Where Is the Evidence?
As Christians, we've all heard the thought-provoking question:
If you were put on trial for being a follower of Christ, would there be enough evidence to convict you?
It's more than a rhetorical challenge—it’s a mirror we’re meant to look into.
Because one day, that question will no longer be hypothetical. It will be real.
Jesus makes this clear in the parable of the talents (Matthew 25:14–30), where each servant is held accountable for how they handled what the Master entrusted to them. In the same way, Paul warns us in 2 Corinthians 5:10:
“For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each one may receive what is due for what he has done in the body, whether good or evil.”
So I ask again—where is the evidence? Does your life reflect the faith you profess? Is there fruit that unmistakably points to Christ in you?
Paul urges us again in 2 Corinthians 13:5:
“Examine yourselves, to see whether you are in the faith. Test yourselves. Or do you not realize this about yourselves, that Jesus Christ is in you?—unless indeed you fail to meet the test!”
As I take a step back and view Christianity from outside our familiar bubble, I can’t help but ask the hard question again: Where is the evidence?
Where Is the Joy?
It doesn’t take long, sitting in many church gatherings, to sense that something is missing.
People often seem guarded, uncomfortable—even burdened. What’s absent is the radiant, unmistakable joy that comes from truly knowing Christ.
Where is the joy of discovering the greatest treasure of all?
Instead of joy rooted in Jesus, the atmosphere often feels like a mixture of duty, distraction, or surface-level enthusiasm. And when someone does seem joyful, a closer conversation may reveal it isn’t joy in Christ—but joy in something circumstantial or personal.
Sometimes, it feels less like worship and more like a well-rehearsed performance.
But shouldn’t those who’ve encountered the risen Savior radiate something more—something real?
Where Is the Passion?
Spend time around believers, and it quickly becomes clear what ignites their passion: family, friends, careers, hobbies, sports, music, and future plans.
Their eyes light up when talking about vacations or goals.
But where is the passion for Christ?
Where is the fire to live—and even die—for the faith we claim to hold?
Where is the urgency for lost souls?
Where is the longing to see people encounter the saving power of Jesus?
We so easily pour our hearts into what fades. But do we burn with love for the One who gave everything for us?
Where Is the Faith?
Where is the faith that believes God still moves hearts by His Spirit—without manipulation or performance?
Where is the faith that Christ alone can build His Church—without our schemes, strategies, or marketing tactics? That He doesn’t need us to dilute the message to make it more appealing? That He adds to His Church by His power alone?
Where is the faith that still believes mountains move?
If we would simply yield—truly yield—and let His Spirit work through us, He could change the world.
True life in Christ begins where self ends. All we need to do is get out of the way.
Where Is the Courage?
I still remember my very first job. I worked hard, gave it everything—only to be pulled aside by a long-time employee who said,
“Slow down. You’re making the rest of us look bad. We don’t get paid enough for that kind of effort.”
That stuck with me.
Years later, I entered ministry with the same fire—ready to go anywhere and do anything Christ asked of me. But instead of being encouraged, I was advised to “tone it down” and be more “measured” in my faith.
I understand that zeal without wisdom can be reckless. But I wasn’t being reckless—I was simply willing.
Willing to follow Christ without hesitation.
Over time, I realized the concern wasn’t that I was too extreme. It was that my passion made others uncomfortable. It exposed a lack of fire in the room.
The concern wasn’t for my well-being—it was for the church’s image. Leaders were afraid of lawsuits, of offending people, or of losing attendees—and with them, financial support.
So where is the courage to stand against the world?
The courage to reject its ways—not just in word, but by living out God’s kingdom boldly and openly?
Each day, we’re called to live, act, and move in ways that build the Kingdom—not the world.
So again I ask—where is the courage? The courage to live boldly for Christ, no matter the cost?
Where Is the Heart?
Where is the heart to examine ourselves in the light of God’s truth? To be questioned, transparent, and vulnerable—knowing Christ holds us, protects us, and accepts us?
Where is the heart to be real, even if it means showing our struggles?
Where is the heart to reach for the highest in Christ—to run the race with resolve, refusing to settle for less?
Where is the heart that stops making excuses and starts pursuing genuine transformation?
Where Is the Fruit?
Where is the Christ-like fruit flowing from us into the lives around us?
Where is the love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control?
Where is the light that shines and the salt that seasons, in a world gripped by darkness?
Where Is Our Willingness to Say, “Imitate Me”?
Where is the boldness to say, like Paul, “Follow me, as I follow Christ”?
Where is the confidence that others will see not perfection—but pursuit? Not ego, but earnestness?
How can we make disciples if we’re not living as disciples ourselves? We cannot lead others where we are unwilling to go.
Where Is Our Death?
Where is our willingness to die to self?
Where is the desire to crucify the flesh, to surrender our opinions, dreams, and ambitions—and lay them at the feet of Jesus?
Where is the resolve to let go of worldly thinking and be shaped by Kingdom-minded hearts and minds?
True life begins where self ends. So again I ask—where is our death?
In Summary
Where is the evidence that would convict us as true followers of Christ?
Will we wait until Heaven to offer our proof?
By then, it will be too late—and if there’s no evidence now, we won’t be found faithful… only faithless.
