Visitors!

We just had to introduce Derek to our friend Mary!  Having just finished lunch at a local South Sudanese restaurant, we ambled through the “suk” (market) where we were suddenly and happily detained by a parade of friends whom we have gotten to know over the past year.  First there was the stately Santo, then there was Wanny with his incorrigible stutter, then the young and omnipresent Simon who lives on the streets, and then of course we also stopped to see the market vendors whom we have grown to know and love  – Kapeeta, Amiina, Saiida, and Alima.  After the hoopla of shaking hands, exchanging greetings and pleasantries as we introduced Derek, we made our way to our destination, Mary’s Tea Shop.  Though being the hottest time of day, we sat and ordered coffee and tea.  Familiar faces and other patrons soon filled the joint as we enjoyed lively conversations in this small container building with chairs closely facing each other, forcing conversation and community!  We told Derek when he arrived to South Sudan that Mary’s Tea Shop has become to us like the 80’s hit TV show “Cheers!” – a place where everyone knows your name, a place where everyone is always glad you came.  Derek was in seventh heaven, exclaiming when we got home, “This is what everyone wants!  We just don’t know how to get it.” 

Rev. Derek Macleod, pastor of St. Andrews-Covenant Presbyterian Church
in Wilmington, NC, treats us to dinner on the Nile!  

Paul knocked at our door late Sunday afternoon.  “I just need someone to talk to and pray with.  It will only take five minutes.”  Paul quickly shared how the reality of South Sudan had suddenly struck him square.  He need to talk, to pray, to cry.  We sat and listened and prayed with our brother.  He had been reading the book of our friend, Rev. John Chol Daau, one of the Lost Boys of Sudan who was displaced from his village when he was fourteen, his people attacked from the army and the government in the North.  John would spend at least thirteen years in refugee camps in Ethiopia and Kenya, separated from family, surviving by faith and the grace of God.  His story, the story of his people, the story of his land and the story of his young country struck a bull’s eye on our friend’s heart, leaving a forever impression.       

Rev. Paul Hensley, second from left, is a close friend from Fuller Theological Seminary-
he is an Anglican priest and has come to teach an intensive course
at Nile Theological College where I (Bob) teach

Revs. Derek Macleod and Paul Hensley have braved the ominous and foreboding travel admonitions to South Sudan provided by the US State Department.  They have found ways to mollify the fears expressed by family, friends and church members.  They have come to see us in South Sudan with a determined and courageous spirit, a willingness to fully engage with us, our neighborhood, our church partners, our students, and our friends.  They have encouraged us.  They have given us new eyes to see our life here in a new light.  They have spoken prophetic words of hope.  They have represented well not only their churches but also the Risen Christ.  Their coming has put “wind into our sails!”  They have reminded us that we are not alone.   

Visitors!  What would we do without them?  One of the many proverbs we learned in Congo says, “Nzubu kayi ne benyi, neafue,” or in English, “A home that does not have visitors will die.”  You can bet your bottom dollar that we are grateful for Paul and Derek.  May the Lord bless them for sharing with us the joys and challenges of life here in South Sudan.      

Happy Independence Day?

Last week we saw pictures on Facebook of fireworks, picnics, and parades in the U.S., celebrating the fourth of July. South Sudan’s independence day is July 9, just a few days later. This year is seven years since they became a country in 2011– still the youngest country in the world. However, most people were not celebrating.

The newspaper announced that there would be no public celebrations of independence. A government minister explained that there was no need to celebrate the day when most of the citizens were in refugee and IDP camps. The government also urged that people not shoot guns in celebration (as many people are traumatized from violence and living in fear already). Conflict and killings erupted in 2016 around Independence day, so since then many people are wary. Some organizations urged their staff to stay home on that day (rather than risk insecurity in the streets). Overall, it was a rather depressing day.

In the afternoon I went across the street to buy a few things in the market. I stopped to chat with our friend Mary in her tea stall. I expressed surprise that she was working on Independence Day, when all the stores were closed. “If you have money, it is nice to be able to stay home on the holiday,” she responded, “But if I stay home, where does the money come from to eat tomorrow?” So, she sat at her tea stall, even though patrons were few because most had stayed home for the holiday.

In contrast to the sobering reality of ongoing conflict, economic crisis, and suffering in South Sudan, I experienced dramatic faith, hope, and courage yesterday in a monthly women’s prayer gathering. Since 2013, women from various churches have been gathering to pray together every month. Because of schedule conflicts, this week was the first time that I have been able to attend.

The women often march together from a designated location to the church where the prayer meeting is held. Joining the march on my first time to participate felt intimidating, so I arranged with some women I knew to meet them when they arrived at the church. I waited with some other women at the church until one woman brought word that they were getting close, and we should all go out to welcome and join them. We walked down the street, in a very busy part of town near a bus park. I saw women carring a banner describing the gathering of women to pray for peace as they led the procession.

The procession stopped, and all the women kneeled down in the street. One woman prayed over the loudspeaker for God to bring peace, healing, and restoration in South Sudan. Kneeling there with them in the street, I was moved by this public and bold cry to God for peace. I learned that they stop several times during the march, and each time someone from a different church leads the prayer on a different topic. Episcopal, Presbyterian, Pentacostal, Catholic and African Independent Churches were all represented. What an impressive show of unity in our fragmented church and society!

The women finally reached the church, entering the building singing and dancing jubilantly. They continued with worship and prayers for specific topics such as the economy, church and government leaders, and for an end to random killings and robberies. The worship was energetic and exuberant – impressive for women who have just walked and prayed outside for an hour in the hot sun! To me it showed the power of their faith that God does hear our prayers, and delights when we join together to seek His grace and healing for those who are suffering.

The pastor preached a message on their theme verse, Isaiah 43:18-19, “Forger the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland.” This message seems so poignant and applicable to South Sudan – a promise of hope when all the circumstances indicate despair. I left this joyful gathering renewed in hope and faith for what God is doing in South Sudan.

“If the Lord Does Not Come”

As I nestled into the large outdoor couch overlooking the majestic African valley deep in Murchison Falls National Park during the early evening hours, I took out our iPad and quickly glanced at a few personal emails.  One message grabbed my immediate attention and kept it.  News had come from Khartoum that morning, Wednesday, June 13th, that Rev. John Tong Puk, a close colleague and friend, a leader in the South Sudan Presbyterian Evangelical Church (SSPEC) and Dean of Studies at Nile Theological College (NTC), where I teach, had died that morning.  I read the message over and over in disbelief.  I had just been with him and greeted him before his journey to Khartoum to see family.  Could it be?  It was like a dream.  For the next twenty four hours I kept saying to myself, “John Tong Puk is dead,” a statement of sheer disbelief and quiet quandary. 

This last Saturday SSPEC leaders hosted a memorial service for Rev. John Tong Puk here in Juba; he had been buried in Khartoum the week previous.  The Saturday memorial was a significant event, well attended by family, friends, colleagues, students, church leaders, politicians, and even the first vice-president of the country.  It began at 1pm and we didn’t find our way home until after 6pm.  A heavy storm with rain threatened to disrupt our holy gathering; Kristi and I were impressed in the way everyone "made do" as heavy water leaked between the tent tops and as people squeezed closer in as sheets of rain invaded our gathering.  I was particularly impressed with Rev. Phillip Obang Akway, General Secretary of SSPEC, for his quiet leadership and powerful preaching.  I was also impressed by the engagement of Rev. Michael Aban, a colleague and friend at NTC, who spoke well of our late brother and stayed engaged throughout, listening closely to each speaker until the very end.  For this momentous occasion a white bull had been slaughtered beforehand and the hundreds of attendees were well fed.

Short Video of Memorial Service for 

the late Rev. John Tong Puk

Three significant memories come to mind when I remember our late brother, the Rev. John Tong Puk.  The first memory is his “watchful spirit.”  On most occasions when conversing with him, he would always conclude our time together saying, “[We will do such and such and see each other again] if the Lord does not come.”  Rev. Puk was ever mindful of the reality that Jesus’ coming again is imminent, that we should watch and pray and always be ready.    

The second significant memory lies in the humility of our late brother.  In my final conversation with him, I gently confronted him about calling me “kawaja” (white person) a few times over the previous few weeks.  Trying to be as gracious and loving as possible in a culture which usually shies away from direct conflict, I took his hand and shared with him how as a Christian brother, colleague and friend, I would appreciate if he would call me by name rather than using this general term that often carries a negative connotation.  His response?  He humbly and graciously apologized and asked my forgiveness.  Turning to leave, he looked back and said, “Thank you for telling me.” 

The third memory lies in his interaction with students.  Rev. John Tong Puk, the Dean of Studies, was one of two faculty members to consistently attend the early morning devotions with students before class each day.  As we would leave the place of worship to form a line to greet one another, he would come along and look us each square in the face, grip our hand firmly and lovingly, and say “Shining,” a massive grin written across his round face.  He also often greeted me personally saying “Haddim El Rop,” a classical Arabic expression essentially meaning “You are a Servant of the Lord.”  

Rev. John Tong Puk was a humble servant of the Lord.  He was watchful and ready.  If one paid attention to all the things that were said about him and considered his distinguished career of service, one would come to the conclusion that this life was one singularly committed to the Lord and to others. The Lord has come for our brother; may he rest in peace, may he rejoice in glory, worshiping and serving our Lord for all eternity.  I look forward to seeing him again, looking full into his bright, round face, and hearing him say, “Shining,” “Haddim El Rop.”

Rev. John Tong Puk, 1956 - 2018