Remembering Persecuted Christians This Lent

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As the daffodils blossom, the days brighten up, and the bluebells chime - the scent of hope should be in the air - and yet lockdown, the state’s heavy hand, overshadows the joy normally associated with the Spring season, as the world has been forced to endure the government’s extended Lenten period for the past year. We have given up all human contact - all human affection - everything that makes us who we are as social beings. And the hopes of celebrating Easter with our families have long been dead, buried, and cremated.

In the West, we often half-heartedly recount the events of Christ’s death on the cross and resurrection as legends of the distant past. Christians attend Easter services, and complain of feeling rejected or ignored in a post-Christian, secular world. We assume that today, all people share the same privileges to practise their faith. We fail to recognise that Christians across the world are reliving these stories, as Herod lives on in the actions of contemporary tyrants, who seek to oppress, suppress, and eliminate all those who refuse to conform.

Just last December, 750 Christians were massacred in the region of Tigray in Northern Ethiopia. The Christian-majority Tigrayans are threatened daily with looting and pillaging despite the lack of coverage from the Western media. The sad reality is that instances like these are not unique occurrences, as Christianity is currently the most persecuted religion worldwide. 

In Syria the number of Christians has decreased to fewer than 450,000. In Nigeria the situation is particularly harrowing. One terrorist group, the Fulani militants, regularly attack Christian farming villages in northern Nigeria, displacing thousands of Christians from their homes and causing devastating food shortages. In 2020 alone, 2,200 Christians were killed by Fulani militants and Boko Haram, the largest terrorist group in Nigeria. Occurrences like these remind us that “taking up the cross” is more than a symbolic gesture of humility for many Christians around the world.

Even at Christmas, whilst we enjoyed our Christmas turkey and candlelit services, Nigerian Christians feared for their lives. On Christmas Eve, Boko Haram destroyed two churches in Pyemi and Garkida. Currently, thousands of women across Nigeria are still held hostage by Boko Haram.

In response to this ongoing tragedy, Nigeria was finally added to the US Department of State’s Countries of Particular Concern list for ‘severe violations of religious freedom’. One Nigerian evangelical leader, Gideon Para-Mallam, called the decision “long overdue”. The Nigerian government has failed to even acknowledge that Christian persecution is a real problem, under the guise of that bureaucratic sentiment of non-confrontation and fake-neutrality. 

Evidently, persecution can put on sheep’s clothing. In China, the communist regime’s aim is to make all ‘recognised’ religions an arm of the state. In order to strengthen its grip on Catholicism, for instance, the Communist government formed the ‘Chinese Patriotic Catholic Association’, which nominates Communist-sympathetic bishops, so that the state can have a firm grasp over the beliefs, attitudes, and thoughts of the faithful. In this context, many Catholics formed the ‘underground’ Church - to resist the state’s encroachment into the Catholic tradition, as well as to celebrate in a community somehow more legitimate than the ‘aboveground’ Church, which was often perceived as schismatic. While the Bishop of Hong Kong, Cardinal Zen was instrumental in his support for the underground church, these underground churches are, naturally, persecuted by the Chinese state.

In 2018, Pope Francis authorised a new deal with the Chinese Communist government, in which the Patriotic Catholic Association could nominate bishops for authorisation from Rome. The Vatican agreed to legitimise bishops that were already appointed by the CCP, and to limit religious instruction for those under the age of 18. This deal has been widely criticised for its apparent betrayal of the underground church; of Taiwan (Republic of China); as well as of the long-standing legacy of key figures such as Cardinal Zen.

In August this year, under the veil of the Covid-dominated media, Jimmy Lai - the infamous journalist and democracy-advocate and one of the most important Catholic laymen in China - was arrested on the grounds of national security. The Vatican has remained silent. Lai’s appeal has been dismissed, and he is due to remain in prison for the foreseeable future. With 10 million Catholics and over 100 million Protestant Christians in China, Lai’s story is not an isolated one this year. The Uyghurs, the Tibetans, and all manner other ethnic and religious minorities continue to face persecution.

In a certain sense, in the West, we must acknowledge that the persecution of Christians is not merely one imposed by totalitarian governments - but that we are all in some sense complicit. Our governments hold trade and diplomatic relations - we veil ourselves in ignorance - and we so often fail to set an example for persecuted groups by curtailing our own fundamental rights to freedom of assembly, thought, and religion. Further, it is a grave mistake to think of ourselves as immune from such tragic misuse of power, which always begins by an attempt to suppress our freedoms.

Covid-19 has crowded out many of the injustices that continue to plague our fallen world. We continue to think that if we just roll out the vaccine, or if we just tweak our economic or political system, all of the world’s problems would vanish and we would be able to ride into the sunlit uplands. However we fail to see that there is no quick fix to the underlying problem of our own corrupted states. There is something wrong with the human condition - and there has been something wrong - long before the era of Covid. 

In the West, the brutal death of Jesus on the cross is but a fleeting symbol for us, as we continue to entertain our doubts about the truth of the Christian system. Yet as we have seen, there couldn’t be a greater consolation to persecuted Christians than the definitive cry of the Cross - that Jesus died for us - that He suffers with us and knows what it means to be in pain. That haunting image of Mary Magdalene weeping over the Tomb will never ring as true to us. We will likely never experience the feelings of a heartbroken mother as she weeps over the body of her son.

As we half-heartedly rewatch The Passion of the Christ - sulking over how masks and social distancing have ruined our lives, we are called to remember our persecuted brethren. Although there is seemingly little we can do, we must reflect on their lives because that’s what it means to be human - to be empathetic, compassionate, and to look upon the heartbreak of our brothers and sisters with great kindness and love. Pontius Pilate washing his hands at the face of injustice always seems so inhuman - and yet this reflects all of us and our complicit distance from the Persecution.

For Christians, Jesus came to save the world, and would eventually conquer sin and death by rising from the Cross. Through His resurrection, Jesus showed us that death, evil, and all the powers of this world do not have the final say.

…. As Herod and Pilate lurk in the shadows - so do we look forward to Easter.

Clara Morrissey (Ex-Communications Director) and Sea-Yun Pius Joung are second years reading Theology and Religion at Keble and Oriel colleges respectively.

Sources Cited