"I lost touch with Aatif and Liza. But their friendship left its mark on me. Since they became friends in my neighborhood, guests at my table, and part of my life, Muslim could never again be a faceless label for me. And my own Christian identity could no longer be a locked door that kept them at a distance.

"As a committed Christian, I have always struggled with locked doors — doors by which we on the inside lock out 'the others' — Jews, Muslims, Mormons, liberals, doubters, agnostics, gay folks, whomever. The more we insiders succeed in shutting others out, the more I tend to feel locked in, caged, trapped.

"So over the years, like many of my fellow Christians, I have increasingly found myself trapped between a strong Christian identity that is hostile toward outsiders and a weak Christian identity that is benign (or harmless) toward outsiders. The stronger my Christian identity grows, the stronger my opposition grows toward non-Christian religions, and the more hostile I appear to their faithful adherents. But if I try to reduce that hostility by weakening my Christian identity, I have less and less reason for staying Christian. Meanwhile, if my friends of other faiths have a strong religious identity, my suppressed Christian identity may pressure them to similarly inhibit their own, leaving both of us uncomfortable.

"Why can't there be a third option? Couldn't the kind of friendship I enjoyed with Aatif and Liza be — not unusual and exceptional, but normal and normative? Shouldn't it be possible to have a strong Christian identity that is strongly benevolent toward people of other faiths, accepting them not in spite of the religion they love, but with the religion they love? Could my love and respect for them as human beings lead me to a loving and respectful encounter with their religion as well?

"In order to explore that kind of identity, we'll have to deal with a host of questions. Why has the Christian faith been so irreconcilable to other faiths? Why is deep commitment to Christian faith so deeply linked with aversion to all other faiths? When Christians claim that Jesus is the only way, what do they mean, and does that mean that other religions must be opposed as frauds, mistakes, delusions, or distractions? Can one wholeheartedly love and trust Jesus as Lord and Savior without hating — or at least opposing — the Buddha, Mohammed, Lao Tzu, or Confucius? Must sincere commitment to the Bible make Christians antagonistic toward the Quran, the Baghavad Gita, the Analects of Confucius, the coyote myths of the Plains Indians, or the Tao Te Ching? Does sincere faith in the uniqueness and universality of Jesus Christ require one to see other faiths as false, dangerous, or even demonic?

"We'll address these questions in due time. But we can't answer them without seeking to understand what lies behind them, what they assume, and why these questions remain so provocative in many circles. I hope you'll find the journey from questions to answers to be as fascinating, rewarding, and enlightening as I have."