My parents couldn’t afford to send me to university. So, to pay for my school, I enlisted in the United States Navy. In God’s kindness, I eventually won a Navy scholarship to the University of Florida. As a part of my training, I served on a tugboat one summer. Our job was to guide large ships through the harbor without incident, using only thick, heavy lines (ropes, to the non-nautical). One morning, the petty officer assigned to the tug was preparing the lines. You can imagine how thick and heavy they had to be to pull such large vessels, yet he was throwing them around like they were dental floss. As he organised the lines, he started to bad-mouth Christians, going on and on about how hypocritical and unreliable they were. Then he looked up at me, 19 years old at the time and only a Christian for two years, and he said, “You’re not one of those Christians, are you?!”
That was it. That was the first moment of truth in my young Christian life. It was the moment to stand for my faith and muster the courage required not to deny my Lord. It was the moment to declare my allegiance to King Jesus and, in love, explain the gospel to this skeptic.
So, I responded, “Me? No, not me!”
What happened? Why, at that moment, did I become a coward? It’s simple, really: I was afraid. I was afraid of what that intimidating, unbelieving sailor would think of me, what he might say to me, or what he could do to me. I was afraid to suffer, even if only a little, for the name of Christ. I suspect I’m not the only one.
Sooner or later, we will all be confronted with the choice of identifying with Christ publicly or denying him. For some, owning their faith may lead them to lose their life, their family, or their job. But that’s probably not you. After all, not all suffering is life-threatening or career-ending, is it? Almost all of us will suffer social rejection, criticism, or ridicule for identifying with Christ. The friendship that goes cold; the snide remarks over the dinner table; the whispered gossip behind our back. These are small sufferings compared to some, but they still hurt. And they still force us to make a choice: will we identify with Christ or deny him?
Some denials are public, verbal, and outright; others are “functional denials” by virtue of our silence. When we go about our lives trying to hide the fact that we belong to Jesus, we are denying Christ. But whether functional or actual, denial is denial. And such denials are almost always rooted in fear of suffering—even if the suffering is sometimes bigger in our imaginations than it would be in reality.
This is a danger facing the whole church in the west today—that in the face of persecution, we would allow the fear of suffering to lead us to deny Christ. In the face of such a danger, the New Testament calls us time and again not to be afraid of Christian suffering, but, instead, to remain faithful, even to the point of death.
When we look to this risen Christ and believe what he has promised us, we will not be afraid.
But isn't he being wildly unrealistic? How can cowards like me overcome such fear? Jesus’ message to the church in Smyrna 2000 years ago shows us.
"And to the angel of the church in Smyrna write: “The words of the first and the last, who died and came to life.
“I know your tribulation and your poverty (but you are rich) and the slander of those who say that they are Jews and are not, but are a synagogue of Satan. 10 Do not fear what you are about to suffer. Behold, the devil is about to throw some of you into prison, that you may be tested, and for ten days you will have tribulation. Be faithful unto death, and I will give you the crown of life. 11 He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches. The one who conquers will not be hurt by the second death.” (Revelation 2 v 8-11)
As we follow Jesus, we don’t just follow him into suffering and death; we also follow him into resurrection and glory, for he is the one “who died and came to life” (v 8). Jesus says that all who conquer the fear of suffering and death by faith in him, and who endure faithfully to the end, “will not be hurt by the second death” (v 11).
Someone who held on to this promise of the crown of life was Polycarp, Bishop of Smyrna. Around the year 155, some 60 years after this letter was written, Polycarp was told by the governing authorities to bow down to Caesar and to renounce Christ. Polycarp responded, “For 86 years I have been his servant, and he has done me no wrong. How can I blaspheme my King, who saved me?” The proconsul then threatened Polycarp with wild beasts and fire. Again, Polycarp responded, “You threaten with a fire that burns only briefly and after just a little while is extinguished, for you are ignorant of the fire of the coming judgment and eternal punishment, which is reserved for the ungodly.” Then he added, “But why do you delay? Come, do what you wish.”
Polycarp, an 86-year-old Christian, essentially says… Bring it on! Can you imagine that? Oh, how I long for that kind of faith in all my moments of cowardice! But Jesus says that we can have it. It requires that we see him in all his glory—the risen Christ who, as the first and the last, rules over every moment. He’s the One who died and rose again to die no more. When we look to this risen Christ, and believe what he has promised us, then we will not be afraid. That is the faith of Polycarp, and that is the faith I want. That is the faith we should all want. That is the faith we should pray for.
So, in the (almost) words of Polycarp… bring it on!
This article is taken from Chapter 2 of Seven Dangers Facing Your Church by Juan Sanchez which is availble to buy now.