I always feel a little trepidation before admitting to someone that I’m a Christian. It’s not that I’m ashamed of the fact — quite the opposite — but more that I expect others not to want to hear about it, nor to have a particularly good impression of what being a Christian means.

Yet not everyone seems to feel such trepidation. In fact, being “Christian” appears to have become an increasingly popular status symbol in some quarters — such as, for example, among candidates for the Republican Party in the US, famous new converts like Russell Brand, or those on the far-right seeking to “preserve our British values”, including us being “a Christian country”.

But what does that actually mean, is it really true, and, if so, is it something of which we should be proud? 

It’s certainly the case that much of modern society in the West owes a lot to the Christian faith, as evidenced in Tom Holland’s brilliant book, Dominion. But does that alone make us “Christian”?

What would a Christian country actually look like, were one to exist? Is America — and especially Republican America — more “Christian” simply because they talk about Christianity more often in the public sphere?

Perhaps to answer these questions we should consider what the word “Christian” actually means.

In the Bible, the first use of the term came about amidst the persecution of a small but growing band of believers in Jesus’ death and resurrection, who had previously been known simply as “followers of The Way”, because of Jesus’ famous claim to be “the way”, as well as “the truth and the life”.

Therefore, at first at least, being “a Christian” simply meant being someone who intended to follow in the Way of Jesus, mimicking his life and actions.

I think it’s fairly well agreed upon that Jesus was probably a pretty decent chap, so does that mean that Christians, firstly, ought to be generally quite nice?

I’m reminded of the old Eddie Izzard sketch from Dress to Kill, in which he portrayed a church leader as a floppy figure, who warmly welcomes his solitary visitor to church by imploring them to “do come in”, as they’re “the only one today!”, before explaining that his sermon for the day will be taken from a magazine found in a nearby hedge. Another famous caricature is found in the socially awkward and generally irritating Ned Flanders from The Simpsons.

Then there’s the “judgmental Christian” — perhaps the most common stereotype — with the assumption being that to be a Christian means only to be against a lot of things, whether that be same-sex marriage, abortion or what have you.

While it’s certainly true that the Church holds strong — albeit divergent — positions on those subjects, do any of the above descriptions define what Jesus would have hoped for his disciples when he first called them to follow his Way?

It means, most of all, being someone who seeks to follow Jesus’ example of grace, love and forgiveness

In my opinion, as someone who has been attempting — with varying degrees of success — to follow Jesus’ Way for nearly 25 years now, being a Christian is not reducible to your demeanour and is definitely not reducible to your politics. It means, most of all, being someone who seeks to follow Jesus’ example of grace, love and forgiveness.

Those are the sorts of attributes that I am proud to identify with, and would make me proud to call myself a Christian. And yet, while the general consensus appears to be that to be a Christian is to be judgmental, meek, or even just mildly irritating, I feel reticent in opening up about my faith.

Yet meanwhile, my very work, as an employee of a Christian charity, identifies me as such. And, in fact, it is in the people I write about — persecuted Iranian Christians — in whom I truly find reason to feel pride about what the Christian faith can look like, when done properly.

Perhaps it’s because, like those earliest “followers of the Way”, these Christians are being forced to endure persecution, such as the 62-year-old pastor just released after being forced to spend a year in Evin Prison because he had held Bible studies in his home. 

At least 20 Christians remain in prison in Iran simply for choosing to follow in the way of Christ.

I wonder how the people who wear religiosity like a badge would think about their faith if public expression of it was prohibited — if aligning yourself with Christianity had no political grifts and great personal costs. And I know which country’s Christians, in my view, most truly show themselves to be followers of Jesus’ Way. Spoiler alert — it isn’t ours.