In many corners of our region, the word “Christianization” sends shivers down spines. It evokes images of cultural erosion, foreign agendas, and identity loss. But rarely does anyone pause to ask, why this fear exists—or what it actually means. It’s not just theology under scrutiny. It’s memory. It’s dignity. It’s survival.
The Hidden Layers Beneath the Fear
To understand the fear of Christianization, one must first understand a deeper dynamic at play: the difference between public and private Islam. In public, Islam is often tethered tightly to cultural, political, and even economic systems. It’s a matter of family honor, national identity, and societal stability. But in private—behind the curtain of social expectations—faith can be deeply personal, complex, even conflicted.
A friend once said to me, “In public, I defend Islam. In private, I wrestle with God.” That sentence, spoken in a whisper, reveals a world many outsiders never see. The mosque is full on Fridays, yes—but the questions, the doubts, the dreams? They fill the bedrooms at night.
So when someone feels that Christianization is coming, it is not merely fear of a religious shift. It is fear of exposure. Fear of being publicly shamed. Fear that their private struggles, already so difficult to carry, will be forced into the light in ways that dishonor their family, tribe, or nation.
The Language Teacher in Amman
Several years ago, a local language teacher in Amman befriended a Christian expat. They often shared meals, laughed about the quirks of their respective cultures, and talked about faith in ways that felt safe and mutual.
But one day, the teacher’s cousin saw them talking outside a café. By nightfall, rumors had spread. The teacher was confronted by his family: “Are you becoming a Christian?” His response was not theological—it was survival: “No! Never!”
The next time they met, he said to his Christian friend: “I enjoy our conversations, but you cannot be seen with me anymore. They think you are trying to Christianize me. My father is watching.”
Was he rejecting the message? No. He was protecting his place in society. This is the space we work within—not opposition, but tension. Not rejection, but risk.
So How Do We Walk This Tightrope?
- Honor First, Always
Approach every conversation with respect for the culture, history, and lived experience of the other. Dismissal is often the fruit of dishonor. If your tone feels like conquest, you’ve already lost. - Speak to the Private, Respect the Public
Understand that public religion protects people from shame. Don’t tear that shield away. Instead, build trust in private spaces where honesty can bloom without fear of exposure. - Share, Don’t Sell
If your message feels like a sales pitch, it will be rejected like one. Share your story. Tell how you encountered grace, mercy, and transformation—not how they should. - Let Questions Lead
The most powerful moments come not when we answer questions, but when we allow them. Plant a seed and step back. The soil of the heart is tilled by hunger, not pressure.
Viral Insight: It’s Not About Winning an Argument
The most viral stories are not the ones that win debates. They’re the ones that win hearts. The fear of Christianization isn’t defeated by apologetics—it is disarmed by empathy. When someone feels seen, known, and safe, their heart opens. That’s when truth walks in quietly, like a friend, not a soldier.
The Gospel has always moved forward—not by bulldozing culture—but by walking alongside it, feet dusty, eyes on the King. And when that walk is slow, humble, and respectful, it’s astonishing how many people are willing to join the journey.
The Basin and Towel 