Think Christianity Is ‘Under Attack’? You Need to Read This First.

Let’s be real: nothing triggers a quicker, “Help, I’m being persecuted!” response than asking tough questions about Christianity in America.

Power that can’t survive a simple ‘Why?’ was never strength to begin with.
Image created by author using DALL-E.

Suddenly, you’re not just curious — you’re the reincarnation of Nero throwing believers to the lions. Meanwhile, these same “persecuted” folks are inaugurating presidents with their hands on Bibles, deciding what women can do with their bodies, and enjoying federal holidays for their religious celebrations.

Make it make sense!

America’s Most Oppressed Majority

According to Pew Research’s 2023 data, Christians make up roughly 63% of American adults. They occupy 88% of congressional seats. Six of nine Supreme Court justices are Catholic or were raised Catholic. Christian symbols adorn our currency, pledges, and courthouses. Our work calendars revolve around Christian holidays.

This isn’t just representation — it’s domination. Imagine any other group with this level of power crying persecution when someone says, “Hey, I have questions about your claims.” We’d roll our eyes so hard they’d get stuck.

When was the last time you saw a non-Christian elected president? Oh, right, never. When was the last time you had to work on Christmas? Probably never. When was the last time a law based on Hindu or Buddhist principles passed Congress? I’ll wait.

And yet, somehow, politely asking, “Is there historical evidence for this biblical claim?” — or even questioning whether their version of morality should be enforced on everyone else — gets you labeled an anti-Christian bigot faster than you can say “separation of church and state.”

It’s not just about defending faith. It’s about defending power — the power to define the rules, control the conversation, and decide whose rights get respected without ever having to explain why.

Christians: the most persecuted group in America — who also just happen to control 88% of Congress. Wild how that works. Source: Pew Research Center, “Faith on the Hill 2023”

The “Don’t Question My Faith” Force Field

There’s this fascinating double standard where Christianity gets a special criticism-free zone that nothing else in society enjoys. Try these experiments:

• Question capitalism? You’re participating in a healthy economic debate.
• Question democracy? You’re engaging in political philosophy.
• Question climate science? You’re (wrongly, but still) “skeptical.”
• Question Christianity? YOU HATE CHRISTIANS AND AMERICA.

And why the special treatment? Because faith isn’t just a personal belief system — it’s been used, over and over again, as the foundation for controlling public life. Laws, rights, norms, power structures.

Questioning the faith isn’t just questioning theology. It’s questioning who gets to be in charge — and who’s expected to stay quiet.

As philosopher John Rawls pointed out in “Political Liberalism,” a functional democracy requires public reasons for policies that affect everyone — not just “because my religion says so.” But mention this reasonable standard, and suddenly you’re persecuting the faithful.

The intellectual gymnastics would be impressive if they weren’t so exhausting. As religious studies scholar Randall Balmer noted, “There’s a tendency to conflate criticism with persecution, which does a disservice both to honest dialogue and to the memory of actual martyrs.”

Translation: Being asked hard questions at a dinner party is different from being thrown to actual lions. Let’s maintain some perspective.

The “Persecution” Olympics

Let’s talk about what real religious persecution looks like: imprisonment, torture, execution. Christians in certain countries genuinely face these horrors today. But in America? The “persecution” amounts to:

• Having to see “Happy Holidays” signs at Target
• Not being able to enforce your religious views on others through law
• Occasionally encountering people who disagree with you
• Being expected to support claims with evidence

If that’s persecution, then everyone who’s ever had their fantasy football picks questioned is being persecuted. Every sci-fi fan who’s had to defend why they prefer Star Wars to Star Trek is a martyr.

Meanwhile, try being an atheist politician in America. Good luck with that career. As of 2023, only one member of Congress publicly identifies as unaffiliated with any religion. But sure, Christians are the ones who can’t get a fair shake.

“How Dare You Question My Unquestionable Claims!”

Here’s where it gets truly bizarre: Christianity makes specific factual claims about history, science, and reality — claims that affect how believers vote, what laws they support, and how they treat others — but we’re supposed to evaluate these claims differently than literally any other claim about reality.

Imagine if I said, “The moon is made of cheese, and you can’t question that because it’s my deeply held belief.” You’d laugh me out of the room. But substitute a religious claim that has equally little supporting evidence, and suddenly I’m making a “faith statement” that deserves reverence, not questions.

This is what philosopher Daniel Dennett calls a “conversational stop sign” — a magic phrase that’s supposed to end all critical thinking. “It’s my faith” functions in debates the way “because I said so” functions for tired parents of four-year-olds. It’s not an argument; it’s an attempt to shut down the argument.

Fragility Isn’t Faith

There’s a term for this in other contexts: fragility. Similar to what Robin DiAngelo identified as “white fragility,” we might call this “Christian fragility” — the defensive rage that emerges when members of a dominant religious group face even mild questioning of their assumptions.

True confidence doesn’t need this defense mechanism. Many thoughtful Christians throughout history have welcomed tough questions, seeing them as opportunities to deepen understanding rather than threats to demolish faith. Theologian Paul Tillich argued that faith strong enough to be meaningful must be strong enough to withstand doubt.

The Christians I most respect aren’t the ones who get offended at questions — they’re the ones who say, “That’s a great question. I’ve wrestled with it myself. Let me share my thinking.” They recognize that a God supposedly powerful enough to create the universe is probably not threatened by a 23-year-old’s questions at Thanksgiving dinner.

A Better Way Forward: Equal-Opportunity Skepticism

Here’s a radical proposal: let’s treat all claims about reality with the same level of critical inquiry, regardless of whether they come from a lab, a legislature, or a pulpit. This approach empowers us all to contribute to a fair and just society.

This doesn’t mean treating people disrespectfully. It means treating their ideas with the respect they deserve, giving them the serious consideration they warrant, rather than the false respect of immunity from questioning.

A truly equal society would mean:

1. No special “don’t question me” passes for religious claims in public policy debates
2. No assumption that challenging religious ideas means hating religious people
3. No more playing the persecution card when facing standard levels of scrutiny
4. Religious literacy for all Americans without religious indoctrination

These aren’t just academic standards, they’re how we protect real people — women, minorities, non-believers, anyone whose rights could be sacrificed on the altar of “because my religion said so”.

Critical inquiry keeps powerful ideas honest and powerful institutions accountable. This isn’t an anti-Christian agenda — it’s a pro-democracy agenda. It’s about creating a level playing field where ideas succeed based on their merits, not their historical privileges.

Personal Note: I Know How This Plays Out

I get it.

I grew up in a Mormon household. Even though I left the church in my early twenties, most of my family still practices. And I’ve seen firsthand how even simple, reasonable questions can trigger accusations of “attacking” someone’s faith.

Like the time I asked why the church pours billions into building ornate temples around the world while homelessness grows worse every year. I wasn’t mocking anyone. I wasn’t trying to tear anything down. I was asking a real question about priorities. About values.

When billion-dollar temples shine brighter than the needs outside their gates, maybe it’s time to ask what’s really being worshiped.
Image created by author using DALL-E.

The response? Immediate defensiveness. Instant accusations that I was “attacking” them personally, as if their beliefs were somehow above basic moral scrutiny.

It’s not just a Mormon thing. It’s a pattern across a lot of American Christianity. The second you step outside the bubble and ask hard but fair questions, you’re painted as hostile.

But here’s the thing: if your ideas are good, they don’t need bubble wrap.

They can take a few honest questions and still stand tall.

Strong Ideas Don’t Need Special Protection

So no, asking honest questions about Christianity isn’t bigotry. It’s treating big, important claims the way we treat everything else that matters — with curiosity, critical thinking, and a little healthy skepticism.

If that feels like an attack, maybe the problem isn’t the questions.

Maybe it’s that the answers aren’t holding up.

Either way, the conversation’s happening — with or without your permission.

When faith needs this much bubble wrap, maybe the problem isn’t the questions.
Image created by author using DALL-E.

References

Balmer, R. (2021). Bad Faith: Race and the Rise of the Religious Right. Eerdmans Publishing.

Dennett, D. C. (2006). Breaking the Spell: Religion as a Natural Phenomenon. Viking.

DiAngelo, R. (2018). White Fragility: Why It’s So Hard for White People to Talk About Racism. Beacon Press.

Mill, J. S. (1859). On Liberty. John W. Parker and Son.

Pew Research Center. (2023). Religious Landscape Study. Retrieved from

Rawls, J. (1993). Political Liberalism. Columbia University Press.

Tillich, P. (1957). Dynamics of Faith. Harper & Row.