The Internet is abuzz over Jon Meachem's Newsweek cover story entitled "The End of Christian America". In fact, its comments were shut down after nearly 5,000 responses made the site "wobbly". I have been slow in gathering my thoughts on this provocative piece. From a Baptist perspective that champions church-state separation, what is the proper response to news of declining numbers of Christians in America, and lamenting speculation that we are becoming a "post-Christian" nation? Then today, an op-ed in the Wall Street Journal on a different topic by Becket Fund director of development Ashley Samelson placed the issue for me in an important light.
The Internet is abuzz over Jon Meachem's Newsweek cover story entitled "The End of Christian America ". In fact, its comments were shut down after nearly 5,000 responses made the site "wobbly". I have been slow in gathering my thoughts on this provocative piece. From a Baptist perspective that champions church-state separation, what is the proper response to news of declining numbers of Christians in America, and lamenting speculation that we are becoming a "post-Christian" nation? Then today, an op-ed in the Wall Street Journal on a different topic by Becket Fund director of development Ashley Samelson placed the issue for me in an important light.
In an essay entitled "The Freedom to Choose a New Faith", Samelson writes of the very different problem faced in many parts of the world:
Take the case of Lina Joy, born Azlina binti Jailani, a Malay woman who converted from Islam to Catholicism in 1990 at the age of 26. In order to marry her Catholic fiancé, which, according to Malaysian law, Muslims are forbidden to do, Ms. Joy petitioned the Malaysian government in 1998 to remove "Islam" from her national identification card. The Malaysian Federal Constitution defines ethnic Malays as Muslim by birth, which erects a de facto bar against their conversion from Islam. Her petition was denied unless she obtained an order of the Sharia courts officially labeling her an apostate. She took the issue to court, and after a series of trials, the state declined to alter her identification card. Nineteen years after her conversion, Ms. Joy is still in hiding, afraid her children will be taken from her because they would be considered Muslim and born of an illegitimate marriage.
She goes on to chronicle similar situations in India, Sri Lanka, and Afghanistan.
And so it is that in America, indeed, some are changing their religious affiliation; some are choosing a different faith than their parents; some are choosing no religion at all; still others, likely, are just not sure what to all themselves. I would suggest the vibrancy of religion in America has never been stronger. Only against the backdrop of a true freedom to choose are religious beliefs and decisions meaningful. And only when those choices are truly honored – no matter what they are – does religious liberty gain real significance. Or, as Brent Walker recently wrote, "For religion to be vital it must be voluntary".
Constitutionally free of coercion and state sponsorship, then, America never has been a "Christian nation" in any real sense, so it doesn't make much sense to talk about a "post-Christian" nation either. The rise in diverse religious beliefs – including, yes, atheist and agnostic perspectives – doesn't threaten our founders' vision of the country; instead it serves as evidence toward the fulfillment of the promise of religious freedom for all.
So long as we maintain too our national commitment – explicit in the Constitution – to protect the free exercise of religion as well, America's changing religious landscape will remain an opportunity and not an impediment for the church. And religious choices will remain what they should be: truly momentous acts of a free conscience, in step the Baptist tradition of soul freedom, I might add. It is for denominations and churches to make their case to individuals. That is both the challenge and the possibility for profound relevance that come, thankfully, with living in a free nation.