In many parts of the world today the Church has declined from what it was a few years ago. But we're still used to its lavish buildings and its considerable influence; we take it for granted that when the Archbishop of Canterbury says something, for instance, people will want to report it. In the earliest days of the Church it was very different. It was just a few people, often in physical danger, poor, harassed and often bewildered, but sure they had found something remarkable and precious.

In 2 Timothy 1:6-14, Paul writes to remind Timothy of that and to tell him that whatever things look like, he's to hold on to this greater truth. He says in verses 8-9: 'Do not be ashamed of the testimony about our Lord or of me his prisoner. Rather, join with me in suffering for the gospel, by the power of God. He has saved us and called us to a holy life – not because of anything we have done but because of his own purpose and grace.'

Throughout this passage, one idea is dominant: shame. Paul writes to Timothy from prison, where he has been placed for the second time. He is afraid that his fellow-believers will think his situation reflects badly on him and compromises the gospel. There is no smoke without fire, they might think, and what sort of religion has a gaol-bird as an ambassador? So he encourages them to to be firm in their faith, as he is firm, because God is faithful.

Today, in Europe at least, religion has become less 'normal' and religious people are sometimes seen as a bit odd. The wave of writing from aggressive New Atheists has helped to create the impression that Christianity has been discredited. It can be hard to go against that current. There can even be a sense of shame at believing things other people don't, and a temptation to want to belong.

In the Gloucestershire town of Tewkesbury, near where I live, there is an old abbey church which is one of the loveliest I know. The Abbey is built of grey stone, it has beautiful soaring buttresses and it is set in green lawns. Inside it is all stained glass and polished brass, and going to a service there is a heavenly experience.

Just a few hundred yards away across the road is one of oldest Baptist chapels in the country. The church was started in about 1623, but the building itself is older than than. It is nothing to look at, just a typical old Tudor house, not very large, whose main room has been turned into a meeting-room with a pulpit.

Those early 17th-century Baptists must have felt the contrast, but they were not ashamed of being poor, weak and shabby next to the grandeur and beauty of the great Abbey. They had a relationship with God and a burning conviction that he had spoken to them.

We should be wary of being too impressed by power and glory, whether in the world or in the Church. Some of the greatest saints have been people who haven't been impressive or significant at all – but they have been holy, and that's nothing to be ashamed about.

Follow Mark Woods on Twitter: @RevMarkWoods