Faith over Fear
“How do you share your faith in a country where proselytizing is illegal?” This is a question I often receive when I return to the United States. My answer echoes the quote commonly attributed to St. Francis of Assisi: “Preach the Gospel at all times; when necessary, use words.”[1] I desire to live my life in such a way that no one is surprised when I speak about the hope I have in Christ.
Growing up in a Christian home, I memorized many verses calling believers to live renewed lives. Paul exhorts followers of Jesus in 2 Timothy 4:2 to be ready to proclaim the Word, and 1 Peter 3:15 urges us to be prepared to give an answer for the hope within us. As a new nurse, I sought to live this out—offering prayer to patients and sharing encouragement rooted in faith. Now, in a context where the Gospel must be embodied more than spoken, I depend on the Holy Spirit to overcome fear and to express freedom through the cross.
In the United States, Christian nationalism increasingly merges faith with political identity. In contrast, my host country’s Islamic public policy fuses religion with governance. When personal faith becomes a political mandate, religion turns coercive rather than redemptive. The hope of Christ is best shared through freedom, humility, and love—not through force or law.
My understanding of the rise of Christian nationalism has developed as I have watched the line blur between biblical teaching, Gospel living, and politics. Russell Moore in Losing Our Religion: An Altar Call for Evangelical America, defines Christian nationalism as “the use of Christian words, symbols, or rituals as a means to the end of shoring up an ethnic or a national identity.”[2] Christian vocabulary becomes part of a cultural or national identity, but the heart transformation that comes with the Gospel is missing. Christian nationalism has also risen because people are often too afraid to speak out against what seems to be the majority.[3]
T. Wright and Michael Bird warn in Jesus and the Powers: Christian Political Witness in an Age of Totalitarian Terror and Dysfunctional Democracies that Christian nationalism “diminishes the rights of the people of other religions or no religion.”[4] A faithful public witness is defined by believers who live out their faith through love in both word and deed.[5] Lives visibly changed by the Gospel are what our culture needs, not more discourse or religious speech. The best way to discern when Jesus is being used to bless political ideology rather than challenge it is through His Word. Scripture shows us what transformed lives look like and gives clear guidelines to help us recognize them.
As followers of Jesus, we must also be careful not to replace the Gospel with social justice. While this is an important issue and one that aligns with God’s heart, it must always be filtered through Scripture. Jesus was an advocate for the outcasts and the oppressed.[6] However, His mission went beyond justice and focused on the redemption of men’s hearts. We should pursue justice because humanity is made in the image of God, knowing that our hope rests in Christ’s transforming work, not in any movement, cause, or political side.
In my experience working with Muslims in a politically Islamic nation, it is vital to teach the value of thinking critically about what one believes. Asking questions helps people examine truth and understand why they believe what they do. What is our source of truth? Russell Moore writes that “the first step to becoming a people of truth is to recognize what makes us afraid.”[7] In my Islamic context, that fear is often rooted in the possibility of losing one’s family, job, or home–essentially everything. In my conservative circles in America, fear looks different but still controls many; it often is fear of going against louder or more forceful voices.
Christian leaders must learn to live cruciform lives—willing to be different and willing to bear the cost. Wright calls us to “[live] luminously visible lives that appear odd to others because of our allegiance to Jesus and adopting a life patterned after Jesus.”[8] This is easier to read than to live out, especially when it seems to be going against the majority.
In closing, the most significant tension for me is learning to live this cruciform life within community, not in isolation from other followers of Jesus. I want to live differently and befriend those who think differently from me.[9] It also means being willing to be uncomfortable and to “lose our stability” so that we can find firmer ground.[10]
May these losses and struggles provide safe spaces for others, Christians, Muslims, and those of other faiths, to come together and live life in community. In that living, may my life reflect the change brought by the Gospel. The Kingdom of God is seen through those who are redeemed, renewed, and living out the Gospel each day, even when it goes against the political majorities of the world.
[1] Mark Galli, “Speak the Gospel,” Christianity Today, May 21, 2009, https://www.christianitytoday.com/2009/05/speak-gospel/?utm_source=chatgpt.com.
[2] Russell D. Moore, Losing Our Religion: An Altar Call for Evangelical America, Kindle ed. (Penguin Publishing Group, 2023) 116-117.
[3] Moore, Losing our Religion, 86.
[4] N. T. Wright and Michael F. Bird, Jesus and the Powers: Christian Political Witness in an Age of Totalitarian Terror and Dysfunctional Democracies, Kindle ed. (Zondervan Reflective, 2024), 132.
[5] 1 John 3:18
[6] Wright and Bird, Jesus and the Powers, 79.
[7] Moore, Losing our Religion, 84.
[8] Wright and Bird, Jesus and the Powers, 77.
[9] Wright and Bird, Jesus and the Powers, 160.
[10] Moore, Losing our Religion, 238.
14 responses to “Faith over Fear”
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Hi Kari,
How does fear—whether of persecution or social rejection—shape our willingness to speak truthfully in public?
Shela, Fear can blind us or limit our capacity to respond productively, both in public and even in private. With consequences such as persecution or social rejection, this can cause action paralysis.
Hey Kari,
Thank you for this post. This statement really resonated with me: “When personal faith becomes a political mandate, religion turns coercive rather than redemptive. The hope of Christ is best shared through freedom, humility, and love—not through force or law.” Your words made me think about those who live under systems where religion is enforced rather than chosen. When faith becomes something people follow out of fear instead of love, what do you think happens to the human heart over time?
Good question, Elysse. Proverbs 12:25 comes to mind-“Anxiety weighs the heart down.” The more weight of fear that we carry, the less we will be able to do or be.
Hi Kari, thanks for your post. My thoughts are more comments than questions. When you talked about helping people to think critically about what they believe through asking questions, you really are curious in your questioning rather than trying to trip someone up. That curiosity becomes a window or door to relationships, which is what Jesus offers. Do your friends ever ask you about your faith?
Thank you, Diane! Sadly, it is rare that my local friends ask about my faith. Their religion does not endorse curiosity. When they do, it is a huge victory and always leads to an excellent conversation. Because, as you said, curiosity is a window to relationships–especially with our Creator!
Hey Kari. Thank you for your post and your work is truly inspiring particularly as you are nestled with a non-Christian community. You mentioned, “the most significant tension for me is learning to live this cruciform life within community, not in isolation from other followers of Jesus.”
Can you share a littlle more?
Thanks, Daren. With such polarity and elevated emotions over Christian nationalism, there have been many times I would rather have intellectual conversations with non-believers than engage with others of my faith. It takes a lot of work to have intentional, productive discussions, especially when Christianese is used to fuel them.
Hi Kari,
In a world where control is sought through politics and religion, what might it look like for Christians to embody a faith that others can see the Kingdom of God, even without words? How do we also balance this with the need to actually speak the gospel?
Christy, in response to your question, I think of the muslims I know who have fully embraced the Gospel. They are clearly walking in the Spirit and thus exhibit the fruits of the Spirit. This is a vast contrast to those walking in darkness. As others see this change, it provides a (safe) platform to share what caused the same. I think the same can be true of us–live out a transformed life in a way that cannot be denied and can easily bridge into spiritual conversations.
HI, Kari, thank you for your post. I like how you concluded you post by giving the encouragement to live a ‘cruciform lives – willing to be different and bear the cost.’ This would be a ‘luminously visible and loud’ life of witnessing through our action. Thank you for sharing with us how to share Jesus where we think it is impossible. Thank you, Kari.
Thank you for your kind words, Noel.
HI Kari,
I appreciate your comment about using Christian vocabulary to shore up an identity that does notgive evidence of transformation in Jesus. It also makes me uncomfortable because many ‘Nationalist’ types I know also hold dearly to a theological doctrine of entire sanctification…which should result in visible tranformation. Without judging others, I need to examine myself – where do I ‘look’ tranformed, and where am I using Christian language to claim an identity? No question – just thinking out loud in response to your post. Thank you.
Great thoughts, Julie! Thanks for sharing.