LEARNING TO SEE FAITH THROUGH ANOTHER'S EYES
BY MATTHEW HENNING
As a staff member of Cru, I have spent twenty years working on college campuses, meeting people from many faiths and cultures. Each unique faith tradition has similarities and differences to my own. Yet, Islam fascinated me the most.
The Quran and the Bible share similar stories, but we have different interpretations of them. We both claim monotheism, but disagree on the nature of God. We both believe Jesus existed in history, but see him as a totally different person. And yet, the lived expression of religion felt remarkably similar. Muslims I met were hospitable, deeply committed to their beliefs, and joyful in ordinary life. If anyone should have vibrant conversations, it should be Muslims and Christians. Still, when it came to meaningful faith conversations, neither side seemed willing to budge.
Eventually, I began to wonder whether I needed to be the first to change—not my convictions, but my mindset. Practically, this meant asking what I call position-shifting questions.
The first question is this: What assumptions do I hold simply because they feel obvious? What do I “know” that I have rarely, if ever, questioned?
For example, I once assumed that the greatest explorer in history was Marco Polo. I knew this because we literally have a swimming pool game named after him. As a kid, I would close my eyes and call out “Marco,” and listen for the person I was chasing to respond with “Polo” as I explored the pool looking for the person I was to “tag.” He was also the only explorer I could easily name. That familiarity felt like proof.
But familiarity isn’t proof. It’s simply just familiar. When it comes to faith questions, we do the same thing. Instead of assuming familiarity equals correctness, we should ask whether our confidence comes from careful study and reflection – or taking what’s familiar for granted. It is okay to ask others if there is something we are missing.
Most of us are unaware of the “other.” We grow up together in America and assume we understand one another, unaware that we live in microcultures with our own values, stories, and histories.
The second question is: What benefits do I gain by believing what I believe?
In my case, Marco Polo was from a Christian background, and I am a Christian. Seeing him as the greatest explorer subtly reinforced my cultural and religious identity. He became a hero in my world.
We might do this in faith conversations when we emphasize uncharitable arguments or stories that make our position feel stronger and safer. We fail to see how our words might sound to someone outside our community, and so Muslims may respond dismissively (or even defensively). Instead, we should slow down, listen carefully, and discuss fairly.
The final question is the hardest: How might others see this differently? What happens if I put on someone else’s lens and take their point of view seriously?
One of my Muslim neighbors knows far more about Islamic history than I ever did. She often tells me about influential Muslims who weren’t just athletes, musicians, or celebrities, but architects of civilization itself. Through her, I learned about Ibn Battuta, a fourteenth-century Muslim scholar who traveled roughly 75,000 miles across the world (on foot, horseback, and ship) nearly a century before Marco Polo. His travel record remained unmatched until the invention of steam engines in the eighteenth century.
Similarly, our Muslim neighbors approach faith conversations from their own historical and communal vantage point. Their beliefs are shaped by their trusted teachers, their sacred texts, and lived experience, just like ours. We may be tempted to dismiss those differences, but instead, we should ask better questions and genuinely try to understand what they see.
It’s highly unlikely you will broach the topic of world explorers when you hang out with Muslims. However, you will broach questions like “Who is Jesus?” or “How do we know what God is like?”
Most of us are unaware of the “other.” We grow up together in America and assume we understand one another, unaware that we live in microcultures with our own values, stories, and histories. We assume exposure equals understanding—but it often doesn’t.
Some of my favorite conversations end with, “What did you learn about Jesus that you didn’t know before?”
Position-shifting questions invite us to choose change willingly. Fear of change is normal, but it can also be healthy, good, and even godly. You don’t have to change overnight. But if you are willing to shift your perspective, even slightly, to find what is true, you will find yourself becoming wiser, stronger, and more faithful than you were before.
So what now? Who in your life would value your willingness to ask yourself these hard questions? Who might welcome a conversation like this and be willing to wrestle with the answers alongside you?
Some of my favorite conversations end with, “What did you learn about Jesus that you didn’t know before?” If you and your neighbor answer this question in any meaningful way, you know you’ve both done well in answering position-shifting questions.
Matthew Henning has been on staff with Cru for two decades. He currently serves as the Intercultural and Missiology Coordinator on the Theological Development team, where he supports theological and cultural formation for Cru staff across the United States. Matthew is a PhD candidate at Trinity Evangelical Divinity School, specializing in research on American Muslim youth.