I had a discussion the other day with some fellow atheists - or maybe we were agnostics - ah, hell, even we couldn't agree upon the right word. Anyway, that's not the point. The point is that during the conversation these atheists (or agnostics) were telling me that they suffer persecution. They went on to remind me that the vast majority of Americans believe in god and that a strong majority are Christians.

My first reaction was one of shock. Not at the numbers. Shock that they would call their public treatment persecution. I remembered my days as an Evangelical Christian and how persecution was something I was acutely aware of. I saw persecution in schools regarding the lack of public prayer. I saw persecution in the media as it was common to see devout Christians depicted as boobs and nincompoops on TV and in movies. I saw persecution in my local and federal governments at courthouses, police stations, etc.
Why did I see that persecution? In public schools it is unconstitutional to hold scheduled prayer meetings or vigils; but it's perfectly acceptable for a student to take a moment to pray privately. (I should also note that, since I went to a private, Christian school, this never applied to me.) TV and movies weren't especially holy, but neither was my life being threatened due to my beliefs by a couple hundred feet of celluloid. The courthouse that wouldn't mount the ten commandments didn't do so in order to protect my rights as well as the rights of the Muslim or Buddhist that appeared after me. Yet, I saw persecution.
And I've figured it out. I saw persecution because Paul told me to do so. So did Jesus. And so did (and this is probably the most important) John on the Island of Patmos. You see, these dudes weren't talking directly to us. They were talking to a small number of Greeks and Jews who were living underground with their brand new faith in order to avoid a stoning or worse. And they were right. As I'm sure you know, things didn't work out well for these guys: Paul was martyred (probably beheaded by Nero), John was crucified upside down, and, well, I think we've got the Jesus thing settled.
For the next couple hundred years, Christians continued to hide for fear of their lives. Famously, Nero would throw Christians into the Colosseum along with a couple of lions to test their mettle. And, although it's been pretty well disproved that Christians actually hid in the labyrinths under the cities, they did have to watch out for the Romans and the Mosaic Jews.
But all that changed with Constantine. Once he came along and brought Jesus to the Romans, the rules changed forever. Christianity began what seems like its inevitable climb to become, for a while, the single largest religion in the world. Today it's the second largest (blame it on Muhammad) with at least 1 billion people professing some sort of Christianity.
So, why do modern christians feel persecuted? Do they fear for their lives? Some, I guess, but so do some Muslims, Tibetans, gays, and blacks. Do they worry for a world populace that's going to hell in a hand basket? Yeah, but that's what they were expecting (I refer you, again, to John's Revelation). What about American Christians and their beef with America's laws? It may be illegal to hold a bible study in a public classroom, but that's exactly what the Puritans - the single most moral and righteously pious sect of Christianity ever to land here - were aiming for when they told Queen Elizabeth to stuff it. Marriage is defined as a holy act in every single state. "Under God" remains in our pledge (don't get me started) and "In God We Trust" still adorns our legal tender. Chaplains start every congressional session with a prayer and our president leads us in prayer on Christmas and Easter.
Do you get it, yet? I'll make it simple. Even though a staggering majority of American Christians have never endured real persecution (death, dismemberment of limbs, separation from family, desecration of God, etc.) they need to feel as if they have. To be Christian is to be separate from this world; to keep the lights on until the Kingdom of Heaven returns; to be in the world but not of it.
All of this brings me to my main question: From what will they be separate if they're able to change all of America's laws to reflect their own, often narrow, morality and values? To put it another way, who's holier: the preacher at one of the hundreds of churches in any American town or the preacher at the one underground Christian church in Saudi Arabia? Get my drift?