The Pilgrimage of Peace
‘The Pope just waved at me! Do you think he recognised me?’ I shouted through the noise of the crowd.
‘Apparently he has a really good memory’ said Archbishop Justin’s chaplain affirmingly.
I’d been standing at the verge of the red carpet, which cut a long line from ‘Shepherd One’, through the baking tarmac at Juba airport. Huge freshly printed PVC welcome signs bearing Pope Francis’, Archbishop Justin’s and Moderator Ian’s larger than life faces covered the railings, as a flank of battered military trumpets unleashed a fanfare under the hot sun.
This was one year ago this week, when I was a part of the Archbishop of Canterbury’s small entourage for the 3 day ‘Pilgrimage of Peace’ in South Sudan.
I’d met the Pope four years prior on a previous trip with the ABC to the Vatican. The Vice President of South Sudan, Riek Machar had, by then, been in hiding for five years, following an outpouring of violence in the capital, when forces loyal to him and those loyal to President Salva Kiir had turned on one another. Archbishop Justin had sent a team to reach out to Riek Machar and managed to convince him and the President to meet in the Vatican to work out their differences. It was on this famous occasion that the Pope had knelt down, through the pain of arthritic knees, to kiss the feet of the two leaders. In the days following that historic meeting, Riek Machar was peacefully reinstated as First Vice President.
I was at the Vatican in 2019 and now in Juba to help rebuild confidence in the South Sudanese Peace Process and to cast light on the incredible unseen work of the global Anglican Church and its affable leader. This is what I do for my work - I tell stories and produce creative campaigns that help to restore trust between organisations, or institutions like the church, and the public. The problem is that people don’t often seem to want to know about the good stuff. Stories that affirm the church as harmful or irrelevant make for much more satisfying reads.
In the week leading up to the ‘Pilgrimage of Peace’, the newspapers were hot with scandal about our South Sudanese host, Archbishop Justin Badi Arama. He had publicly stated that the church of South Sudan would likely decide to renounce his namesake and boss as leader of the Anglican Communion.
Archbishop Badi wears an upside-down smile, but his eyes are kind and discerning. On our arrival at the Episcopal guesthouse, the team prayed together with him in his office. His voice was soft and sincere as we petitioned God for peace. Throughout the trip, the Archbishop Justins were together frequently. They were brotherly and respectful and clearly both loved the Anglican Church as their own.
On the 2nd day of the tour, between 50,000 and 70,000 South Sudanese gathered in the John Garang Mausoleum - Juba’s vast and dusty outdoor arena, which has the appearance of the remains of an ancient Olympic stadium cast in concrete. Many had walked for days to be there and they were about to witness the first prayer service ever to be jointly hosted by the heads of the Catholic and Anglican churches in their 700 year history.
As a Catholic nun said to me the morning after, hushed and sweet with a spiritual hangover, ‘No political leader in this country could rally 70,000 people willingly, walking through the night, not sleeping for two days to attend this spiritual event. Nobody talked about which tribe will enter …no they just come from all languages and all corners.’
In a country that has experienced an estimated 400,000 deaths since 2013 from internal conflict …and in a world where the Catholic-Protestant wars throughout history have led to millions of other lives being lost, this was good news.
Being a part of this may be the greatest privilege I will ever have. We had good global coverage and made the headlines in most of the UK’s major news channels. Within a week of our return, though, the noise of scandal returned to drown out the good news again. Weeds amongst wheat.
Working to build public faith in the church can be disheartening at times, but there are always reasons to keep going. Here are four that keep me going:
Without hope and trust there is only chaos. What else would we do?
Every human organisation is imperfect and often scandalously hurtful, but that’s rarely all they are. Positive stories give us the imagination to work towards something better, whilst shaming the people who seek division and destruction.
Despite the media’s appetite for it, scandal and conflict never has the final word. Often those in conflict are the ones who love the thing they’re fighting over the most. Good conflict can resolve in healing and hope.
Popularity comes and goes, but credibility is the most important thing. Credibility is established over a longer period of time, often through unremarkable actions that go under the radar. But then sometimes great acts of hope burst through the surface: Popes kissing the feet of warring leaders; or once warring religious leaders leading multitudes in prayer for unity in war-torn countries.
When those stories emerge, we are here to tell them.