ARTICLE TOOLS

Print this article Bookmark this article

News agencies have recently taken notice of Nigeria. While persecution of Christians by Muslims has been standard for years there, reporters spotlighted retaliatory attacks by Christians in February. Christians took up arms after the most recent Muslim riots, this time stirred by the Danish cartoon controversy.

Christians have sometimes retaliated before, but this response was predicted by a national figure. The day before Christians started fighting back, Anglican primate and Christian Association of Nigeria president Peter Akinola stated: "From all indications, it is very clear now that the sacrifices of the Christians in this country for peaceful coexistence with people of other faiths has been sadly misunderstood to be weakness. … May we at this stage remind our Muslim brothers that they do not have the monopoly of violence in this nation." Akinola suspects that after years of enduring Shari'ah law in the country's northern states, which are majority Muslim, the nation's Christians have hit a breaking point.

Statements like Akinola's warning appear out of place to modern Christians used to seeing their faith as a religion of peace and nonviolence—even in the face of persecution and death. We point to the early church as a model of perseverance. We take pride in how our predecessors, though seemingly powerless by earthly standards, overcame the hostility of what was the most powerful empire of the known world. This is not mere historical fact. The persecuted church is still with us, under threat of violence and death around the world not just from Muslims but also Hindus and Buddhists.

Christians actually seem to derive strength from oppression. Martyrs live up to their name as witnesses to their belief in the gospel, even unto death. The five "Auca martyrs" are only among the most recent (and most publicized) missionaries whose death has brought people to Christ. And Christianity's emphasis on forgiveness, reconciliation, and love can prove attractive to those seeking an alternative to their violent, retributive cultures. The sense of hope and peace that Christians can embody in the face of suffering and loss—even when not overtly standing for their faith—continues to impress outsiders.

It is scarcely any wonder that, even in the face of suffering, many Christians advocate a nonviolent response. Less than two years ago, a Nigerian native advocated loving outreach to Muslims to bring them to Christ, even in spite of previous and ongoing attacks. He certainly has a strong tradition backing him.

However common it might be, suffering persecution should not be overly glamorized. As Mark Galli notes, some persecutions have indeed built up the church—but others simply destroy it. Persecutions in Japan during the 1600s, China during the 800s, and northern Africa starting in the 700s effectively eliminated Christianity in those regions, such that frequently "no one was left even to tell the stories of martyrdom." Galli suggests Western Christians' fascination with martyrdom comes from a utilitarian view of persecution, which views oppression as "the best thing that could happen to the church in America." For certain persecutions, that simply was not the case. Even in the times and places where Christianity was ultimately destroyed, we can take courage from our spiritual ancestors. Still, that doesn't make the church in those countries any less dead.

Moreover, America's response to persecution abroad belies our belief that persecution is really a good thing. Otherwise, as Philip Yancey sardonically noted in The Jesus I Never Knew, we wouldn't be trying to stop it abroad. It's possible in America to talk up or romanticize persecution, and claim a mantle of martyrdom in order to boost our moral authority. But when confronted with the horrific nature of actual persecution in the world, we instinctually, and correctly, begin to look for ways to stop it.

Freedom House's Paul Marshall made a stir in a recent interview when he suggested that, under certain circumstances, "the defense through arms of a community and territory may well be a legitimate option" for Christians. He cited Armenia, Ethiopia, Sudan, and even Nigeria as positive examples. When facing what appears a "genocidal war," Marshall said armed resistance is a proper response to keep believers, and the church itself, from being utterly crushed.

While many Christians, particularly those from the more pacifist traditions, become uneasy at the thought of violent resistance, one should note that American Christians' traditional methods of dealing with worldwide persecution are hardly passive. In between calls for prayer and letter writing campaigns, one sees subtle encouragements to leverage the economic power of the United States into pressuring foreign governments to halt the oppression in their lands.

However, the use of power and coercion—economic or otherwise—to help persecuted Christians around the world should not be viewed as bad thing. America has a unique position from which to a stand for human rights around the world, and has already done so in places like Bosnia and Kosovo. It seems a bit odd to claim that such exertions should only be utilized to aid non-Christians.

The 20th century witnessed the greatest outpouring of persecution and martyrdom the church has ever endured. Perhaps, even as we marvel at the faith that enabled so many Christians to stand firm under unrelenting pressure and hostility, we might further pursue ways to keep the 21st century from setting a new record.

Will Reaves works as a freelancer for Christianity Today International and Tyndale House Publishers