What will you risk for your faith?

A group of believers sitting around a table pondered the question: What would happen if you openly admitted you were a Christian at work?

“I can’t possibly do that or I’d be passed over for promotion,” said Jane, a manager at a large insurance firm.

“To openly admit I was a Christian could get me fired,” added Richard, a pharmaceutical rep.

“No professor in his right mind would admit it, or they’d never get tenure,” said Sylvia, who taught accounting at the local college.

“My friends won’t like me if they knew I stood for that,” said Carol, a member of the Junior League.

“I cannot get elected if I really live out my faith,” concluded Bob, a local politician.

These responses are typical of what I hear from people who come to me for advice. Those who seek me out tend to be the conscientious ones who strive to live out their faith in a substantive way, but I’m often stunned by how little they’re willing to risk for their faith.

In Bible studies these folks know the right answers, they know thatJesus said, “Whoever acknowledges me before men, I will also acknowledge him before my Father in heaven” (Matthew 10:32). They understand that to become a Jewish Christian in A.D. 60 involved danger—considerable danger: beatings, excommunication, loss of business connections, being cut off from family and friends, and even death. Yet these same folks fail to connect the dots to their current situation, saying, “Jesus can’t possibly want me to risk losing my job.”

The Benham Brothers lost their program on HGTV, Brendan Eich had to step down as Mozilla’s CEO, and Phil Robertson was roasted—all because their beliefs conflicted with the current politically correct culture. The risks they took were mild compared to others. Recently, thousands of Christians fled the plains of Nineveh to escape ISIS; Kenyan Christians on a hijacked bus lost their lives because they would not forsake their faith; and Vietnamese and Laotian Christian churches, schools, and homes are being targeted. These individuals understand faith involves a huge risk. In 21st century America we may not.

Martin Luther said, “If you’ve got nothing worth dying for, you’ve got nothing worth living for.” For us today the peril seldom reaches the level of life-or-death decisions. Yet many falter in the face of the smallest pressure.

A story was shared with me about two men from the same company who ran into each other at a Christian event. They looked at each other in dumbfounded silence. They’d known one another for years, worked together intimately, and yet each was surprised that the other was a believer. There hadn’t been enough evidence in either man’s life to suggest that they knew Christ—not a word, not a stance, not an action. They had never risked anything to reveal that they were men of faith.

We all need to ask ourselves, “What about me? What have I risked? What will I risk for my faith?”