Rather than mock their misguided worship, Paul used their spiritual hunger as a bridge to share the gospel. “What you worship as unknown, this I proclaim to you,” he said. His words are as true now as they were in the first century.
By Dr. Tim Orr
Like the Athenians of Acts 17, many Muslims today are devout, committed to prayer, fasting, and worship. This comparison is not merely cultural but spiritual: both the Athenians and many Muslims exhibit sincere devotion while lacking a saving knowledge of the true God. Their longing for truth is real, and their sincerity is evident. But, as Paul observed when he saw the altar inscribed “To the Unknown God,” sincerity does not necessarily lead to saving knowledge of God (Acts 17:23, ESV). Rather than mock their misguided worship, Paul used their spiritual hunger as a bridge to share the gospel. “What you worship as unknown, this I proclaim to you,” he said. His words are as true now as they were in the first century.
Today, many Muslims worship a God they seek to honor but do not fully know. In Islam, Allah is exalted as utterly transcendent, wholly other—so far above creation that He remains unknowable in any personal sense (Qur’an 112:1–4). Though Muslims bow in prayer five times daily, their worship is directed toward a sovereign deity whose mercy is never guaranteed and whose nearness is never assumed. This leaves many feeling distant from God despite their religious devotion. One young Muslim woman I spoke with during an interfaith discussion described her prayers as "disciplined but empty," expressing a yearning to feel God's presence but believing He was too distant to hear her personally. They are taught they are merely servants, and their path to God is through submission, not relationship. And yet, deep within, many feel a longing for more—a yearning for intimacy that Islam cannot fully satisfy (Shumack, 2019).
The Qur’an acknowledges God as Creator, the All-Knowing and All-Powerful One (Qur’an 59:22–24). Yet it stops short of presenting God as Father. Islam explicitly rejects the idea of God having children or a familial relationship with humanity (Qur’an 6:101; 19:88–93). In contrast, the Bible presents a radically different picture. Scripture reveals a God who not only creates but also covenants—a God who longs for relationship. “I will be a Father to you, and you shall be sons and daughters to me,” declares the Lord (2 Corinthians 6:18, ESV). John marvels, “See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God” (1 John 3:1, ESV). And Paul reminds us that through the Spirit we cry, “Abba! Father!” (Galatians 4:6, ESV). This is not just a theological truth; it’s a relational reality.
So, when we engage with Muslims, we must do so as Paul did—with both clarity and compassion. Rather than launching into critiques of Islamic doctrine, we can start by recognizing their reverence and commitment. For example, you might say, "I admire how seriously you take prayer and fasting. Your devotion reminds me of how important it is to seek God with our whole hearts." This affirmation can build rapport and open the door for deeper spiritual conversations. Then, as Paul did in Athens, we can guide them toward the fuller revelation of God in Jesus Christ. One way to do this is by drawing out the contrast between how God is viewed in each faith: Islam teaches that God is distant and must be appeased, while Christianity teaches that God came near and longs to be known (John 1:14).
This distinction comes into sharpest focus in the person of Christ. In Jesus, we see the image of the invisible God (Colossians 1:15). His incarnation—God becoming flesh—is a powerful rebuttal to the idea that God cannot enter His creation. When speaking with Muslim friends, we might ask, “If God is truly all-powerful, is He not able to reveal Himself in a form we can understand?” If they express concern or disagreement, we can gently affirm their reverence for God's majesty and clarify that the incarnation is not a limitation of God's power but an expression of His love. We might continue, “Surely, an all-powerful God could choose to come near in a way we can grasp—if He so desired.” That question can open the door to sharing how Jesus is not just a prophet but the very self-revelation of God.
Another area of profound contrast is the assurance of salvation. In Islam, even the most devout are never certain they’ve done enough. The Qur’an teaches that salvation depends on whether one’s good deeds outweigh the bad (Qur’an 23:102–103). The result is often fear, not peace. By contrast, Christianity proclaims that salvation is not earned but given. “For by grace you have been saved through faith,” Paul writes, “and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God” (Ephesians 2:8–9, ESV). This is the gospel's beauty and scandal: God does for us what we could never do for ourselves.
For many Muslims, this idea is revolutionary. They’ve never been told that God can be known, loved, and trusted as a Father. They’ve never imagined that forgiveness could be certain. But when they hear that Jesus has already made the way—that the scales they worry about have been tipped forever by the cross—it’s as if a light goes on. Suddenly, the God they’ve always hoped for is not a distant sovereign, but a present Savior.
Of course, not everyone will respond with immediate faith. Some will mock, others will hesitate, just as they did in Athens (Acts 17:32). But some—like Dionysius and Damaris—will believe (Acts 17:34). Our job is not to manipulate the outcome but to faithfully proclaim what has been revealed. Paul’s model shows us that gospel proclamation requires both courage and kindness. He didn’t shy away from affirming that Jesus is the final and full revelation of God, but he also didn’t approach his audience with hostility. He reasoned with them, respected their search, and pointed them to Christ.
Let us follow Paul's example as we step into conversations with Muslims. Let us speak the truth boldly: Jesus is the image of the invisible God. And let us do so gracefully, remembering that a longing heart is often behind every question and objection. When we proclaim Christ—not just as a prophet, but as the Son of God who invites us to call Him Father—we speak directly to the deepest longings of the Muslim heart. The unknown God has been made known. His name is Jesus.
When Paul concluded his message at the Areopagus, he didn’t merely offer ideas to ponder—he issued a call to action. “God now commands all people everywhere to repent,” he declared, “because he has fixed a day on which he will judge the world in righteousness by a man whom he has appointed” (Acts 17:30–31, ESV). This urgency still applies. Our message is not optional advice—it’s life or death. Islam provides a moral framework but lacks the assurance of salvation, leaving sincere followers in a perpetual state of striving and uncertainty.
We are not called to proclaim a distant, unknowable deity. We are called to proclaim the living God who has revealed Himself in Jesus. Some will resist, some will reflect, and some will respond. For those who resist or reflect, our role is to remain patient and present, continuing the relationship with humility and grace. Sometimes, just being a consistent, loving presence over time will provide the space they need to reconsider their assumptions and revisit the claims of Christ. But our responsibility is to speak the truth in love, trusting that God is at work in searching hearts. Muslims are longing for a relationship they’ve never known, and we have the privilege of showing them that the God they seek has already drawn near. Let us proclaim Him, not with arrogance, but with the boldness of those who know what it means to be known by God.
Abdel Haleem, M. A. S. (Trans.). (2004). The Qur’an. Oxford University Press.
Durie, M. (2013). The third choice: Islam, dhimmitude and freedom. Deror Books.
Esposito, J. L. (2011). What everyone needs to know about Islam. Oxford University Press.
Holy Bible, English Standard Version. (2001). Crossway.
Sahih International. (n.d.). The Qur’an. https://quran.com
Shumack, R. (2019). Witnessing to Western Muslims: A worldview approach to sharing faith. InterVarsity Press.
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—and has published widely in peer-reviewed Islamic academic journals. Tim is also the author of four books. Media coverage at the time highlighted the agreements' economic scale and diplomatic novelty. Polling conducted by Pew Research Center in 2020 showed that most Republicans supported Trump's foreign policy approach, including his handling of the Middle East (Pew Research Center, 2020). But they also sidelined Israel, empowered dubious allies, and failed to address the ideological engine behind Islamist strategy. In the long run, that’s not a deal—it’s a disaster waiting to unfold.