No Christmas in Italy?

Imagine a December without seasonal decor, special treats, parties with friends, or a nativity. In other words, imagine a December without Christmas.

For many evangelicals in Italy, that is exactly how it should be.

Not celebrating Christmas — nor Easter — is a way to distinguish themselves from a Catholic holiday that they feel has lost any real meaning or focus on Jesus. It is a way, they say, to assert their identity by opposition to the status quo.

According to a 2023 survey by Ipsos (a France-based research center), over two-thirds of Italy’s residents are Christian (68%), with 61% saying they are Catholic, just 4% Protestant, and 3% identifying as “other Christians.” Over a quarter of Italians are non-religious (28%).

Evangelicals in Italy feel that as a small minority, Christian identity has been largely defined not by who they are, but who they are not — not Roman Catholic, not theologically liberal, not culturally secular. “In such a situation, evangelicals feel a need to better assert their identity based on core Gospel essentials rather than on cultural features,” says JD Gilmore, a church planter in Palermo and coordinator of Impatto (Acts 29 in Italy).

That is why Donato Trovarelli says he skips the aperitivi, the Christmas eel, the panettone and other trappings of what is often held up as Christianity’s biggest holiday. The charismatic author of three books says traditions in Italy have nothing to do with “born again” evangelicals. That is why, Trovarelli says evangelicals and Pentecostals like him “drive out of our places of worship all the traditions of the tree, the nativity scene, the figure of Santa Claus, Jesus as a child, and every other popular tradition of any non-Christian nature or religion.”

Sins of the fathers: How German evangelicals are confronting antisemitism, past and present

“The Grandchildren, The Dialogue” (Die Enkel, Der Dialog) event was meant to be a chance for the people of Eisenach, a town of 42,000 in the central German state of Thuringia, to reflect on their collective Nazi past. 

Part of a series of events focused on “interreligious and intercultural dialogue,” the event brought together public personalities in Eisenach’s St. George Church to discuss how their families addressed Germany’s antisemitic past and how they could confront it today.

Bodo Ramelow, Minister-President of the Thuringia State Parliament, said his family simply did not talk about it. “I only found out my family’s involvement with National Socialism later, in pieces,” he said.

Worried about this historical neglect, Ramelow said, “we thought antisemitism was gone, but it never really left. We just stopped talking about it and now, it’s back out in the open.” 

Despite the nation’s “Culture of Remembrance” (Erinnerungskultur), antisemitism is still a problem in Germany. The Department of Research and Information on Antisemitism Berlin’s (RIAS Berlin) most recent report recorded a total of 410 anti-Semitic incidents in the first half of 2020.

The most recent prominent attack occurred in 2019 in the eastern city of Halle when a gunman killed two people outside a synagogue during the observance of Yom Kippur, the Jewish Day of Atonement. 

While some blame far-right politics or Germany’s Muslim community, data shows multiple sectors of society bear responsibility for the rise in antisemitic incidents, including Christians. 

Data such as this has recently forced Christians to reconsider how their communities respond to anti-Semitism, or whether they address it at all.

Although sources say that churches have long sidestepped the issue, many are learning to confront the history of Christian complicity in the greatest sins of the nation’s past and build better Jewish-Christian relationships in the present. 

Refugee Converts Aren’t ‘Fraudsters': the Fraught Politics of Convert Asylum in Germany

When you visit Trinity Lutheran Church in the Berlin district of Steglitz you’re going to meet a lot of different people, from all over the world: the German woman who thinks Mississippi is the greatest place in the world, the family from Bangladesh who comes to the English-language service every other week, the pastor — Rev. Dr. Gottfried Martens — who has learned Farsi in addition to English and German in order to minister to his community.

Then, you might get to know the hundreds of men and women who have found sanctuary at Trinity, seeking to remain in Germany and not be sent home to places as diverse as Iran, Iraq, Afghanistan, or elsewhere.

This is a community whose lives are in limbo. They’ve applied for asylum on the basis of their conversion to Christianity and they claim that they will face religious, social, and political repercussions if forced to return to their countries of origin. Some fear for their lives.

Between 20,000 and 40,000 refugees are seeking asylum in Germany on the grounds of religious persecution because of their conversion to Christianity, according to a 2019 Open Doors report. Amid sharp national debates about anti-refugee sentiment, religious literacy, and religious freedom, a number of evangelical leaders have called for changes to the process of officially evaluating refugee conversion.

Currently, the Federal Office for Migration and Refugees (BAMF) judges the sincerity of conversion and the severity of potential threats to asylum seekers’ lives. There is, however, a lack of explicit standards, clear criteria, or legal precedent for these examinations, and the BAMF grants asylum at significantly different rates in different parts of the country.

To say the least, this issue is fraught with multiple angles, opinions, and perspectives to consider. The process is mired by Islamophobic assumptions, a supposedly secular and neutral state making decisions in matters of religion, and the messy and mysterious question of “authentic faith.”

But for those seeking asylum, the issue is clear — “I’ve converted and my conversion puts my life, and the lives of those I love, in danger. I need asylum in Germany.”

Reporting on the topic for Christianity Today, I spoke with refugee converts, local pastors, evangelical leaders, scholars of Islamic law, government ministers, immigration authorities, and everyday Germans about how the issues around the question of judging asylum cases might be untangled.

The end result is that there is no clear answer, no silver bullet, no rubric that can be universally applied. Blame for the inefficiencies and failures of the process cannot be easily allocated — it isn’t an “Islam” problem, a secular government problem, or an evangelical Christian problem. It’s a shared problem, one that must activate multiple stakeholders with varying perspectives, postures, and positions on faith, the state, and religious freedom.

Nonetheless, in the course of my reporting, I did sense that there is the possibility for legal experts, politicians, government ministers, pastors, and religious actors to work together to seek the best solution for those involved.

These questions are not going to go away on their own. Instead, as the church body at Trinity Lutheran Church in Steglitz testifies, we are likely to continue to confront such questions in the years to come given the ongoing entanglement of people, traditions, and nations across the world.

Germany’s struggle offers a telling case-study for the issues we might encounter and the possibilities that lie before us. Perhaps, there is a “third way” that religious actors and the secular state can walk together to protect human rights and maintain peace and order.

Time will tell. For now, take a moment to explore an issue that is far more complex than it at first appears.

Come, let us wear face masks in worship: Lockdown measures eased, but Christians struggle with coronavirus restrictions

Franziska König always enjoys getting a note from her pastor. Even so, she never expected to get one like she did last week.

“The message started out normally, asking me how I am doing,” König said, “how I am fairing in these terrible times and so on.”

Then, her pastor told her that their small evangelical church in Berlin was going to reopen after being closed for weeks due to the COVID-19 pandemic. That was good news.

“But it was weird when he said I would have to make ‘reservations’ for my family to have a spot on Sunday,” said König. “That’s certainly never happened before.”

König and her congregation are not alone in navigating a “new normal” for worship gatherings as lockdown limits ease across Germany.

While Germany’s federal government makes plans for tracing infection chains and reopening public facilities, churches across Germany are developing their own plans for how to restart worship with new regulations such as compulsory face masks, the prohibition of physical contact, and restrictions on congregational singing.

Questions about singing, more than anything else, have caused consternation among evangelicals in Germany. Perhaps this comes as no surprise. It was the German reformer Martin Luther, after all, who said that “next to the Word of God, music deserves the highest praise.”

However, Lothar Wieler, the head of Germany’s top health research organization—the Robert Koch Institute (RKI)—strongly advised against communal singing of any kind while there are still fears about the spread of the coronavirus. Wieler explained in the official biweekly COVID-19 press conference that “evidence shows that during singing, the virus drops appear to fly particularly far.”

Some even say that singing is a “super-spreader.”

O For a Global Tongue to Sing: Why German Evangelicals Are Praising God in English

English is the first thing you notice at Hillsong Berlin. The church was meeting at the Kino in der Kulturbrauerei—a movie theater in a historic brewery, just one tram stop from the last standing section of the Berlin Wall—but on Sunday night the sign out front said, “Welcome Home.” A smiling cadre of young, fashionable, and diverse volunteers from around the world greeted people in accented English.

Inside, the entire service is in English, including the sermon and all the worship songs. Participants sing “Wake,” “What a Beautiful Name,” and “King of Kings.” Most international Hillsong churches translate their services from the local language into English. In Berlin, there is no translation. The service is just in English. That isn’t Hannah Fischer’s first language, but that’s part of why she comes to Hillsong Berlin.

“People from outside Germany can’t really understand how awkward it is to be Christian here,” she said. “I could never praise God like that in my language.”

Five hundred years ago, Martin Luther insisted that Christians needed to hear the gospel in their own language, in words they could understand. When the Reformation swept Germany, people abandoned Latin worship for German prayers and praise.

Today, however, German Christians like Fischer are turning from their own language to a more global tongue: English. They say the foreign language allows them to loosen their German identity, praise God in an uninhibited way, and connect with a global, cosmopolitan Christianity.

How to Brexit Like a Christian: British Evangelicals Brace for Brexit

British evangelicals are divided over Brexit. The January 31 deadline for the nation’s departure from the European Union is fast approaching, and Thursday’s elections gave the Conservative Party a historic victory and “a powerful new mandate to get Brexit done,” according to Prime Minister Boris Johnson. As evangelicals absorb the news, they are grappling with the political tumult, the ongoing uncertainty, and the question of what a Christian should do in these difficult times.

In my first piece for Christianity Today’s News & Reporting section, I talked to leading experts and everyday evangelicals about prayer, prophecy, and hospitality in the ever-changing scene of British Brexit politics.