Bethel, House of God

When [Jacob] reached a certain place, he stopped for the night because the sun had set. Taking one of the stones there, he put it under his head and lay down to sleep. He had a dream in which he saw a stairway resting on earth, with its top reaching to heaven, and the angels of God were ascending and descending on it. There above it stood the Lord… (Genesis 28: 11 – 13a) 

When God meets us and speaks to us, the world becomes more brilliant. Such was the case for our brother Jacob when he fled the home of his fathers to find his Uncle Laban. In a dream, God reminds Jacob of who God is, extending the promise to Jacob that had been given to his fathers. Jacob’s human pilgrimage shifts.

For years, Kristi and I have been in the habit of “retreating” from the cares of normal life, setting ourselves apart in lonely places where we can think, meditate, walk, write, and pray. Earlier this month, we took several days to do just that. As our favorite retreat center was closed, we chose an inviting Airbnb in a neighboring town called Eureka. Close to our abode was a nice lake, walking trails, and a labyrinth. On our first day, Kristi spent time at the labyrinth, praying that God would help her live a life of faithfulness. She prayed that God would give her a sign in the form of seeing an owl. Later, as this glorious autumnal day was coming to a close, we walked by the lake. “Hoot hoot…Hoot hoot” we heard just overhead. We scanned the trees to no avail. As we turned and looked out over the lake, a large presence flew overhead, wings flapping with equanimity and tremendous force. An owl. 

Eureka Lake, where we enjoyed walks and saw an owl 

Labyrinth on the Eureka College Campus 

Each day I holed myself up in the frigid upstairs of this humble 1920’s era home. I was reading and writing “memories,” a project Kristi and I are working on with a friend, hopefully in time yielding a memoir. I am currently writing experiences from Rwanda. It feels amazing to look back on those years, seeing pieces connect in new ways. For instance, I could see more clearly now how God had orchestrated my time there, namely my choice to stay longer. Yes, it was a choice, but God gave a "light touch" in fashioning my path. It was a joy to re-read these memories, and to write new ones. It made me felt more integrated, more whole. I spent time at the labyrinth where daily I saw a woodpecker as together we enjoyed a wondrous grove of elms. I also spent time reflecting on the life of Nehemiah, how he spent his "social capital" on the needs of the poor and marginalized Israelites dwelling in destroyed Jerusalem. “Oh Lord,” I prayed, “how can I use my 'social capital' to help others, especially the poor and the marginalized?” 

Working upstairs on memories (not much heat!) 

Kristi walked along the shores of the lake on a bright morning, feeling the crunch of the leaves underfoot and the brisk wind on her face. She worshipped and prayed, watching the geese on the water and the juncos in the bushes, allowing the peace and glory of nature to restore her spirit, connecting her with the Lord of creation. Later she meandered through a cemetery, noting names and dates, imagining life from ages past. A large tree stood near the graves, the long roots entangling and pushing up the graves, a reminder of the brevity of life and our need for God’s perspective. 

Canadian Geese

Walking Path, our Journey Continues...  

Jacob called the place where God met with him “Bethel,” meaning “the house of God.” After several days of retreat at our Airbnb, we left Eureka, our earthly loads lighter and our world a bit brighter. We all need a house where we can go and meet with God.

Resilience

Resilience. What does resilience mean to you? How would you describe it? I just finished a course called STAR (Strategies for Trauma Awareness and Resilience), and one thing that I really appreciated was exploring what resilience is, hearing from those who have gained it, and learning some ways to build resilience. A few descriptions of resilience that we used were:

•  Ability to bend and not break
•  Ability to adapt to challenges or change;
•  Healthy power amidst vulnerability and uncertainty

While living in Congo and now South Sudan, Bob and I learned some of the history of those places, which includes horrible exploitation, conflict, and suffering. 'Resilient' was often the first word that we would use to describe people in those countries who have survived, persevered, and adapted in the face of so much challenge.

But now I am realizing that simply surviving is not enough, because unhealed trauma continues to affect a person and their relationships for many years, even being passed down to their children genetically and affecting whole groups as historical or cultural trauma. Resilience does not mean merely surviving trauma – it means finding ways to heal and learning practices to maintain perspective and stability in situations that might be traumatic.

Rev. Peter Yien Reath is one person in South Sudan who has embodied resilience. He was falsely accused, imprisoned, and nearly killed in Khartoum because of his faith and his work as a pastor. After he was freed, he attended college in Nairobi and was trained in an approach to Trauma Healing. He now serves in South Sudan, starting and facilitating healing groups in rural areas. He has had to adapt to living in different places and respond to various challenges and threats. He has experienced the peace and strength of God that sustained him through those times of challenge.

Rev. Peter Yien Reath

We learned in our class about a concept called the “Window of Tolerance,” a zone where our nervous system is relaxed, calm, and engaged. When our ‘window of tolerance’ is open, we can respond thoughtfully and more calmly to bad news or frustrations. But when we are already stressed, tired, or depleted, our window closes, and we might erupt in anger at a slight provocation or go into despair from bad news.

So how do we build resilience? I have fresh appreciation now for the amazing, complex brain that God designed to help us perceive threats and stress and regulate our emotions and our nervous system. Our brain is integrally linked with the rest of our physical bodies – so sometimes physical actions (deep breathing, movement) can help to relieve mental or emotional stress, or physical pain can be a source of psychological or mental stress. This is why we are told that it is important to exercise, get good sleep, and eat healthy to promote mental and emotional well-being. Prayer, meditation, and being in nature are also important for me to nurture my spiritual life and relationship with God, which helps my ‘window of tolerance’ to stay open by reminding me of God’s perspective and presence. What are practices that you have found helpful? I’m sure that during this pandemic and election season we all need to have a few positive practices to help quell the anxiety and maintain hope.

A labarynth that we like to go to in Bloomington - 

praying while moving is one thing that really helps me

"There is need for...materials of refreshment, challenge, and renewal for those who [are] intent upon establishing islands of fellowship in a sea of racial, religious, and national tensions." Howard Thurman (quoted by Brenda Salter McNiel in her book, Roadmap to Reconciliation 2.0)

Radical Empathy

Recently I had a conversation with a family member about empathy. What does it mean to be empathic to others? Is empathy a natural gift or a skill we develop? When I lived in Rwanda, one of the greatest services the visiting short-term church teams performed was sitting quietly and humbly listening, giving space for widows and others to share their stories. In the midst of our current racial reckoning in America, as a means of becoming more empathic to the challenges faced by communities of color, a colleague recently recommended listening to the voices of persons of color, to not just read their autobiography or memoir, but to listen to them speak for themselves their own life story (via audio book).

Back in June, while we were living in an apartment lent to us by a church acquaintance, one of the regular highlights for me was listening to Trevor Noah describe growing up in Apartheid South Africa in his memoir, Born a Crime. Noah describes what it means to be “colored” or mixed-race, but not fitting into any of racial categories because of his particular social location. Noah candidly describes a life of poverty, living on the margins, the challenges women like his mother face in their culture, a life of robbery and thuggery which many blacks are forced into because of poverty, and the challenges faced in the Homelands because of State-Sanctioned White Supremacy. Noah looks back on his formative years with a compassionate lens, describing for the listener the countless injustices he and his mother and his community faced. Noah astutely compares the Apartheid and racist South Africa of his youth with that of the United States of America, where he now lives. Listening to Noah, at times I found myself laughing, but other times I found myself crying.  I experienced a mixture of tears and joy with Noah's poignant and dramatic conclusion. 

  

Earlier this year while we were still in South Sudan before being requested by our mission leadership to return to the United States, Kristi listened to former First Lady Michelle Obama speak her life story in her memoir, Becoming. Without partisan loyalty, Kristi simply wanted to hear Obama’s story. I remember seeing Kristi in the kitchen or in the bedroom with her headphones on, laughing, or perhaps, on the verge of tears. Obama gave firsthand account of the pressures of being married to the most powerful man in the world and what it meant to be a black woman thrust into the spotlight. Mrs. Obama described also growing up on the South Side of Chicago, her family witnessing the travesty of real estate agents lying about home values and manipulating their clients, exacerbating “white flight” and the devolution of her neighborhood. 

In August, Kristi and I listened separately to When They Call You a Terrorist: A Black Lives Matter Memoir, the life story of Patrisse Khan-Cullors, co-founder of the Black Lives Matter organization. Khan-Cullors describes growing up “between poverty and police” in Van Nuys, California. Khan-Cullors describes how her mother worked three jobs to barely support their family, how her father figures were “missing in action” due to their jobs being taken away and because of the “War on Crime” and mass incarceration, how her brothers were harassed by the police from their early teens, and how her bi-polar brother Monte was deemed a terrorist for a minor traffic accident and beaten senseless and tortured by the L.A. County Sheriff’s Department. Sitting on the shores of a lake in Central Illinois with my headphones on, I wept as I listened to the sad account of her father Gabriel’s substance abuse and early death. While Khan-Cullors has been labelled a “terrorist” and worse, in listening to her share her story, it became abundantly clear to me that Khan-Cullors' life passion is simply seeking life, dignity, and freedom from injustice for all persons and communities. I wonder aloud with her, “Is that too much to ask?” 

Patrisse Khan-Cullors 
  

Last week Kristi and I finished listening to 12 Years a Slave, the firsthand account of Solomon Northup, a colored man born free in New York but kidnapped and sold into slavery in the deep South. His story is wonderfully narrated by Richard Allen. Less wonderful is Northup’s jarring depiction of chattel slavery as he experienced it on Bayou Bluff in Louisiana between 1841 and 1853. Most distressing was the scene of fellow slave Patsy, brutalized with no mercy by their master Epps. This scene, the culmination of other monstrous scenes, bespeaks the hideous nature of chattel slavery in the United States of America. Northup’s personal account and words directly challenge the uninitiated and naïve when it comes to the dark and pervasive realities of American chattel slavery. As history now tells us, the American public in the North  were overwrought by the depiction proffered by Northup and Harriet Beecher Stowe in Uncle Tom’s Cabin, two accounts which dramatically moved the country in the direction of the Abolitionists’ Cause. 

A colleague in mission cites the wisdom of an Asian proverb, “To hear is to forget, to see is to remember, but to feel is to understand.” May we ‘feel’ the pain of others, listening to their stories, and thus ‘understand’. In a recent interview with Oprah Winfrey, Isabel Wilkerson, acclaimed author of The Warmth of Other Suns and Caste, describes the need for “radical empathy.” Along with Wilkerson, I believe that this ‘radical empathy’ only comes when we hear the stories of others, have a more complete picture of our history, and are motivated to action, action which will create a more just and loving world. Amen.

Disasters upon disasters

 Last week there was severe flooding in several regions of South Sudan, particularly along the Nile River in Jonglei state and in the region of Pochalla in the east. In Pochalla, hundreds of homes were destroyed, crops were ruined, and thousands of people were displaced. Everything is underwater in the village, a central population center for hundreds of miles.

You can imagine how disruptive and scary this would be. In the U.S. we are learning more and more about disruption with the impacts of the Coronavirus coupled with natural disasters like hurricanes, wildfires, even a derecho that swept through the Midwest this week. So please join in praying for protection for people in South Sudan. Our colleague Rev. Philip Obang lamented this week as he shared the news that now they are facing floods, Coronavirus, desert locusts and regional, ethnic fighting. He particularly urged prayer for those who will not have food because of this flooding and the water-borne diseases (like cholera, typhoid, and malaria) that are sure to follow. 

Let us join together in interceding for our brothers and sisters in Christ in South Sudan, for provision of food, shelter, and health. God sees and knows the people in these desperate situations and can turn around what looks impossible to us. 

God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.

2 

Therefore we will not fear, though the earth should change,

though the mountains shake in the heart of the sea;

though its waters roar and foam, 

though the mountains tremble with its tumult.
Psalm 46:1-3

Bob's Dissertation Journey

Research Proposal Accepted

On Tuesday, July 14th, the Research Committee of the Department of Systematic Theology and Ecclesiology at Stellenbosch University in South Africa met to review my research proposal for a doctoral program. Dr. Retief Muller, my research advisor, was part of that meeting. Dr. Muller wrote me following the meeting later that day to inform me that things "went rather well." He said that members of the committee were "overall complimentary" of my proposal. They accepted my proposal with encouragement to make a few changes and improvements, including changing the title. I feel blessed to have reached this stage in my dissertation journey! Below is the title and the "abstract" (short introduction) which I would like to share with you.

Title

Reconciling Worlds: A Critical Examination of the Social Interface of the Lifeworld of the Nilotic Peoples of Upper Nile, South Sudan, with the Lifeworld of White Euro-American Christianity

Abstract

The Chollo people[1] of South Sudan describe God as like the wind or the air. God is ever present. God’s ongoing providential care finds expression in all of life. As an African mother would carry her child on her back, nurturing and cherishing that child, the Kiga people of Uganda describe God as Biheko, meaning “He carries everyone on his back” (Mbiti 1989).

While missionaries from Europe and North America made extraordinary sacrifices and accomplishments in Africa over the last two centuries, one African Christian scholar posits that “Missionaries came to Africa with the wrong diagnostics.”[2] Despite Black Africans being “notoriously religious,”[3] White Euro-American missionaries failed to meaningfully connect the rich cultural and religious history of African peoples with the Christian faith. Problematic was the idea that White European and North American “civilization” was inextricably linked with the Gospel; to become a Christian implied conformity to White Euro-American cultural values. As missionaries sought to “replicate” themselves in African converts, missionaries did not grasp the deep religious insights of African peoples (Bediako 1999: 234; Mbiti 1989: 56). Thus, this White Euro-American ethnocentrism led to a misguided theology of mission, a theology of mission which failed to perceive how God has manifested God’s Self in unique and specific ways to African peoples. As most White Euro-American missionaries failed to understand the universality of God’s presence among the peoples of the world, ethnocentrism is a significant factor in the story of Christianity in Africa (Bediako 1999: 236).

Seeking a path forward, Kwame Bediako and scores of concerned voices herald their conviction that for Christianity to be deeply rooted and intrinsic to African peoples, we must name this tragic legacy of mission and then meaningfully engage with the thought processes, religious histories, lived experience, and contemporary challenges of African peoples. We must foster deep and meaningful dialogue between African Religion and experience with the Christian faith. This research will assume a posture of listening and learning as we sit at the feet of South Sudanese sisters and brothers. Adopting a creation-centered theology,[4] this project seeks to understand how the Nilotic peoples of Upper Nile, South Sudan, connect their traditional religion and lived experience with the Gospel message and the Christian tradition. This research will utilize the Sociological-Anthropological Approach championed by Justin S. Ukpong, combining a sociological understanding of culture with anthropological factors, honoring the unity of African thought, that all of life is bound up together. Moreover, this research project will follow the trail set by Justin Ukpong, Emmanuel Katongole, and others concerned with the personal, the communal, and the social ramifications of life in God in Jesus Christ, particularly in terms of personal and communal identity formation and reconciliation with “the other.”

[1] Chollo is the true name of the tribe otherwise called “Shilluk,” a corrupted Arabic designation meaning “scars”
[2] Quotation from lunch conversation with Dr. Elisée Musemakweli, Vice Chancellor of the Protestant Institute of Arts and Social Sciences (PIASS) in Huye, Rwanda, in February 2019.
[3] A well-known quote from theologian John S. Mbiti (Mbiti 1989: 1)
[4] A creation-centered theology sees the world as sacramental, a place where God reveals God’s Self, assuming continuity between human experience and existence with the divine. This orientation stands in contradistinction to a “redemption-centered theology” which assumes culture and human experience need either complete transformation or total replacement…that the world is not a vehicle for the presence of God but that reality and creation distorts God’s reality and is in complete rebellion against it (Bevans 2002).

International School of Reconciliation in Rwanda workshop focuses on healing inner wounds

Entering retirement in 2019, Presbyterian elder Patricia “Pat” Petty Morse wondered where God would direct her to serve next.

Morse’s career as a lawyer with the U.S. Department of Justice included assessing the judicial systems of several countries, including Sierra Leone, to encourage U.S. support toward transparent and effective systems of justice. She actively served her church in many ways, such as participating for 10 years on an anti-racism team in National Capital Presbytery.

At the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.)’s Big Tent conference in Baltimore in August 2019, Morse attended a healing and reconciliation workshop describing trauma care being done by Presbyterian partners in Africa. She was moved by the testimonies of inner healing and forgiveness taking place in Rwanda, Congo and South Sudan. A training scheduled in Africa earlier this year felt like a unique opportunity to explore how God might want to use her.

In February, before the pandemic disrupted travel, Morse arrived for a three-week workshop at the International School of Reconciliation in Rwanda. She joined participants from 11 countries, including several people from South Sudan. The facilitators, representing five nationalities, walked with participants through its “Healing Hearts, Transforming Nations” workshop, which includes four main areas: understanding God’s heart of love, healing our inner wounds, repentance and forgiveness, and reconciliation.

The International School of Reconciliation practicum team. 

Courtesy of Patricia “Pat” Petty Morse

Morse reflected that healing our wounds helps to make us equal, as we realize that we are all broken and in need of healing. During the “cross workshop,” participants were encouraged to give their pain to Jesus, who took our sin and pain upon himself on the cross (Isaiah 53:4). Then they were encouraged to ask God to replace their pain with healing.

International School of Reconciliation participants 

lay a wreath at the Rwanda Genocide Memorial. 

Courtesy of Patricia “Pat” Petty Morse

The South Sudan Presbyterian Evangelical Church sent four members to Rwanda for this training. Afterward, elder Romano Kuat shared, “My father was killed in 1983, when I was a child, so I am a victim of ethnic conflict. I prayed many times and said, ‘I forgive them, because they didn’t know what they were doing.’ But I didn’t really forgive in my heart.” He said the course helped him realize he was still harboring unforgiveness. It gave him the opportunity to acknowledge his pain, give it to Jesus and ask for healing.

“After 30 years, I am finally experiencing healing for my father’s death,” Kuat said. “And I realized that South Sudan is very similar to Rwanda. We can learn from them!”

“The session ‘Forgiving Is Not Forgetting’ was really powerful for me,” said Suzan Ajullu. “Because if someone hurts you, it is not easy to heal and forgive. It is not just a matter of saying ‘I’m healed.’ Now I’m experiencing some healing of the wounds that I had. I don’t have the dreams anymore or the fears that I was having before. I really experienced healing in Rwanda.”

Patricia “Pat” Petty Morse (center) rejoices with other International School of Reconciliation 

participants as they conclude the workshop with a Celebration of the Holy Nation. 

Courtesy of Patricia “Pat” Petty Morse 

The Rwanda training culminated in a practicum where participants facilitated a workshop alongside coaches and translators. Morse, Kuat and Ajullu were in a group facilitating a workshop in a rural area that included both perpetrators and survivors of the Rwandan genocide. Morse shared that part of her learning process was working collaboratively with people from several different cultures, appreciating each person’s perspectives and gifts.

Practicum group members work together to prepare to facilitate the practicum workshop. 

Photo by Joseph Nyamutera

Just before their practicum started, Rwanda banned all public gatherings and began restricting travel due to COVID-19. Participants scrambled to change flights and return to their home countries. Both in South Sudan and in the U.S., the past few months have revealed the inner wounds and ethnic tensions that plague people. Morse, Kuat, Ajullu and others are grateful for the healing experienced and the power of learning from one another. They said they are praying and looking forward to opportunities to organize future workshops to share the message of healing and hope with others.

This article, written by Kristi, comes from Presbyterian World Mission and can be found here: https://www.presbyterianmission.org/story/rwanda-workshop/

Remembering Refugees

The large church building held more than one thousand people, squeezed together on narrow wooden benches. There were five large choirs, and each sang enthusiastically, with impressive cohesion and choreography. There were also several pastors, as this congregation formed when several smaller congregations merged when they found themselves transplanted into the Internally Displaced Persons (IDP) Camp. We remember that first visit well – it was electrifying and moving to have so many people packed into the church building and also to know that despite their joyful worship, each of them had experienced significant trauma and upheaval. After the service, the church leaders led the way, weaving through the maze of white tents, to the home of pastor James. We sat together with some of the elders and pastors, listening and trying to understand a piece of their life. Deacons brought in large platters with heaping bowls of wal-wal, fish soup, lentils and kisra. We were amazed and humbled – this was the first congregation in Juba to feed us a meal after Sunday worship, and we knew that this hospitality was a sacrificial gift.

Pastor James shared that he is often called to help counsel people who are experiencing trauma or abuse in the camp. With so many people crowded into small spaces without good sanitation facilities or land for them to cultivate, over the course of years health, relationships, and work ethic begin to decline. The church is an important source of hope, connection, and strength, and perhaps this is one reason that the worship and prayers feel especially powerful in the camp. Many of the current residents fled to this camp near Juba in 2016 during a horrific period of attacks on the Nuer people. The situation in the city has improved, and many people leave the camp during the day for work or school, but do not yet feel safe enough to live outside the camp. The trauma and fear that they have experienced is significant, and we know that several conditions will have to be met for most of the people to be able to return to normal lives outside the camp. The years that this drags on, however, means that children are growing up inside the camp, and some of our colleagues have lamented that this means they are not learning the skills such as farming, building houses, or caring for cattle that they would be learning in their villages – which of course adds another set of challenges for the country in navigating a new way forward.

World Refugee Day is June 20. We encourage you to remember with us the incredible challenge of refugees around the world. South Sudan is a country with the largest refugee crisis in Africa, with more than 1.5 million people displaced from their homes within South Sudan and more than 2 million living temporarily in camps in neighboring countries. Most of these refugees have been in camps or displaced for nearly five years. Last year nearly 200,000 voluntarily returned home as prospects for peace in their regions improved. However, attempts to implement a new unity government in 2020 have been mired in controversy and led to further instability. In May and June of this year, inter-tribal violence broke out in several places over cattle raiding and revenge killing. The Presbyterian Church of South Sudan is organizing a group of trained mediators to assist in resolving the conflicts. This year also brings the added threat of the Coronavirus – some initial random tests have confirmed the presence of Covid-19 in the IDP camps near Juba, so we pray that the spread is contained.

The Presbyterian Church (USA) has several resources to use in worship or to learn more about the situation of refugees around the world. Specifically, here is a PDF that has two prayers for refugees and a lament for South Sudan written by one of Bob’s students. We look to God, who says repeatedly that he looks out for those who are oppressed and suffering, and that he cares for their welfare. We pray that God will continue to sustain them, that in His mercy they will feel safe to return home, and that the praises and prayers from Nuer United Presbyterian Church will continue to bless God and the community around them and remind them of the hope that they have in our God who came and suffered with us and for us.

He defends the cause of the fatherless and the widow, and loves the foreigner residing among you, giving them food and clothing. And you are to love those who are foreigners, for you yourselves were foreigners in Egypt.  Dueteronomy 10:18-19

A New Language

The Sunday evening rally was organized by the local chapter of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) and a local organization called “Not in My Town,” an organization committed to anti-bigotry and anti-bullying.  Within twenty four hours, the planners were able to organize this rally for justice and one thousand concerned citizens showed up at the promenade outside the Law and Justice Center in downtown Bloomington, Illinois. 

When we arrived a few minutes before 5pm, people were standing and sitting and many were holding signs and placards with messages such as “White Silence is Violence” and “We Remember George Floyd” and “Black Lives Matter.”  Even upon arrival, one could viscerally feel the emotion, the pathos, the pain.  We felt compelled to come and show solidarity and concern, but being at any type of rally felt strange and new for us.  We were at the back of the crowd, where it was often difficult to hear the speaker.  A person would speak for a short time and then chants would cascade across the promenade, the crowd shouting “No justice, no peace” or “I can’t breathe” or “Say his name…George Floyd” or “Black Lives Matter.”  For me to say “I can’t breathe” out loud with the group helped me to enter into the moment and the pain.  To be honest, it was mildly difficult for me to voice those words.  While I struggled to utter and internalize the unutterable words of a man killed within the last week, I felt like I needed to verbalize and internalize these words.  I needed to enter into the pain of George Floyd and the others gathered to promote justice on this Pentecost Sunday. 

Rally for Justice in Bloomington, Illinois
Photo Credit:  Ryan Denham, WGLT

The following day Kristi and I participated with over one hundred staff of the Presbyterian Mission Agency to process and lament together.  Laurie Krauss, the director of Presbyterian Disaster Assistance (PDA), co-facilitated our shared time.  She framed our time by sharing how when the tongues of fire came down at Pentecost, people responded in one of two ways to the new languages they heard spoken.  Some were open to what God was doing while others dismissed the disciples as being drunk on wine.  Laurie suggested that the protests and riots happening in our country could be seen as a new language.  We can be open to the protests and the pain and ask, “Even though I don't understand what is going on, what message does God have for me and for us at this time?  Or, we choose to disengage from the messengers because we don’t understand or agree with the method. 

Kristi and I feel like we have been on a journey of learning the language of pain and protest from the African American community for several years now, though we often feel like new kids on the block.  With a group of fellow mission co-workers, we are currently reading a book called White Fragility:  Why It's So Hard for White People to Talk About Racism, by Robin DiAngelo  (link here).  We are also listening to black and brown voices share their pain and their hope for a better world.  One recent poignant interview was with Dr. Dwight Radcliff of Fuller Theological Seminary (podcast link here).  We are on a journey, trying to learn a new language, the language of pain and protest.  We will keep listening, keep reading, keep asking questions and keep showing up until we see a new heaven and a new earth rise up like a phoenix out of the broken ashes of our world, a world where division and poverty and racism hold sway.  We will keep holding court with Jesus in prayer and we will continue entering spaces which are not comfortable, forcing us to listen to “voices long silenced” and to narratives not our own.    

Friend, where are you on this journey?  What steps are you taking to understand the language of pain and protest?  We invite you to join us on this journey, a journey we believe to be transformative and healing. 

Rejoice with those who rejoice, mourn with those who mourn

We are hearing good news and difficult news from our colleagues in South Sudan. We wanted to share, so that you can rejoice with us and also pray.

1. PRAISE: A few new church buildings are going up - both in Juba and also in remote rural areas. One is a church plant near the edge of Juba, supported by a larger SSPEC congregation in Juba. Another is in the western town of Aweil, where a church elder from Juba visited and was inspired to give a significant contribution to help the church get their own land.

2.  In Pochalla, in the remote eastern region of South Sudan, the church has begun planting their cooperative farm for the second year. This is a significant opportunity for church members to work together to increase the food security and economic security of their community. Some farmers in that area have been killed recently, so please pray for protection as people work in the remote fields.

3. We grieve to hear of more than 200 people killed when youth of the Murle tribe attacked several villages of the Nuer tribe. Cattle were taken and several people abducted in the attack. These tribes have been in conflict for some time, and it appears this was a revenge attack. Inter-communal attacks have also happened in the Rumbek region, where I visited in early March. We continue to pray for peace and an end to these attacks! For more about this news and what the Presbyterian Church in South Sudan is doing to try to help, see this article.

4. Covid-19 is increasing quickly, with 655 confirmed cases as of May 25. We have heard from friends and the news that there seems to be an increase of people dying of suspicious causes, although not confirmed cases of Covid-19. Pray for the health system to keep up with the testing and treatment needed and for wisdom in the decisions made to contain the disease. Our colleague Rev. Philip Obang also laments the increase in hunger as many people are not able to work and activities are limited.

We are grateful that in Christ we are one body with our brothers and sisters in different parts of the world, and that we join together in rejoicing, grieving, and praying.

“Let us therefore approach the throne of grace with boldness, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.” Hebrews 4:16

Continuing Studies

Two weeks after arriving in Rwanda in March 2002, Antoine Rutayisire, my host, asked me, “So Bob, what made you decide to come and live and serve with us here in Rwanda?” I replied to Antoine, telling him that I came not only to serve but to learn more about the Rwandan story and the African experience. I felt that our two-week visits to Rwanda had merely skimmed the surface of the many issues I found interesting and concerning. Over the next two and half years, I would so learn much about the realities of Rwandans living in a post-Genocide context. I would participate with them in their healing, their challenges, their joys, and their sorrows.

In January 2005, I began a dual degree at Fuller Theological Seminary. On top of my Master of Divinity degree, I began a Master of Arts in Intercultural Studies (MAICS) degree, feeling a continued sense of call to cross-cultural ministry. A huge draw for the MAICS degree was the final writing project, or thesis, whereby I would continue critical reflection upon my mission experience. My final paper, entitled “Banana Tree Leaders,” focused upon how Rwandan church leaders are developed according to the Bible, the church, and their culture. The whole research process, which included a three-week trip to Rwanda, was highly informative. As I met with my research advisor and a friend, together they asked me, “Have you considered doctoral studies?”

As we lived and served in Congo, this question would stay with me. Issues regarding church and culture invite continual reflection. I wanted to dig in deeper with these issues and equip others to do the same. In the fall of 2016, I shared the idea of continuing studies with our Presbyterian World Mission leaders. They responded positively. In the spring of 2017 Dave Dawson of Shenango Presbytery connected me with Dr. Retief Müller of Stellenbosch University, South Africa. Retief encouraged me from the start, sharing the same research concerns and appreciation for many of the same scholars, practitioners of mission, and theologians. In Retief I found a kindred spirit. When I fell sick in 2017 with the Epstein Barr Virus, Retief was supportive and patient. His support continued when I reached out to him last year and asked if was still willing to serve as my advisor for a doctoral program. He agreed. I applied.

In late September 2019, I was accepted as a prospective candidate for a PhD program at Stellenbosch University in South Africa. I was “over the moon” with excitement. Last October Kristi and I were able to meet Retief in person for the first time in Grand Rapids, MI, where he has taken the post of Director of The Nagel Institute for the Study of World Christianity, while being retained by Stellenbosch as a research associate. The leadership and faculty at Nile Theological College, where I teach in Juba, South Sudan, support me in this endeavor, recognizing that advanced studies will strengthen the institution and make me a better teacher. During this current season of being in the U.S., I am writing my Research Proposal for full acceptance as a candidate. Kristi and I plan to continue our service in South Sudan as I continue my doctoral studies part-time from Juba.

The other night we watched an interview of Douglas Gresham, stepson to C.S. Lewis. Gresham was asked to remark on his memories of his stepfather, C.S. Lewis. Gresham recalled that “Jack” (Lewis) encouraged him to examine things, to not take anything at face value. In my continuing studies, I hope and pray to examine church and culture, not taking things at face value. Pray with me that my studies bring glory to God, further His Kingdom, and bless the African Church…

Life in South Sudan as Covid-19 encroaches

How has life in South Sudan changed during this global pandemic? There is certainly no grocery delivery service, no online school nor zoom meetings that replace in-person meetings. South Sudan started imposing restrictions in March, before there were confirmed cases of Covid-19 in the country, such as closing schools and prohibiting large social gatherings such as weddings and funerals. Restaurants can only sell food for takeout (which is not common in South Sudan), and nonessential businesses are closed. Travel to and from neighboring countries and between the states is now restricted. South Sudan has not ‘locked down’, and movement continues within local areas for people who are able to work.

There has been an aggressive education campaign to let people know the symptoms of the Covid-19 virus and how to prevent the spread of it. In South Sudan people speak 64 different languages, so it has been a big task to translate posters and other materials into these local languages. Our church partners have helped in this effort by volunteering to translate and distribute posters in rural areas. Church congregations have also helped to communicate the importance of hand-washing and social distancing, which is a real challenge in this gregarious and collective culture.

A poster about Coronavirus symptoms and 

prevention in the Anywak language

As the news and threat of Covid-19 increased in March, we had many conversations about the virus with our South Sudanese friends. Some seemed ambivalent – “We have so many other diseases that are here – malaria, typhoid, cholera. Now we have to deal with another one?” Others felt that the daily threat of hunger for many in South Sudan was more of a concern than this unknown and distant virus. Still others acknowledged that the country does not have adequate medical equipment or care, and that if the virus spread it could have devastating and deadly impact.

Sunday worship in March at a Juba congregation - 

fewer people gathered, and wore masks for protection

Several people that we talked to were hopeful – they have plenty of practice being in dire life and death situations, calling out to God as their only hope. We have been touched and humbled by several friends in South Sudan who have expressed their concern at the spread and impact of the virus in the U.S. and are praying for our country. Maybe God is reminding us to put our faith in the One who is Author of Life, and not primarily in our technology, government, or resources. While those things can certainly be helpful, this pandemic is a reminder that our hope and trust is in something that is beyond this life.

There are now five confirmed cases of this Coronavirus in South Sudan. South Sudan has some practice dealing with the threat of Ebola, so a special quarantine hospital was already built and ready to be used to isolate and treat Covid-19 patients. We pray that this does not spread, because there are camps with thousands of Internally Displaced Persons where it could wreak devastating consequences in a short time.

Buckets that are fitted with a spigot for hand-washing

Hunger is the biggest concern that we hear expressed from South Sudan. Just last year, some of our congregations started farm projects to help people start to farm again after a period of displacement. Hopefully that can continue and increase this year. However, a huge locust swarm is wreaking havoc all over East Africa, including in parts of South Sudan. Much of South Sudan’s food is imported from neighboring countries, but the virus crisis has increased prices as supplies and transport gets restricted. Pray with us for God’s provision and protection on people that have already suffered so much. Presbyterian World Mission is in process of sending some support for food relief and Cornavirus awareness which will help significantly. This crisis reminds us how much we need each other and the value of a family of faith that connects us across the distance and the differences that divide us.

Suddenly Relocated

Exactly one month ago, in mid-March as the Coronavirus was spreading all over the world, we were stocking up on food in Juba and preparing to 'shelter-in-place' and work from home for awhile. We knew that given the very limited medical facilities in South Sudan, we had to make every effort not to get exposed to this new and virulent virus.

wearing our masks as we went through the New York airport

Saturday morning, March 21, we received a message from the leadership of Presbyterian World Mission, requesting that all mission personnel return to the U.S. if possible. That same morning, we learned that there was a government directive in South Sudan closing all schools for at least 30 days, which would include Nile Theological College. Given both those factors, we realized that it was best for us to act quickly in responding to this request, although it was an abrupt change in direction from the perspective we had had that week.  Within a few hours we had booked flights to return to the U.S. and spoken with our colleagues in South Sudan to share these sudden plans. We left Sunday, the following day, flying through Addis Ababa, Istanbul, and New York before landing in Chicago. We learned later that the airport in Juba was closed indefinitely the following day to protect South Sudan from incoming travelers who might be infected.

Most of the flights on the board were cancelled from Istanbul

It took us a few days to emotionally reconcile ourselves to being away from home and in this strange environment of lockdown in the U.S. We find ourselves praying more for our hurting world, especially since we now find ourselves in the the midst of the country most affected by it. We are trying to stay in touch with colleagues in South Sudan, doing what we can to support our church partners as they walk through this crisis. We are also using the extra time to do some research, writing, and projects that had been on the 'back burner'. In our spare time, we are watching spring unfold in the Midwest - a glorious reminder that God is sovereign and the author of life. We join you in praying for an end to this pandemic, and hope that we can return to South Sudan soon!

Empowering Leaders

Some few years ago Jurgens Hendriks, a South African public theologian, gave an address to a gathering of Christian leaders in Kampala, Uganda. He asked the group, “What is the most important mark of leadership?” After sharing many worthy responses, it became clear that the group had not found the answer he was looking for. Jurgens then asked the group, “Who is the best and most memorable leader in Africa?” Well, that was an easy question – “Nelson Mandela!” With their response, the answer to the original question then dawned on them. The most important mark of leadership is the ability to relinquish leadership, precisely what Madiba* did after just one term in elected office. The most important mark of leadership is letting go, allowing others to step forward, empowering others to go beyond one’s efforts.

In February 2018, the principal of Nile Theological College (NTC) in Juba, South Sudan, asked me to resurrect the college newsletter. When I responded, I told him that I would take on this task with one condition, that I would recruit a group of students and staff to assist me. I took the rest of the semester to pray about which students to approach for this initiative. By the end of the semester I approached four students and one staff member. They all agreed enthusiastically, in fact, they felt honored to have been asked.  

The following semester we took action. By God’s grace we produced the first newsletter in eight years. It was a boon to the college, students even contributing from their own meager funds to help with print production. The following semester we again tackled this task with fervor. We doubled the length of the newsletter and invited more contributors. We circulated the newsletter electronically to partners worldwide and published 70 copies to distribute to partners and churches throughout South Sudan. I was deliberate throughout, ensuring that each student had a role and felt ownership of the work, walking alongside them in their respective roles. 

With students, creating NTC Newsletter (September, 2018)   

After a season of prayer and discernment, we selected and approached three more students from the new class to join us. Now, the biggest hurdle stood before us. I was leaving for the U.S. and would be gone for five months, the entire second semester. After a time of prayer, as a group we selected David Dach to take my role as leader and to facilitate the work of the “Media Team,” as we now called ourselves. To be honest, I was not sure whether the Media Team would succeed in my absence. Creating a newsletter is a big job with lots of technical features. Though I had spent countless hours with the students, I knew it would be a formidable challenge. You can only imagine my joy when I learned from the principal they had succeeded. “Neshkur’Rabuna!” (Thanks be to the Lord!).

Returning to South Sudan in January I began praying about my involvement with the Media Team. My teaching responsibilities would resume, but I was also starting my research proposal for a doctoral program. After speaking with the principal, we both resolved that the way forward was for David Dach or another student to continue as leader and that I would support them in an ancillary role. A few days later I requested David to call a meeting. David prepared our agenda which included turning leadership back over to me. I took a deep breath and said a prayer before I was given the chance to speak. I told the students that I had a “surprise” to share with them. I laid out for them the vision for how we could move forward together with new roles, for David to continue leading us, if he was willing, and for me to support the team as consultant or adviser. The students were surprised! However, as they processed out loud together this new configuration, they saw the wisdom in it. They lamented how leaders in their context never release younger leaders into roles of authority and leadership. They mentioned how leaders should even “pray that those whom they lead would surpass them!” It felt like a paradigm shift and a moment of emotional catharsis was occurring right before my eyes in the hearts and minds of my students. 

NTC Media Team (March, 2020)

With the current Covid-19 coronavirus situation, NTC has closed its doors for 30 days. That will hurt the Media Team with the momentum we have gained. Again, I am back in the U.S., probably for 3-4 months at least because of this global crisis. Nevertheless, I am prayerfully confident and hopeful that we will produce at least one newsletter this year. More importantly, our students are being empowered to lead with faculty and staff encouraging and supporting them from the rear. “Leadership,” as one might say, “is better caught than taught.” I believe that David and the others have ‘caught’ some important principles of leadership, and I believe wholeheartedly that David and the team will go beyond where I could have taken them.  May God bless and multiply our efforts.

*Madiba is Nelson Mandela's clan name, a name of endearment.             

Small beginnings

A few weeks ago, before Coronavirus took over our thoughts here in South Sudan, I joined a meeting of women to talk about community development. Women gathered in a circle after the church service, many of them holding young children on their laps. I started the discussion by reflecting on John 10:10, where Jesus expressed his intention to give us ‘life, and life to the full.” What does that mean? That means that God cares about all aspects of our lives – our eternal souls, certainly, but also our bodies, relationships, work, and minds. If one part of our lives is unhealthy – such as a conflict with a family member, that will have an impact on the other parts of our lives. So how can we improve and promote health in all areas of life?

My colleague Elijah passed around a weaving that was in process. He asked the women to tell what they thought it was, or what they noticed. Several women suggested that it was a basket, or would become a woven bag for carrying things. Some said that they knew how to do this type of weaving. When something is at the beginning, there are many possibilities. Something looks small and insignificant at the beginning, but with slow progress can become something big, beautiful, and of great use. With that perspective we asked the women what some of their dreams are for their group. What impact could they have? Some of their top dreams included:

• Adult education (many of them had not gone very far in school, or could not read/write)
• Employment for women (perhaps through a store for selling handcrafts, or a farm)
• Strengthen them spiritually (including prayer, Bible study
• Trauma healing training
• Health awareness (e.g. about diseases, including cancer)

We then looked at each of these top goals or hopes they had for projects. What would be required in material or human resources for each? What resources did they have available? And finally we asked them to vote for which of these should be tackled first. Voting was a challenge, because all of these projects had value and felt like a priority to the women. But finally they decided that creating employment would be a task to tackle first, especially through trying to open a shop or have a cooperative that could sell some of the beautiful bead-work that the Anyuak tribe is known for.

They thought about some ways that they could save to get some capital for opening a shop. We talked about the planning and training that might be needed before they opened. The women, most of whom live in the neighborhood and do not have consistent work, are eager to collaborate. We talked about the need to continue to meet, to learn and plan together. Please pray for God’s wisdom and provision for these women in Lologo. And now that Coronavirus has made meetings risky, pray for wisdom in how we proceed!

The Thief Workshop

Each group presented their list of what they felt had been lost. I knew that each item on the list was significant, representing pain and suffering that was currently being experienced. We discussed which losses were common across all the groups. Some of the top items were human lives, truth, faith, respect, properties/land, peace, culture, and dignity. As he explained why ‘lives’ had been included on his group’s list of losses, one young man said with feeling, “all my brothers have been killed. I alone remain.” A woman reflected that one of the impacts of all the people killed is that people fear humans now more than animals.

The lists from each group of the things they have lost

This particular session of the Healing Hearts Transforming Nations workshop we call “the Thief workshop”, because we discuss the material or intangible things that have been lost or stolen from our communities. The first part of John 10:10 “The thief comes only to kill, steal, and destroy” shows us Satan’s active attempts to destroy the peace and life that God created and intended for us. Recognizing our losses and hearing the losses of others helps us to see that all of us have suffered and have a common enemy. Too often, we choose not to hear the pain of another group, preferring the illusion that I or my group has suffered the most.

At this workshop in Rumbek, I heard about the impact of the war and attacks by Arabs in the 80’s. Killings and attacks between different villages continue to happen, partly because of the very strong culture of revenge. I heard about children growing up in the cattle camp because their parents could not send them to school, who later join in cattle-raiding and attacks on communities. I talked to fathers who feel it is unsafe for them to stay at home with their families because people will come hunting for them. While Rumbek has been a center for education in its region and has produced some of the top leaders in South Sudan, the area continues to struggle with inter-communal attacks and insecurity.

Groups discussing what their communities had lost

During this session of the workshop, I could feel the somber mood and the weight of the words as people shared the impact of these losses in their communities. I got goose bumps, realizing that this was sacred space of being able to share openly the struggles that they saw or experienced. We discussed how these losses can lead to believing lies about ourselves, others, and God. We grieved together over the brokenness of families and communities.

We end the session by discussing the second part of John 10:10, “But I have come that you might have life, and have it to the full.” Jesus came, suffered, was killed, and rose again. Jesus, victorious over death, sin, and Satan, came to show us His Kingdom, marked by sacrificial love rather than greed and pursuit of power. Our victorious God, who loves us and sees us, is our hope for healing and restoration from what has been lost. After this session, a few women came up to me, clasped my hand and appeared to be expressing their thanks for this somber but meaningful discussion. I couldn’t understand their words in Dinka, but I know that God does, and that we can connect and lament together even across the language gap.