The question surfaced quietly over tea in a dimly lit café. “What if God does not forgive me?” Ahmed’s voice was soft, but the weight of his question hung in the air. He was not angry or doubtful. He was reverent. As a Christian who values friendship with my Muslim neighbors, I have come to recognize this moment as sacred. It is not simply a theological question. It is the kind of soul-level ache that defies quick answers. Beneath the differences between our faiths lies a shared longing, a cry of the heart that asks, can mercy and justice truly meet? For Christians, the answer is found in the cross. But before offering that answer, we must first understand the question, and the reverence from which it comes.

Shared Reverence and Longing

Muslims believe in a God who is both supremely majestic and deeply near. The Qur’an declares, “There is nothing like unto Him” (Qur’an 42:11), a clear affirmation of God’s transcendence and holiness. But it also reveals that He is “closer to man than his jugular vein” (Qur’an 50:16), offering a picture of divine nearness that is intimate and personal. This creates a powerful dynamic in Islamic worship. God is not only the Exalted One, but also the One who knows us completely. As a Christian, I deeply respect this portrayal of God. We too affirm that God is righteous, glorious, and above all creation. Yet we believe that His nearness reached its fullness in the incarnation, when Jesus, the Word, became flesh and dwelled among us (John 1:14, New International Version, 2011). This belief shapes how we understand divine love, not as something that stays distant, but something that enters human history.

Over years of dialogue, I have noticed something in Muslim friends that has never left me—a quiet, persistent longing for forgiveness that does not compromise God’s holiness. This longing rarely surfaces in casual conversations. It comes to light during Ramadan, in late-night prayers, or in moments of silence. What strikes me is the depth of reverence. The question is not whether God is merciful. The question is whether one can ever know if they stand in the path of that mercy. The Qur’an calls God both the Just and the Merciful (Qur’an 2:284; 7:8–9), and many Muslims live in humble pursuit of that mercy. But since there is no fixed act of atonement in Islam, forgiveness always feels like a hope, not a settled reality (Nasr, 2002). This form of spirituality is not weak. It is profoundly serious, and it reflects a heart that takes sin and justice seriously.

One of the most emotionally powerful expressions of this uncertainty comes from a hadith in which the Prophet Muhammad reportedly said, “Though I am the Messenger of Allah, I do not know what Allah will do to me” (al-Bukhari, 1997, 76:474). Muslim scholars explain that this was a statement of humility, not doubt. It demonstrates trust in God’s sovereign will. Still, many Muslims I have spoken with find this statement weighty. If the most honored prophet does not presume on God’s mercy, how can anyone else? This is not despair. It is reverence. It is a spiritual posture shaped not by casual belief but by awe. In that sense, it shares something with the Christian understanding that sin is not a minor offense, but a cosmic rebellion against a holy God.

Islamic teaching provides many avenues for seeking forgiveness, including sincere repentance, prayer, acts of charity, and righteous living. The Qur’an offers beautiful promises, such as, “Indeed, Allah forgives all sins for those who return to Him” (Qur’an 39:53). Yet forgiveness in Islam is ultimately rooted in God’s will, not a completed act in history. In Christianity, by contrast, forgiveness flows from the cross—a moment where justice and mercy were fulfilled without contradiction (Romans 3:26, New International Version, 2011). At the cross, Christians believe, sin was not ignored, it was judged. But mercy was not sidelined, it was poured out. Forgiveness is not just something we ask for. It is something we receive, not because of who we are, but because of what Christ has done.

The Cross and the Challenge of Divine Nearness

For many Muslims, the Christian claim that Jesus is divine or that God became flesh feels deeply unsettling. It seems to challenge the very holiness they seek to protect. The Qur’an warns against associating partners with God (Qur’an 4:48), and Islamic theology emphasizes that God is beyond all comparison, beyond all likeness (Izutsu, 2002). From this perspective, the incarnation is not a mystery to be contemplated, but a line that should not be crossed. Christians, however, understand the incarnation not as a denial of God’s transcendence, but as its most profound expression. God came not to diminish His holiness, but to display it through sacrificial love. These are not merely theological positions. They are acts of devotion, born from two different understandings of how to honor the one true God.

Surprisingly, the idea of substitution is not entirely absent from the Qur’an. In the story of Abraham, God spares his son and provides “a great sacrifice” instead (Qur’an 37:107). Muslims typically interpret this as a stand-alone act of divine mercy, not a foreshadowing. But for Christians, this moment parallels the sacrifice of Christ, the Lamb who takes away the sin of the world. Still, this parallel should not be used to argue, but to invite. As Accad (2011) suggests, gospel conversations flourish not through pressure, but through dignifying questions. I once heard a Christian ask, “If God provided a ransom for Abraham’s son, could He not provide one for all humanity?” It was not a challenge. It was an invitation to reflect on a God whose mercy goes even further than we imagine.

Some Christians assume that Muslims reject the gospel because they are hardened in rebellion, but the reality is more complex. Their reverent hesitation often reveals a deep, albeit incomplete, recognition of God’s holiness. It is not that they take God lightly—they take Him seriously, yet apart from the regenerating work of the Spirit, their understanding remains veiled. Scripture teaches that the natural mind cannot grasp the things of God without divine illumination, and this applies to all people, not only Muslims (1 Corinthians 2:14, New International Version, 2011). Their reverence may reflect an awakened conscience, but it cannot lead to saving knowledge apart from God's sovereign grace. The gospel is not something we wield to convince, but something we proclaim with the confidence that God alone opens hearts and grants repentance. We bring it to the base of that wall of reverence, trusting that the Spirit alone can tear down what human effort cannot. From our view, the cross is not where God’s holiness is lessened, but where it is displayed in blazing clarity—justice fully satisfied, mercy fully poured out, all to the praise of His glorious grace.

Invitation at the Crossroads

I often return in my memory to that café with Ahmed. His question still echoes in my heart: “What if God does not forgive me?” It was not a cry of doubt, but of devotion. In that moment, I did not offer a theological formula. I simply pointed to the cross. To the God who did not stay distant, but stepped into our ache. To the justice that was satisfied, and the mercy that flowed freely. For Christians, this is not abstract doctrine. It is the story that changes everything. So when I sit across from a Muslim friend, I do not try to win an argument. I try to share that peace, that hope, that gospel—not through debate, but through sacred friendship, one conversation at a time.

References

Accad, M. (2011). Toward a post-foundationalist missiology. Evangelical Interfaith Dialogue, 1(2), 1–4.

al-Bukhari, M. I. (1997). Sahih al-Bukhari (Vol. 8, Book 76, Hadith 474). Dar-us-Salam.

Craig, W. L. (2018). Atonement and the death of Christ: An exegetical and theological study. Baylor University Press.

Griffel, F. (2009). Al-Ghazali’s philosophical theology. Oxford University Press.

Holy Bible, New International Version. (2011). Zondervan.

Izutsu, T. (2002). God and man in the Koran: Semantics of the Koranic Weltanschauung. Keagan Paul.

Nasr, S. H. (2002). The heart of Islam: Enduring values for humanity. HarperOne.

Power, T. (2016). Understanding Jesus and Muhammad: What the ancient texts say about them. Acorn Press.

Tennent, T. C. (2007). Theology in the context of world Christianity: How the global church is influencing the way we think about and discuss theology. Zondervan.

Who is Dr. Tim Orr?

Tim serves full-time with Crescent Project as the assistant director of the internship program and area coordinator, where he is also deeply involved in outreach across the UK. A scholar of Islam, Evangelical minister, conference speaker, and interfaith consultant, Tim brings over 30 years of experience in cross-cultural ministry. He holds six academic degrees, including a Doctor of Ministry from Liberty University and a Master’s in Islamic Studies from the Islamic College in London.

In addition to his ministry work, Tim is a research associate with the Congregations and Polarization Project at the Center for the Study of Religion and American Culture at Indiana University Indianapolis. His research interests include Islamic antisemitism, American Evangelicalism, and Islamic feminism. He has spoken at leading universities and mosques throughout the UK, including Oxford University, Imperial College London, and the University of Tehran. He has published in peer-reviewed Islamic academic journals. Tim is also the author of four books.

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