It was a bad day for my Turkish friend when he accidentally dropped his cell phone in the toilet at the mosque. (Of course, it was an even worse day for his phone.) The public toilets here are usually just a hole. When something falls in, it is a straight plummet to the center of the earth, or at least some other abysmal place from which there is no escape. After my friend told me about losing his phone in the toilet, I called his number. It gave me a strange delight to know that, in a unique way, I was touching the very depths of our city’s sewage system. (How surprised I would have been had someone answered!)

The other day, I was standing in front of the mosque waiting for my phoneless friend to finish his time of prayer. While I waited, another man, Bulent, whom I have met on several occasions, began to talk to me very earnestly about hell. Bulent makes a living playing his oboe at circumcision parties. He is aggravated at me because I haven’t yet arranged for him to play at any circumcision parties in the States. I have tried to tell him things are a bit different in the States, but he doesn’t believe me.

His face a few inches from mine, his eyes bulging like a Pekinese playing high G on an oboe, Bulent told me solemnly, “You, my friend, must become a Muslim, or you will die like all other infidels. You will descend to hell.”

I wanted to tell him that my name and number had already traveled pretty close to hell on my friend’s phone, but I kept my mouth shut.
He told me that hell was awful, and that Islam was wonderful, and that there is still time for me to choose the glorious way of Mohamed. He stood on my toes and talked to me like that for about 10 minutes. I was quite glad when my phoneless friend finished his prayers and came out to rescue me.

In reflection, I am thankful for Bulent. He preached what he believes, and it was a good reminder to me of how annoying people of conviction really are. Of course, I am also a man of conviction. Yes, I annoy a lot of people, too.
Ultimately, though, annoying methods of evangelism serve only to ease the conscience of the annoyer. I remember once trumping up a survey to give to people. I was on my way to speak for a youth event and had a few hours layover. I thought, “I will make it appear as if I am doing some research and sneak in some witnessing in my spare time.” I’ll never forget when one woman asked me, “Is this a hoax? Are you really conducting a survey, or are you just here in this public place trying to get people to think about heaven and hell? You are a liar.” My heart felt like it had been flushed down the toilet.
My phoneless Muslim friend recently went on a business trip to the States. Upon returning, he said to me in all sincerity, shaking his head in reflection, “Barnabas, America needs more Seventh-day Adventists.”

He had my attention!

With concern written across his face, he continued, “Lots of alcohol, drugs and wasteful living in America. Terrible things of the faithless—shameful things. America needs more Seventh-day Adventists.”

He went on to tell me that he had performed an informal survey of his own. Throughout his six-month stay on the east coast, he had asked people everywhere he went if they knew any Seventh-day Adventists. To his disappointment, he had found only one lady who knew a Seventh-day Adventist.

Why would a Muslim man wish for our Christian church to flourish? I believe it is because righteousness enjoys righteous company. My Muslim friend isn’t Muslim in name only, he truly enjoys virtue. And I am not just a nominal Seventh-day Adventist. I truly appreciate the things of God. Water has no nationality, and holiness has no religion. Evil is the enemy of us all, and alliances should be drawn accordingly. This man has known my family, my parents and other Adventists for four years now. He knows we are allies—he and the Adventists—on the side of goodness. I yearn for him to know Jesus Christ, the source of all goodness. But until then, I am happy to be in league with him in appreciation of righteousness. He once surprised me by saying, “Your mission is my mission.” I have never told him I have a mission. But light always has a mission—the eradication of darkness.

Often, we Adventists divide things differently. We usually draw a line between two sides—truth and falsehood. Truth chases falsehood and tries to corner it, expose it, shame it and pin it to the floor. Assuming we know the truth, it is relatively easy to make a right judgment about whether someone else is following it or not. Of course, Jesus said, “Judge not that you be not judged.”

Another problem with this dichotomy is that truth must ultimately bow to holiness. Truth is not an end in itself, it is a vehicle toward godliness. Godly desires and holy love is truth lived out. Jesus made that clear in the parable of the Good Samaritan. The Levite certainly had more truth but less godliness. The Samaritan, on the other hand, had less truth and more godliness.

So let’s stretch our minds. For just a moment, mentally erase the lines that partition Catholic, Muslim, Hindu, Buddhist, and Secular beliefs. Instead, remap the world into two camps—lovers of righteousness and lovers of evil. Those who adore godliness, and those who don’t. Maybe that’s what Jesus meant when He said, “For the one who is not against us is for us” (Mark 9:40). Suddenly, those who are weak of knowledge but strong of good desire become bright lights. The precious souls in every culture who yearn to escape the corruption of this world are leagued together as allies.

I once got into a heated argument at a Presbyterian church with a Baptist girl about how Romans 2 should be interpreted. It was a hot discussion and definitely the last time I’ll ever tangle with a Baptist surrounded by Presbyterians! She was tossing people into hell wholesale, and I was trying to pull them back out. Among other Christians, how unique we Adventists are when we assert that people will be in heaven who never even knew the name of Jesus. What we are really saying is that people will escape the destruction of hell because they have identified strongly with goodness and have been drawn to it like iron filings to a magnet. The powerful goodness that draws them is none other than Jesus’ character shining through their spirit-awakened consciences. People in all cultures have felt it, tasted it and followed it, often not knowing it was Jesus all along. We can decry another’s false beliefs long and loud, but, for those who are inclined toward conviction, what really has convicting power is goodness. The Spirit is continually drawing men to adore Christ in this dark and dying world.

Notice how the Pharisees divided their world. “Jesus answered them, ‘Many good works I have shown you from My Father. For which of those works do you stone Me?’ The Jews answered Him, saying, ‘For a good work we do not stone You, but for blasphemy, and because You, being a man, make Yourself God.’” The Pharisees had a worldview that divided things up theologically, partitioning people into categories of truth and falsehood. Accordingly, Jesus was clearly on the side of falsehood. In answer to His question, they even admitted that, if they divided the world by goodness, He would fall on the side of righteousness.

Back to the oboe tooter. He kindly tossed me into hell based on my beliefs, which he took to be falsehoods. The gospel is clear that we are saved by our belief in God’s provision, not by our works. However, the list of texts that state we will be judged by our works is a long one. “For the Son of Man is about to come in the glory of His Father with His angels, and then He will reward each according to his works” (Matt. 16:27). (See also Romans 2:6, Job 34:11, Psalm 62:12, Matthew 25:34-46, 2 Corinthians 5:10, Revelation. 2:23, 22:12.)

Read these texts carefully or carelessly. Either way, you won’t see mention of people being judged by what they believe. No, they are judged by what they do. This is what led James to say, “faith without works is dead.” It’s because works really exist. Holiness, virtue, goodness—whatever we call it—truly exists as an expression of belief. Hard evidence is essential for judgment. Belief isn’t hard evidence.

So what about someone who earnestly believes falsehood but desires goodness? That’s the case for many in Islam, which is really old Pharisaic Judaism with a facelift. For a Muslim like that, life is a sincere frustration. It is the same frustration a certain Jew experienced and wrote about in Romans chapter seven. “For I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. For I have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out. . . . Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death?”

The answer is simple: “Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!” Yes, for a Christian, that’s good news that deserves a standing ovation, some jubilant flag waving and a loud chorus of praise. But what if a false belief system, like Islam, holds someone to the idea that Jesus is not ever to be called Lord? There can be no joy. Without Jesus, any desire for goodness seems irrelevant. “For there is no other name under heaven by which we must be saved.” That’s the big problem for Muslims. The faucet of the Water of Life isn’t flowing. The Way is barred. The Door is shut, and the Bread of Life is never served.

But gracious Jesus, the Light of Men, the one who forgave men while they spat on Him and yanked out portions of His beard, says, “But whoever does what is true comes to the light, so that it may be clearly seen that his works have been carried out in God” (John 3:21). What grace! Even as a man steeps in false notions, the gift of ancient grace works to drive a wedge between sinful man and his sin. Of course, many persist in rebellion. But for others, the gnawing thirst for goodness prevails. This unnatural turn of events—for a sinful man to hate sin—is the goodness of God. To the one who lets God’s good work have its way in him, his appreciation of goodness is accounted as righteousness, and his yielding to it as faith. Escape from the seemingly inescapable pit is accomplished! In the end, all praise goes to the Author and Finisher of the plan, and every knee will bow to Jesus.
By the way, if you need a good oboe player for a circumcision party, get in touch with me. I’ve got just the man for you. 

• Twitter