a pilgrimage in order to get their sins forgiven. I wondered why I first had to perform a ritual washing before I could bow before Allah or read the Qur’an. I always needed to be clean and my clothes had to be clean. But - I thought - what about my mind, my heart? Love as the one missing word Love was the one word that was missing in the vocabulary of so many Muslims I knew. This was the one thing I had been longing for all my life. With Jesus I could relax, because he loved this miserable, fat, frustrated me. I did not have to rush like a mad person to “pay back” debt. He loved me unconditionally; He was forgiving. He did not look at my faults, but he saw my needs! It slowly dawned on me that I needed the freedom Jesus had to offer. At that stage, my marriage seemed to have stabilized. My husband started his own business and he was gradually accepting that I was a student. He was now even paying my travelling costs! I did not dare to confront him with my new discovery! Although he was not a good Muslim, he was fanatical about his religion and he would certainly kill me this time. I also did not want to sacrifice my family for Jesus. They would reject me. I soon dropped the idea of becoming a Christian. I passed my first year at College and my husband seemed to have become proud of me. He soon made a lot of money and we could now afford to keep up with the Joneses - in this case his family. My sisters-in-law did not like the new, half-liberated woman I had become. Soon a fierce exchange of words ensued followed by a physical fight. I stabbed my sister-in-law and was then badly beaten by my sisters and brothers-in-law. My husband sided with them and left the house around the New Year of 1990. I was now without money and a husband. I struggled to make ends meet and did a bit of ironing for friends in order to keep the pot boiling. At that point in time Jesus made himself noticeable at every corner. But I was determined to get my husband back and would not risk becoming a murtat (an apostate). Yet, I was now in great need of him (Jesus). I had my back against the wall and Jesus was knocking furiously at my heart’s door. Sermons in the train Morning after morning, the sermons in the train made me cry. Here was a loving Jesus waiting with his arms open wide, while I chose to wait for a heartless husband. In May 1990 I heard that my husband had married someone else by Muslim rights while he simultaneously filed for divorce from me. I went to the Imam who married us. I was shocked and cried when the Imam told me there was nothing I could do. That was the lot of a Muslim woman. I just had to accept the other wife in his life. Meanwhile I had scant information about my husband’s whereabouts. I only heard about him through our attorneys. We (my children and I) went to bed without food for many a night. Finally I could no longer ignore Jesus. The last Sunday evening in May 1990 I was alone in my bedroom and cried out to Jesus. I begged for forgiveness and told him all about my misery. Immediately, the very next day, there was a great difference. Even before I told Christians about my acceptance of Jesus as my Saviour, they came swarming to me with food and money. They told me not to worry but to complete my studies. Christians supported me faithfully. The train ministry paid the municipal rates for our house while I had to stretch the change from my college bursary to cover the rest of our needs. Thereafter we never suffered hunger, for there was assistance from all sides. My divorce was finalised in October of that year, after which my husband returned to me with the request to be reconciled. I told him about my conversion to Christianity. He did not accept it and once again assaulted me. The beating did not change my mind. (My stepfather had died a month prior to the divorce.) I actually wanted to tell my mother of my decision myself. I was just waiting for an appropriate time to do it. I loved her and knew she was still mourning my stepfather’s death. But my husband smashed everything in the house and then promptly told my mother that I was a Christian. My mother went berserk. She pleaded, cried and threatened to commit suicide. I cried too, but I was determined not to go back to the bondage of Islam. I was no longer going to live my life in a way that pleased only others. I was now determined to live for Christ and enjoy my new found freedom. My family rejected me completely, but Jesus saw my need. A family in Bellville South took us to their home every weekend and every holiday. The couple became like my own brother and sister. They were there for me 24 hours a day. The wife’s mother and father became my parents and happily functioned as grandparents to my children. They assisted me in raising my children for many years. We are such a part of one another. We share all our love, ambitions, disappointments, touching moments of our souls and, most of all, a loving Father in heaven. The conversion of an Imam Remember those in prison as if you were their fellow prisoners… (Hebrews 13: 3) Combination of trading and religious activities Imams at the Cape have not traditionally been full-time clergymen. Trading and artisanship have been in the blood of Muslims almost from the very early beginnings at the Cape. Crooked dealings were unfortunately sometimes part of their practice and not condemned outright by Cape Islamic society. One of these Imam-cum-traders was, however, caught out by the arm of justice and given a prison sentence. His conversion in 1992 – and that of his wife - are demonstrations of the lived-out testimonies of followers of Jesus Christ and of the power of prayer. Before his conversion, our Imam frustrated the evangelistic efforts of Christian inmates. As a disciple of Ahmed Deedat, a famous South African Muslim polemic author, the former Imam fully utilized his time in the Caledon prison, to not only set up meetings for Muslim inmates, but also to win many Christians over to Islam. Our Imam was well versed in the Bible and the literature of Ahmed Deedat. Deedat was his hero at the time. Three Christians decided to take him on through prayer and fasting. As the Imam studied the Bible - in order to debate the Christians even better - he was bowled over by the comparison between the Biblical and Qur’anic narration of the near sacrifice of Isaac. He knew that the Bible had been written long before the Qur’an was ‘revealed’. Being as studious as I was, I naturally asked myself which Scripture was correct. I had to face the fact that the Bible had been written years before the Qur’an. That meant that we as Muslims had been misled. I was raised as a staunch Muslim. I studied our religion intensely. In due course I was the junior Imam at two mosques. Soon I was more or less running the affairs of the house mosque in Belhar, one of the newer Cape townships at the time when there were only a few Muslims in the area. I was also trading, dealing fraudulently - not very different to the way others also operated. But I was caught out and sentenced. I was incarcerated at the prison in Caledon almost 100 km away from home. This was very inconvenient for my wife and the family yet they visited me faithfully. Being the devout Muslim I was, I soon negotiated with the prison authorities and gained their respect so that I could get a separate venue for religious exercises. Soon Christians were joining us there. In the discussions with them they were no match for me because I had been studying the da’wah (Islamic mission) literature published by Ahmed Deedat intensely. Quite a few of them were soon joining us, some embracing Islam. Our cause was aided by the fact that many gangsters were Muslims. This gave the impression that one could just continue with a sinful life-style and engage in some fasting at Ramadan, along with occasional visits to the mosque to show that one was still a Muslim. There were also some born-again inmates who had their meetings on Saturday afternoon on the open square of the prison yard. Their informal meetings could not be compared to the sedate events in our Islamic meetings, of which I was quite proud. The message they proclaimed was hardly attractive to the rank and file prisoner, expecting the new Christian to break with his criminal habits and life-style if he would become a believer like them. Yet, there was something that they were radiating that made me very curious. I started befriending them to find out what it was. Their jovial Pentecostal meetings made me jealous. They used a guitar and were overtly enjoying their worship. Soon I adapted my gadats (religious meetings) to bring in some joyous elements. But it didn’t work. Their bubbling excitement was not to be copied. I noticed that their joy came from within. What I did not know was that they were actually fasting and praying for my conversion. In arguments they could not thrash me! For that I was far too clever. I continued studying the Bible - in order to argue with the Christians even better. I especially loved the book of Proverbs in the Bible. One day my Bible fell open at Genesis 22. There I read the story of Abraham who had to sacrifice his son. I was excited as I discovered that this was almost exactly how we had been taught and how I narrated the event with the knife and other little details. Well, not quite, because I did not notice that Abraham sensed something special on the third day; that the resurrection of Jesus was actually prefigured in Genesis 22. (Only many years later I found out that Hebrews 11:19 was actually speaking of Abraham’s resurrection hope that Isaac could be brought back to life). But what really hit me was that the boy in Genesis 22 was Isaac, not Ishmael as I had always believed and taught. This troubled me. Being as studious as I was, I naturally asked myself which Scripture was correct. I had to face the fact that the Bible had been written years before the Qur’an. That meant that we as Muslims had been misled. That was very humiliating but I just could not go on like that. The inmates were shocked when I told them they had to go on without me, that I could not continue serving them as an Imam. My doubts about Islam were followed by a search, which ended in my acceptance of Jesus as my Lord and Saviour. Thereafter all hell seemed to break loose!! I still had to go through a major learning curve in prison, but God brought me through wonderfully. When I wanted to break the news to my wife by phone God in his mercy intervened. She should tell her part of this experience herself. The wife of an Imam Being the wife of an Imam of a small house mosque did not mean as much to me as just being a Muslim. All around us were Christians, some of whom actually invited me to go with them to their church. But I never even considered these invitations. “I was born a Muslim and I shall die a Muslim!” That was my vogue, and nobody was going to change that. In our home there was a special rakam – a beautiful handcrafted image of the Ka’ba in Mecca. One day a dove flew into our house and went and sat exactly on the Ka’ba. This was so very special to me that I wanted to shout it from the rooftop. Imagine my excitement when my husband phoned from prison just that day! He had something special to tell me but I insisted on being first to break the special news about the dove. After I had finished my story, he only reacted coolly with “So the dove brought the news to you. I accepted Jesus as my Lord!” I threw down the phone in a rage, wondering how I was going to raise my children. To me divorce would be the automatic result. I was not going to live with a Nasara, a Christian. I had been taught to keep away from the Christians, let alone have one of them as a spouse. For the moment I knew what I had to do. My husband was not going to get any visits in prison from the family and me. I would not allow him to come into our house after his discharge. However when he was discharged I did not have the heart to leave him on the street. I decided to allow him into the house for some time. For six months we lived separate lives. Secretly I hoped that he would return to the Islamic faith. But otherwise, I would see to it that his life became as miserable as possible because of what he had done to us! I objected fiercely, of course, when he had the temerity to pray for our children. I told him in so many words that he had to leave because “you are bringing us bad luck!” He remained quiet, hardly responding to my vicious outbursts. Yet, I could not overlook how he had changed. It bugged me that he was going to church and getting more and more involved with the group ‘Prisoners for Christ’. At that time I still smoked. One day as I had a good puff, a clear voice came to me in a commanding tone, “Woensdag is daar ´n diens in julle huis.” (“On Wednesday a cottage meeting is to be held in your home!”) I knew that this meant a Christian house service. When my husband entered the home, I obediently echoed the voice of the Lord, “On Wednesday a cottage meeting is to be held in your home!” He could not believe his ears and jumped for joy. He and his church people had been praying for us as a family. I made no objections when my husband and his cronies starting removing the ‘rakams’ from the wall, including the beautiful one of Mecca. The Holy Spirit had been breaking down my resistance as I saw how my husband was changing for the better all the time. It was not long before all of us served the Lord Jesus together as a family. That, however, was only the start of a trying time for us, especially after 1995 when my husband started to give his testimony in churches. He was threatened more than once. We heard via the grapevine how the fact that our children still had Muslim names, saved my husband’s life. When PAGAD (People against Gangsterism and Drugs) were ravaging the Cape, we really never knew whether that, which we all feared would happen. But my husband just plodded on bravely, prepared to give his life in the service of Him who gave His life for us. I went to Mecca twice ...a time is coming when you will worship the Father neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem... (John 4:21) The ultimate dream of the Muslim To go to Mecca is seen as the ultimate dream of any Muslim. The pagan origins of the Ka’ba in Mecca, the ancient shrine of pre-Islamic Arabia with its black stone, is not generally known. Hubal was the Lord of the Ka’ba, with Al-lat the major goddess of the shrine. Allah, who had previously been known as an Arabic god, was made the sole deity when Muhammad wanted to stress the monotheist, which he had embraced destroying 360 idols of the shrine. The founder of Islam wanted to emphasise that in the new religion they were worshipping only one god which he suggested to be identical to Yahweh, the sole Deity of the ‘People of the Book’ (the Jews, the Christians and the Sabeans). Many Muslims are quite surprised when they don’t have a special experience at the sacred place. A similar trauma usually follows when they compare the Qur’an, their sacred book, with the Bible, which was written much earlier. Christians are advised to be compassionate and loving when they refer to this matter. Here follows the story of a lady who experienced many traumas as she searched after inner peace with God. My husband and I went to Mecca once again, but this visit really increased my doubts about Islam. I had none of these special feelings that I was supposed to experience there. In fact, I was still my horrible self. I grew up as a staunch Cape Muslim of influential stock. When I was very young we moved to my grandfather in Wynberg. Next to our home there was a church, the Gospel Hall. From a very young age I watched the people attending the church closely. They had something that attracted me. I loved the hymns that came from the church. After some time I knew many of the hymns by heart. I studied to be a teacher, a profession I really loved. I was very fortunate to get a teaching post, because in those days that was not so easy. It was of course easier for me to get a post at a school where there were predominantly Muslims. Eventually I married the school principal. As a good Muslim I had aspirations to go on pilgrimage to Mecca. I was overjoyed when my husband announced, “Look, it is time for our furlough! Let us go to Mecca!” I was elated. Now I could fulfil the last one of the five Islamic pillars. Being the staunch Muslim I was, reciting the five prayers per day belonged to my way of life. This included the creed, another one of the pillars. We were generous in giving alms, especially during the fasting month of Ramadan, that I upheld meticulously. Two visits to Mecca The visit to Mecca did not fulfil my expectations. In fact, it only created questions. However, as a committed Muslim, I resolved that I would not question my religion. Instead, I would rather question myself. One can bluff anybody, but one cannot fool oneself. Things at the school were not going very well because I started taking over some of the responsibilities of a school principal. That was not good for the discipline in the school. I decided that it was time for a change. So I went to go and teach in Lavender Hill, an extremely poverty‑stricken residential area, actually more or less a squatter camp. Although every child came from a poor home, I was extremely happy there. I also had to teach Bible stories. Oh, how I loved them! My own children were growing up and heading for matric. I decided that I should also get that certificate. (In the old days one could go to training college after Standard 8 (Grade 10)). I had even passed Standard 9 (Grade 11). As one of my subjects for Matric I chose Biblical Studies. This wetted my appetite to go for tertiary education. Once again I took Biblical Studies towards a degree. Deep in my heart I was still searching for the ultimate truth. I loved to compare the Bible and the Qur’an. I also questioned Christians on issues like the reason for burying their people in coffins and eating pork. I wanted them to tell me where that could be found in the Bible. I was definitely not trying to corner them nor did I want to be difficult. If ever there was a sincere seeker after truth, I was one. But there was nobody around to help me. In the meantime I had piercing questions with regard to the religion of Islam as well. We had rules “from the womb to the tomb”. Increasingly, the Islamic customs left me very unsatisfied. In fact, it only made me doubt more. We were, for instance, expected to believe that we would receive punishment for our sins when we were in the grave one day. I was taught that an angel on our right and left shoulder was constantly recording our good and bad deeds respectively. My eternal destiny constantly haunted me. I was so afraid of going to hell! Also, the notion of punishment in the grave tormented me. One day I asked my husband, “How long is the punishment in the grave going to take?” He replied, “As long as there is a body.” I could not accept this answer because that would mean that Allah would be grossly unfair. I argued, “Those people who died near to the equator where the corpses would rot quickly would thus have a short punishment while those living at the North Pole would almost be punished forever! And what about people who were not buried, those who were bombed or burnt? Would they then have no punishment?” My husband was serving on all sorts of committees, also serving as an Imam. I didn’t dare to put my searching questions to anybody in the Muslim community. How would it look if the wife of an Imam came up with such questions? Besides that, it was not Islamic custom to question our religion in any way. One just had to believe what one was taught. We had two children who were fairly old when a third one, a baby daughter, our laatlammetjie (literally late lamb), was born. My husband and I went to Mecca once again, but that visit merely increased my doubts about Islam. I had none of those special feelings, which I was supposed to experience there. In fact, I was still my horrible self. I didn’t feel like playing around in make-believe! Terrified by the prospect of dying The real crunch came, however, when my husband died suddenly. What happened to him? That was the question which really plagued me. I was especially terrified of the prospect of dying. In Islam, one has no certainty regarding where one goes after death. I went to a Muslim doctor who gave me all sorts of sedatives. Of course, I could not share with him that I was considering becoming a Christian. I started to read the Bible secretly. The certainty that some Christians seemed to have - knowing where they would go when they die - was very attractive. But it was scary at the same time because I did not have that assurance. One day I read in the Bible: “For there is one God and one mediator, the man Christ Jesus, who gave himself as a ransom for all men...” That was exactly what I needed. I was desperate and eventually I found my way to the doctor once again. I asked him to refer me to a psychiatrist. “Why do you need a psychiatrist?” was his logical question. “I must speak to someone,” I replied. He said that I could speak to him. But I insisted on speaking to someone who did not know me. I was surprised that the Muslim doctor referred me to a real born-again psychiatrist ‑ not even a nominal Christian. I sensed that this man had a personal relationship with God. But he was a real gentleman. He never tried to inf1uence me in any way. I was at my wits end. I realised that he concluded it was because of the loss of my husband. Of course, that was a part of the cause. But then he said, “Mrs. O., that is not your problem!” I had to admit that this was so true. And then I simply blurted out, “Doctor, I don’t want to be a Muslim anymore!” I watched his reaction closely. But he just sat there jotting down notes. I was very surprised that he did not seem perplexed at all. Neither did he try to talk me out of this radical decision, nor did he try to give an explanation. At every one of six sessions with him I just cried the whole time. At this juncture; I was suddenly reminded of what I had been teaching my first‑graders at school, namely that one could speak to Jesus. Then I thought to myself, “Why should I pay the doctor a big sum of money every time?” And that just to talk to him? Haven’t I been teaching the children in Lavender Hill a song about Jesus being a friend? Then I might as well speak to him myself.” I started speaking to Jesus as a friend. Soon after that I had a dream of a man whose hands were covered with blood. I noticed that there were holes in his palms. The man just said, “My blood, my blood!” Something strange happened at this time. My daughter came to me with the question, “Mom, why do you want to become a Christian?” This was very strange because I had not spoken to anybody apart from the psychiatrist ‑ and the Lord ‑ about my inner struggle. Silently I prayed: “Lord, help me! What shall I tell my daughter?” And then, in a split second I had the answer. I told her, “Sweetheart, there is only one way to God, through Jesus!” Then, on the 27th of July 1992, I was challenged by a Bible verse, Joshua 24:15. “Choose ye this day...” I shall never forget that day. I committed my life to the Lord Jesus. I felt that I should phone my mother. I told her that I was sorry to hurt her, but that I was not apologizing for my convictions. Persecution set in with full force Thereafter the persecution set in with full force. Abusive phone calls streamed in and the windows of my house were smashed. In the end I could not take it anymore. I just had to get away from it all. But I was definitely not prepared to denounce my new‑found faith, which gave me such a deep joy from within. I took a Christian name to indicate my complete break with Islam. I sold our seven-bedroomed mansion for a paltry sum. With this money I bought a much smaller house. I then discovered how relative material things could be. In spite of all our wealth, I had had a constant emptiness. Now with my modest home, I was happy as never before. I was a born‑again Christian but I didn’t have any fellowship with other believers. One Sunday evening I decided to go to a church. I do not know why I thought that the church service should start at six o’clock. When I arrived at the sanctuary where I felt I should be, there was only one person present. It was the organist practising. But I was determined to wait untill the service started. Two days later two church members visited me. They cried with me. I sensed how real Christian fellowship could overcome all boundaries. However, my decision caused all sorts of problems within my family. The rift between my two older children and me became complete. The inner pain was very severe when my eldest daughter got married and I was not invited. On the other hand, a wonderful relationship developed with my youngest daughter. Soon thereafter I was baptised. It was very special that a believer who had been raised in the Jewish faith was baptised during the same service. For the first time in my life I had to battle financially. But the Lord was teaching me to depend on Him for everything. In very special ways he supplied all our needs. The next big blow was when my daughter had a baby, and I was not allowed to see my grandchild. I yearned with an aching heart to hold the baby only once. “What a friend we have in Jesus.” I also took this desire to the Lord in prayer. One day there was a knock on the door. It was my daughter with the baby. My heart just bubbled over with joy when she said, “This is your grandson!” Of course, I was allowed to hold and even to cuddle him. Now, quite a few years after my decision to accept Jesus as my Lord and Saviour, it is still a great thrill to see how He provides my every need. I am only sad that I had to wait such a long time to find Him - the way, the truth and the life. I have resolved to tell everybody, wherever I go, that Jesus loves us so much that He died for us. I challenge all Christians who know Jesus as Lord, to do the same! A glimpse into the heavenlies ‘My power is made perfect in weakness’ (2 Corinthians 12: 9) Dreams and visions Quite often God speaks to Muslims through dreams and visions. It seems that this is a prime divine method to get through to Muslims because they are usually quite resistant to the gospel. On the other hand, they are often quite proud of their own religion, believing it to be superior to any other one. According to Islamic teaching the Qur’an is the final revelation. The idea of progression is very strong. According to this view the Qur’an, the sacred book of Muslims, is the ultimate scripture after the Law (Tawrat) that was revealed to Moses, the Psalms (Zabur) that were given to David and the gospel (Injil, in the singular) that was brought by Jesus. Muhammad, as the instrument of the final revelation, is, therefore, also regarded as the greatest prophet. Many believers with a Muslim background, who came to faith in Jesus as their Lord, were challenged by a dream or vision at some stage of their lives. This is not very surprising, because Muhammad, the founder of the religion, received the Qur’an in a supernatural way as a result of visions. In another dreamlike experience that was very real to him, Muhammad believed he was taken from Mecca to Jerusalem and back by Jibril in a matter of seconds. (In 2 Corinthians 12, Paul, the apostle, refers to a similar experience that was so real to him that he did not know whether it was physical or not.) The woman, whose story follows, came to experience her faith as a very special relationship with Jesus after a supernatural glimpse into the heavenlies. As the clouds seemed to fold up, the angels also disappeared. Suddenly a big figure in white appeared on another cloud. Instinctively I knew that the man had to be Jesus. I was born out of wedlock and was only two years old when my mother married. I could never understand why my ‘father’ was so cruel to me. I was a good pupil at school, but he would tear up every diploma or report I brought home. Quite a few times he would throw me out of the house. When I was about 13 years old, I heard from a neighbour that the man I had grown to hate was not my real father. Shortly thereafter, when he beat me again, I told him, “You have no right to hit me. You are not my father!” This just made things worse. When a teacher suggested that I should just get married, I thought that this would possibly not be such a bad idea. I was yearning for love. Before long I was pregnant – only 17 years old, but still not married. I soon roamed the streets with my little son, content when I could stay with someone for a few days and do some odd jobs and chores as I went along. How glad I was when the man I fell in love with wanted to marry me. That he was a Muslim was no problem, because I had never really had a religion before that. I was 22 years old when we got married. Soon I was going through the daily Islamic rituals like ceremonial washing and praying on the musalah (prayer mat) in the direction of Mecca. It was only the fasting during Ramadan that I never kept. I openly took my bread parcel to the place where I was working during that time. I was not going to be hypocritical by eating secretly like others! All set to leave my husband I was already emotionally damaged and my husband also came from a broken marriage. My flight into matrimony on such a brittle basis was therefore quite risky. Our marriage was on the verge of breaking up when God stepped in. I was all set to leave, determined to be gone when my husband returned the next morning. As he left the house for his night shift, I started packing my belongings. My clothes had already been packed when God started speaking to me very clearly. That night, while I was sleeping, my ‘spirit’ led me to go outside. I heard beautiful music and I wondered where the singing was coming from. I thought that perhaps Christians were having an open-air service, but it would have been rather strange for it to take place in the early morning hours. Or was it some party extending into the early hours of Sunday? As I went to our front door, I felt driven from within to look up towards the sky. My eyes were soon glued to the clouds, which had strange formations. I sensed that the singing was coming from there. Angels on the clouds were singing the most beautiful tunes I had ever heard! As the clouds seemed to fold up, the angels also disappeared. Suddenly a big figure in a white robe appeared on another cloud. Instinctively I knew that the man had to be Jesus. He looked at me so compassionately, yet humbly. There was such authority and yet such humility and love, radiating from him, that I felt so filthy and unworthy. Nevertheless, he looked at me so lovingly without any accusations. After a few minutes - it might even have been seconds, but it felt like hours - the heavenly scene changed. The cloud with Jesus folded up and then I saw a huge book, with light shining from it onto a road. I saw my husband and myself walking on that road with our youngest son. And we were so happy, despite the fact that my marriage was really no bed of roses. Other people were singing and rejoicing on the same road. Next to the road in the darkness, which really was pitch black, I saw the silhouette of a demonic figure with a little devil next to him. It was very frightening, but I felt safe on the road, walking in the light that came from the book. Then the vision disappeared and I went back into the house. I saw myself lying on the bed. It must have been my spirit or soul, which had gone out of my body. My Christian background came back because I went to kneel next to the bed. I knew I had to ask the Lord for forgiveness and commit myself to Him. I sensed an indescribable peace and joy coming over me, such as I had never experienced before. When my husband came back from his work, he was quite surprised to see me. He had seen me packing my belongings, ready to leave him. He was really shocked by my reply, “I must go to a church!” A verbal tussle followed, “You can’t do that. We are Muslims! I cannot live with a Christian,” he exclaimed. I responded assertively, “If you want to divorce me, just go ahead. I saw angels and demons. I must get to a church.” I knew that a neighbour with whom I had grown up attended the church nearby so I went to her with a clear question, “At what time does your church start? I want to go with you.” She was quite surprised because she knew that I was a Muslim. After I told her about my vision, she agreed to take me along. At the church she immediately told the pastor about my vision. In the church it was my turn to be perplexed when the pastor called on ‘the Muslim lady’ to come and share her supernatural vision. Initially when my friend had suggested this, I protested fiercely, “I have never before spoken to a group of people.” However, something strange happened to me. It seemed as if I was lifted from my seat. Before I knew where I was, I was walking to the front of the church. I told the congregation how Jesus had revealed himself to me. My decision to follow Jesus seemed to encourage my husband to be an even better Muslim than before. But he did not divorce me. As God started changing me, our marriage got better and better. All this started to happen more than five years ago. After my conversion an extraordinary gratitude to the Lord overwhelmed me. I just wanted to serve Him with my whole being. The Lord gave me more visions. One of these was the challenge to start a shelter for abused and homeless mothers as well as abandoned babies. My husband picks up the story from here. The husband speaks When my wife came with the story that her Lord had spoken to her, and told her to go and look for a certain Maria near to Woolworths to come and help us, I really thought that she was going crazy. I was definitely not prepared to take her on a wild goose chase when she asserted that she had ‘heard’ of a Woolworths branch in Wynberg. But she was determined and took a taxi to get there. I was completely perplexed when she pitched up with her ‘Maria’, a vagrant who had been living on the street. But that was only the start of so many miracles. Matthew, a little boy who had been put in a refuse bag after birth, was one of these miracles. I was not yet fully convinced, but I saw how my wife was constantly changing for the better. Little by little her perseverance and courage broke my resistance. Only one area was my ‘holy of holies’, my garage. And in the home there were, of course, still the ‘rakams’, the picture of the Ka’ba and framed posters with Qur’an excerpts in Arabic. I was proud that I was so tolerant as to allow my wife to put up Bible posters, like the one of the broad and the narrow road. As I met other followers of Jesus who also had been Muslims, God had begun to speak to me. One Saturday afternoon I got the fright of my life. A Christian friend brought me home after I had done a few practical jobs at their home. In the car he explained to me why the Black stone of the Ka’ba was actually idolatrous. He also gave me a small New Testament. The first ‘surprise’ came just as I entered our home. A very special ‘rakam’, the picture of the Ka’ba, came crashing down from the wall - almost on my head. And then a few days later I was suddenly able to read the little New Testament. Although I had attended the School of Industry in Roeland Street when we were living in District Six, my ability to read had completely vanished by this time. I simply never read anything, not even a newspaper. To be able to read was to me no less than a miracle. But I was far from ready to become a Christian. Instead, I now attended mosque more regularly, trying to outdo my wife in terms of being pious. But as I saw how God used her she won hands down. When she prayed in Jesus’ name, for sick people who came to our home, they got healed. Before long, not only my garage but also our back yard was converted into space for accommodating abused women and little stranded children. A container from Holland gave more space, which opened the hearts of generous people to donate two more containers. Within a few years our humble abode became a fully-fledged Shelter. The Lord even opened a door for us to move to a double-storyed house - another miracle! I was still a Muslim, but I had little problem standing with my wife in this venture, especially when I saw how God performed one miracle after the other. Many times God provided food when we had nothing to eat or to feed to the mothers and babies. Although we had been registered with the government for a long time, we still were not receiving any finances from the Social Services. My resistance was finally broken down. At Christmas 2001 I committed my life to the Lord. Now we praise God as a family, giving Him the glory for taking us out of darkness and bringing us into His glorious light! Drugs and alcohol filled my life ‘If the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed’ (John 8: 36) Crime and drug addiction, scourges of Cape townships At the turn of the 21st century hardly a Cape Muslim family exists which has not been affected by the drug scourge in some way or other. Whereas addiction to alcohol grew alarmingly in the ‘Christian’ families in the new townships on the Cape Flats, the average Muslim home now had to cope with drugs. In the struggle against apartheid the police had a ‘gentleman’s agreement’ with the gangsters: they were given a free hand in their peddling in lieu of information about anti-government activists. There were also other causes of the spiralling of drug abuse. Unstable family life was one of the main ones. The death of a mother disrupts any family. Things like these do not stop at the door of certain homes, e.g. that of an Imam. When a father leaves his children in the lurch as a result of this, the hardship is not difficult to imagine. In the following account eight boys were left on their own. That they resorted to crime was almost a natural result. To then get sucked into drug abuse could have happened in any family. In other cases of deprivation peddling is also a good source of income, much more lucrative than legal employment. To get out of such a life-style is not easy at all. The following true story relates how someone was supernaturally set free from drug addiction. Drugs and alcohol had started filling my life. My home became a haven for drug abusers. I grew up in a staunch Muslim home. We lived in Bo-Kaap and Aspeling Street, District Six, before moving to Bridgetown on the Cape Flats. My father was an Imam and my mother a Hajji i.e. she had been on a pilgrimage to Mecca. My seven brothers and I were brought up with all the rituals and customs of Islam. When my mother got sick and later passed on, the wheels of our stable family came off. Our father could not handle the situation, sometimes simply staying away from home because there was no one to cook. Soon his periods of absence became longer and longer. With no income at home, very soon the electricity and water were cut off. We boys would simply live from ‘vrietangs’, wild fruit that grew on the meadow. This hard life welded us eight brothers into a close-knit family of children without parents. We discovered later that we could ‘earn’ some cash by allowing gangsters and other gamblers to use our premises in exchange for something into our ‘tickey box’. In my teenage years I took to the street where a life of vice started. I then discovered that it was just as easy to go and work on the ships, travelling the world. After a few years, during which I committed every crime in the book except murder, I decided to return to a more stable life. I got married, hoping that my happy childhood days would return. That was not to be because drugs and alcohol had started filling my life. I found employment, but very little, if any, of my salary reached my family at home. Instead, my home became a haven for drug abusers. All my ‘friends’ knew that they could come and smoke ‘buttons’ (mandrax) there without any harassment. My wife was apparently quite content because I was not roaming the streets or involved in other criminal activity. When I turned 45, I got tired of that life-style. I called on Allah, but I never had the impression that he ‘heard’ me. I cried to the ‘Lord’ whom I perceived to be different to Allah, although I could not really place Him. Soon hereafter something strange happened. I was smoking in our yard with my friends on Sunday 19 March 2000 when I heard a voice speaking to me: “I am here, my child!” Because I was not religious at all, I did not know what this meant. A second time the voice came to me, but I still did not link the voice to my desperate prayer. From my previous faith I was definitely not conditioned to think of God as a father or a mother. After about an hour a neighbour, a woman whom I knew well, came up to me. This lady used to drink alcohol with my wife before she became a ‘born-again’ Christian. Thereafter her life-style changed drastically. Before I could say anything, she said to me, “The Lord loves you!” I now immediately sensed a connection between this incident and my prayer of frustration over my miserable life. She continued to tell me that the Lord had instructed her to ask if her Christian fellowship could come and have a cottage meeting in our home on Tuesday evening. She went on to tell me that the Lord had instructed her to ask if her Christian fellowship could come and have a cottage meeting in our home on Tuesday evening. This was really strange because, apart from the fact that our family was known to be Muslim, our drug abuse was also well known in the area. Sick and tired of my life, I was willing to grab at any straw which could bring about change. I did not hesitate to say ‘yes’ to her, without thinking about the consequences. Yet, I was not at all sure whether I would be there on the Tuesday evening. In fact, I had no intention to attend the cottage meeting. A supernatural light On the agreed evening one of my friends came along with ‘good news!’ He had money...! Without any ado, we were on our way to the drug merchant. But just after we had left, I saw a Microbus coming towards our home. I saw a supernatural light hovering over the people in the vehicle. Becoming a little unsure, I told my friend he must go to the merchant without me. The same voice that had spoken to me told me once again, “Here am I, but it is still your choice. You must decide!” When my friend returned with the mandrax, he must have been very surprised that I refused to smoke with him. That was the first time ever that I refused to join in the addictive ‘fun’. God had already started to change my life. That I stayed at home to attend the cottage meeting was the next miracle. When an invitation was given at the evangelistic meeting to accept Jesus as one’s personal Saviour, it was the most natural thing for me to respond. A massive burden seemed to roll away when I committed my life to Jesus. Soon afterwards I was baptised and attended the fellowship that had helped me on my way to becoming a follower of the Lord Jesus. I have never smoked since then. That was more than three years ago. Seek first the kingdom of God Because of my life-style, I did not see payment of house rent as a financial priority. Thus the debt for this and the account for water accumulated out of control. A letter from the City Council which instructed us to vacate our house by the end of April 2000, brought me deep distress and made me think that I rather wanted to commit suicide. At this time I was lying in my bed when God stepped into my life supernaturally. ‘I’ was taken out of my body. Through the roof of the house I could see myself lying there on the bed. I was taken higher and higher. Then I was brought to a beautiful valley where people were worshipping. There was also a huddle around something like a throne on which someone was sitting. I could not see his face but a warm love radiated from this throne. Throughout this, the threatening letter from the Council was still very much on my mind. Sensing that the people were Christians, I called, “Brother, come and help me please!” A few of them were sent to me on a cloud. They listened to my story and went back to the throne. They returned with a message from the man on the throne, “Seek first the kingdom of God and everything else will be added to you”. I did not know until much later that this was a Bible verse. Thereafter my soul returned to my body. My brothers visit me Shortly after this a few of my brothers visited me. One of them had become a tablighi, a Muslim evangelist. Having heard that I had become a Christian, they came with the intention of taking me back into the Islamic fold. By this time compared to me, all of them had become relatively successful in material terms. Knowing what we had endured together, I really hoped that they would now help me out of my predicament. When I showed them the letter containing the threatening eviction, they were immediately ‘eager’ to help - on condition that I would return to Islam. Even though I was still very weak in my new faith, I instinctively knew that I could not compromise. They were equally determined only to help me if I returned to my former religion. I got special grace to refuse the blackmail offer. I had no other option but to turn to the Lord. The church fellowship helped me with some cash but this was only a fraction of the amount I owed the City Council. With feet that felt like lead I went to the Cape Town Civic Centre. As I looked down from the bridge going over Hertzog Boulevard, I felt again a strong urge to throw myself in front of the cars driving below. However, some extraordinary power overwhelmed me and enabled me to go to the Council office with the paltry sum. The Lord must have taken control because the gentleman not only accepted the meagre amount as part-payment of the debt, but he also suggested a monthly instalment that would normally have been quite affordable, that is if I had employment. The Lord Jesus proved himself so faithful. Over a long period He enabled me not only to find casual employment with which I could significantly start paying off the debt, but He also inspired believers to enable me to attend an evening Bible School. After three years I miraculously also got regular employment. I now have a deep yearning to serve God with all of my being, perhaps one day to serve some of those men who are addicted to drugs as I once also was. Yet, I know that I would only be able to do these things with the help of the Lord through the guidance of the Holy Spirit. That is why I try to keep a close personal relationship with God intact. I want to give Him all the honour and the glory for what he has accomplished in my life. Part 2 What Christians believe The people whose stories are written down in this booklet all call themselves Christians today. But we realize that this booklet may well end up being read by Muslims as well, and that some statements may even be slightly puzzling. Particularly for them we want to explain some of the central beliefs that Christians have and answer questions such as ‘Why is Jesus so important to Christians?’, ‘Do they believe in three Gods or one?’ and ‘How do they understand the destiny of humankind?’ 1. Who has God shown himself to be? First of all, God is the Creator and Sovereign Ruler of all that we see and experience, as well as of the unseen world. He is eternal and self-existent – all else depends on Him for its existence. And while He stands outside and over His creation, He is also deeply involved in the Universe that He has made. He is present in it any time, anywhere. This becomes apparent in different ways, since God is one who makes himself known. Most particularly, He lets His creatures know who He is through the Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments (the Torah, Zabur and Injil). Actual copies exist today of Old Testament books in the original Hebrew, from before the Christian era, and of the New Testament books in the original Greek from before AD 300 (i.e. several centuries before the Prophet Muhammad), and translations of the Bible are based directly on these. There are minor variations between different ancient copies but none of these are important, or change the doctrines of the faith in any way. There is no evidence of Jews or Christians deliberately altering these Scriptures or of any different Torah or Injil existing at or before the time when “God revealed the Torah and the Injil” (Qur’an 3:3). So what more do these Scriptures say about God’s character? The Scriptures present God as the Creator whose love exceeds all boundaries, as One who cares deeply for the people he has made, and with whom He wants to be in relationship. The Scriptures tell a story of a God who has broken into every age to reveal Himself, to show this love and mercy of His, and to meet up with humankind in their world. Prophets have always played a central role in this self-revelation of God. God used them to point out the sinfulness of people; their rebelliousness, selfishness and pride. Calling them away from evil, these Prophets challenged people to repent; to turn obediently to the God of mercy and compassion. 2. What about Jesus? Falling in the line of the great Prophets, Jesus was sent to reveal God’s will and nature to humankind. But Jesus claimed to be more than a prophet. He said, “Most assuredly I say to you, before Abraham was, I AM” (John 8:58). The people Jesus spoke to would have clearly understood what Jesus meant: By using the expression ‘I AM’, which was actually a name for God, he essentially called Himself, God. He also declared “You know neither Me nor My Father. If you had known Me, you would have known My Father also” (John 8:19), and, “I and the Father are one” (John 10:30). His disciples did not make up the divinity of Jesus. It was something they witnessed as they saw the godly power in Jesus’ life, for example as He commanded the storm to quieten (Matthew 8:23-27). But more importantly, divinity was what Jesus claimed for Himself. So how can we explain the relationship between Jesus and God? As quoted above, Jesus says He is one with ‘The Father’. When Jesus was baptized a voice came from heaven and said, “This is my beloved Son with whom I am well pleased” (Matthew 3:17). Again and again reference is made to father- and sonship. Understandably, many Muslims object to the claim that Jesus is the Son of God. Even within the history of Christianity questions have sometimes been asked regarding this. Some Christians in Muhammad’s day – like the the Collydirians- believed that for Jesus to be God the Son, He would in essence be a Deity separate from God the Father. So they became polytheists, believers in more than one god. There was also the Maryammiyya cult, which held to the belief that the creator had a wife called Venus or Al-Zarah; the ‘queen of heaven’ who had a son by procreation. Certain theologians argued fiercely that Jesus was ‘created, not begotten’. To stress that Jesus was of no different substance than God, the Nicene Creed (325 AD) insisted that he was ‘begotten, not created’. For many people this implied a physical relationship between the Deity and Mary. The end result was utter confusion. Rightly challenging such views, Muhammad emphasized that God is one and that God cannot procreate to have a walad, a literal son. John 3:16, a very ‘central’ verse of the New Testament, has been resented by Muslims because it was often translated as God’s ‘only begotten Son’. The intention of the Greek word monogenes in the original text is better reflected if Jesus is described as the unique or one and only Son of God, as it has been done in the NIV. The Qur’an generally objects to the notion that the merciful one could have offspring (Surah 19:35,92) and repeatedly states that God does not beget (Surah 2:116; 6:68; 19:35; 23:91). But significantly, the Qur’an does not object to Jesus being the ibn, the figurative Son of God. Now, when Jesus is called God’s Son, this is not a reference to his miraculous conception. It would be blasphemous to think of the glorious God somehow assuming a body and having physical relations with a human being (Mary). The term Son of God speaks of one who possesses his Father’s nature and is nearest to the Father’s heart. This, then, is what Christians believe about Jesus; that he was sent to earth to become a human being to show the way, to spread God’s love and to reconcile people with God. But he was more than a Prophet. He was, and is today as he has been for eternity, God the Son. 3. God – Three or one? That God is one is a most basic foundation of the Old and New Testament Scriptures. It is repeated several times and has always been the faith of Christians. Yet, so far, we have already mentioned God, the Father, secondly also the Son, and thirdly there is also the Holy Spirit (not mother Mary!). When the Holy Spirit of God descended on the waiting disciples after Jesus’ ascension in accordance with his promise, those early believers experienced that God was working unseen among men, not just as a power or influence, but personally. Hence, Christians speak of the three ‘persons’ of the one God. But ‘persons’ here is not taken in its ordinary meaning. The Divine ‘persons’ are linked in the unity of the Godhead more closely than any human persons could be, with each one being fully God. Great is the mystery of Godliness but no explanation of the Trinity is acceptable which does not affirm the unity of God. Nor, in the Christian faith, is any explanation of God acceptable which does not affirm that He is Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. This is the Christian God: Three ‘persons’ bound together into one inseparable unity of love, that he is one as much as he is three. In doctrinal matters, we have every reason to be compassionate and loving towards Muslims, because their forebears in the Middle East have been misled by the bickering Christians, our spiritual ancestors. 4. Humans – good or bad? Out of the love that exists within the Trinity flows creation, with humankind being its crown. But though people have been created with the purpose to love and serve God and each other, they seem to have struggled to live in obedience to God since the beginning. So is there something that is fundamentally wrong with us human beings? God is flawless. And as a result, that which he creates is essentially good as well, humankind included. Yet, as human beings, we experience at the same time that there is corruption within us. There is a tendency within us that draws us towards selfishness and wrongdoing. If we are honest, we have to admit that there is rebelliousness within each one of us - no one excluded. That is why it is stated in the Scriptures, “All have turned aside, (all men) have together become corrupt; there is no one who does good, not even one” (Psalm 14:3). Since Adam, people have sinned. And no sin has been committed without having an effect. Every sin that is committed corrupts the cosmos some more, making it more impossible for anyone to be unaffected by sinfulness, as it were. Not only does sinfulness cause misery and brokenness among humankind. More importantly it separates all of us from the Holy God of love, for he is also the Great Judge who condemns every act of rebellion that we commit. “Your iniquities have separated you from your God; your sins have hidden his face from you, so that he will not hear” (Isaiah 59:2). God’s judgement seems harsh, but no amount of good works or self-imposed sufferings can ever compensate for the sin of even a good person. God’s standard is complete holiness and perfection, and no ordinary person has ever lived up to it. Although God breathed goodness into us in creating us, humanity has one dilemma that permeates every sphere of life: Our hearts have become rotten to the core because of disobedience to the Holy God. This has caused a separation between God and people that is impossible to bridge by human effort. 5. Our destiny – damnation or life? Clearly, humankind has a problem. Though God is good, loving, merciful, and wants to be in relationship with us, people always fail to reach the standard of righteousness that He sets. But how, then, can we spend eternity in God’s presence, if God cannot stand the sight of sin, which we all carry? It may seem that we are automatically doomed! The key to solving our predicament lies with no one else than Jesus. It is in Him that the promise that God made to Abraham, to bless humanity, is ultimately fulfilled. Only the sacrifice of the perfect man, who was Himself God, could suffice to set people free and to blot out their sins. So great was his love that he let Himself be crucified, His blood flowing instead of ours. Purely out of mercy for us, He became the true Lamb that God provided to take away the sin of the world (compare John 1:29, 35). Although Jesus’ crucifixion came as somewhat of a surprise even to his disciples, He had prophesied his death well before the event. Old Testament Scriptures had also foretold Jesus’ sacrifice throughout the ages. The Prophet Isaiah had prophesied how He would be, “led like a lamb to the slaughter” and, “pierced for our transgressions, … crushed for our iniquities” (Isaiah 53). Long before that the blood of a perfect lamb applied to the doorposts at the exodus from Egypt was the divine provision to lead God’s people out of bondage. The firstborn were saved from death by the lamb slain in their stead. Jesus prophesied that he would be ‘lifted up’ just like Moses did with the serpent in the desert wanderings after they had left Egypt (John 3:14). On that occasion in the Sinai desert, those Israelites who looked up to the brass snake in obedience to the divine command were instantaneously healed. The message is clear in the context of John 3:16. The brass serpent served for the temporary healing of the Israelites who were bitten. Jesus was to be lifted up, in the crucifixion, so that all who believe in him might have eternal life. Still, could it really be that God, the Son, could die on a cross like a criminal? Well, it needs to be realized that Jesus’ death was ultimately not a display of weakness, but became the absolute demonstration of Godly power as he rose again from the dead on the third day. Also, from a historical point of view it is more than likely that Jesus was indeed crucified and then resurrected. Even the Jewish first century historian Josephus reports factually about the events. In addition, the New Testament reports can be regarded as some of the most reliable records of ancient history in existence, because of the huge number of accurate early manuscripts that have been found. All of this means one thing: By dying for humankind and taking away their sin, Jesus Christ re-established the relationship that God always wanted to have with the people he created. Now they can receive God’s free gift of forgiveness. They can receive new life, life that is spent for eternity in Jesus’ presence. The way to receive this new life is simply to believe in that which Jesus has done for us. That means to believe with the mind that Jesus died and rose again, but also to trust with the heart that He takes away all the sin we have committed. It means commitment to Him and His will. There need be no questions whether Jesus Christ really sets individuals free from sin, since He has already paid the cost for every single wrongdoing committed. Being a Christian, then, is all about having started a new life - a life lived in a relationship of love with the one God, who is Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Starting this new life does not mean that the ‘Search for Truth’ has ended. Rather, it is the beginning of a journey that leads to more understanding of who God is and what His will for life entails. Through meeting other Christians, through personal prayer and through the intelligent study of, and meditation on, the Bible (rather than mere repetition of its words), growth is continuously possible. One day in the future, Jesus will return to earth as He has promised. But even today it is possible for us to get to know him personally. Jesus sacrificed his very life for us just so that we could be with Him. Now it is our choice whether we will respond and accept the gift of new life with him. Part 3 Debt of the church in respect of Cape Islam Collectively the church has incurred a debt in respect of Islam at the Cape of Good Hope. By different means – oppression, neglect, convenience, discrimination, racial prejudice, indifference and biblical distortion in the twentieth century - Cape Christians have become ‘guilty’ from the early beginnings right into the present. 1. Colonialism and slavery The effect of colonialism was the direct cause of the establishment of Islam at the Cape. The double monopoly of trade and religion made the rule of the Dutch East India Company very repressive. Nobody else was allowed to compete in trade and no religion, other than the Dutch Reformed brand of Christianity, was permitted in Dutch territories. Shaykh Yusuf from Macassar in the Indonesian archipelago was sent to the Cape. He was held as a religious and political convict on the farm Zandvliet that belonged to Reverend Petrus Kalden.3 Shaykh Yusuf died in 1699, but his grave in Macassar was to become a shrine, a Kramat. This was the name given to the tombs of Muslim saints. This was the first of a number of shrines called Kramats on the heights of the Cape Peninsula. Shaykh Yusuf was the first of quite a few Muslim convicts who were sent to the Cape. Some of them were devout representatives of their religion at a time when they were not allowed to practise it freely. In the 17th and 18th centuries the Muslims were meeting secretively, at first, for example, in the Constantia Forest with meetings conducted by Muslim convicts, and later clandestinely held in houses. Often the meetings were led by freed political religious convicts like Tuan Said and Tuan Guru. There are kramats (shrines) of both Muslim leaders in the Tana Baru cemetery in Bo-Kaap. Tuan Guru (Mister Teacher) is the name that was given to one of the prominent Muslim leaders. He was brought to the Cape as a state prisoner in 1780 from Tidore, which was a flourishing Muslim Sultanate in the Moluccas. Tuan Guru had a thorough understanding of Islam, in contrast to other Muslim Capetonian slaves who hailed from Indonesia. One of his first accomplishments was the writing of the Qur’an from memory for the use of the Cape Muslims. Due to his work the first mosque was opened in 1794 in Upper Dorp Street in Bo-Kaap, the part of the town where the slaves were predominantly living. The history of slavery in the Cape is a very sad one. It is immaterial that Islam had a similar bad history in the Middle East or that the Qur’an seems to condone slavery to some extent. The bad treatment of slaves was a factor influencing the spread of Islam in the Cape. A law intended to protect baptised slaves was promulgated in 1770 in the Statutes of India but also applied in the Cape: The Christians are held bound to instruct their slaves... without compulsion in the Christian Religion, and have them baptised ... and such as may have been confirmed in the Christian Religion, shall never be sold... Many slave owners in the Cape interpreted this decree as a threat to their ‘property,’ believing that their slaves would become free if they were Christianised. As a direct result, the colonists hereafter encouraged their slaves covertly - but sometimes also actively - to become Muslims. In the church itself - only the Dutch Reformed Church was allowed to function in the Cape till 1780 - the slaves felt rejected. In a letter from the church council of the Dutch Reformed Church in Stellenbosch, the Kerkraad asked their superiors in the Netherlands whether slaves could be baptized, with the proviso that their freedom would not have to follow. The Dutch saying soon went around in slave circles: ‘De zwarte kerk is de slamse kerk’, implying that the mosque was the church of the slaves. By the end of the 18th century the pews at the back of the Groote Kerk - which had been reserved for slaves - were empty every Sunday. 2. Kramats (Shrines) The idea of Islamic Shrines originated from the Jews and Christians. The intention was to venerate certain ‘holy’ people who had passed away, but it was little more than ancestor worship. Biblical teaching is quite clear: Jewish and Christian believers are not permitted to pray to the dead. Prayer at shrines is a veiled form of ancestor worship. As early as 1740 the Muslims claimed that a circle of shrines around the Mother City would come into being. These shrines are graves of prominent Muslim leaders. Geographically stretching from Macassar all the way to Simonstown the Kramats can be seen as forming a crescent with the Kramat on Robben Island being the Star in the typical Muslim symbol. The influence of the religious practices at these shrines had the effect of keeping the city in spiritual bondage. Satanists also have their strongholds on the heights, amongst them the fittingly named Devil’s Peak as well as at the Rhodes Memorial 4 These shrines are all situated on the heights of the Cape Peninsula. This reminds us of the idolatrous worship at ‘high places’ like those that the Old Testament prophets condemned. The Islamic community is divided on the value of prayers at the kramats. With the increased awareness of spiritual warfare in Christian circles, the power of occult strongholds has also been increasingly recognised. It becomes evident with such an occult background reaching Muslims needs much prayer. 3. Church leaders unwittingly assist the forces of the arch-enemy It was surely commendable that Reverend Wrankmore called for an inquiry into the death of Imam Haron which occurred in police custody in September 1969. He used the spiritual weapons of prayer and fasting to intercede so that injustice would be exposed and ended. His church authorities probably feared getting too involved with the politics of the day. They refused him permission to fast and pray in St. George's Cathedral. The Muslims allowed him to use the big Kramat near Lion’s Head as a venue. One can debate whether his choice to pray in a Kramat was not counterproductive in terms of spiritual warfare. Nevertheless, the attitude of his church authorities is deplorable. Compare this with a similar effort when Dominee (Reverend) Dawie Pypers had his encounter with Ahmed Deedat on 13 August 1961 in a sports stadium, the Green Point Track. Instead of being supported, Reverend Pypers was attacked and criticised by leading members of his church. When the debate with Deedat took place, a booklet containing the testimony of a convert from Islam entitled, The story of a Malay as told by himself, was distributed at the stadium. This played into the hands of the arch-enemy. In hindsight we can say that this was a well-intended but unwise move, which caused much criticism thus sidelining the gospel presentation of Dawie Pypers. This unfortunately perpetuated the Islamic bondage of thousands in South Africa. Church leaders assisted the forces of the enemy in yet another way, by using a biblical principle incorrectly. The Bible calls for keeping and maintaining the bond of unity, but not at all costs. In the Unity Movement of the 1950s and especially in the United Democratic Front of the 1980s the spiritual dimension of the unity of the body of believers was disregarded. This happened when Church ministers together with leaders from other religions and communists appeared on the same platform generating the idea that the differences between the religions were unimportant. Thus the seed of New Age theology was sown locally, and the uniqueness of Christ was driven into the background. 4. The sad role of the government legislation and the Dutch Reformed Church After the Group Areas Act had been passed by parliament in 1950, many Coloured communities living around Cape Town were destroyed. In 1961 large areas of the city were declared ‘White’ group areas. This resulted in many Coloureds moving into District Six. Many who did not know anything about Islam now got to know Muslims, who somehow spread the erroneous message that we have the same God.5 A major uproar followed the declaration of 11 February 1966 that District Six was to become a White residential area as part of the implementation of the notorious Group Areas Act. Jews left District Six even before 1966. Christians were the next to leave in droves and allowed their churches to be bulldozed. The Muslims, however, stuck to their guns, not permitting anybody to raze their sacred buildings to the ground. Muslims remained longer, with the result that the population in District Six became more and more Islamic. This also happened in Walmer Estate. The opposition to the District Six declaration echoed until well into the 1980s. This prevented the government from carrying out their plans to demolish the Bo-Kaap, which was deceptively called the ‘Malay Quarter’. Apartheid legislation turned the suburb into a Muslim stronghold resulting in religious bondage as Christians and their churches moved out. The ideology of apartheid had strong support in the Dutch Reformed Church (DRC) through distorted exposition of the Bible. The enforcement of this wrong ideology enhanced the spread of Islam as it gave a religious backing to the government. When the former residents of District Six were finally evicted, it was like the starting signal for the spread of Islam throughout the Peninsula. With Muslims spreading all over the peninsula, Mosques were built in all the new townships. At the same time former so called ‘Christian areas’ like Surrey Estate, Bridgetown and Lansdowne became Islamised. The apartheid ideology favoured Islam in the city in three ways: a) Christians who got involved in evangelism skipped Muslim homes, because the ‘Malays’ were considered to have their own religion. b) The entire Bo-Kaap was declared a residential area for ‘Muslim Malays’ as early as 1952. The enforcement, however, only took place in the late 1960s and 1970s. By 1990 the area had become a Muslim stronghold that had no equal anywhere in the country. With a few exceptions, Churches moved out of Bo-Kaap, offering only feeble resistance. c) Jews left District Six even before 1966. Christians were the next to leave, allowing their churches to be bulldozed. The Muslims, however, stuck to their guns, not permitting anybody to raze their sacred buildings to the ground. In other parts of the Peninsula the enforcement of the Group Areas Act caused a lot of resentment and embitterment. An unknown number of nominal Christians embraced Islam in protest because the apartheid laws were perceived as the dealings of a ‘Christian’ government. A similar development can be discerned among the Blacks. Imam Haron, a Muslim clergyman, was incarcerated and died because of maltreatment while in police custody in 1969. It seems that his major ‘contravention of the law’ was his contact with the people of the Black townships Nyanga and Langa. No reason was given for his death. No inquest was held regarding his death in detention. The effort of Reverend Bernard Wrankmore as mentioned earlier was notable. In 1971 this Anglican priest fasted for many days at the shrine on Signal Hill to try and enforce a judicial inquiry. Even though it was of no avail in the short term, it did slow down the number of sinister deaths of political prisoners while in police custody. In terms of Islam, Imam Haron became a martyr for his religion and is to this day a motivating factor for many Muslims to follow his example and challenge other communities to embrace the religion of Islam. After the Black uprising in Soweto in 1976, the clampdown of the government had a significant backlash. After that event Islam made its first meaningful inroads into the Black communities. Whereas the previous government displayed a preference for laws implementing racial discrimination, the secular government that was elected into office in 1994 appears to have a tendency to remove all restraints on biblical morality. Because quite a few Muslims were involved in the struggle against the oppression in the apartheid years, Islam appeared to get preferential treatment. The new regime recognised Islam as having played an influential part in the resistance among the ‘formerly disadvantaged communities.’ Muslims exploited the favourable climate to the full by manoeuvring themselves into leading positions in the current Government. Today an extraordinary proportion of the parliamentarians are followers of the Islamic faith. This gives Islam a leading edge in today’s crucial developments. 5. Confession and Restitution? The church universal is in debt with regard to the origins of Islam. Khadijah, the first wife of Muhammad, the founder of the religion had a cousin named Waraqah. He is known to have been a Christian priest. He unfortunately failed to instruct Muhammad properly (or he himself was confused). Correctly, Waraqah warned Muhammad that the worship of the black stone of the Ka’ba was idolatrous. However, after the young man thought himself to be possessed - after his meeting with a supernatural being in a cave on Mt. Hira - it was Waraqah who misled Muhammad, suggesting that he was a prophet in the mould of Moses. False teaching of heretical Christians and the bickering of Christian theologians all contributed to give a foundation to a religion that was ultimately built on lies and deception. Would the church universal be ready to repent of its role in the establishment and spread of Islam globally? But what about us as South African Christians? Could we possibly give a lead in confession and repentance in this regard? The Cape Muslims have a special place in South African history. At this time, when restitution is being discussed in various quarters, their suffering at the hands of people who professed to be Christians, should be looked at. It is significant that so many apartheid laws and practices had their precedence in the attitudes and measures against the Cape Muslims of the colonial days. But the legislation and practices of our new South African government have also driven them further away from a living relationship to Jesus Christ. It is high time that we make amends. Measures that drove Muslims away from faith in Christ should be boldly confessed by as broad a representation of the church as possible. Are we willing and prepared to look anew at church traditions and practices which actually hinder Muslims from coming to Christ? If we are prepared to abandon those traditions and church practices that nullify the Word of God (Mark. 7:13), we might find many Muslims open to the Gospel of the crucified and risen Jesus. Costly restitution would be a genuine sign of remorse and repentance. One way to prove how serious we are in remorse is to get involved in a corporate unified way to tackle drug abuse, the scourge which has been plaguing Cape Islam, the Mother City and our country at large for so long already. Mere praying and fasting - without deeds and fruit of repentance - may only achieve getting divine powers lined up against us. As God once spoke through the prophet Isaiah (e.g. chapter 58), he still abhors empty gestures and/or activism without heartfelt compassion for the poor and needy. Our racist past with the resulting rift between the poor and the rich should be one of the sad heritages to be addressed. Genuine sharing of resources and imaginative programmes to ameliorate poverty - initiated from the ranks of the churches - would show that we are sincere in our desire to see others becoming followers of Jesus. That might usher in the revival many have been praying for. Glossary of some words used in (Cape) Islam and a few abbreviations C.E. Common Era, in former years referred to as A.D., meaning Anno Domini dawa Islamic missionary work duah a free (not a ritual) prayer in Islam doekom a Muslim witch-doctor gadat a religious meeting, usually in homes Hajji someone who has completed the pilgrimage to Mecca Imam a Muslim clergyman kramat Literally understood to refer to a Muslim saint. The shrines at the tombs of such saints at the Cape were later called kramats. Labarang Gadjji the big Muslim feast, more generally called (e)id-ul-adha, where the sacrifice of Abraham’s son is commemorated Madressah Muslim school to teach Islamic religion and memorisation of the Qur’an murtat a Muslim apostate musallah Islamic prayer mat or carpet nasara a Christian rakam posters and pictures on the walls of houses, often with Islamic images and Arabic script Rampie-sny’ an occasion for the ladies, when orange leaves are cut as part of the celebration of the birthday of the prophet. Ratiep a practice of Eastern origin, whereby knives pierce body parts without the spilling of blood Shaykh a learned clergymen, who studied in the Middle East The equivalent of Maulana, who studied in Pakistan or India. shebeens houses where wine can be bought at all times, i.e. also after hours Surah a chapter of the Qur’an, which is divided into verses called ayat tablighi a Muslim propagandist ulema the collective term for Islamic clergy