Do We Really Deserve to be called a Christian?

This morning, God led me to the story of Simon of Cyrene, an African man who was simply visiting the countryside when he was pulled into a moment he never expected. When Jesus could no longer carry His cross—beaten and tortured beyond recognition—the Roman soldiers ordered Simon to help Him complete His final journey to Golgotha.

At first, I didn’t understand why God brought me to this passage. The Bible often connects this act to the Christian duty to take up our own cross and share in Christ’s suffering. Yet I wrestled with Simon’s story. I didn’t see his action as a willing sacrifice; he carried the cross because he was commanded to by the Roman soldiers.

What I struggled with even more was how so many people—people who had witnessed Jesus’ miracles, His compassion, His love—could stand by and watch Him being beaten until the skin fell from His body. How could they, especially His disciples, stand as spectators while He was whipped, pierced in His hands, side, and feet? How could they watch as His head bled from the thorns pressed deep into His skull?

Jesus was their teacher, their friend, their confidant, their Savior. Yet none of them rushed to help Him. None volunteered to carry His cross. They simply stood there watching. These were the same men who knew exactly who He was, even if the others still questioned His authority and divinity.

As I sat with that image, disgusted and heartbroken, God helped me understand something deeper.

It is no different today. Just as people once turned away from the suffering of Christ, so too do we turn away from the suffering of others. People have witnessed the brutal killings of Black men and women and turned their backs as if it were not happening. It is the same hypocrisy that exists in many churches—where we sit on Sundays listening to the Word, yet by Monday morning, it’s as if we never heard it.

Preachers, priests, ministers, and bishops proclaim God’s truth from the pulpit, yet some commit unspeakable acts against the very souls they are called to shepherd.

And are we not all guilty in our own way? Do we not dishonor Jesus’ sacrifice every time we ignore His Word? When we cling to self-loathing and guilt, forgetting that Jesus came to make us free? When we refuse to forgive because our pride demands justice? When we call on God only in our time of need, rather than out of true faith and trust—are we not like Simon, carrying the cross out of obligation rather than devotion?

How are we different from those bystanders who watched Jesus suffer? When we doubt His promises, when we judge others, when we choose hate over love, or when we cower in fear instead of standing in faith—are we not doing the same? How are we different when we witness cruelty and stay silent?

To be Christian is to be Christlike. Yet how many who wear the title truly live like Him? How many love those who carry the stain of life's trauma and shame? How many are willing to walk the dusty roads to share a message of hope rather than sit in comfort, measuring success by houses, cars, and bank accounts?

How many would feed five thousand with what little they have, rather than worry about their own full refrigerator? How many would overturn the tables of hypocrisy and greed in defense of God’s truth and love, regardless of the cost to their reputation or position?

How many would willingly endure pain, persecution, or even death to stand for what is right—to stand for people?

I believe many would not. And so, I ask: do we truly deserve to carry the name Christian?