Should Christians Go on a March for Jesus?
Question 09072
A March for Jesus, or something like it, comes round in most towns sooner or later, and the invitation usually arrives with an assumption that any serious Christian will want to be there. I have been asked about this many times, often with a second question attached in a lower voice: what about the ones led by Catholic priests?
Both questions are fair, and neither has a one word answer. Scripture nowhere commands a public procession and nowhere forbids one, which places the whole matter in the realm of wisdom rather than command. That does not make it unimportant. It means we have to think rather than react.
What a March for Jesus Is Trying to Achieve
The modern movement began in London in the late 1980s and grew rapidly, at its height involving very large numbers across many countries. The stated aims were usually threefold in spirit: to worship God publicly, to bear witness to a watching town, and to demonstrate that Christians of different congregations belong together. Those are respectable aims and I do not want to sneer at any of them.
The difficulty is that a March for Jesus tends to carry an unstated theology as well. Some organisers have framed such events in terms of claiming territory or breaking spiritual strongholds over a city. That language moves well beyond what the New Testament actually teaches about how the gospel advances, and it deserves examination rather than an automatic welcome.
Is There a Biblical Case for Public Procession?
People sometimes reach for Joshua and the march around Jericho, or for David dancing before the ark, or for the triumphal entry. I would treat all three carefully. Jericho was a specific act of judgement under direct instruction in the conquest of Canaan, not a template for evangelism. David’s procession was Israel’s worship under the Mosaic arrangement. The entry into Jerusalem was the King presenting Himself to His own nation in fulfilment of Zechariah 9:9.
The New Testament pattern for spreading the gospel is different and remarkably consistent. Preaching, reasoning, persuading, house to house teaching, and the visible love of a gathered congregation. Paul went to the synagogue and the marketplace and he talked to people (Acts 17:17). There is no apostolic parade. That absence is not a prohibition, but it should temper any claim that a March for Jesus is a biblical obligation.
The Question of Who Is Leading
Now the harder part, and the one people usually want addressed. Where a March for Jesus is organised or led jointly with Roman Catholic clergy, you are not simply walking down a street with people you disagree with about baptism. You are appearing publicly as a body with an institution that teaches a different way of being justified before God, and the watching town will read that as agreement.
I hold that the basis of Christian fellowship is the gospel of grace, Trinitarian belief and the authority of Scripture. Rome’s official teaching on justification, set out at Trent and never withdrawn, stands against what Paul argues in Romans 3:28 and Galatians 2:16. I can be courteous to a priest, and I have been. I cannot present a joint witness that implies we are preaching the same message when we are not.
That is a judgement about the institution rather than about individuals, and I try to keep the distinction clean. God knows who belongs to Him. But when I stand under a shared banner, I am making a public statement about doctrine whether I intend to or not. I have written at greater length on this in my treatment of ecumenism.
Does It Actually Reach Anybody?
There is a practical question underneath the theological one. What does a passer by conclude? In my observation, most people watching a procession of Christians conclude that Christians exist and are cheerful, which is not nothing, and then go about their day. Very few are brought to conviction of sin by a banner.
Compare that with the effort involved. A March for Jesus can absorb months of planning and a great deal of money, and I have known churches emerge from one exhausted and no closer to a single unconverted neighbour. If the same energy went into sustained personal witness, hospitality, and clear preaching, I suspect the fruit would be greater. That is a judgement about effectiveness, not about sincerity.
The Danger of Mistaking Visibility for Faithfulness
There is a subtle spiritual risk in large public events, and it applies to conferences and rallies as much as to marches. They feel significant. Numbers, noise and a sense of occasion produce genuine emotion, and emotion is easily mistaken for the work of God. Then Monday comes, and the ordinary obedience of loving a difficult neighbour is still waiting.
Jesus told His disciples that the world would know them by their love for one another (John 13:35). Not by their visibility. A congregation that quietly cares for its widows, welcomes the awkward, and speaks about Jesus at work is bearing a witness that outlasts any afternoon in the town centre.
When I Would Be Glad to Take Part
I do not want to leave the impression that I am against every form of public Christian gathering, because I am not. Where an event is organised by churches that preach the same gospel, where the message given from the platform is plainly the message of the cross, and where nobody has agreed to soften anything for the sake of breadth, I would join in with enthusiasm.
I would want to know three things before committing my congregation. Who is speaking and what will they say. What the published basis of faith is. And whether the event exists to proclaim Jesus or to demonstrate our own significance. Ask those questions politely and early, and the answers usually arrive quickly.
Freedom, Conscience and Not Judging Each Other
This is an area where believers of real integrity land in different places, and Romans 14:5 is worth remembering. Each one should be fully convinced in his own mind. I have not made attendance at such events a test of fellowship in my own congregation and I would counsel others not to either.
What I do ask is that people think it through rather than drift. Drifting is how churches end up in partnerships they never consciously chose. A believer who prayerfully decides to walk, and a believer who prayerfully decides to stay away and invite a neighbour for lunch instead, can respect one another entirely.
Counting the Cost Before You Walk
There is a cost to any decision here, and it is worth naming honestly on both sides. If you take part in a March for Jesus that includes bodies whose teaching contradicts the gospel, the cost is a blurred witness that your own congregation will have to live with afterwards. People remember the photograph. Explaining nuance to a town six months later is difficult work.
If you decline, the cost is different but no less real. You will be thought unloving, sectarian, or difficult to work with, and some of that judgement will come from believers you respect. I have felt that and I do not enjoy it. The temptation at that point is to go along in order to keep the peace, and a decision made for that reason is not a decision at all.
So do the thinking early, before the invitation arrives with a deadline attached. Work out with your fellow leaders what your congregation can and cannot join, and put it in writing so that a future March for Jesus does not have to be argued from scratch under time pressure. A settled policy, kindly explained, protects relationships far better than an awkward refusal three days before the event.
And when you explain your position, explain it to the organisers personally rather than by absence. I would far rather ring a fellow minister and say that we cannot share a platform on this occasion, and tell him plainly why, than simply fail to turn up. A March for Jesus organised in good faith deserves a straight answer, and straight answers preserve friendships that silence destroys.
So, now what?
If a March for Jesus is being planned where you live, ask for the doctrinal basis of the event in writing before you commit. Ask who will speak and what the gospel content will be. Those are not hostile questions and any well run event will answer them readily.
Then ask yourself the harder question. Is this the most loving and effective use of the time, money and energy God has given our congregation for reaching this town? Sometimes the answer will be yes. Often, in my judgement, a term of consistent hospitality and plain preaching will do more. It may help to read what I have said about churches and public engagement alongside this.
Whatever you decide, decide it for reasons you could explain to an unbelieving colleague without embarrassment. Could you?
So faith comes from hearing, and hearing through the word of Christ. But I ask, have they not heard? Indeed they have, for their voice has gone out to all the earth, and their words to the ends of the world.
Romans 10:17-18 (ESV)
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