When I joined the Army, I was issued a set of identification tags. On them were my name, Social Security number, blood type, and one final line: religious preference.

The Army offers 73 different Protestant denominations to choose from. There’s also the option to list “non-denominational.” That’s the one I selected.

But later, I had a second set of ID tags made. These were not issued by the Army. But they were the ones I wore. And on that final line, I asked for a single word:
CHRISTIAN.

Why? Because of a conversation I had with my mother when I was just a young child—one I have never forgotten.

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A Mother’s Courageous Words

I can still hear her voice, steady and sure, shaped by both faith and realism.

“When the soldiers come,” she said, “they will ask if you are a Christian. They will tell you to deny Christ. Never deny Christ.”

“When they tell you they will kill you if you do not, remember: Never deny Christ.”

“When they tell you they will kill me, know that I will go and be with Him, and you are to never deny Him.”

“No matter what they say, no matter what they do—as for you: Never deny Christ.”

“We are Christians. We follow Him, even to the death. He is our Lord.”

Even though I was very young, I grasped the weight of her words. She wasn’t being dramatic. She was being faithful. She was training me—not just for a world at war, but for a life where allegiance to Christ would be tested, one way or another.

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What’s in a Name?

In recent years, I’ve met people who say they are “Christ-followers,” but not “Christians.” They want to distinguish themselves from what they see as the cultural baggage of Christianity. The hypocrisy. The scandals. The misuse of the name.

I get it. The label “Christian” has, in many ways, been diluted or distorted. In some circles, it’s more of a political or cultural identity than a spiritual one. But I also believe this:

The soldiers won’t care what your denomination is.

They won’t ask whether you’re Baptist or Pentecostal or Presbyterian or Vineyard. They won’t care if you say you’re a “disciple of Jesus” instead of “Christian.”

They will want to know one thing: Who is your Lord?

And if the answer is Jesus Christ, then understand this: the label “Christian” may once again cost you everything.

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The Early Church Didn’t Hide

The name “Christian” was first used in Antioch (Acts 11:26). It wasn’t a term the disciples gave themselves—it was one others gave to them. And yet, they wore it.

They didn’t hide behind vague terminology. They didn’t try to rebrand their faith to make it more palatable to Rome. They stood for Jesus, even as lions waited in the arena.

They were mocked, tortured, and martyred—not because they were religious—but because they refused to say “Caesar is lord.”

Instead, they said what I say now: Christ is Lord.

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Why I Wear the Name

I didn’t inscribe “CHRISTIAN” on those dog tags for the sake of tradition. I did it for allegiance.

Because if I’m captured, if I’m asked, if I’m pressed—I want the answer to already be printed where they can see it.
This is who I am.

I am not ashamed of the Gospel of Jesus Christ.
I am not confused about whom I serve.
I am not wavering in my allegiance.

Yes, I follow Christ. And yes, I am a Christian.

The Cost of the Name

Jesus said, “Whoever wants to be My disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow Me.” (Luke 9:23)

He also said, “Whoever denies Me before others, I will also deny before my Father in heaven.” (Matthew 10:33)

This isn’t just poetic language. In some parts of the world, to be known as a Christian means exile, imprisonment, even death. And the day may come when that line on our ID tags or in our testimony becomes a death sentence here, too.

So we need to decide now:
Is Jesus worth it?
Is He worth the name?
Is He worth your life?

Final Word

Yes, I wear the name “Christian.” Not because I think I’m better, but because I know I’m His.

I won’t abandon my mother’s voice or my Savior’s call.

As for me, Christ is Lord. And I am a Christian.