Europe’s Christian Past Meets Europe’s Anti-Christian Present

Christianity shaped Europe: cathedrals rose before nations, monks preserved learning when marauders burned villages, and the Church became the backbone of a civilisation that stumbled and sinned, yet kept rising because it believed life held meaning beyond power and pleasure. Europe grew through that conviction. It gave the continent a conscience, a calendar, and a culture that valued dignity over dominance. For centuries, Christianity provided Europe with a rhythm: feast days shaped the seasons, parish life shaped the towns, and in the darkest hours, when plagues spread and borders shifted, faith gave people a way to endure suffering without surrendering to despair.

How times have changed. Today, the foundation that once held Europe steady is being chipped away. Not by debate or honest disagreement, but by hostility and quiet indifference. The latest report from the Observatory on Intolerance and Discrimination tracking attacks on Christians shows the scale of this shift. More than two thousand anti-Christian hate crimes were recorded across Europe last year. While the total fell slightly from the previous year, the nature of the crimes grew more alarming. Personal attacks rose from 232 to 274. Arson attacks nearly doubled. Churches, monasteries, cemeteries, shrines, and schools were targeted with increasing boldness. France, the UK, Germany, Spain, and Austria saw the highest levels of hostility.

Behind those statistics are real faces and shattered places. A seventy-six-year-old monk murdered in Spain. A worshipper in Istanbul shot dead during Sunday Mass. A Catholic church in France left close to ashes. In Germany, where a third of all church arsons took place, bishops warned that every taboo has now been broken. When believers gather under that kind of threat, Europe can no longer pretend the problem is imaginary.

Violence, however, is only part of the story. Europe is experiencing what Pope Francis once called a “polite persecution”, a pressure that disguises itself as progress. The report highlights cases of silent prayer being treated as a punishable act. Adam Smith-Connor, a British army veteran, was fined thousands of pounds for praying in silence near an abortion facility. There were no placards, no chants, no crowds; only a man standing still in a public place.

Other pressures arrive in more subtle forms. Trigger warnings have been placed on university readings of Scripture. Christian groups applying for EU funds report being screened out for allegedly lacking “inclusiveness”. The University of Sheffield, recently placed a trigger warning on the Bible. Not a fringe passage, not some obscure verse, but the Gospels themselves. Matthew, Mark, Luke, John — all flagged. Even Cain and Abel earned a caution label, as if English Literature students might faint upon hearing that one brother did not like the other very much. The crucifixion is now treated like a plot twist too intense for young scholars. When asked, the university said it was simply using a “content note”.

The case of Finnish parliamentarian Päivi Räsänen shows how far this shift can go. She faced years of prosecutions for expressing beliefs that align with traditional Christian teaching. She was twice acquitted, yet prosecutors are still pushing the case toward the nation’s highest court. The message is unmistakable: believers may speak, but they should be prepared to defend their words in court for as long as the state desires.

The Church has begun to ask Europe for something simple: equal protection. COMECE, the Commission of the Bishops’ Conferences of the European Union, has called for the appointment of an EU coordinator on anti-Christian hatred, similar to positions already created to address hostility toward Jewish and Muslim communities. The initial reaction was surprise. Many in Brussels argued that Christians remain a majority in Europe, therefore, such protection is unnecessary. Yet the rising attacks, both violent and polite, suggest otherwise.

The continent now stands in a curious moment. The faith that once shaped its cities and its politics is now treated as a mild embarrassment, like an elderly relative Europe keeps in the attic. Churches are protected by stone, but not always by law. Christians are told their beliefs are welcome, as long as they speak in a hush, avoid eye contact, and practise the faith with the enthusiasm of someone hiding contraband.

The rise in attacks is not only aimed at believers; it warns that Europe is forgetting the roots that helped it survive its darkest hours. A civilisation that severs itself from its source will not stand for long. Christianity once steadied Europe through invasions, famine, and fire. Now, Europe must choose whether to keep that lamp lit.