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

Psychology

27 August 2024

5 min read

Recovery came softly

A vision of grace amid an eating disorder.

From Mockingbird

Mockingbird connects the Christian faith with the realities of everyday life.

Under a tree, backlit by a sun set, two people sit in chairs outside and talk.

Harli Marten on Unsplash.

This article, by Lindsay Holifield, first appeared in Mockingbird. Published by kind permission.

I turned sixteen years old in a lavender-walled bedroom on the eating disorder unit at Texas Children’s Hospital. Surrounded by eagle-eyed nurses watching my every move and whirring machines keeping me alive, I quietly transitioned to Sweet Sixteen. The unit’s charge nurse was a gruff woman named Lupe, and despite her job, she did not particularly like children. But it was my birthday, and in an uncharacteristic act of kindness, Lupe offered me a slice of cake. She must have briefly forgotten her surroundings, because I was not a normal teenager. I was a patient on a pediatric eating disorder unit, and I broke down sobbing at the mere thought of such a high-calorie food entering my body.

This was my first birthday in a clinical treatment facility for anorexia, but it would not be the last. After receiving the initial diagnosis of anorexia nervosa as a teenager, the doctor’s pronouncement sounding like a death-knell at the time, I would admit to twenty treatment facilities on separate occasions across a period of fourteen years.

The treatment staff began to greet me knowingly when I would re-admit after only a few months out, as though I was an old friend returning from vacation. “Welcome back, Lindsay,” they would say, as they took my luggage and inserted yet another nasogastric feeding tube. Over time, I began to be labeled “chronic,” and I internalized a belief that I was one of the sufferers who was fated to live the rest of my life under the oppressive weight of this struggle.

I would have to try harder. I would have to pull myself up by my bootstraps and willpower my way into recovery. After each attempt under this approach, I would fall flat on my face.

It seemed that no matter how much motivation I mustered up, this internal drive to self-destruct would not leave me alone. I desperately wanted to wake up each day without having to submit afresh to the hellish existence of self-starvation and running till my lungs felt on the verge of collapse. But I felt chained to this destructive cycle deep into my bones, despite my best intentions.

I was often berated by various treatment providers for not having enough motivation. I didn’t necessarily want to die, but I could not find the strength within me to fight off the voice in my brain that demanded self-destruction. Doctors and mental health clinicians made it clear that if I really wanted to get better, I would have to try harder. I would have to pull myself up by my bootstraps and willpower my way into recovery. After each attempt under this approach, I would fall flat on my face. The despair of my situation began to swallow me whole: there was no way out, because I could not yell at myself enough to make myself well.

Because of the lavish softness I was shown, I began to approach myself with greater softness.

I was twenty-six years old, and I was sitting in a green folding chair in the summer on a farm in Nashville, Tennessee. The woman in the folding chair across from me is decidedly in support of my recovery, but she isn’t yelling at me or giving me a stern lecture. Instead, she is explaining with great care and tenderness how much sense my struggles make in light of my previous life experiences. “Perhaps,” she says gently, “your brain was trying to survive great pain. Perhaps you were simply trying to make the ache go away the best way you knew how.” Her compassionate words break something open within me, and I start weep like a small child. No one has ever approached me with compassion like this; they are all afraid being too soft will simply enable me to further harm my body. But they are wrong. It is precisely this compassion and sense of being witnessed that softens my armored heart.

Recovery did not come overnight, but I can unhesitatingly say that the compassion of a woman on that farm in Nashville is what radically changed the trajectory of my life. Because of the lavish softness I was shown, I began to approach myself with greater softness. The voice of condemnation quieted, and I slowly turned from self-destruction to life.

Do you not hear the gospel ringing out here? My story of recovery is simply a zoomed in image of the grander story, the beautiful truth that makes up the fabric of our existence. Admitting powerlessness to destructive forces of sin and death is important, but the condemnation of the law will not save us. It is the extravagant, one-way grace of God that resurrects the dead.

I have heard similar fears in faith communities that I continually hear in my recovery communities: if we are too extravagant with compassion, we are enabling sin and destructive behaviors. But I am a living testament that compassion is what softens hearts of stone, armored up by self-protection and attempting to earn love through behavioral perfection. I would have died many times over save for the compassion that chased me down and embraced me, and being held in such tender kindness was the only thing that could have changed my fate. I believe this for mental health, yes, but more importantly, I believe this for the rescue of all of humanity. The grace of God is the sole agent of resurrection and change.

To the surprise of those who cling tightly to rigid, white-knuckling versions of recovery, my behavioral change occurred only after I was met with a grace without strings attached. This should not be surprising to Christians, however. Here again, the gospel glaring back at us, that repentance is a response to the kindness of God. This is the God who loved us while we were dead in our sins, while we were powerless to the forces of the world, the flesh, and the devil. Against our behavior-driven moral sensibilities, God offers us grace that is a free gift, compassion in its fullest expression, and it is the only thing that will bring renewal and healing to the inhabitants of this desperately aching world: minds, hearts, and bodies included.