Christians are living in the longest moment of silence in American history.

We call our “moment” of silence tolerance. Reasonableness. Christian love. But the truth is, many of us are afraid of being marginalized for following Christ openly. We’re uncomfortable when some intensely passionate believer pushes buttons that ignite controversies. We shush them up, so that people don’t think all Christians are “like that.”  

Broad-minded, even effusive in our acceptance of everybody’s perspectives, we use our God-given freedom to keep our Christian beliefs to ourselves. And sadly, by our silence we give educators, politicians, and corporations the power to shape our future. By our silence we say that our Bible-based convictions are no more right for society than anyone else’s convictions.   

Every year I vote my conscience to calm the passion inside me. Something in my soul is screaming, but I haven’t said a word. When I feel offended, or incensed at some perversity floating on the “regulated” airwaves, I reach deeply into my soul and simply turn it off. It’s what tolerant Christian people do, and I’ve been doing it for decades, especially if an issue seems too unwieldy and complicated to change.

I turned off my indignation when black-robed men replaced corporate prayer with a “moment of silence” in schools. Christian teachers yearn to lead tender-hearted children to Jesus, knowing that students will be our nation’s politicians, judges, and voters someday. Because of my silence, teachers now work within a rigid system that degrades the Christian world view.

I turned off my outrage while academics replaced Biblical creation with the theory of evolution, which infiltrates virtually all student curriculum today. Due to my long moment of silence, my grandchildren needlessly wrestle with the Biblical view of the origins of man, the resurrection of Christ, and may ignore Christian principles to guide them.

I turned off my disgust as politicians (some that I voted for!) refused to defend Christians when the media labeled us haters, because we hold a traditional view of marriage.

No groundswell of convictions looks pretty, and Christian silence-breakers have always ruffled feathers. In the public arena, we may stumble through interviews, and trip over political correctness. Our revolt against silence may even be led by bearded men who hunt ducks. 

I echo our president’s sentiments at his last news conference of the year when he said: “I firmly believe 2014 can be a breakthrough year for America.”

I’m heartened as I join a rising thunder of voices that can change our culture. Perhaps our long moment of Christian silence is over.