Twenty-five years ago, most Americans did not perceive radical Islam as an existential threat. That changed suddenly on September 11. Suddenly we began to take Islam seriously.

Or did we? In the wake of the terrorist bombing, responsible US leaders, led by President Bush, hastened to reassure us that Islam is a “religion of peace,” that Osama bin Laden and his followers were extremist exceptions to that rule.

No doubt the jihadists are exceptions; the vast majority of Muslims are not terrorists. But we can no longer pretend that the extremists are few in number. Whether jihadism represents a sort of Islamic heresy or the true nature of the faith, the militant strain has threatened the West repeatedly over the centuries, forcing confrontations at Poitiers and Lepanto and Vienna long before the World Trade Center was built. And whether or not they are Islamic heretics, the jihadists are motivated by faith: a faith that is perverse and evil, yet strong enough to prompt men willingly to sacrifice their lives.

The challenge that Islamic jihadism poses to our national security is a problem for our military and political leaders. The more general challenge of the Islamic faith, however, is a problem that all Christians must face.

Today Europe is being overrun by Islam in both its militant and secularized forms. European society has failed to meet the challenge, not because Islam is overpowering, but because European culture—which once was a Christian culture—lacks the will to resist. People with faith in an ideal will inevitably triumph over people with no faith at all. A society interested only in self-preservation is no match for a rivals whose foremost representatives are willing to sacrifice their lives.

So how do we respond to the challenge of Islam? With faith, with prayer. The Church Militant (why should we be apologetic about that term?) is charged with the mission to bring all the world to Christ. We do not seek to conquer by force, but we do seek to conquer. We must rise to the challenge now with active faith: a faith strong enough to inspire prayer and to believe in the power of that prayer.

Years ago, years before that horrible day in September, I was invited to speak at an inter-religious conference on morality in economics. Among the other participants was a distinguished Muslim cleric; I am sorry that I don’t now remember his name. He was an affable man, perhaps twenty years older than me, with a lively sense of humor, good-humored about my pitiful attempts to greet him in Arabic. We quickly became friends. (Incidentally, another Catholic speaker at the conference was the late Gregory Baum; I don’t think I have ever felt such an immediate dislike for another man, and I’m sure the feeling was mutual. But that is a story for another day.)

At the dinner that closed the conference, I saw beside the imam, and our conversation became serious. Learning that my wife’s father was a (thoroughly secularized) Muslim, who had disowned Leila when she became a Christian, he promised to try to heal the breach. (He fulfilled that promise within a week, writing to my father-in-law, unfortunately without success.) But then he grew still more serious, and turned in his chair to face more directly. I think I can remember his words fairly exactly:

I must tell you that since your wife’s father is a Muslim, she too is a Muslim. If she does not return to the faith, she will go to hell. And you, my friend, because you are married to a Muslim, will also go to hell if you do not embrace our faith.

I was speechless. The imam naturally thought I was angry, and said he was sorry if he had offended me. I stopped him, and told him that I was not at all offended; quite the contrary I was moved by what I recognized as an act of charity. If what he said was what he truly believed, then it was a great sign of friendship that he told me, knowing full well that I would not be pleased with his message.

More than that. I was embarrassed that in a couple of days of conversation, I had made no real effort to bring him to Christ. Then, to demonstrate my sincerity, I told him that his soul was in danger if he did not embrace Christianity.

After that sobering exchange we parted as friends. Neither of us was shaken in his faith, but each was convinced of the other’s bona fides.

That honest imam was a truly peaceful man, I trust. Yet he was a true believer, determined to bring others to his faith. So should we all be. Christian faith and the power of prayer have far more potential than “smart weapons” to save our society from harm.

So on this 25th anniversary of the World Trade Center attack, I suggest that we pray for the conversion of jihadists, and of all others who reject the Gospel. We should pray not only for our own safety, but for the welfare of all the souls darkened by perverse ideologies. Let’s not be embarrassed by the prayer of St. Francis Xavier:

Eternal God, Creator of all things, remember that Thou alone didst create the souls of infidels, framing them to Thine own image and likeness; behold, O Lord, how, to Thy dishonor, hell is daily replenished with them. Remember, O Lord, Thine only Son, Jesus Christ, Who suffered for them, most bountifully shedding His precious blood. Suffer not, O Lord, Thy Son and our Lord to be any longer despised by infidels. But, rather, being appeased by the entreaties and prayers of the elect, the saints, and of the Church, the most blessed spouse of Thy Son; be mindful of Thy mercy, yet forgetful of their idolatry and infidelity. Cause all to know Him Whom Thou didst send, Jesus Christ Thy Son, our Lord, Who is our health, life, and resurrection, through Whom we are freed and saved, to Whom be all glory forever. Amen.

From Phil Lawler on Catholic Culture