"The inspiring and challenging witness of those who share in the sufferings of Christ."

William Saunders is a human rights lawyer from Washington, D.C. He spent this past Christmas in Sudan, Africa, after one of the bishops of that country extended him an invitation. We’ve heard a lot in recent weeks about the atrocities in Yugoslavia, and we’ve been horrified at the so-called "ethnic cleansing" that’s been occurring there. Unfortunately, however, Yugoslavia is not unique. There are also many other places in the world where similar attacks are currently taking place against Christians, and against other ethnic and religious groups. Sudan, sad to say, is one of those places. In writing about his Christmas experience, William Saunders said, "Sudan is a land of murder, slavery, and man-made famine, a land where a brutal and tyrannical government wages war on its own people, particularly the Christian and animist black ethnic groups of the south." And so it should come as no surprise that the Sudanese Catholic Church has become a prime target of persecution in recent years: first of all, because the government is Muslim; and, secondly, because the Church supports basic human rights and religious freedom for everybody. That means, quite simply, that the Church finds itself opposing the oppressive policies of the government. Not a smart thing to do in Sudan these days--if you value your life and your property! And so, when the Church builds a school in one of the refugee camps around the capital city of Khartoum, the government normally has it destroyed with a bulldozer. Bishops and priests have been arrested on trumped-up charges; some have been tortured; and some have actually been threatened with crucifixion. It makes me exceedingly grateful to be a priest in Westerly, R.I.

After he arrived last December, Saunders went with the bishop on a pastoral visit to some of the villages in the Nuba mountains. (These mountains are located in the central part of the country.) There the people (Christian, Muslim and pagan alike) are forced to live like hunted animals. As much as possible, they keep themselves hidden, living in little huts that are very well camouflaged. Why? Because the government regularly patrols the area with planes that are loaded with bombs. And whenever they spot one of these isolated villages, they drop their bombs. So here we have a group of people who look death in the face each and every day. But what amazed Saunders was the attitude of so many of the Catholics he met there. Amazingly, in spite of the horror they’re forced to deal with on a daily basis, they have a positive, joyful attitude--an attitude that’s rooted in their strong faith. As he later wrote:

"Shortly after our arrival [a few days before Christmas] a group of the bishop’s parishioners arrived to greet him with singing, dancing and drumming. This was repeated by other groups over the next few days. Sometimes they came from local villages, sometimes from villages many hours (even many days) away. Always there was joy. They sang unfamiliar songs and Christian hymns; they played on drums made from logs, coffee cups and empty shrapnel shells; they carried . . . homemade crosses. As I witnessed their joy at the presence of their ‘outlawed bishop’, the words of the gospel came to mind: ‘Blessed are you when men hate you, and revile you, and denounce your name as criminal, on account of the Son of Man! Rejoice in that day, and dance for joy’ (Luke 6: 22-23)."

When I read about all this a couple of weeks ago, I thought of the words we heard a few moments ago in our second reading from 1 Peter 4: "Rejoice to the extent that you share in the sufferings of Christ, so that when his glory is revealed you may also rejoice exultantly. If you are insulted for the name of Christ, blessed are you, for the Spirit of glory and of God rests upon you. But let no one among you be made to suffer as a murderer, a thief, an evildoer, or as an intriguer. But whoever is made to suffer as a Christian should not be ashamed but glorify God because of the name."

It is said that this century has produced more Christian martyrs than any other previous century. That is a startling fact, when you think what the Roman emperors did to so many of our brothers and sisters during the first few centuries of Christianity. People in the 1900’s have suffered and died for their faith not only in Sudan, but also in China, in the old Soviet Union, in Nazi Germany, in other parts of Africa and Asia, in Central America--almost everywhere on the planet.

Most of us--thankfully--will probably not be called upon to give that type of witness to Christ. But what about the witness that we are called upon to give?! No, we might never be boiled in oil or crucified upside down if we stand up for our Catholic faith, but other things might happen: we might be ridiculed by co-workers or fellow students or teachers; we might suffer economically, or socially, or politically; we might not be accepted by a certain group of peers; we might be called "narrow-minded" or "old fashioned" or "reactionary". Are we committed enough to Christ and his Church to say, "Yes, I am willing to endure this type of persecution, as small as it might be compared to the sufferings of my brothers and sisters in places like Sudan?" Unfortunately, many Catholics in the western world are not committed enough, which is why so many of them say, "I am a Catholic, but . . . " They know it’s much easier to compromise their faith--especially on moral issues--than it is to defend it. And this is true for Christians of other denominations as well. Just ask our illustrious president. He used to be pro-life, you know--until he decided that he might suffer politically for taking that position. Bishop Sheen had an interesting way of describing our situation here in the United States and in the west. He said, "In so many other places throughout the world, our brothers and sisters are suffering for their faith, and here we are at ease, just undergoing a slight test of dividing our loyalty between Christ and the world."

God, you see, has been very good to us. In his great mercy he has spared us the horrors that so many other Christians in this century have had to face. He has only given us a slight test--not a major exam. But the slight test, like the major exam, does have eternal consequences--and we need to remember that.

May the witness of the Catholics of Sudan--the witness they are now giving in the midst of a very tough exam--inspire us to be fully committed followers of Christ as we undergo our little tests of faith. And may the powerful witness of two Colorado teenagers do the same. In the tragedy at Columbine High School three weeks ago, 17 year-old Cassie Bernall and 18 year-old Valerie Schnurr were in the library. Cassie was reading her Bible when the two armed students burst through the door and began shooting. One of them came up to Cassie, saw what she was doing and said, "Do you believe in God?" She responded, "Yes, I believe in God." In a mocking tone of voice he said, "Why?" and he immediately shot her to death. Valerie had already been hit at close range by one of the initial shotgun blasts. As one of the murderers stood over her, he noticed that she was praying. He asked her, "Do you believe in God?" Without any hesitation whatsoever she responded, "Yes, I do." At that, he began to reload his weapon. Valerie was convinced that she too was about to be killed. However, all of a sudden, the murderer was distracted and left. Incredibly, she survived. None of her vital organs was wounded by the shotgun blast. Valerie is a parishioner of St. Frances Cabrini Catholic Church in Littleton. I wonder what will run through her mind when she hears this text from 1 Peter at her Church today? "Rejoice to the extent that you share in the sufferings of Christ, so that when his glory is revealed, you will rejoice exultantly. If you are insulted for the name of Christ, blessed are you, for the Spirit of glory and of God rests upon you." Those words probably will bring her more hope, and comfort, and consolation, and joy than they ever have before.

Let me conclude today with something that Cassie Bernall wrote on the Sunday before she died. Her brother found this little poem on her desk at home after he learned that his sister had been killed. It's as if she had a sense of what was about to happen. It's my prayer that these words will inspire all of us to be living witnesses to our Catholic faith--regardless of the cost.