

Editor’s Note: This blog introduces one of the core arguments from my forthcoming book, Grace and Truth: Paul, the Gospel, and the Challenge of Islam, scheduled for release sometime this year. The book invites readers into a thoughtful and biblically grounded conversation on how Paul’s gospel addresses the profound questions raised by Islam. Rather than engaging in polemics, it offers clarity, compassion, and confidence for those seeking to share the gospel. Through a blend of real-life stories and theological reflection, it reveals the beauty of grace and the transformative power of Christ. Grace and Truth is written for anyone longing to engage with Muslims in a way that faithfully combines truth and love.
What does it really mean to be human? That question is not just for philosophers or scientists, it is something all of us wrestle with. We sense that our lives carry a weight beyond biology or emotion. Deep down, we are asking spiritual questions: Who am I in the eyes of God? What is wrong with me, and the world? And is there any real hope for healing? Different faiths offer varying perspectives, and these perspectives shape everything from how we pray to how we treat one another.
In this blog, I want to walk with you through a comparison that I believe gets to the heart of those questions: how Islam and Christianity understand what it means to be human. Islam says we are spiritually forgetful. Paul says we are spiritually dead. That contrast may seem technical, but it makes all the difference.
In Islam, every person is born with a kind of built-in orientation toward God. It is called fitrah. The Qur’an says, “Set your face toward the religion, inclining to truth, the fitrah of Allah upon which He has created [all] people” (Qur’an 30:30, Sahih International). The Prophet Muhammad reinforced this idea, teaching that all children are born in a natural state of purity, and it is only through outside influences, such as parents, culture, and society, that we stray (Sahih Muslim, Book 33, Hadith 6426). Sin, then, is not open rebellion. It is more like spiritual forgetfulness. And the way back is not through radical transformation, but through remembrance, through practices like prayer, reflection, and submission to God’s law.
Muslim scholars build on this theme in various ways. Thinkers like Hamza Tzortzis and Tariq Ramadan talk about fitrah as an intuitive moral compass, an inner pull toward justice and truth. These perspectives are significant in our world today, representing a divine memory that we carry within a more philosophical or revivalist stream in Islamic thought, rather than traditional Sunni orthodoxy. Clarifying this distinction helps us understand that while such views are influential, they are not necessarily representative of classical jurisprudential consensus across all schools of Islamic theology.
Meanwhile, Sufi scholars like Murata and Chittick describe fitrah as something almost poetic, a forgotten divine memory we carry inside us. Their view is more mystical but still grounded in core Islamic theology. Even Ibn Taymiyyah, who leans more traditional and legalistic, agreed that we are born with a natural orientation toward God, a view he articulates in works like Darʾ Taʿāruḍ al-ʿAql wa-al-Naql, where he emphasizes that human beings possess an innate disposition (fitrah) toward recognizing and submitting to their Creator (Ibn Taymiyyah, 2000). Revelation, then, is not a disruption, it is a reminder. Islam tells us we are not broken at the core, we are just out of tune, and we need help remembering the melody.
Christianity, especially in Paul’s writings, starts from a much more sobering place. It is not that we have merely forgotten who we are. It is that we have lost the very life we were meant to have. Paul writes bluntly: “You were dead in the trespasses and sins in which you once walked” (Ephesians 2:1, ESV). That is not poetic language, it is diagnostic. In Romans 1 through 3, Paul lays out the human condition in detail. Whether you are a pagan Gentile worshiping idols or a religious Jew failing to keep the Law, the result is the same: no one is righteous, not even one (Romans 3:10).
In theological terms, this is called “total depravity.” As Augustine and later Calvin articulated, it does not mean we are all as bad as we could be, but that sin has touched every part of us, our minds, our desires, our decisions. We are not simply lost, we are in bondage. We do not need a reminder, we need a resurrection. That is the kind of transformation Paul is talking about.
While Islamic theology sees divine mercy as something God can extend through guidance, Paul insists that sin is so serious it demands justice, and that justice was satisfied through Christ’s sacrificial death: “God put forward [Christ] as a propitiation by his blood” (Romans 3:25, ESV). This is why grace is not just a comforting message in Christianity. It is a miracle. It does not tweak behavior or realign our focus, it breathes life into spiritual corpses.
Tim Keller puts it like this: “Jesus did not come to make bad people good, but to make dead people alive” (Keller, 2008, p. 15). That is why Paul does not talk about polishing the old self, he talks about burying it. “We were buried with him by baptism into death, so that we too might walk in newness of life” (Romans 6:4, ESV). The gospel is not therapy, it is resurrection.
That reality also reshapes Christian mission. If people are spiritually dead, then no clever argument or cultural strategy can save them. Only God’s Spirit can bring new life. That is why Paul says, “I am not ashamed of the gospel, for it is the power of God for salvation” (Romans 1:16). Evangelism is not a conquest, it is a confession. We are not spiritual experts handing out advice, we are witnesses to the resurrection power that changed our own lives. Paul knew this firsthand, and he never forgot it: “Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am the worst” (1 Timothy 1:15, NIV).
As Michael Gorman writes in Cruciformity (2001), Paul’s gospel is not just something we believe, it is something we live. It redefines our identity. “It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me” (Galatians 2:20, ESV). This is why Christians do not talk about recovering their original purity. They talk about becoming a new creation: “If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation” (2 Corinthians 5:17, ESV). Salvation is not recovery, it is recreation.
Here is where the contrast between Christianity and Islam becomes crystal clear. Islam says the answer is already inside you, you need help finding it again. Christianity asserts that the problem lies within you, and only Christ can give you a new heart. Islam presumes our nature is recoverable. Paul proclaims it must be replaced. In one, we remember. On the other hand, we rise.
These are not just academic distinctions. They shape how we view human worth, divine grace, and the kind of hope that can truly change a life. Ultimately, Christian mission is not about helping people get back on track. It is about proclaiming that God, in Christ, has done something no one else could. “But God, being rich in mercy, made us alive together with Christ” (Ephesians 2:4–5, ESV). That is not a metaphor. That is the heart of the gospel. The tomb is empty. Christ is risen. And in Him, the dead rise too.
References
Gorman, M. J. (2001). Cruciformity: Paul’s narrative spirituality of the cross. Eerdmans.
Ibn Taymiyyah. (2000). Darʾ taʿāruḍ al-ʿaql wa-al-naql [The conflict of reason and revelation]. Riyadh, Saudi Ministry of Islamic Affairs.
Keller, T. (2008). The reason for God: Belief in an age of skepticism. Dutton.
Murata, S., & Chittick, W. C. (1994). The vision of Islam. Paragon House.
Qur’an 30:30, Sahih International Translation.
Sahih Muslim, Book 33, Hadith 6426.
Ramadan, T. (2004). Western Muslims and the future of Islam. Oxford University Press.
Tzortzis, H. A. (2016). The divine reality: God, Islam and the mirage of atheism. FB Publishing.
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.
Portions of this paper were drafted and/or edited with the assistance of AI language models (e.g., ChatGPT). The author reviewed and revised all content for accuracy, clarity, and academic integrity.