Letter from South Sudan

The people of South Sudan face more conflict and uncertainty as elections are postponed. Samuel Enosa Peni records how Christian faith is changing lives amid difficult times.

Samuel Enosa Peni

Samuel Enosa Peni is Archbishop of Western Equatoria in South Sudan.

Outside a church a congregation waits seated while an onlooker rests on a motorcycle by a tree.

South Sudanese Anglicans await the visit of the Archbishop of Canterbury to their church.

South Sudan as a sovereign state gained its independence in 2011 after experiencing a civil war which lasted for many decades. According to the 2018 International Religious Freedom Report, Christians make up 60 per cent of the population, 33 per cent constitute indigenous religion followers among whom some combine both Christian and indigenous practices.

In 2012 Christian faith in South Sudan celebrated the centenary of sustained Christianity in the land, for both the Roman Catholic church and the Protestants (Episcopal Church of South Sudan - Anglican Communion). There has been a tremendous growth of Christian faith in South Sudan and an increased number of Christian denominations. Lives have been saved and many South Sudanese have received Christ as their personal saviour. The Christian faith has also played a major role through its evangelization in drawing many people of all ages to participate in church activities and more. The church offers psychological and social support, inter-religious peace building initiatives, education, health and care that is changing lives. Christian faith is embedded in the reality and life situations of the people.

What does daily reality look like for people trying to live out their faith?

Life in South Sudan is characterized by war, tribal and communal conflicts. This has left the country facing many challenges, and the people are living in fear. Those who are trying to live out a Christian faith in South Sudan are not excepted from the general challenges and problems. The primary problem the majority face is the cost of living and security.

High inflation in the country is a factor of socio-economic problems and the hit of COVID in 2020. Life has never been the same since. Over 80 per cent of the people in South Sudan live below the poverty line. Despite the living conditions, as Christians, many have not ceased to live out a Christian faith. This is evidence by Christians participating in huge numbers during every Sunday Mass, prayer gatherings, Bible studies and church activities. Door to door and targeted evangelism mission outreach are effective. And a great number of people are called to the ministries such as becoming clergy, being commissioned as youth ministry leaders, Mothers’ Union members, evangelists and lay workers in the church.

What are the pressures and dangers being faced?

Due to lack of political will among the key players to permanently end conflict and bring peace to the people of South Sudan, there is still the danger of insecurity and fear among people in many parts of the country. Politics and socio-economics challenges and differences remain a problem. Christian faith also faces a danger of insurging witchcraft practices. Massive prayer initiatives are the response of the church. The mission to evangelise, teach and disciple remains a burden as a third of the people of South Sudan constitute indigenous religion followers or follow emerging false prophets. Because of the current economic situation, the church is lacking finance for its developmental programs. These range from capacity building, through missions, youth and women programmes, to working with vulnerable groups providing health and education. This poses a threat in the smooth gospel mission and discipleship programs.

How is Christianity fuelling justice?

South Sudan’s independence struggle was often considered a fight for religious freedom for the mostly Christian south against the Islamist government in Khartoum. With the current situation, the church has always been a key advocate for justice. As her role is to fuel justice, the church has been promoting dialogue, healing and reconciliation amid the ongoing political strife and ethnic conflicts. In 2017/2018, the South Sudan Council of Churches and its partners conducted a “Community Conversation” as an Action Plan for Peace aimed at documenting the voice of the people towards peacebuilding and addressing community issues and differences. The church is never silent to speak out against abuses of power and injustices in the Country. On 10 March 2023, the South Sudan Council of Churches released a statement which reads, “Deeper than simply avoiding war, nonviolence calls us to a new way of life which respects the dignity of every person and the integrity of creation. Nonviolence names a core value of the Gospel, in which Jesus combined an unmistakable rejection of violence with the power of love and truth in action for justice and peace. It is much more than the absence of violence and it is never passive. It is a spirituality, a constructive force, an effective method for social force, an effective method for social transformation, and a powerful way of life committed to the well-being of all. It rejects any form of violence and commits itself to a prophetic stance against violence and injustice. This is not a passive approach, not simply submitting to or colluding with violence, but is active and prophetic in responding to all forms of violence, amongst individuals, families, clans, tribes, and political and military factions, and including systemic violence embedded in our cultural, societal, and political life.”

What about the upcoming election?

Every South Sudanese is looking forward to a “free and fair” vote in the upcoming 2024 elections. Church leaders are also urging the government to adhere to the peace agreement it signed with its rivals, and to conduct a peaceful election. From the viewpoints of the current political climate, though the government has shown commitment to conduct elections in December 2024, remember that elections were to be conducted in February 2023 but did not materialize. The certainty of conducting elections in 2024 remains unclear. The facts are that the following measures needed to run an election have not yet been implemented: electoral laws, a census, voter registration and constituency boundaries, safe environments to vote, repatriation of refugees and security arrangements. Revitalized peace agreement protocols are also yet to be fully implemented. Looking at the remaining period to elections, this poses a question whether the election will be viable or not. From a Christian perspective, there is hope, with God nothing is impossible. The church is praying and working closely with the political parties and other community organizations to ensure there are elections in 2024.

Article

Change

Mental Health

18 April 2024

7 min read

Love is easy to say but hard to live

Love is not a one-time event. It is a practice.

Elizabeth Wainwright

Elizabeth Wainwright is a writer, coach and walking guide. She's a former district councillor and has a background in international development.

A man stands and looks at a neon sign reading 'need love and... '

Chester Wade on Unsplash.

Over Easter, Christians contemplate the love that the cross represents. But what does love mean now, in the world as it is – and how do we live it?

Love is one of those words that feels easy to say but hard to live. Like interdependence, like justice, like forgiveness. It is a word that can quickly get bent out of shape – mistaken for romance, twisted into desire, flattened into niceness, reduced to an emotion or a feeling. Still, we reach for it, or an approximation of it. We know we need it; we know it is a good and important thing. And yet for something so important we are never taught how to do it. Author and critic bell hooks (sic) said, “schools for love do not exist. Everyone assumes that we will know how to love instinctively.”

The times we live in, though, are calling out for people who know how to love – for people who love well and who love much and who love like it has the power to heal and guide us – because the times we live in ask a lot. The forces and systems and ways of being that we’re so entangled with now are, I think, strengthened by lovelessness. Never-enough consumption, divisive politics, ruthless economics are all bolstered by lovelessness — by loneliness and othering and fear and greed. Still, like hooks, I think we “yearn to end the lovelessness that is so pervasive in our society.” She goes on: “To open our hearts more fully to love’s power and grace we must dare to acknowledge how little we know of love in both theory and practice…”

Sometimes though, it seems Christians are as clueless about how to love as anyone.

Christians should know something of love in theory and in practice. In the Bible, love is a command, love overcomes death, love serves, love lays down its life, love is God. Love is the cornerstone of all of it. Jesus calls another world into being when he tells his followers to not only love their neighbours, but to love their enemies too. He was consistently community-oriented in his teaching and living and loving, demonstrating love for his closest companions as well as for strangers and social outcasts. Love in the gospel is practical, unromantic, beautiful.

Sometimes though, it seems Christians are as clueless about how to love as anyone. If non-believers see judgement, infighting, division, or other signs of lovelessness when they look at the church and its members — when we Christians feel these things ourselves — then we know there is work to do. There is of course always work to do, even when we love well, because love is not a one-time event; it must keep flowing, it is a way of being, it is a practice.

A couple of the churches I went to early on in my Christian journey made me feel unwelcome. They were glossy, wealthy – not necessarily bad things in themselves, but here they felt like a silent sifter of belonging. Once, someone only half-jokingly corrected me for cutting the ‘nose’ off a wedge of cheese at a church event. I never felt relaxed, never myself. This was partly me, too – I realise lately that I have declined many invitations to belong. But the church we go to now is what I think perhaps an ideal church looks like. It’s an eclectic, scrappy group of people who tolerate some big differences in opinion and belief because they believe that love is bigger than those differences. There is no cancel culture, no shutting people out, though often it would be easier to do that than to stay, to keep coming back. A few weeks ago, I gave a sermon and in it, referenced the fact that over 30,000 people had been killed in Gaza, 70 per cent of whom were women and children. I said that if we were led by love – which is not selective, which is not reserved only for people we like the look of, which is never on the side of war and oppression – perhaps we might be doing what we could to make this dying stop: rage, protest, petition, pray. As I expected, the Minister had a complaint – that church shouldn’t be political, that I had been one sided, and so on. This is not an essay about that topic, but the reason I share this is because I knew some people would disagree with me, and I knew that would make me furious, and yet I also knew that our church holds the space for all this. I knew we would still all keep showing up, keep living alongside each other, keep encountering each other and being together in our unity, even when we infuriate each other.

In the age of the individual, healing and development has become a personal mission, peddled as products by distant companies that do not really care about our hearts and souls and lives.

There are other fault lines in our church – political, theological, economic, creative. But, just as fault lines on the Earth cause violent earthquakes yet still enable the plates to move and exist alongside each other, shaping and reshaping and evolving this one shared planet, so I think do the fault lines in church, in community, in the world. Perhaps they provide edges along which we can encounter each other, along which we can shape and reshape humanity. Fault lines can bring quakes and tremors, but they can also bring new shapes, new realities, if we’re willing to do the work. Rather than turn away, perhaps these fault lines offer the chance to choose to stay, to be curious, to encounter, to listen — to practice love.

bell hooks again – she speaks so thoughtfully on the topic of love – said: “I am often struck by the dangerous narcissism fostered by spiritual rhetoric that pays so much attention to self-improvement and so little to the practice of love within the context of community.” I am struck by this too — in the age of the individual, healing and development has become a personal mission, peddled as products by distant companies that do not really care about our hearts and souls and lives. In our church though, and in the similarly infuriating and beautiful town it is in, I see – not always but often – how love blazes brightest in the context of relationships and community. It is a commitment, a deeply practical virtue that fosters togetherness, even along fault lines if we believe it can. Love lives in relationships that nurture us and challenge us, that shape us. And I think that is how the kingdom comes — not through grand gestures and money and tech, but person-by-person, through the everyday and lifetime work of love.

Love asks – no, demands – that we root it in practice. It demands that we really see each other, that we encounter each other even along our messy and many fault lines. It demands that we listen, make space for dialogue and difference, seek to understand and be compassionate. This feels countercultural in a time when it can be easier to turn away than to stay. Love demands that we coexist together in our differences so that we are better able to see and unite against our real adversary — lovelessness, and all of its friends. This is holy work, I think, in the sense that it is about wholeness and that it really is work.

At Easter, the cross we reflect on is a symbol of love, and it is also a critique of lovelessness, of empire, of religion that pretends to be about God and love. It is a looking glass, showing us who we are, and who we could yet be if we sought to embody the radical love that Jesus demonstrated even in his final moments, praying for his crucifiers “father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” Love, I think, wants us to let it take more weight than we do – to trust it, to use it, to wield it like others wield weapons and hatred and judgement. This Easter and beyond, I am reflecting on what love really means in the world right now, and I am praying that we open ourselves more fully to its reality, its concreteness, its demands, its power, its practice. Finally, I am reading again the familiar but ever-challenging verses in St Paul's letter to a church in Corinth:

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonour others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.