San Diego Union-Tribune (Sunday)
REFUGEES SAY THEIR FAITH SUSTAINS THEM
CATHI DOUGLAS: ST. LUKE’S EPISCOPAL CHURCH IN NORTH PARK HAS BEEN A CENTER OF WORSHIP, EDUCATION AND COMMUNITY SINCE AFRICANS FLEEING WAR BEGAN ARRIVING IN SAN DIEGO IN THE 1990S
Michael Maiwen left his homeland in Sudan 25 years ago and since then, from a distance, has protested wars in his country and South Sudan.
If he were to return to his homeland today, Maiwen acknowledges, he would be arrested as a government threat.
Joseph Jok, likewise, left Sudan decades ago.
“I was born in war, grew up in war, and now again there’s war,” Jok said. “It is never-ending.”
Both men are parishioners at St. Luke’s Episcopal Church in North Park, where they worship together with many other refugees from Africa.
They say their mutual faith sustains them as they learn about the recently rekindled violence wracking their homeland.
“Joseph and his wife host Bible study in Arabic every week,” explains Maiwen, who works as the church’s bookkeeper. “And in the bulletin every week the church congregation is asked to pray for us and those in Sudan and South Sudan. The church is always available to pray and to respond with help for those who need it.
“The support for us is wide in the church,” he says. “We talk as a group about how we can offer support to anyone who needs it.”
A center for community
St. Luke’s began experiencing an influx of Sudanese and South Sudanese refugees in the late 1990s, said Laurel Mathewson, who is co-pastor at St. Luke’s, with her husband, Colin Mathewson.
In the years since, St. Luke’s has operated as a multicultural church, offering Sunday services in English but with gospel readings in either Swahili or Arabic.
Besides its Sudanese and South Sudanese members, St. Luke’s has a sizable population of refugees from Uganda, Colombia and other developing countries.
“Some of these people have spent 20 years or more, many in refugee camps in Tanzania, before coming to the U.S.,” she says. “Many of them worshipped in Anglican churches in Sudan or attended Anglican services in the refugee camps.”
Maiwen and other church members note that by reaching out to support refugees and their families, the co-pastors and congregation are living the spirit of their Christian faith.
“They are fulfilling the promise of God to welcome strangers into their house, their lives, their house of worship, and into their family,” he notes. “They’ve been consistent in their faith and show it to all people who meet them, especially immigrants.”
‘Welcome the stranger’
Having lost family members in his homeland over the years, Jok says he’s long appreciated the extraordinary community support St. Luke’s offers — support that continues in the ongoing Sudanese turmoil.
“Our Christian faith encourages us to welcome the stranger,” he says. “You serve God in the people you’re welcoming.”
The present unrest in Sudan isn’t unusual, Jok adds. “Sudan won its independence in 1956, but over the past 50 to 60 years we’ve enjoyed less than 10 years of calm and peace.”
Even so, adds the freelance interpreter, “Khartoum was stable for many years, but it’s not stable now.”
The conflict is on all the refugees’ minds, he notes. “It’s devastating to all of us.” St. Luke’s, however, helps him handle his worries about Sudan through prayer.
“They have a very structured way of addressing our needs, and we have had good support.”
Having joined St. Luke’s in 1998, Jok has served in a number of lay parish positions, including as senior warden during a time when the parish had no priest and as the refugees’ liaison to the church.
Most, if not all, African refugees “have a story that would break your heart,” Jok says.
He and his compatriots have a great need for a place to go and people who make them feel welcome and understood.
“They don’t know if they’ll ever be normal again,” he says. “Someone in their faith community from their homeland assisting helps them, despite all the tragedy, to trust God.”
Because he’s been through it, reaching out to fellow refugees is gratifying.
“People here extended a helping hand to me, and I feel fulfilled to reach out to others,” Jok said. “Every time I see someone needing help and then succeeding, getting their first car, their children going to college — these things make me really happy.”
“There’s a real sense of accomplishment,” Jok concludes. “We came from a place of total destruction, and now we are in a place of pride.”
“People here extended a helping hand to me, and I feel fulfilled to reach out to others. Every time I see someone needing help and then succeeding, getting their first car, their children going to college — these things make me really happy.”
Joseph Jok