Truth Rises: Christian Persecution and the Hope of Easter
- Lynn Matthews
- 1 day ago
- 3 min read
Updated: 13 hours ago
The government didn’t kill Jesus. The law didn’t demand his blood. A mob—angry, frenzied—screamed, “Crucify him!” Pontius Pilate, Rome’s governor, knew Jesus was innocent. Three times, he declared it. But justice crumbled under the weight of shouts. Pilate washed his hands, choosing cheers over truth. The crowd—some who’d waved palms days before—freed a murderer and condemned the sinless. It was history’s first cancel culture: mob justice that silenced the only perfect man.
Christian Persecution across the world
Two thousand years later, the shadow of the cross stretches across burning churches and blood-soaked villages. In Nigeria, Esther saw her husband shot mid-sermon last Easter in Benue—30 lives lost for their hymns. Across the world, Christians still face the same hatred:
India: Mobs burn 1,200 homes, pastors lynched for praying.
North Korea: 70,000 jailed—possessing a Bible risks execution.
Pakistan: Blasphemy laws imprison 1,000 for a single word.
This February, in the village of Mayba, masked men armed with machetes stormed a church, slaughtering 50 worshippers as they planned to rescue loved ones. In China, churches are bulldozed, pastors imprisoned. In Afghanistan, confessing Christ publicly is a death sentence.
In a world that preaches tolerance, Christianity remains the most persecuted faith on Earth—a faith built on love, mercy, and sacrifice. As Easter nears, persecution rises, and yet the global conscience scrolls past. Politicians ignore it. Newsrooms bury it. Even churches whisper in fear of labels.
American Mob and the American Government Persecute Christianity
But persecution isn’t confined to distant lands. Even in America—a nation founded on religious freedom—faith faces growing hostility.
In recent years, the Biden Administration has faced scrutiny for targeting religious practices. FBI informants were reportedly sent to monitor Latin Masses, raising concerns about government overreach into sacred spaces. Tracking Bible purchases and canceling public prayer further erodes the tolerance America claims to uphold.
The mob is louder than the truth.
Today’s mob doesn’t drive nails—it cancels lives. It calls faith hate, morality bigotry. In the West, hashtags and firings silence teachers and preachers. Elsewhere, it’s machetes. The tools may differ, but the hate remains the same. Yet, Christians stand. Why? Because Easter wasn’t just a story—it was a miracle.
Three days after the crucifixion, the tomb was empty, except for the burial garments he was wearing. The heavy stone, placed there to prevent tampering with what Rome saw as his corpse, was rolled away, despite being guarded by Roman soldiers. What began as a brutal public execution sparked the most radical, resilient movement the world has ever known. The Christian Church—born from blood, built on love, carried by faith—spread across continents. Its founders weren’t kings or warriors but fishermen, tax collectors, and former criminals. They saw the risen Christ and were willing to die for the truth. And many did.
From the beginning, Christians were thrown to lions, burned alive, and crucified in Roman streets. Yet the Church grew—not despite persecution, but through it. Hope is contagious. Truth is dangerous. Light is unbearable to those who love darkness.
The tomb emptied. Death was defeated. Jesus rose, and his followers—sinners and martyrs alike—spread his fire. Rome’s lions didn’t stop them. Nigeria’s guns won’t either. In India, a widow rebuilds her burned church. In Iran, believers whisper Christ’s name in secret. They don’t follow a dead teacher; they follow a risen King.
This Easter, don’t look away. The mob crucified Jesus, but he won. Today’s martyrs bleed, but in their blood, they shine light. Pray for Esther. Give to Open Doors. Share the truth. Because if a mob could crucify the only innocent man, what can it do now? Easter reminds us that truth, no matter how buried, rises. But it needs defenders. Pray for those abroad, and stand firm against the erosion of faith here at home.