Tom Doyle was a pastor. About twenty years ago he and his wife, JoAnn, felt a call to be missionaries to the Middle East. They are the founders of Uncharted Ministries (https://unchartedministries.com/). If you go to the website you will see that they have a burden to share the gospel with two groups of people that many feel are difficult to reach, the Jewish people and Muslims. Presenting Jesus to these groups can be especially challenging. The Doyles reach out to them wherever they can. Often this outreach takes place in countries that many western Christians would be afraid to go to. In Women Who Risk, the authors share the stories of women they have met in various countries in the Middle East. Tom has also written other books that deal with the experiences of believers in this part of the world (see pages xvii-xviii in Women Who Risk).

The book begins with a section called “An Unstoppable Force.” One topic addressed in its pages is Satan’s war on women; this has been going on since Genesis 3 (page xx). The authors go on to say that once women come to Jesus, they can become a force to be reckoned with. This is happening in the Muslim world, women are influencing others for Jesus (page xxii). The Doyles call women “the spiritual gatekeepers of their families” (page xix). The chapters that follow demonstrate their influence.

The main body of the book consists of seven chapters. In each chapter the reader is introduced to a Muslim woman somewhere in the Middle East. In some cases the reader will also meet those who helped them in their journey to Jesus. Due to security concerns the names of the Muslim women and some of the details of their stories story have been changed in order to protect them (page xix). When you read their stories you will understand why.

The accounts in this book are quite varied and have different outcomes. In chapter 1 a Muslim woman became a follower of Jesus after being set free from jinns, that is, demons (pages 1-4). She was tormented by them. This woman’s father was a sheikh and he trained imams, Muslim clerics (page 4). A Muslim coworker told her if she wanted help with her problem she should go to a church (page 3). She met a pastor and his wife, they prayed for her, and she was set free from the jinns and became a believer (pages 8-9). Her father died at about the same time and her new found faith earned her the wrath of her mother (pages 9-10, 18-19). However, through a divinely orchestrated series of events this young woman led her mother to the Lord (page 22). You need to read this story, it is truly amazing!

Not all of the stories have as happy an ending as the one I mentioned in the previous paragraph. In chapter 7 the reader will met a Muslim woman who became a believer after seeing Jesus in Mecca at the hajj, which is a major annual gathering for Muslims (pages 165-168). She shared her experience with a longtime friend and it started her friend’s journey toward Jesus. The Christian women encouraged her friend to pray to Jesus, this friend asked Jesus to appear to her in a dream that night, and He did (pages 171-174). The woman who was a believer took her friend to an underground church meeting (pages 176-179). As a result of her dream, the love of the people, and a Scripture passage that she read at the church meeting; her friend became a believer (pages 177-179). When the church met, outsiders were led to believe that the people were gathering to watch a soccer game (pages 175-176). The women enjoyed the meetings. In time the family of the woman who came to Christ first become suspicious that she had become a Christian (pages 183-184). One of her brothers followed her to a meeting of the underground church and joined her in the meeting (pages 184-185). Though the group did not pray or read the Bible while he was present he believed she had converted. The woman was pretty sure that her days were numbered. Because of this, she fled the country in order to escape becoming the victim of an honor killing. So she left her family behind. But she went on to minister to Muslims in another place in the world, the United States (page 191).

The book contains an epilogue which highlights some of the important lessons that can be gleaned from the book. These lessons are: Danger is Temporary, Pray for Miracles and Expect Them, and Prayer is for the Long Haul. The authors also offer some information for those who wish to be more involved in reaching Muslims.

There are some recurring themes in this book. You will find that prior to their conversions some of these women wanted to kill their husbands. When you read their stories you will understand why. They were humiliated. They were verbally and physically abused. Not all Muslims mistreat their wives (page xxi), but in this volume you will meet some who were ill-treated. You will also find the supernatural in this book. There are accounts of Jesus appearing, in dreams and in person, at least one case of divine healing, and there are stories of Jesus bringing food to people in times of need. One very important take away from this book is the resolve that the women have to be faithful to Jesus. They do this even though it is extremely dangerous to be a Christian in their countries. Their examples are truly inspiring. This book demonstrates clearly that God is moving powerfully today among Muslims.

Reviewed by John Lathrop

For a free chapter from Women Who Risk, complete the form available from the publisher: https://www.thomasnelson.com/p/women-who-risk/#freechapters

Editor Introduction: Postmodernism, The Church, and The Future

Can postmodernism tell us something about how the church is to function, how we tell the story of Jesus, and how the Spirit works in our lives?

Postmodernism, The Church, and The Future
A Pneuma Review discussion about how the church should respond to postmodernism

The wind (pneuma) blows where it wishes and you hear the sound of it, but cannot tell where it comes from and where it goes. So is everyone who is born of the Spirit (pneuma).
John 3: 8

Can Jacques Derrida, a Jewish philosopher who confesses that he “rightly passes for an atheist,” possibly make any meaningful contribution to the understanding of Christian proclamation in the postmodern context?¹ After all, is Derrida not the prophet of humanistic relativism or, worse, the Antichrist of textual meaninglessness? He most certainly approaches texts with the genuine suspicion that they are not always as objectively transparent as conservative readers may take them to be. He insists that a close reading of texts will always disclose places where they deconstruct themselves by calling into question their own assertions.² Furthermore, he contends that every attempt to interpret the meaning of a text results in yet another instance of hermeneutics, which is to say, that interpretation always begets more interpretation. Of course, the authorized keepers of orthodoxy, those who defend religious certainty and objective biblical knowledge, fear that if one never escapes hermeneutics, but endlessly struggles with multiple interpretations without ever discovering the stability of cold, hard facts, then theology succumbs to only relativism and intellectual chaos. Certainly such Derridean suspicion should find no place in Christianity, in a religion predicated upon Jesus’ Great Commission to go forth and proclaim the truth of divine salvation. Consequently, Derrida’s “atheistic” philosophy must represent all that is religiously reprehensible in postmodern culture and cannot but be the enemy of Christian faith and proclamation.

Jacques Derrida (1930-2004).
Image: Wikimedia Commons

Yet the depiction of Derrida specifically and of postmodernism generally as merely the most recent expressions of secular relativism and anti-religious pluralism might well be a misinformed caricature. I personally believe that to be the case. I disagree quite strongly with those who identify Derrida’s approach as destructive of Christian faith, hope, and love and as dismissive of the potentiality of language to communicate divine grace and theological knowledge. Indeed, nothing in his philosophy of language prescribes a rejection of God, truth, or meaning. As John Caputo, one of Derrida’s most careful and creative readers, states it, his postmodern perspectives display an “armed neutrality” toward personal faith and religious sensitivity.³ Derrida remains neutral with reference to the content of belief, neither affirming nor denying specific doctrines, while maintaining an armed diligence toward every human pretension to final and certain knowledge, toward the pretentiousness of becoming doctrinaire. That is to say, Derrida reminds us that we are finite creatures constantly seeking to comprehend existence from within the limited structures of that existence and, therefore, should constantly remain open to different interpretations and alternative experiences. Caputo goes so far as to label Derrida’s position as “religion without religion,” that is, as a genuinely religious position but not one reduced to a particular organized religion.⁴ It might well surprise his detractors when they discover that Derrida himself writes about a personal religion of which no one truly knows.⁵ He calls himself a person of prayer,⁶ argues for the necessity of faith,⁷ writes beautiful essays on forgiveness,⁸ speaks of the possibility of divine grace,⁹ and establishes much of his critical philosophy on close and respectful readings of both the Hebrew and Christian Scriptures.¹⁰

Proclaiming and Naming an Unnamable God

In many of his major works, Derrida carefully examines various biblical passages ranging from Genesis 22 (the sacrifice of Isaac) to Revelation 22 (the significance of Jesus’ second coming) and contends that one encounters a constant struggle in the Bible with the limitations of words and the impossibility of ever exhaustively explaining who God is and how God works in reality.¹¹ The variety of biblical texts indicate for Derrida that theology, that is, words (logos) about God (theos) that seek to define God in appropriate ways, can never confine God within the restrictions of human concepts or rational principles. His position closely tracks that of Paul Ricoeur who notes that Scripture names God in multiple ways.¹² For example, consider God’s own revelation of the divine name to Moses in Ex. 3:14. God responds to Moses’ request for the divine name by calling himself “Yahweh,” which means “I am that I am.” But this “name” is not a noun but a verb; it is a name that is no name, a “name” that leaves God nameless, as beyond the signifying power of any one sign. If this is the covenant name for God, the personal or proper name for God, then God’s name, Yahweh, means “the one who cannot be named.” One must confess, therefore, that every profession of God inherently speaks about God as the Unspeakable One and seeks to name God as the Un­namable One.¹³