A Conversation with Victor

His name is Victor. He is of Iranian descent and a Muslim by heritage. He and his wife have been in the U.S. for 11 years.

I have known Victor for most of the time he has been in this country; he is the pest-control man for a friend’s townhome I manage. (Hey, the extra cash comes in handy!) Over the years we have had several interesting discussions pertaining to our faith backgrounds. But this past Tuesday’s conversation evidenced to me that God is working in Victor’s life.

If you’ve read Engage!, you’ll notice there is not one chapter dedicated to sharing one’s faith with those of Islamic background. In part, that is because the answer to at least the first question I ask people (“Is there a God?”) is pretty obvious. All of Muslim background would affirm, without question, there is a God—Allah (and, Mohammed, of course, being his prophet). But, perhaps the greater reason is that I have not had extensive exposure to those of Islamic background; henceforth, I chose not to offer advice in how to share Christ with them.

But, now, let me continue with my story.

Through the years, Victor and I have become good friends. Betsy (my wife) and I have even had the opportunity to enjoy dinner at their home; they, too, have been to ours (once for a 4th of July celebration & the other to attend a Memorial Day barbeque at the really nice home of one of our friends). Frankly, I don’t think we’ve done as much as we should have, but such seems to be the reality of the busy world in which we live. Yet, both Victor and his wife seem to know we are genuinely interested in their well being and there have been at least a couple of occasions where Betsy and I have been able to extend our help in times of need.

Tuesday was just another indication to me how God works with us in the process of communicating our faith to others. Feeling that I had “slacked off” a bit in sharing my faith (Don’t ever feel you are the only one who thinks this!), God was gracious to allow me the opportunity to walk one more step with Victor in his spiritual pilgrimage.

As usual, I planned to meet Victor at my friend’s townhome. Normally, our conversations span the time it takes him to complete his job. (He is, without question, the most meticulous, professionally-appearing, shirt-starched and implements attached, pest elimination guy I have ever met!).

Tuesday, however, was different.

On Tuesday our conversation began immediately—almost the moment the front door was shut. Our conversation initially focused on his 4-year old son and his concern over what school he should attend. It was not long, however, before the conversation switched to his own life.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Mr. Carmen (that’s how he always refers to me). “I feel . . .[he paused searching for the right word]. . .depressed.”

“How is that, Victor?” I queried.

Victor continued: “Do you remember when I went to visit my father three years ago. . .when he was very sick?”

“Yes,” I replied, “but I can’t believe that has been three years ago.”

“Well, I have these feelings of guilt—I don’t think I did enough for him. Mr. Carmen, I wanted to help him, but it was like culture shock! I hadn’t been back to my country for 11 years and things seemed so different.” The depth of Victor’s sadness grew all the more evident as he conveyed to me how he had been given the sole responsibility—even though there were other siblings—to secure the best medical care and hospital for his father. It also became evident that Victor had at least attempted to fulfill his responsibility and was even accepting the full weight of responsibility for the lack thereof evidenced by his brother and sister.

Victor was living with a terrible burden—the burden of questioning whether or not his father had forgiven him. With this realization I was reminded of an important reality: regardless of one’s cultural or religious background, that individual has been similarly constructed by the God of the universe. The questions we ask are often the questions he or she will ask. The deep longings of the heart and soul are common ground among the members of the human race.

And it was at that point I decided to apply the Gospel.

“Victor, you know I cannot answer your question from an Islamic perspective, but I can tell you what the Bible says.” I asked God to grant me wisdom as I proceeded. “You see, though the Bible describes God as Judge, it also tells us that God is a God of mercy and forgiveness.”

“But, Mr. Carmen, if God is a God of forgiveness, why don’t I feel forgiven?” Victor asked as he cupped his hand and held it toward his heart.

“You see, Victor,” I continued, “that is why Jesus said He came. He came as God’s means of forgiveness. It is as though you and I were here [pointing to my left fist] and God was here [my right hand]. In between God and us is a barrier of sin [I took an envelope which I had been holding earlier and placed it over my left fist]. Something had to remove that barrier before we could have contact and communication with God—before we could experience the forgiveness God desired to extend us.”

Victor was listening intently. “You know, Mr. Carmen, I am not a religious man. I see good in Musa [Moses], Jesus, even Buddha.”

Not wanting to get “off track,” I proceeded carefully. “Well, Victor, I think that all truth is God’s truth. Therefore, many religious leaders can say good things, even true things. But the important question is, ‘How can I get forgiveness?’ And that’s what the Bible tells us Jesus did—He died to take the penalty we deserved to pay so that you and I might have forgiveness.”

“I need this, Mr. Carmen. I need to know if Jesus can do this.” Victor’s sincerity was compelling.

“Victor, do you remember that book I gave you [it had probably been 2 or 3 years earlier] about Jesus’s life—the one in your language?” I questioned.

“Yes, I believe my wife has it still,” came his response.

“Here’s what I would like for you to do. Each night, read one chapter in that book and pray this simple prayer: ‘God, if Jesus is your Son, and if He really died so that I might be forgiven, please let me know it to be true.’” I awaited Victor’s reply.

“I will do that, Mr. Carmen.” Victor’s reply came immediately indicating his sincerity; it was so evident God’s Spirit was at work!

As we parted, I asked Victor if it would be alright if, during the next month, I stayed in touch with him. Of course, he agreed. That reminds me…I need to go give him a call right now.