No, evangelism isn’t a human rights violation

When Vice President J.D. Vance said in the fall of 2024 that he hoped his wife, Usha, would one day convert from Hinduism to Catholicism, the comments drew swift backlash. At a Turning Point event, Vance remarked, “Do I hope that eventually she is somehow moved by what I was moved by in church? Yeah, honestly, I do wish that, because I believe in the Christian Gospel, and I hope eventually my wife comes to see it the same way.”

Critics quickly accused him of disrespect, intolerance, and even spiritual imperialism, and the criticism has continued.

In a recent Wall Street Journal opinion piece, Avatans Kumar, president of the nonprofit INDICA, an institute for Indian knowledge systems, renewed the argument. He asserted that people have “a right to stay in their religion and not be bothered by those who wish to convert them.” Kumar added, “There is a disconnect in human-rights discourse. The right to change religion is unqualified by its nature, but the right to try to change someone’s religion can’t be unqualified without interfering with and violating others’ religious freedom.”

On one level, his point is understandable. No one supports manipulation, coercion, or fake conversions driven by politics or force. Genuine belief cannot be manufactured through intimidation.

However, forced conversions, such as those seen during the Crusades, are contrary to the core teachings of Christianity. Jesus never commanded His followers to put a sword to someone’s throat and demand allegiance.

Instead, Jesus commanded: “Go therefore and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I commanded you” (Matt. 28:19–20). This reveals an uncomfortable truth that modern culture often seeks to avoid: Christianity is, by its very nature, evangelistic.

This call to evangelize is not rooted in arrogance or a love of confrontation. It comes from a belief that is both terrifying and glorious: that eternity is real.

If Jesus Christ truly rose from the dead, if salvation is available only through Him, and if eternal separation from God is a real possibility, then silence is not compassion. To leave non-Christians in what believers consider a state of error is the opposite of love; it is indifference.

Atheist Penn Jillette understands this perspective. He once disclosed:

I don’t respect people who don’t proselytize. I don’t respect that at all. If you believe that there’s a heaven and a hell, and people could be going to hell or not getting eternal life, and you think that it’s not really worth telling them this because it would make it socially awkward… how much do you have to hate somebody to not proselytize? How much do you have to hate somebody to believe that everlasting life is possible and not tell them that? I mean, if I believed, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that a truck was coming at you, and you didn’t believe that truck was bearing down on you, there is a certain point where I tackle you. And this is more important than that.

Jillette’s statement cuts through modern religious niceties. Our culture suggests the loving thing is to leave people alone. Christianity says the loving thing is to tell the truth, even when it is uncomfortable and may initially create friction, as the Apostle Paul asked: “So have I become your enemy by telling you the truth?” (Gal. 4:16).

To avoid making enemies, Christians are called to deliver this truth respectfully. As Paul described, “we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God were making an appeal through us; we beg you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God” (2 Cor. 5:20). The motivation is a belief that “he who turns a sinner from the error of his way will save his soul from death” (James 5:20) and that “the fruit of the righteous is a tree of life, and he who is wise wins souls” (Prov. 11:30).

This mission also involves a solemn responsibility, as described to the prophet Ezekiel: “When I say to the wicked, ‘You will surely die,’ and you do not warn him or speak out to warn the wicked from his wicked way that he may live, that wicked man shall die in his iniquity, but his blood I will require at your hand” (Ezek. 3:18).

Christianity was never intended to be a privatized spirituality hidden within church walls. The first Christians preached publicly despite imprisonment, threats, and execution. In Acts 5, when authorities ordered the apostles to stop speaking about Jesus, their response was blunt: “We must obey God rather than men” (Acts 5:29).

This points to the real issue underlying the modern discomfort with evangelism. Christianity makes universal truth claims, not just personal preference pronouncements. Christians are not saying, “Jesus works for me.” They are saying, “Jesus is Lord.”

Kumar addresses this in his article, stating, “At the heart of proselytizing is exclusivity.” He is right. And in the modern world, few things are more offensive than universal truth claims.

Today’s highest cultural commandment is not holiness, truth, or even love. It is non-interference. Stay silent. Keep faith private. Never imply someone else could be wrong. Never disrupt another’s spiritual comfort.

An old story often told in Christian circles concerns the 19th-century English criminal Charles Peace as he was being led to his execution. When a minister spoke to him about Hell and judgment, Peace reportedly replied, “Sir, if I believed what you and the Church of God say that you believe… I would crawl the length of England over broken glass to warn men.”

If that story is unsettling, it may be because it exposes a contradiction many of us live with: claiming to believe in eternity while rarely speaking of it. The early church did not spread because its members were socially polished. It spread because they were convinced.

They were convinced that Christ rose, that judgment was real, that mercy was available, and that silence would be loveless.

Too often, we fear being labeled intolerant more than we fear disobeying Christ. We carefully protect our reputations, our comfort, and our social standing while the clearest commands of Jesus gather dust.

In the end, if Christians truly believe what they claim, then evangelism is not a human rights violation, as Kumar asserts. It is an act of compassion and mercy—one for which the person you are speaking to may thank you in eternity.