A long time ago, a friend of mine told me that the biggest request of the persecuted church is prayer. Ever since, I’ve gotten prayer bulletins from Open Doors, Barnabas Aid, and Samaritan’s Purse—Christian organizations that help the persecuted, marginalized, and disaster-stricken.
Admittedly, prayer is not the most exciting or pleasant discipline. Most of the time, it does little more than raise awareness of the suffering of believers. Most of the time, I say a prayer, think about the situation I’ve read about, and move on.
This request was different.
Twenty Christian families (105 people) in a rural part of Laos were given one month to abandon their Christian faith, leave the village or be put in prison. The church leaders responded by showing to the local district head the national constitution/laws stating that Christianity is a recognised religion in Laos. But the district head simply replied that in his area Christians will not be allowed. At the time of writing, the church leaders are trying to get their case brought to the attention of the central government. Five of the 20 families have given up their faith, because they are so frightened. Pray that the other 15 will stand firm.
Barnabas Aid, “Daily Prayer – Tuesday 19 February 2019”; emphasis added
My prayers were drowned out by a single thought: These people wouldn’t be in that situation if it weren’t for their faith.
I don’t say that to be cynical or callous. I’m just calling it as I see it. A religion, a belief in an invisible deity, has put people in places of intense fear and distress—not just in 21st-century Laos, but all over the world in the last 2,000 years.
But it’s not just in Laos. It’s everywhere. At the behest of a God they’ve never seen nor proven, thousands upon thousands of people have been tortured, crucified, thrown to carnivores, or sent on missions to the most dangerous places on earth—all because they believe a man died, rose again, promised salvation by faith, and told people to take up their crosses and follow Him.
The logistics of this bother me. An invisible, unproven God has enough leverage to make His people face extreme pain and suffering. What’s more, many Christians seem willing to suffer and even die for God.
My compliments to them, but I don’t share in their passion. Instead, their stories raise another question: Where does that passion come from? Are they being pressured? Are they being brainwashed? Do they see something in God that the rest of us don’t?
What causes people to stand firm at all?
To find the answers, I looked at the Bible. After all, Laotian Christians and I read the same Good Book, so I might as well see what it has to say.
Don’t be afraid of those who want to kill your body; they cannot touch your soul. Fear only God, who can destroy both soul and body in hell.
Matthew 10:28
Everyone who acknowledges Me publicly here on earth, I will also acknowledge before my Father in heaven. But everyone who denies Me here on earth, I will also deny before My Father in heaven.
Matthew 10:32–33
If you refuse to take up your cross and follow Me, you are not worthy of being Mine.
Matthew 10:38
Whether we are here in this body or away from this body, our goal is to please Him. For we must all stand before Christ to be judged. We will each receive whatever we deserve for the good or evil we have done in this earthly body.
2 Corinthians 5:9–10
These verses probably explain a lot. If we love God, we love the idea of being His. We wouldn’t want to lose that oneness, so we would do whatever we could—even face extreme pain for His sake—to keep from losing that oneness. Besides, if God’s going to judge all His people for the good and bad they did, we might as well follow Him, just to avoid the consequences of rejecting Him.
To many Christians, this reasoning may settle the matter. Not to me. I’m a Christian, and even I think this is a hard sell.
If you’ve followed Ex-Narnian for a while, you’ve seen it firsthand: I spent years being intensely scared of God, divine rejection, Judgment Day, and the threat of punishment—and those fears were so intense that my faith nearly died. Literal fear of God is a poison, and I never want to taste it again.
Plus, I’m a practical guy. I think religion and reality ought to walk hand in hand. If every word of God proves true (Proverbs 30:5), reality and experience ought to justify a hard truth in the Bible. If I’m going to face persecution, I need good, practical, common-sense reasons to do it.
To my surprise, I can think of five:
- Integrity: I won’t let anyone dictate my convictions and actions, and I won’t bend them just to avoid an unpleasant outcome.
- Conscience: If I compromise once, it’ll be easier to compromise on something big, and I don’t want to do that.
- Ethics: Many of the Bible’s ethics (love God, love others, abstain from sex until marriage, etc.) are some of the most important things I own, and they’ve done me great good.
- Convictions: I refuse to let fear, insults, lies, and any other sort of crap dictate my actions, and standing up to them will neutralize any leverage they would otherwise have over me.
- Sacrifice: Experience and reality convince me that my ethics and convictions are worth defending and sharing for the sake of others—even at great risk to myself and my future.
Granted, I don’t know how I will respond if and when I ever face persecution. But given who I am and how I think, I need to have a bottom line: I don’t want anyone or anything to influence me without my consent. I prefer to make up my mind for myself.
But that’s where the Bible and I disagree.
Recall those verses. God commands us to fear Him, promises Judgment Day, and tells us we’re not worthy to be His if we don’t take up our crosses and follow Him. And what have I done? I’ve essentially said, “I agree with those verses, but they really don’t motivate how I live and think.”
But that’s where the tension comes in. Far as I can tell, the Bible offers only fear and incentives. Unless I’m missing something, it seems the only way to endure persecution is to let God exercise leverage over us.
I’d say that sucks.
But I don’t want other people to have leverage over me, either. I won’t let fear, anger, insults, threats, or intimidation deter me from doing or thinking what I know is right. Maybe, therefore, the issue is this: Who’s going to have leverage over me—God or others?
I’d say that sucks, too.
I’m sure this post will not be the final word on the matter. For now, this is my position: I will not go back to the old ways of belief. I refuse to be scared of God. I refuse to let Judgment Day or fear of discipline affect how I live. And as unpopular as this may be, I’ll say it, anyway: I won’t be influenced by the idea of punishment or the prospect of God denying me, and I don’t care about eternal rewards or the idea of hearing the words “Well done!” None of that means much to me; what matters more is living well, recovering well, and grounding faith and obedience in reality.
And when it comes to persecution, intimidation, or pressure to accept views I believe are wrong, I will dig in my heels, if only for my sake. I don’t want fear, threats, insults, emotions, or the anger of others to have any leverage over me. One of the most important things I can do is live well, with a clear and rational mind that is free to make itself up.
I will expect nothing less.
Ex-Narnian 