The Growth of Christianity in the World’s First Atheist Country
In the space of three decades, nearly all of Albania’s officially atheist population claimed or reclaimed a religion—by 2018, self-identified atheists dropped to less than 1 percent of the population. People primarily sorted themselves into their family’s pre-communist religions—about 75 percent are now Muslim, 11 percent are Catholic, and 7 percent are Orthodox. While the number of evangelicals expanded from 16 to around 17,000, they’re still less than 1 percent of the population.
When Asim Hamza was growing up in communist Albania in the 1980s, it was the third poorest country in the world. The farm technology hadn’t been updated since the 1920s. Lines for milk stretched 80 people long before dawn. Pharmacies carried nothing but aspirin. Electricity didn’t reliably turn or stay on. Religion was outlawed—making the sign of the cross could land you in jail for three years, owning a Bible was five years.
Hamza had no idea anything was wrong.
The government-controlled television, during the two or three hours it was on each day, showed images of children starving in sub-Saharan Africa. “We were told that was happening everywhere,” Hamza said. “They said, ‘You are the happiest kids in the world.’ And we believed it. We were so thankful to the Communist party leader.”
“I remember I was in a meeting in Holland with all the global missions agencies,” Mansfield said. “At the time, I didn’t know anything. They were talking about what was going on, and I raised my hand. I asked, ‘How many believers are there in the country?’”Back then, “Albania was one of the three most closed countries in the world, along with North Korea and Mongolia,” Campus Crusade for Christ missionary Don Mansfield said. He became Cru’s country director for Albania in 1991, when the communist government began to topple. He’d never been there before.
He was expecting a guesstimate, or maybe a percentage of the population.
“Do you know Sonila?” one person asked.
“Kristi?” suggested someone else.
“Maria is a Christian.”
“People were throwing out names, and I got to 16,” Mansfield said. “Everybody looked around and went, ‘Does anybody else know anyone else?’”
No one did. But today, Mansfield could name hundreds. The Joshua Project estimates there are 17,000 evangelical believers in the country. While half of that growth came in the first decade the country was open, the evangelical growth rate is still nearly twice the rate of the rest of the world (4.6 percent compared to 2.6 percent).
To be sure, “we’re still small, and we’re not significant in the eyes of this world,” Light Church Tirana lead elder and TGC Albanian Council member Andi Dina said. “But we have a big God, and we worship him. We know he’ll build his church, and the gates of hell won’t prevail against it.”“It’s been a remarkable story of seeing what God has done in one lifetime,” said The Orchard Evangelical Free Church senior pastor and TGC Council member Colin Smith, who spoke at the region’s first TGC conference in 2019. “It’s an amazing change.”
World’s First Atheist State
Even before supreme ruler Enver Hoxha declared Albania the world’s first atheist state in 1967, evangelicals were few and far between. The population was primarily Muslim (70 percent, a heritage from the Ottoman Turks), followed by Greek Orthodox (20 percent, primarily along the border with Greece) and Roman Catholic (10 percent, mostly along the sea that separates Albania from Italy).
The evangelical Christians—by one count there were about 100—were largely gathered around a Baptist mission in the city of Korce. But the week after Pearl Harbor, the government kicked all American missionaries out. (Italy, a member of the Axis, was then occupying Albania.)
Foreign missionaries wouldn’t be allowed back for another 50 years. Hoxha, who came to power after World War II, didn’t just believe religion was opium for the masses. He also saw it as an issue of state security—Roman Catholicism meant influence from Italy, Orthodoxy came straight from Greece and Serbia, and Islam meant interference from Turkey. To allow Protestants would mean meddling from the West. Not only was practicing religion illegal, then, but so was believing it.
Hoxha’s enforcers started by burning four Franciscan priests to death, then turned mosques and churches into factories (minarets became chimneys) and shot an elderly Catholic priest for baptizing children. Hundreds of clergy were tortured and imprisoned for decades, forced to do hard labor in mines and sewage canals. Government-produced films that accused clerics of corruption, corroborating with foreign powers, and arranging forced marriages were broadcast over and over on the television channel. Newspapers mocked religious leaders on trial for being traitors.
Eventually, Albania’s borders were sealed so tightly—against both the democratic West and the communist Soviet Union and China—that nobody could get in to see what was going on, much less evangelize.
But that didn’t keep the Bibles out.
By Air and Sea
Albert Kona grew up in the town of Durrës, on the Adriatic Sea. In his childhood photos, you can count his ribs. He remembers his parents getting up at 2:00 a.m. to stand in line for bread or milk.
His family had been Eastern Orthodox, though he didn’t know that. One day, when playing in an antique wooden trunk of his grandmother’s, he found part of an old book with some pages ripped out. In it, he read about Peter and John.
In 1985, an Operation Mobilization (OM) ship anchored 12 miles off the Albanian coast, just far enough out to be in international water. Those on board dropped copies of the Gospel of Mark, freshly translated into Albanian, into gallon-sized ziplock bags. They blew each bag up with air so it would float. Then when the tide was just right, they plopped the Bibles into the water, praying they’d wash up on shore. In Kosovo, OM staff were standing on the banks of rivers that flow into Albania, doing the same thing.He wasn’t the only one to get his hands on Bible stories. After World War II, some American GIs flew over Albania and tossed out Bibles attached to parachutes. Most of them were gathered up by the government, but one man found about 12 chapters from the Gospel of Luke. “He understood who Jesus was and what Jesus had done,” said Kona, who met the man years later, after the country opened up. “He had a true and simple faith.”
“That was about all you could do,” Mansfield said. Some Swiss Christians had tried to smuggle Bibles in on a rare visit, but when they got to the airport, all the Bibles they’d surreptitiously given out were returned to them.
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Religious Liberty without Liberalism
Abraham Kuyper offers one non-liberal route for the state to organize itself in a way that is supportive of the basic truths of the divinely ordained natural law within a system that is more tolerant of diversity than the Constantinian settlement.
Abraham Kuyper, the Invisible Church, and Religious Establishments
Early Protestant politics, according to Abraham Kuyper in his famous lecture “Calvinism and Politics,” was in many ways a product of the Middle Ages, exemplified “in an article of our old Calvinistic Confession of Faith [which] entrusts to the State the task ‘of defending against and of extirpating every form of idolatry and false religion and to protect the sacred service of the Church.’…[and] in the unanimous and uniform advice of Calvin and his epigones, who demanded intervention of the government in the matter of religion.”1. It was indeed a relatively straightforward carrying over of the basic Constantinian settlement which brought “differences in religious matters under the criminal jurisdiction of the government” based on the conviction that there “was only one Church of Christ on earth, and it was the task of the Magistrate to protect that Church from schisms, heresies and sects.”2 Calvin’s view on this is stated succinctly in the Institutes:
[T]o the [civil magistrate] it is assigned, so long as we live among men, to foster and maintain the external worship of God, to defend sound doctrine and the condition of the Church…3
In this system, the state has a responsibility to protect and enforce the whole system of the true religion against all competitors. In such a scheme religious liberty is impossible. It would not even have been comprehensible, much less desired, even if it had it been an option at the time.
Religious liberty, however, is seen as one of the chief blessings of the modern world, at least in those nations that are heirs of traditions stretching back to the Enlightenment. Christians since that time, however, have argued for a variety of positions on religious liberty, many of which are not founded on explicitly Enlightenment foundations. Most such arguments are based primarily on a conviction about the dangers to the church when the state has power to regulate the church’s internal affairs and doctrine, rather than a fear about illegitimate influence from the church on the state. Such arguments—in distinction from ones derived primarily from the philosophical principles of the Enlightenment—make an argument from Scripture, whether it is the correct one or not. This is how it should be: if religious liberty is worth preserving, it is worth preserving on explicitly Christian grounds.
This is where Kuyper’s argument is particularly interesting. He, too, makes an argument for (limited) religious liberty on explicitly theological grounds. He argues on the basis of a central point of Reformed theology, even as he attempts to show that the essentially Constantinian vision of the Reformation regarding the state was partially mistaken. In so doing he argues for a form of religious liberty different from that offered by many Christians today. It may very well be a position that retains some of the beneficial aspects of classic Protestant political thought, while at the same time providing a more realistic vision of religious liberty for the modern world than a straightforward application of the earliest Reformed theology would allow. At the very least it could serve as a springboard for further discussion in this area.
It is the doctrine of the invisible church that Kuyper understands as necessitating a reformulation of the medieval relationship of church and state. If one accepts, as even the earliest Reformed theologians did, “that the Church of Christ can reveal itself in many forms, in different countries; nay, even in the same country, in a multiplicity of institutions” then “immediately everything which was deduced from this unity of the visible church drops out of sight.”4 That is to say, there is not necessarily only one institutional manifestation of the church in a given nation. A core conviction of the Reformed churches is that the visible church is always more or less pure, and that not everyone in it is chosen for salvation in God’s eternal counsel. Therefore, there is an “invisible church” within the visible.5
Kuyper insists, then, that since
in Calvinistic countries a rich variety of all manner of church-formations revealed itself…it follows that we must not seek the true Calvinistic characteristic in what, for a time, it has retained of the old [medieval] system, but rather in that, which, new and fresh, has sprung up from its own root…With Rome the system of persecution issued from the identification of the visible with the invisible Church, and from this dangerous line Calvin departed.”6
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What Difference Does an Inerrant Bible Make?
Written by R.C. Sproul |
Monday, April 11, 2022
At the end of the day, inerrancy is inseparable from Christology. If Jesus didn’t teach this view of Scripture, the argument would be over. The issue is not the sacrosanctity of a book, a “paper pope,” or bibliolatry. The issue at stake is the integrity of the person and work of JesusDoes it matter whether the Bible is errant or inerrant, fallible or infallible, inspired or uninspired? What’s all the fuss about the doctrine of inerrancy? Why do Christians debate this issue? What difference does an inerrant Bible make?
Before answering that question, we should consider in what way inerrancy doesn’t make a difference. The Chicago Statement on Biblical Inerrancy states:
WE AFFIRM that a confession of the full authority, infallibility and inerrancy of Scripture is vital to a sound understanding of the whole of the Christian faith. We further affirm that such confession should lead to increasing conformity to the image of Christ. WE DENY that such confession is necessary for salvation. However, we further deny that inerrancy can be rejected without grave consequences both to the individual and to the church. (Article 19)
The statement strikes a delicate balance. It affirms that the doctrine of inerrancy is “vital to a sound understanding of the whole of the Christian faith” and that to deny it has grave consequences for the individual and the church. However, this statement also makes clear that belief in inerrancy is not necessary for salvation. While inerrancy is crucial for understanding the Christian faith and “increasing conformity to the image of Christ,” a person does not have to hold to it to be a Christian.
The Authority of Christ
But what difference does the inerrancy of Scripture make? Why does it matter? There are many ways in which it matters a great deal. However, ultimately, the inerrancy of Scripture is not a doctrine about a book. The issue is the person and work of Christ.
Allow me to illustrate. Years ago I was speaking in Philadelphia on the question of the authority of Scripture. After my lecture I came down to the front of the church, and I saw a man making his way toward me. Instantly, I recognized his face, even though it had been about twenty years since I’d seen him last. His name was Charlie. We were roommates in college and prayer partners. We made our way through the crowd and embraced one another.
We dismissed ourselves from the conference and went out for dinner. As we sat down, Charlie said to me, “Before we have a conversation, there is something I have to tell you.” I said, “What’s that?” He told me, “I don’t believe any more what I used to believe about Scripture when we were in college together. Back then I believed in inerrancy, but I’ve been to seminary and have been exposed to higher criticism. I just don’t believe that the Bible is inerrant anymore. I wanted to clear the air so that we can go on from there.” I replied, “Fine, Charlie, but let me ask you this. What do you still believe from the old days?” And triumphantly Charlie said, “I still believe that Jesus Christ is my Savior and my Lord.” I was happy to hear that, but then I started to ask questions that clearly made Charlie uncomfortable.
I asked, “Charlie, how is Jesus Lord of your life?” He replied, “What do you mean?” I said, “Well, a lord is someone who exercises authority over you, who gives you marching orders, who has the ability to compel you to obey, and who requires you to submit to obligation and duty. If Christ is your Lord, aren’t you saying He has sovereign authority over you?” “Yeah,” he said.
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CRC Synod 2023: Disguised Gains
Synod, the last two years especially, feels like war. The differing visions for the CRC’s future and the underlying theologies behind the opposing visions collide each year at synod. The conflict does not feel like a friendly game of basketball between family members. The conflict feels like a desperate fight for the soul of the church. The viewpoints are so different that despite the verboten descriptors, there will be winners and losers. The losers will find themselves in a CRC so intolerable that they will have to leave. At synod, the gloves come off because the future of the church is at stake.
Anyone who watched the final day of Synod 2023 in the Christian Reformed Church (CRC) would have been stunned. The log jam of recommendations still to reach the floor led to the decision to postpone the remaining business to 2024. Highly important but contentious topics remained until the following year.
The differing factions within the CRC are increasingly visible at synod. “Conservative” and “liberal” descriptors are so politically charged that matters of Christ’s church become conflated with current political interests. A better term for the conservative faction is confessionalist. Exemplified by “The Abide Project,” these stress confessional identity and hold orthodox views on marriage and sexuality. The liberals would better be called revisionists. “All One Body” would fit into this group. They are more open to revising traditional church stances and new movements of what the Holy Spirit might be doing. They are either in favor of full LGBTQ inclusion or are open to the idea. Then there are moderates who often feel caught in the middle. Their organization is the CRCNA agencies and offices. They tend to be loyal to the CRC brand and averse to ecclesiastical conflict.
Synod 2022
The most contentious matters of Synod 2023 concerned matters from last year. Synod 2022 was a significant blow to the affirming (revisionist?) movement within the CRC. Synod had overwhelmingly voted to “affirm that ‘unchastity’ in Heidelberg Catechism Q&A 108 encompasses adultery, premarital sex, extramarital sex, polyamory, pornography and homosexual sex, all of which violate the seventh commandment. In so doing, synod declares this affirmation ‘an interpretation of [a] confession’ (Acts of Synod 1975, p. 603). Therefore, this interpretation has confessional status.”
Synod 2022 also was firm with Neland Ave CRC in Grand Rapids. In 2020, this congregation ordained a deacon living in a same-sex marriage. Synod overwhelmingly voted to “instruct Neland Ave to immediately rescind its decision to ordain a deacon in a same-sex marriage, thus nullifying this deacon’s term.” Further, synod instructed Neland Ave “to uphold our shared denominational covenants” and tasked the Executive Director to appoint a committee in loco to follow up with Neland Ave and Classis Grand Rapids East, which had refused to intervene. Neland Ave decided to appeal the decision to Synod 2023. Classis Grand Rapids East used the appeal as reason to still not intervene.
Better Together?
Once Synod 2022 drew a hard line on sexuality, the CRC head office became flooded with calls about current officebearers who disagreed with the decision, which led to the release of a FAQ.In February of 2023, a new group emerged, calling themselves “Better Together: A Third Way.” Characterizing the revisionist-confessional debate as another branch of the broader culture wars erupting in the CRC, Better Together wants the CRC to have a “mission-focused, baptismally-based identity that allows for disagreement on ethical issues that do not determine our salvation, such as same-sex marriage…” This is “for the purpose of unity and mission together.” Essentially, the Third Way is unity at all costs. For one side this would be the cost of safe spaces for LGBTQ people. For the other side this would be the cost of having teachers in the CRC using the grace of God as license for immorality.Only days after Better Together appeared, the CRC’s LGBTQ lobby group announced that 11 congregations have made public statements in support of full LGBTQ inclusion.Overtures began to pile up. Many of them asked to reverse the decisions of the prior synod. Particular focus was on reversing the declaration that synod’s definition of “unchastity” has “confessional status.” Some called for responses to Neland Ave and the other 10 congregations with affirming statements. Others asked for leeway for Neland Ave and other affirming congregations as well as officebearers who disagree with Synod 2022’s decision.
Synod 2023
When Synod 2023 finally commenced, the initial days progressed as synods often go.Synod 2023 decided (again) to refuse an overture to adopt Belhar Confession as a full confession. The final speaker before the vote was Christian Sebastia, a pastor originally from Venezuela who condemned the Belhar’s “liberation theology” that would open the door to “blood-red socialism.”Synod decided to make an official statement against assisted suicide. Even speakers from historically revisionist classes spoke against assisted suicide and the need for a statement. A task force will be appointed to draft a report on assisted suicide based on prior synodical statements valuing human life.A proposed “Code of Conduct for Ministry Leaders” with vague language about “harm” was thoroughly revised so that any open-ended language could not be used to limit the teaching of Scripture. After all, God’s Word is sharper than any two-edged sword (Hebrews 4:12). Synod explicitly clarified that this Code is “subservient to Scripture and our Confessions.” Moreover, the Code is “encouraged” (not required) of councils to use for church staff.
All One Body demonstrators daily lined the walkways to and from the dining hall singing “Jesus Loves Me” and “They’ll Know We Are Christians By Our Love” as delegates walked by. The group neared 130 on Wednesday, many holding signs such as, “Avoid Loveless Orthodoxy / Accept God is Love,” “Say ‘All Are Welcome’ … and MEAN IT!”While All One Body whites (is there a better descriptor?) demonstrated outside, inside was a different story. “Several Korean and Latino delegates expressed their positions on human sexuality,” observed Latino Commissioned Pastor Moises Pacheco. “And it seemed to be totally ignored by the delegates speaking in favor of the affirming side even while they continued to claim a desire to advocate for those on the margins. Oddly enough, those on the margins that they were advocating for seemed to be their own friends and family. I’m not sure I have ever felt so ignored.
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