For the Christians of Mosul, Iraq, Jesus Christ isn’t a benevolent teacher whose words remind them to be nice. He is the Savior who opened the doors of eternity to them, and whose name they are willing to give their very lives to proclaim.

“We were angry. We were afraid. But we were also happy … Our faith is more important than everything else.”

These words come from Archbishop Amel Nona, the shepherd of these Christians. But his home diocese no longer exists, and his people are scattered — many of them on church property in Jordan, living in storage containers and other makeshift homes, having fled ISIS. The Chaldean Church has since reassigned Nona, a native Iraqi, to Australia, where “they are keeping me busy.”

As he talks with me in New York City, there is, of course, an expected and appropriate sadness on his face, but also an overwhelming joy — the kind that comes from the peace of knowing you’re doing God’s will, that your life has the kind of meaning and purpose people crave, and often look for in all the wrong places.

I’d even go so far as to say that before me is a happy man. Indeed, he tells me, “We were always a minority. We always knew it was not important what we have, but what we do. The Lord shows us how it is important to be happy in all situations.”

Talking more about identity, he emphasizes that the Christian has no other identity than as a Christian. The Gospel is what you want to conform your life to, he says.

“For us, we want to practice our identity. … Our identity is to live like Jesus Christ.” Christ becomes everything, and so there is no life without Christ, he says. “I think all our problems lie in this point: that in our life, sometimes we forget to live like Jesus. It’s not theology, it’s reality.”

That’s an epidemic common to East and West.

While Nona admits it’s heartbreaking to have to flee your home, for lives to be at risk, he still radiates gratitude: “We thank God for everything because (the Christian refugees) are still alive; they still have a very strong faith. We thank God for that.”

Nona has been at an event in New York, talking about how his people wouldn’t consider walking away from their faith. I totally play devil’s advocate and ask him if he’s really fessing up. Surely there were some hard conversations with people who thought they could keep their Christianity in the shadows, or renounce their faith outright, to keep their families’ homes.

No, there were not, he insists.

He talks about the importance of living with love over fear. It was just over a year ago now that ISIS beheaded 21 Coptic Christian men. Their families had words of forgiveness, deep compassion desiring the conversion of those who had murdered their loved ones.

“We fight them by living the Christian life.”

This is who Christians are. It’s why, frankly, Pope Francis denounces the “wall-building” rhetoric as not of the Gospel. If we’re stuck in anger, vengeance and fear, we’re not giving out of an overflow of love. That’s not a political platform or a policy position, but a posture that can make for the peace of the world.

“I remember when I was in Mosul, going to church could mean going to die,” says Nona. In fact, his best friend, another priest, was killed by al-Qaida.

I think of how spoiled we Americans can be. I think of how easy it is for me to safely go to church — and how many options I have. I think about how people would die for the religious liberty we’ve had here in the U.S., and how fragile it can be when we’re not grateful stewards of it.

The buzz continues to be that the White House will soon declare the massacre of Yazidis in Iraq a genocide, but overlook the Iraqi and Syrian Christians, who are likewise targeted. Nona believes one upside of the targeting of Christians there is that while for many years there was a widespread silence in the West about the dangerous predicament they were in, now there is an awareness.

“The globalization of indifference is a malignant cancer,” Nona said during a panel discussion. He is grateful for those in the West who have a desire to help, and urges the United States to formally acknowledge the genocide — he has no doubt that would make an international difference.

For anyone in the West living in fear after terrorist attacks, he offers some hard-earned advice: Terrorists are afraid of joy. To his fellow Christians, he issues a challenge: “We fight them by living the Christian life.”

Nona and his people demonstrate just what that means. In our relative luxury here, Christians ought to do the same. It would do a world of good.

Kathryn Jean Lopez is senior fellow at the National Review Institute, editor-at-large of National Review Online and founding director of Catholic Voices USA. She can be contacted at [email protected].

COPYRIGHT 2016 United Feature Syndicate