Activism as evangelism: Making the kingdom visible
If evangelistic placards and megaphones could be turned towards oppressors and injustice rather than passers by, our witness would be far more powerful.
Words: Naomi Orrell
A few weeks ago, I had the strangest experience. I was walking through Tottenham when a street preacher accosted me, asking me why I was wearing a keffiyeh. I let him know that I was actually coming back from a church service, something which only seemed to rile him more, and he informed me that I was putting my faith in “identity politics” rather than my Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ. I tried to explain to him that if Jesus was alive today in the same place he was born, he would have been living under occupation in Palestine. He was having none of it, telling me to repent of my sins and choose the correct path to righteousness.
As I was walking away from this interaction, it struck me that this was perfectly emblematic of how differently I understand evangelism to others. The desire to put on a Gwen Stefani-esque wireless microphone and tell my neighbours that they are going to hell is a form of Christianity that is alien to me. The closest thing I saw to evangelism growing up was a very genteel Palm Sunday procession. For this street preacher, however, the only way that I could be saved and follow the path to righteousness was to repent, deny myself of my politically charged clothing, pick up my Bible and follow him to his (I imagine) specifically charismatic, evangelical type of church. While this might be the path this preacher feels called to follow, I am more interested in an evangelism that disrupts the places where pain and injustice are caused.
From the climate crisis to Palestine, Christian groups are hearing the call of scripture to “speak out for those who cannot speak” (Proverbs 31:8) and taking to the streets to call out the numerous injustices plaguing society. These groups are often smaller than other groups at demonstrations, but our presence is felt by others. The small(er) but mighty faithful groups are a powerful witness to the wider movement. This is not just a case of saying that “we’re not like other Christians”; it is about embodying our faith, making Christ real in the actions that we take, trying to make the kingdom of Heaven visible on Earth.
In some ways, I think the desire to preach to the unconverted in the streets has similarities with my desire to cause some holy ruckus: it’s two sides of the same “be a disruptive Christian” coin. Perhaps, like the street preacher that met me that day, we both read the same passage in Matthew 10 where Jesus says, “Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace but a sword.” For years, I used to find this passage deeply uncomfortable. Surely our peace-loving, “put away your sword”-saying saviour doesn’t want to bring division and discomfort? This was until I realised that Jesus does not call us to be comfortable; he calls us to imagine a radically different way of living. Jesus wants us to disrupt business as usual. Our preacher friend wants to disrupt people’s days by trying to save them; I think we’re called to disrupt the corrupt business of the day.
"We have scripture and a great cloud of witnesses who command us to direct our gaze not only inwards but towards the powers and authorities that cause so much pain and injustice"
In her powerful book Bodies on the Line, Rev Sue Parfitt reminds us that for some Christians, the evangelism of the gospel requires us to be as disruptive as we can. “This is our calling now, today”, she writes, “to give the lead, to be a prophetic voice against the principalities and powers of the world, intent upon the destruction of all that God has made.” Sue Parfitt has taken this literally to mean to throw her own body on the line in the fight for the climate crisis and Palestinian liberation. Her arrest count keeps stacking up, with charges ranging from aggravated trespass to terrorism offences. She seems safe in the knowledge that the good news of the gospel is a disruptive one, calling us to throw our bodies on the line.
All of this makes me ponder: what is the role of Christians in the streets? Are we there to bring peace, to simply be there as a sign of solidarity with the cause, making the other protesters know that we are “not like other Christians”? Is it enough for us to just be there, or do we also need to be willing to be disruptive? Moreover, does it even matter that people know that we’re Christians if our actions can speak for themselves? For so many, the sight of Christians in the street makes them understandably anxious, concerned that we are about to barrage them with a guilt-inducing diatribe. I will admit that I often avoid mentioning that I am a Christian in activist spaces just to avoid these kinds of interactions. Whether I mention my faith or not, I try to remind myself that we have scripture and a great cloud of witnesses who command us to direct our gaze not only inwards but towards the powers and authorities that cause so much pain and injustice.
There is no one way to address the innumerable injustices that we are currently facing; our calling is to pull whatever thread we can. Even so, I often wonder how much bolder our faith would be if more of us were more disruptive. Imagine if our churches took Jesus’ call to disruption seriously, pulled us out of the comfort of our pews and onto the streets. Imagine if we were less invested in the internal church politics (which, let’s be honest, the rest of the world does not care about) and focus on what it means to be, as Rev Parfitt puts it, “ a prophetic voice against the principalities and powers of the world”. Imagine if our preachers told us to pick up a placard, grab a megaphone and head to the arms factory/government building/insert site of horror here. Even better, what if we stopped waiting to be told to do so and just did it… what a bold, disruptive, evangelistic Church we would be!
Naomi Orrell is currently a community member of the London Catholic Worker, an intentional community who run a house of hospitality for destitute asylum seekers. Alongside this, she has been organising with Christians for Palestine, as well as groups fighting for trans liberation and climate justice.