With Christian Love for Nabeel Qureshi: A Letter

On September 16, 2017, Nabeel Qureshi went to be with his Lord and Savior after a year long battle with Stage IV stomach cancer. As believers we do not grieve as those who have no hope (1 Thes. 4:13-18), yet still we grieve. We do not grieve for him because he is now in heavenly perfection without pain and without cancer. But we do grieve for his family and all those who have grown to love him whether personally or through his ministry. One of the ways that I cope with grief is to write letters to the deceased. I am fully aware that the dead do not read letters, but it is my way of processing the situation. I wrote a letter to Nabeel and I wanted to share it with all of you. I hope it gives you comfort as it did me and I urge you to join me in the commitment I make at the end.

Nabeel, 

We first met the summer of 2013. I had heard you speak with my dad before that. My father and I were both very active in the local apologetics events and had enjoyed and learned from your talks at least a couple times already. We had been able to see that your heart was not for making arguments, but for seeing those you love - and “those you love” meaning “everyone you meet” - come to know Jesus Christ as their Savior. I already knew this before I first met you. That summer I had the joy of interning with RZIM. One of the highlights of the summer was traveling with many of the itinerant speakers, including you. I got to see your personality, your sense of humor, and especially your love for God and people.

After that trip I had some questions that I felt you in particular would be good at answering. I asked if we could talk over lunch. You joyfully agreed and our conversation was mainly about the doctrine of the trinity. That conversation and No God But One have played a huge role in shaping my theology about the trinity. When people ask me about the trinity, my answers are primarily based on things I learned from you, Nabeel. So, thank you. Before we sat down for lunch I had made up my mind to pay for lunch as a thank you for meeting me. I knew you were a gentleman and would likely not want me to pay for your meal. I talked to the lady behind the counter who gracefully put both our meals on one tab. You were very confused by this act, but I like to think you understood my gratitude behind it. 

Following that summer I got busy with many things college related and then a couple years later got married and moved to Dallas for seminary. One of the side effects of this was I was not able to attend the many apologetics events that I used to attend with my dad. My dad, as you know, continued to attend them. I knew that when my dad would go shake your hand after you talked that he would say “Hi, I’m Leah’s dad!” What I didn’t know until recently is that after a while you would take the initiative and say “Hey! You’re Leah’s dad!” Those exchanges brought him great joy and bring me joy too in thinking of them. You should know that even though we haven’t spoken face to face in years, I still refer to you as “my friend.” Thank you for the loving attention you gave every single person you met. I’m sure I speak for many people when I call you “friend.” 

I think I may be rambling at this point because there’s much I wish to tell you, but I’ll get to the point. Nabeel, you lived a mere 34 years on this earth. From my perspective it seems terribly unfair that your ministry and fatherhood were cut so short. With all my theological and apologetics training, I can’t give a reason for why you were taken this soon. Instead I cling to what I know. First, I know that God is good. Second, I know that sin is a terrible curse on this world that ends in death for us all. Yet since I know that God is good, I can rest assured that he can work through even the curse of sin to bring about his good purposes. Third, I know God used you in great and mighty ways. People have come to faith and others faith have been strengthened because of God’s work through your ministry. Fourth, I know that you are no longer suffering. You suffered greatly this past year. I am grateful that you are resting in the peace and healing of Jesus Christ as I write this letter. Fifth, I know that God is a good father. This means that he is your father and he is Ayah’s father. I know you didn’t want to leave your wife and sweet little girl. She will know that she was so deeply loved by her earthly father, and she will surely grow up with God as her perfect father. 

As I wrap up this letter I want to make a commitment to you. I commit to pray for your family. I will pray your wife, daughter, parents, and sister for comfort in this time, and I will pray that your Muslim family, especially your parents and sister, will come to faith in Jesus Christ. That is my commitment to you now.

“The Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make his face shine on you and be gracious to you; the Lord turn his face toward you and give you peace.” Numbers 6:24-26. 

Farewell, brother.