Bishop Zac Niringiye
2018 Stott-Bediako Forum
Manila, Philippines
14th-15th September 2018
Introduction
On the eve of the National Day for the Celebration of Uganda’s Independence Jubilee – the night of 8 October 2012, the Uganda Jubilee Network, a loose alliance of Christian leaders, pastors, churches and organisations, together with the Covenant Nations Church (whose pastor is the daughter of President Museveni), organised an overnight prayer vigil. The venue was the Nelson Mandela National Stadium and the honoured guest was the President of Uganda, Gen. Yoweri Museveni. The event was attended by hundreds of Christians from around Kampala. When the President took to the podium, he prayed:
Father God in heaven,
Today we stand here as Ugandans, to thank you for Uganda. We are proud that we are Ugandans and Africans. We thank you for all your goodness to us.
I stand here today to close the evil spiritual past and especially in the last fifty years of our national leadership history and at the threshold of a new dispensation in the life of this nation.
I stand here on my own behalf and on behalf of our past leaders to repent.
We ask for your forgiveness for our own sins, and those of our past leaders:
We confess these sins which have greatly hampered our national cohesion and delayed our political, social and economic transformation:
Sins of idolatry and witchcraft, so rampant in our land;
Sins of shedding innocent blood;
Sins of political hypocrisy, dishonesty, intrigue and betrayal;
Sins of pride, tribalism and sectarianism;
Sins of laziness, indifference and irresponsibility;
Sins of corruption and bribery that have eroded our national resources;
Sins of sexual immorality, drunkenness & debauchery;
Sins of un-forgiveness, bitterness, hatred and revenge;
Sins of injustice, oppression and exploitation;
Sins of rebellion, insubordination, strife and conflict;
These and many others have characterised our past leadership, especially the last fifty years of our history. Lord forgive us, and give us a new beginning. Give us a heart to love you, to fear you and to seek you. Remove far from us all the above sins.
We pray for national unity. Unite us as Ugandans and eliminate all forms of conflict, sectarianism and tribalism. Help us to see that we are all your children. Children of the same Father; help us to love and respect one another and to appreciate unity in diversity.
We pray for prosperity and transformation. Deliver us from ignorance, poverty and disease. As leaders, give us wisdom to help lead our people into political, social and economic transformation.
We want to dedicate this nation to you so that you will be our God and guide. We want Uganda to be known as a Nation that fears God. A nation, whose foundations are firmly rooted in righteousness and justice. Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord. A people you have chosen as your own. Psalms 33:12
I renounce all the evil Foundations and Covenants that were laid in Idolatry & Witchcraft. I renounce all the satanic influence on this nation.
And, hereby Covenant Uganda to you, to walk in your ways and experience all Your blessing for ever. In the Name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, Amen.
The prayer was shared with me by an American pastor, who was aware of the historical woes of Uganda. Although I was aware of the event, I did not know the content of the President’s prayer. His point to me – the reason for sharing the prayer – was that I should be encouraged; that the President’s public prayer and its content were a clear indication that Uganda was on the right path; that, Uganda was on a course for peace, prosperity, national healing and reconciliation. His optimism is understandable, once one locates it in the ritualization of prayer, and domination-power narratives that typify Christian understanding and practice today. Indeed at a superficial level, a President praying for the closing of the “evil spiritual past and especially in the last 50 years of our national leadership history and at the threshold of a new dispensation in the life of this nation” sounds hopeful. But the contrary is sadly true.
Uganda today is not more stable than it was six years ago, when the President renounced “… all the evil foundations and covenants that were laid in idolatry and witchcraft…all the satanic influence…” and covenanted Uganda to God, “… to walk in your ways and experience all your blessing for ever. In the Name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.” Space would not allow chronicling crisis upon crisis and the violence that have typified life in Uganda over the last six years: violent crimes; unresolved murders[1]; and, assassinations[2], notably twelve high-ranking Muslim leaders (sheikh) gunned down in a span of three years, 2012-2015[3]. As is always the case, political violence escalated in the period running to and after the General elections that took place February 2016. Two notable incidents, simply as examples: in November 2016, the army together with other security agencies attacked, burned down and massacred hundreds of people at the palace of one of the Cultural institutions – the Rwenzururu Kingdom in Kasese District, Western Uganda[4]. The government tried to justify their actions as aimed at flushing out suspected criminals who had reportedly sought refuge in the palace.[5] The second are several murders in cold blood of key figures in government and society: in March 2017, unknown people gunned down the Assistant Inspector General of Police (AIGP), and in a manner eleven other people before him, including a senior prosecutor.[6] The recent spate of gruesome murders targeting young women, involving rape, strangling and the brutal violation of their genitals[7] is another spectacle. The situation reached crisis proportions in September 2017 causing Uganda Parliament to suspend business in order to force Museveni’s government to account to the country for the spate of murders of over 20 women in the span of about three months, in the central region of Uganda[8]. Due to the continuing violence in the country and the state of uncertainty about the future of the country, there is a chorus of calls for a national dialogue process[9], in the hope that it could help address the roots of violence in Uganda, among many issues.
A praying President presiding over a violent regime, hosted by praying pastors and churches, illustrates the conundrum of African Christianity in the face of un-ending political violence. But it also highlights how religion, in general, and Christianity, in particular, have been used in constructing as well as legitimising narratives of political violence. We are faced with two contradicting narratives in Africa: firstly, of the massive spreading and growth of Christianity in Africa since the 1990s – dubbed as the wonder of the contemporary missionary movement[10]; and, secondly, endemic violent conflicts across Africa, leading to breakdown of societies and failing states. The contradiction poses questions: Why is this this the case, when the spread of Christianity ought to bring about positive transformation of society? Where are the churches in the story of political violence in Africa? We need to answer these questions, before we propose a way in which Churches in Africa could engender justice and reconciliation. It behooves us therefore to ask the prior question: ‘What are the roots of political conflicts in Africa?’
These questions are critical for the churches in Africa and should be a concern for all who self-identity as Christians anywhere in the world. There are at least two reasons: firstly, the same contradiction is evident elsewhere in the world; and, secondly, the fact that the continent of Africa is a new centre of gravity for Christianity, means that not only are the lessons valuable but developments in African Christianity will have implications for Christianity worldwide.
I submit in this paper, that the roots of endemic violent political conflicts in Africa lie in the unjust social-economic- political structures, from the time of the colonial conquest. It is a fact of history, that not only is there something inherently wrong with the architecture of the African states, religion, in general, and Christianity, in particular, are part and parcel of this faulty architecture right from the colonial period. The Churches, like other communities in Africa, are captives to the narrative of violent conflict because inequality was part of the DNA of the Christianity that was transmitted, received and that continues to thrive in Africa. Therefore, for the Churches to embody and cast a vision of a new social order for African societies, countries and states, they need to be freed from this captivity.
I utilise praying as a paradigm of understanding the churches’ captivity and the way to redemption. Prayer is central to any religion, not least to Christianity. Prayer embodies story – the form and content of faith and its subject. It is at the heart of Christian living; relationship with God, the world and human community. Prayer is definitive of people and their faith; their identity and location in the world. Prayer is narrative. The rhythm of prayer encapsulates the Christian story or its distortions. Writing about the power of story, Emmanuel Katongole wrote:
Stories not only shape how we view reality but also how we respond to life and indeed the very sort of persons we become. In other words, we are how we imagine ourselves and how others imagine us. …. Who we are, and who we are capable of becoming, depends very much on the stories we tell, the stories we listen to, and the stories we live. Stories not only shape our values, aims, and goals; they define the range of what is desirable and what is possible. Stories, therefore, are not simply fictional narratives meant for our entertainment; stories are part of our social ecology. They are embedded in us and form the very heart of our cultural, economic, religious, and political worlds. This applies not only to individuals, but to institutions and even nations[11].
Narratives structure power relations – sometimes creating them and other times legitimating them, because narratives are not only passed on; they are also constructed. Narratives create imaginations about the world and how we inhabit it with the ’others’, because they form how we perceive ‘the other’, the one different from us with whom we inhabit the world, creating the ‘us’ and ‘them’, which then structures how we relate to them. They are essential to the way we live. Narratives shape belonging, beliefs and behaviour. Narratives create identity. Prayer embodies the Christian narrative in a way that no other act does
Therefore, I turn to Jesus’ teaching on prayer, in particular the occasion when ‘The Lord’s Prayer’ was given, to get to the heart of the Gospel story and therefore provide us narrative framework for interrogating the authenticity of forms of Christianity that are socialized in violence. It provides a path for the Churches in Africa (and elsewhere) to be freed from the captivity to violent conflicts, towards embracing and embodying the authentic Gospel narrative. The path is three-pronged: firstly coming to terms with distorted narratives of Christianity – narratives that position Churches in the arena of contestation to capture the public square; secondly, renouncing notions of conquest and domination that have characterised Churches’ engagement; and, thirdly, embracing a different way of presence, bearing witness to the Good news of God’s reign in Africa, seeking and pursuing the flourishing of human dignity in all its diversity and the flourishing of all creation. We have in the teaching of Jesus on prayer a radical proposition, that in order for Christian actors, individually and corporately, to contribute positively to processes of reconciliation, there is need for deconstructing and restructuring the architecture of engagement with political actors and political processes in Africa.
A History of inequality and violent conflicts – The Confluence of Christianity and Politics of colonial and neo-colonial states of Africa
As Robert D Lamb has put it, “state formation has always been an exceedingly bloody endeavour”[12], and so it is with the formation of African states. The colonisation process, by which African countries and states came into being, was a violent affair. African countries and states, as we know them today, were not by the will of the people. They were imposed on the nations and people of the various areas that were amalgamated to create them. They evolved through processes of conquest and manipulation of formal political formula and social-political bases. To secure the imposition, the colonial administration designed and formed state machinery that ensured control (securing the obedience of all the people) and resource extraction (to pay for the expenses of managing the state, as well as profit to the colonial governments). Violence and divide and rule, were the rules of the game.
Religion, in general, and Christianity, in particular, were part of the mechanisms for imposition and control. Religious affiliation was one of the group identities utilised in positioning for taking, negotiating and retaining political power. In addition to ethnic identity, it was the other main stratifying principle of society. Religion therefore became one of the instruments in drawing the lines in the patron-client structure. Uganda, which today boasts of one of the largest Christian population in Africa –with over 80% of the population claiming to adhere to one of many Christian denominations[13], provides a good case study. It is a typical case of how Christianity was part and parcel of the story of embedding violence and inequality in the colonial and neo-colonial state.[14]
The story began with the explorer-journalist, Henry Stanley Morton in 1875, who was sent by the Imperial British East African Company (IBEA) to scout the region for purposes of resource extraction. Stanley instigated the Kabaka of Buganda to request for missionaries of the Church Missionary Society (CMS) (Protestant) missionaries, as a way of securing British dominance. The pioneer missionaries arrived in 1877. But the Catholics were not to be outdone in the struggle for control of the ‘discovered’ lands. Thus the CMS missionaries were followed by the Catholic Order of White Fathers (Roman Catholic) in 1879. The two foreign religionists found Islam, already established in the Kingdom (having been introduced in 1840 by Arabs from the east coast). The defining moment in the process of British occupation were religious wars of 1880-1882, as each of these groups sought to capture the soul, and control of the kingdom of Buganda. First it was Muslims against Christians; then it was among the Christians – Protestants and Catholics, which ended with the victory of the Protestants aided by the colonial agent Captain Lugard over the Roman Catholics in 1882. Karugire has put it well; that the “religious wars in Buganda (1888-1892) married religion and politics in a manner that was to prove irreversible in the whole of Uganda to the present day”.[15]
It is well rehearsed story, how the CMS missionaries and their supporters in Britain (who, in order to secure the privileged position that they won) led the campaign to persuade a reluctant British government to establish a Protectorate over Buganda in 1894, and subsequently over the other areas, which were in a sense annexed to Buganda, to create Uganda. Thus the convergence of interests of the British colonialists and the Church Missionary Society (CMS) missionaries to subjugate the people to achieve their ends – of resource extraction and Christian missionary expansion, respectively, caused an alliance for British occupation. The establishment of colonial presence in Buganda was based on Protestant ascendency over rival religious factions.[16]
Although the story of Uganda is unique in some way, similar features are apparent in colonial Africa: violent conquest; missionary and colonial agents’ complicity in imposition of foreign hegemony; the embedding of conflict and rivalry in the religious configuration of emerging countries and states. This explains in part, why the transition to ‘stability’ for most of the African neo-colonial states– the process of imposition and codification of the order of the conqueror – did not fully mature. Violence was not “followed by an institutionalization of the values and social priorities of the victors, combined with some degree of accommodation for the vanquished across and within the new state’s borders”.[17] Even after independence, the same structures of rivalry and violence remained and were even deepened. George Ayittey observed:
After independence, African nationalist leaders did not dismantle the authoritarian colonial state. Rather they strengthened and expanded its scope. Subsequently, they abused and misused the power of the state to achieve their own selfish ends. Gradually, a “mafia state” evolved – a state that has been hijacked by the vampire elites, hustlers and gangsters, who operated with their own notorious ethic of selfish aggrandizementand self-perpetuation in power. The institutions of government were debauched, the country became the personal property of the ruling elites, and the meaning of such terms as “development” was perverted[18].
The introduction of a multiparty political system in the 1980s and 1990s simply deepened and in some way created political and legal legitimation of injustice and violence. Prof George B N Ayittey in his book Africa in Chaos, chronicles the collapse of African States in the 1980s and 1990s:
The destruction of an African country, regardless of the professed ideology of its government, always begins with some dispute over the electoral process. Blockage of the democratic process of the refusal to hold elections plunged Angola, Chad, Ethiopia, Mozambique, Somalia and Sudan into civil war. Hardliner manipulation of the electoral process destroyed Rwanda (1993), Sierra Leone (1992), and Zaire (1990). Subversion of the electoral process in Liberia (1985) eventually set off a civil war in 1989. The same type of subversion instigated civil strife in Cameroon (1991), Congo (1992), Kenya (1992) and Lesotho (1998). Finally the military’s annulment of electoral results by the military started Algeria’s civil war (1992) and plunged Nigeria into political turmoil (1993). All this destruction stemmed from the adamant refusal of one individual or the ruling elites to relinquish or share political power.[19]
Ayittey has submitted that the roots of what he names as the African crisis are the “two fundamental ailments: the defective political system of sultanism and the defective economic system of statism”. He has explained:
Sultanism or personal rule is the monopolization of political power by one individual, the grotesque forms being president-for-life and military dictatorship. By statism is meant state hegemony in the economy and the direction of economic activity or development by the state through such devices as price controls, legislative acts, regulations, state ownership of the means of production, and the operation of state enterprises.[20]
This characterisation is also termed neo-patrimonial, whereby public officials exercising their powers as a form, “not of public service but of private property” and “public office has been accepted as the route to personal wealth and power”[21]; ‘those’ who access political power have undue advantage over ‘others’ in accessing public goods and services and use that access for influence and control. Government is under no obligation to allocate benefits to the citizens according to recognized criteria of justice, efficiency or need, but rather does so to encourage political support. Typically, for neo-patrimonial states, it is politics of patronage and clientelism: the power relationship between the rulers and the ruled is a relationship of exchange, whereby those in power provide security in exchange for political support of those being (mis)ruled – politics of exclusion. Ayittey expressed this well:
Each crisis begins when an “educated” buffoon, civilian or military, assumes power through an election or a coup d’état. He then proceeds to entrench himself in office by amassing power and surreptitiously debauching all key government institutions: the military, the civil service, the judiciary, and the banking system. With all powers in his hands, he transforms the state into his personal property – to benefit himself, his cronies, and tribesmen, who all then proceed to plunder the treasury. All other who do not belong to this privileged class are excluded, as the politics of exclusion are practiced.
The tyrant employs a variety of tactics to decimate opposition to his rule: co-optation, bribery, infiltration, intimidation, and “divide and conquer”. Opposition leaders compound their weakness by their constant bickering. Out of frustration, a rebel group emerges from the excluded class and mounts a guerilla campaign to oust the despot and his cohorts from power or to secede, as in the Biafra secession in 1967. In the course of the insurgency, the guerilla movement splits into several factions, often along tribal lines. If the campaign to overthrow the regime succeeds the war drags on for years, even decades, as in Angola, Mozambique, and Sudan. If the head of state is ousted or killed, a power vacuum emerges and factional leaders battle ferociously to fill the void as in Somalia and Liberia.
Chaos and carnage ensue. Infrastructure is destroyed. Food production and delivery disrupted. Thousands are dislocated and flee, becoming internal refugees and placing severe strains on the social systems of the resident population. Food supplies run out. Starvation looms.[22]
Politics of exclusion: the contest for control of political power has been structured along group affiliations and identities; the access to public goods and services based on ethnic, regional, religious or other parameters of group identity serves as a means and an end. Writing about the political economy of Kenya, Michela Wrong has ably elaborated this situation in ‘It is Our Turn to Eat.[23] Benson too has expressed well how this works:
For the constituents, the success of their patron is their best hope of advancement – either bringing development projects to their district, or offering employment or other advantages. For the elite politician, the mass of supporters is the bargaining chip when he negotiates with his peers. The ebb and flow of support at the clan and sub-clan level is the stuff of Kenyan local politics.[24]
This has in turn led to inequalities and grievances arising from unjust and un-equal distribution and access to public goods and services – what scholars have called horizontal inequalities[25]. On one hand the political elite who seek to capture power use the horizontal inequalities to legitimize their pursuit of power; on the other hand, the various identities push for their ‘kin’ in the hope that their ascension to positions of power will guarantee re-dress to the inequalities in their favour.
The historical trajectory for African states is such that ‘those’ who access political power have undue advantage over ‘others’ in accessing public goods and services and use that access for influence and control. Consequently, there is no motivation for pursuing mechanisms for peaceful transfer of political power and peaceful resolution of conflicts. Instead the cycle of political violence and civil wars continues.
The preoccupation by missions and churches, since colonial times, to use social services as a strategy for expanding their reach and attracting more adherents to swell their numbers made them vulnerable to alignment with and/or co-optation by those seeking to capture and/or retain political power using the same. Again, the story of Uganda is archetypal of other African countries. During colonial period, the colonial administration rented the delivery of services to the Christian missionary groups, who were eager to run them in order to attract more adherents, thereby reinforcing and legitimating the horizontal and vertical inequalities. Hansen’s statement, in his work Mission, Church and State in a Colonial Setting: Uganda 1890-1925,is an apt summary of the foundations laid in the colonial period:
Religious divisions became the most important mechanism for allocating resources within the political system and therefore membership of a religious group served as the obvious means of securing one’s share. The valued goods were channeled through this structure, and in the eyes of individuals, membership of a religious group served as the obvious means of securing one’s fair share. To put it differently, religious factionalism as also political factionalism.[26]
Christianity therefore became part of the architecture of structural inequalities and violence. Mazrui helpfully pointed to the sixteenth century operating principle, of cuius regio eius religio, ‘whosoever reigns shall determine the religion of his territory’, in understanding this confluence of Christianity and politics[27]. The failure for Christianity in Africa to provide critical challenge to the political and economic illusions of postcolonial Africa, is locating itself within the client-patron power relationships, “the dominant imagination of postcolonial politics and economics of Africa, and quite often reproduces its patterns, its modernity, and its illusory promises of success and prosperity”[28].
Christianity is part and parcel of the story of violent conflicts in Africa because it is imbedded in the narratives of political domination, by which the power relationship between the rulers and the ruled is a relationship of exchange. Those in power provide security in exchange for political support of those being (mis)ruled. Denominationalism, that is part of the character of Christianity in Africa, became one of the instruments in drawing the lines in the patron-client structure. This is what explains the vicious intra- and inter-religious rivalries among the Christian Churches, making it difficult for them to unite to push for a national socio-political agenda for the good of all. As Katongole has asserted, the reason “why war, tribalism, poverty, corruption and violence have been endemic to Africa’s social history”[29] in spite of the continuing growth and thriving of Christianity, is its “socialization into violence as a means of social interaction”[30]. Hence, the efforts by churches in deeper evangelization, relief and development, mediation, advocacy and reconciliation have failed to contribute to the promise of democracy, peace, justice and human rights, because in the substrata of the neo-colonial state is embedded a form of Christianity that has surrendered the social vision of the Gospel.
The problematic with the prayer by President Museveni is that it not only dignifies the false imaginations that underpin the functioning of the Uganda as a nation-state, but is itself a performance of the captivity and co-optation of Christian identity for personal political power – the very reason for the narrative of complicity of violence between Churches and political actors. The comparison with Kibaki’s Kenya is instructive. Gifford observes that the Catholic Church of which he was a member has been so co-opted that:
The Catholic bishops treat enhanced tribalism, political violence and corruption as aberrations rather than structural issues, and they perpetuate the image of a President and prominent ministers as advocates of good governance, justice and national unity rather than denouncing their complicity in violence, corruption and obstruction of justice. Issuing pastoral letters becomes a ritual that is performed, a game that is played.[31]
National prayers, a phenomenon reckoned to be associated with the National Prayer Breakfast movement originating in the United States of America[32], became part of that game. In 2006, at the height of political tensions, ethnic clashes, insecurity and floods – and then a plane crash in which prominent community leaders died, President Kibaki declared a “National Prayer Day” on 21 April[33]. About that day and prayer, Gifford wrote:
The Nairobi ceremony illustrated a mixture of themes. Prayers were said for victims of the plane crash, for the floods, decrying the corruption exemplified in the scams like the Goldenberg, the lack of trust among leaders. However, the overall motif was that the people of Kenya had to repent… The message was that the nation must turn to God… In a lengthy prayer of repentance read by senior pastor of the Nairobi Baptist Church, four areas of confession were named: recourse to “witchdoctors”, broken covenants…, neglect of the poor…, and – more remarkably – showing disrespect for President Moi when he left office. [34]
The National Prayer Day did not prevent the post-election ethnic clashes and violence in 2007 and 2008, unknown in Kenya’s post-independence history. The arena of violence and bloodletting even shifted from the streets and villages to Church centres and buildings. This is the reality in many African countries today: prayers and violent conflicts. The praying Presidents and praying pastors and churches are not transforming the conflicts in Africa, because they are all socialized in narratives of violence to which they have become captives.
Just as the praying pastors and presidents in Africa speak volumes about African Christianity and the public square, Jesus’ praying teaches both the meaning and place of praying in shaping how his followers engage in the world; and, gives the heart of the Gospel message – God’s will, purpose and plan for redeeming the nations and all creation. There are several places in the Gospel records where we could turn, particularly the incidences where the accounts report Jesus praying as well as providing the content of his prayers. It is the incident recorded by both Matthew 6 and Luke 11, which are the basis of what we know as ‘The Lord’s Prayer’, that I have chosen. This choice is informed by two concerns: firstly, the ritualization of the words of Jesus in contemporary Christianity and consequent emptying of the power of the message in them, a situation akin to the ritualization of prayer in many Churches today. The incident therefore speaks to the prevailing powerless Gospel narratives in context of conflicts and violence in Africa. Secondly, it provides a counter narrative, pointing to a way of living that transforms both community and the context of those who live by that narrative. It is one of those incidences in the Gospel accounts that capture the heart and essence of the gospel story.
Jesus’ Teaching on Prayer: From Captivity to Redemptive Social Action
The main passage is Matthew 6.
5 “And when you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and on the street corners to be seen by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full. 6 But when you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you. 7 And when you pray, do not keep on babbling like pagans, for they think they will be heard because of their many words. 8 Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him.
9 “This, then, is how you should pray:
“‘Our Father in heaven,
hallowed be your name,
10 your kingdom come,
your will be done,
on earth as it is in heaven.
11 Give us today our daily bread.
12 And forgive us our debts,
as we also have forgiven our debtors.
13 And lead us not into temptation,[a]
but deliver us from the evil one.[b]’
14 For if you forgive other people when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. 15 But if you do not forgive others their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins.
Matthew’s record locates ‘The Lord’s Prayer’ in the broader discourse that we have come to know as ‘The Sermon on the Mount’ (Matthew 5-7), which as John Stott observed “describes what human life and human community look like when they come under the gracious rule of God”. It portrays “the repentance (metanoia, the complete change of mind) and the righteousness which belong to the kingdom”[35]. Therefore to appreciate the force of Jesus’ teaching on prayer, it should be understood in context of his life as he “went throughout Galilee, teaching in their synagogues, preaching the good news of the kingdom” (Matt 4:23). Thus, ‘The Lord’s Prayer’ is part of Jesus’ treatise on what the kingdom community looks like and how it behaves. The thrust of Jesus’ teaching is that the community that lives the story of the good news of the kingdom is radically different from the rest of the world. The citizens of the kingdom of God were to be entirely different from others – the crowds, pagans and religious people; the scribes and Pharisees; the Jews and Gentiles.
They were to as be distinct from the world as salt is from food and light from darkness. The one who declared himself to be the light of the world charged them: “You are the salt of the earth … You are the light of the world” (Matt 5:13–16). The impact of their witness to the world would not be achieved in withdrawal, but like salt in food and light expelling darkness, it was through their presence, a savouring presence, and by the proclamation of the gospel of the kingdom that they would prevent moral decay and expel the darkness of evil in the world.[36]
The fact that dominant Christianity is part of the story of violent conflicts in Africa (and indeed elsewhere in the world) means it is part of the story of moral decay and darkness. This is contrary to the narrative and vision that Jesus portrayed of kingdom community – an indictment on Christianity as we have described it and its “socialization into violence as a means of social interaction”[37] in the public sphere. Jesus’ verdict on our churches can’t be any clearer: they are not gospel communities. Jesus’ discourse on prayer, points to the gravity of Jesus’ indictment on our churches today.
Luke’s record of the same occasion, submits that Jesus was prompted by the request by one of his disciples: “Lord, teach us to pray, just as John taught his disciples” (Luke 11:1) It is noteworthy, that the request was not to teach how to pray but rather to pray. It is easy to miss this nuance in the disciple’s inquiry. It seems that after the disciple had watched and heard Jesus pray on several other occasions, there was a distinctive about Jesus’ praying that put to question his praying and the Jewish prayer tradition. The point here is that there is a way in which Jesus’ prayer life and the content of his prayers said something about what praying is all about and the person of Jesus. The request to Jesus to teach them to pray implies a deep sense of dissatisfaction with the disciples’ praying and that of their tradition.
In Jewish religion, praying was not primarily about words, ritual or the times. Jewish prayer defined Jewishness; a people uniquely and distinctively related to God, who “created the heavens and the earth” (Gen 1:1) Praying was testimony to that uniqueness; a distinctive way of expressing devotion to God. The rhythm of praying, of place and time of meeting with God, shaped all of life. To pray was to be and live in a particular way; it reflected an identity; an understanding of relationship with God; and, the implications for life. Prayer embodied a story; a way of living. Hence the disciple’s referencing to “as John taught his disciples”. John’s disciples’ prayer life, prayers and praying embodied a distinctly different life narrative to that of Jesus. In watching and hearing Jesus pray, the disciples had come to the conclusion as followers of Jesus, they were radically different John’s disciples. The disciples’ question was about Jesus’ identity – the narrative that shaped and informed Jesus’ praying, and therefore the identity and narrative that would shape the life of his followers.
In Matthew’s account, Jesus makes the point about the radical difference between his followers and the rest, by picking on two religious groups, both of which were known for their praying: Jewish people whose practice of their faith he characterised as hypocritical; and, Gentiles (pagans) – people who worshipped “gods made by human hands who are no gods at all” (Acts 19:26). The point is not about praying or not praying! It is the life narrative that prayer performs; it was not the act of praying that distinguished any of the communities, but rather how, where, when and what they prayed. Hypocrites and pagans pray but their praying manifested narratives about themselves, God and godliness that were a distortion of God’s story. The pretentious life and disregard of the honour of God that is the character of the hypocrites’ narrative, is evident in the way they pray for show, “standing in the synagogues and on the street corners to be seen by others” (Mat. 6:6); and the emptiness of pagan religion is manifest in the way pagans “keep on babbling …, for they think they will be heard because of their many words.” (Mat. 6:7) Hypocritical religion and therefore hypocritical living were manifested in showy praying; and idolatrous religion, was evident in long and wordy praying. Jesus told his disciples that it would be incongruous for his disciples to reduce prayer to showbiz or oratory, because their relationship with God, engendered by their relationship with him, created for them a different narrative. Hypocritical living is self-absorbed, grounded in a false narrative of self; pagan living results from a distorted narrative of divine being. It should not be so with those who are followers of Jesus. To pray like Jesus is to live out the new narrative.
Firstly, to pray is to live in an intimate relationship with God. God is not to be thought of in terms of as one to be terrified of, whose name cannot be uttered as Jewish tradition portrayed, but rather as Abba, Father or Daddy. It was indeed common practice in Jewish praying to refer to God as ‘the Heavenly Father’; but to refer to him as ‘Abba’ was radical. The Creator of the cosmos, who dwells in eternity (heaven), desires to be in intimate relationship with his people. Secondly, to pray is seek to re-align our deepest longings, aspirations and ambitions for ourselves and the world to God’s purposes and plans; that those who know God as Father, seek above all things his name, that is his authority, to be held in highest esteem by all humanity; his kingdom – his reign, to take over all the affairs of the world, so that his will is performed “on earth as it is in heaven”. Those who genuinely seek his glory and will, chose to live in obedience to his purpose and plans; bearing witness to the presence of God’s kingdom, because they “seek first his kingdom and his righteousness” (Matthew 6:33). Thirdly, to pray that his kingdom and will ‘come on earth’ means that the believer seeks to see God’s purposes and plans for all creation – the arena of human habitation, ‘the earth’, fulfilled. There is here the imperative to seek not only the flourishing of humanity but the entirety of creation.
Prayer in Jewish tradition always included a section on specific asks for meeting human needs. The three needs that Jesus commends as primary are: daily bread – bodily sustenance; forgiveness – reconciled relationships; and protection from falling into the traps of the evil one. And since living is essentially about eating (and drinking), relationships and the struggle with forces of evil on earth, Jesus told his disciples what the Father’s will is for his children: to pursue justice, a world in which there is bread enough for all each day – thus “Give us today our daily bread”; to seek for and pursue reconciled and just relationships – thus “Forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors”; and to overcome temptations and enduring the times when our faith is tested – thus to “deliver us from the evil one”. In the emphasis on the ‘us’, rather than ‘me’ or just people who are like ‘me’, Jesus is challenging his disciples to live not just for themselves but ‘with’ and ‘for’ the ‘other’. True disciples of Jesus should not be content until all the hungry are fed; they seek the healing and reconciliation of all estranged, because they are peacemakers (Matthew 5:9); and, they work to uproot and tear down structures of evil – injustice, inequality and oppression, which dehumanise and contradict the will of God.
The ‘Lord’s Prayer’ is the Gospel narrative for Jesus’ people. It sets the contours of authentic discipleship: the glory of God, as the supreme passion; the reign and rule of God, as the uttermost ambition; and the flourishing of humanity and creation, as the highest aspiration. It is a cry and a commitment to the new social order that is wrought by the rule of God: of “justice, peace and joy in the Holy Spirit” (Romans 14:17)
The Matthew account of the occasion of ‘the Lord’s Prayer concludes with an exposition of one of the three critical aspects of life: forgiveness and reconciliation. In the words of Jesus, saying (Mat. 6: 14-15):
14 For if you forgive other people when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. 15 But if you do not forgive others their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins.
Jesus makes the point that it is hypocritical to claim forgiveness of God and yet live in un-forgiveness, with bitterness and rivalry with others. Jesus is clear: that to live unforgivingly is to deny our own sinfulness. In the call to forgive others, is also the call to repent. Jesus makes the point that the one who does not forgive, is unable to receive forgiveness, because he has failed to acknowledge his need of forgiveness. It suggests to us that forgiving others is an act that begins with first acknowledging our own failures before God and faults against the other.
Luke’s account, on the other hand, concludes with Jesus’ exposition on the matter of food, with a parable of a friend who goes to his friend, to ask for bread so he may feed his visitor-friend. Luke 11: 5-10:
5 Then Jesus said to them, “Suppose you have a friend, and you go to him at midnight and say, ‘Friend, lend me three loaves of bread; 6 a friend of mine on a journey has come to me, and I have no food to offer him.’ 7 And suppose the one inside answers, ‘Don’t bother me. The door is already locked, and my children and I are in bed. I can’t get up and give you anything.’ 8 I tell you, even though he will not get up and give you the bread because of friendship, yet because of your shameless audacity[e] he will surely get up and give you as much as you need.
9 “So I say to you: Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. 10 For everyone who asks receives; the one who seeks finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened.
The friend asks for bread from his friend at a difficult hour, not for himself, but so he has enough to provide for the other, who has not had something to eat. He persists, because he cares that his visitor-friend eats. There is an assurance that God, unlike the sinful friend who responds out of selfish consideration, will respond because he is the holy and loving Father. Mat. 6: 11-13:
11 “Which of you fathers, if your son asks for[f] a fish, will give him a snake instead? 12 Or if he asks for an egg, will give him a scorpion? 13 If you then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!”
The Father’s will is enough sustenance for all humanity, each day. But his will is for more: an intimate relationship with all humanity, which he will by the gift of the Holy Spirit (looking towards Pentecost), because human’s sustenance is not “by bread alone” (food and drink), “but on every word that comes from the mouth of God” (Matthew 4:4).
The Lord’s Prayer, as a portrait of the story of the life of disciples of Jesus, can be reframed into what Jesus declared to be the summary teaching of the law and the prophets: To “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind”; and to “Love your neighbor as yourself.” (Mat. 22: 37, 39) Knowing God as a loving Father, draws us to respond in loving him, with all we are and have, seeking and desiring nothing else except his kingdom and his will on earth. And because loving our neighbour is his will, we pursue justice and reconciliation for and with our neighbour. Living prayer is to live love – love for God and neighbour.
The indictment on the dominant narratives of Christianity in Africa, and by extension those from its Western forbearers, is akin to Jesus’ indictment of hypocritical and pagan praying, which are grounded in distorted narratives. Just as Jesus set out a pattern for life for his disciples in the Lord’s Prayer, the Prayer provides for us both a hermeneutic of authentic Christian community and life in a world characterised by greed, hate, injustice, rivalry, bitterness, un-forgiveness and violence – what one of us at the Micah Global Conference in Manila called “Jesusness.”
In the context of endemic violence in our world, Jesusness, as portrayed in the ‘Lord’s Prayer’ has two imperatives: firstly, the summons to the churches in Africa (and indeed elsewhere in our world of violence) is to hear afresh the Jesus call to “Repent and believe the good news” (Mark 1:15), because in Jesus the kingdom of God has been revealed. This is a call to heed the indictment against falsifying the gospel story – claiming to live by gospel narrative and yet deny it by being part and parcel of violent conflicts, the performance of distorted narratives about God, community and the world. Repentance entails taking responsibility and coming to terms with the churches’ complicity in creating and structuring injustice and inequality in our societies, which has led to the violent conflicts that have bedeviled so many the countries in Africa and elsewhere in the world. Nothing short of truth-telling will get us there. Churches must come together, and create spaces and processes of truth telling, lamenting distortions of the gospel that have imprisoned them in structures of inequality and violence.
Genuine lament will lead to the second imperative: pursuing compassion, justice, peace and reconciliation, which is what the rule of God brings. ‘The Lord’s Prayer’ beckons those that live by the Christ story, to redemptive social action. Matthew is clear, that the Gospel story – the story of the redemption of all humanity and creation, was and is about the triumph of justice (Matthew 12: 20). The churches’ story, as bearers of Jesus redeeming story (Jesusness), is therefore be about justice. To pray, “Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven”; is a pledge and commitment to the flourishing of human dignity and the integrity of creation – bearers of the shalom of God. To pray, “Give us today our daily bread. And forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors” is a commitment to deconstruct the current social and political order of inequality and violence; and the finding of a path towards equitable access to ‘the table’. Therefore the evidence of genuine (not hypocritical) repentance is in the churches’ engagement in finding corrective measures, to redress the injustices and inequalities occasioned by our social history. This will demand deep and difficult conversation about policies and legislation that makes possible restitution and equal opportunities for all people, irrespective of their ethnic, racial, cultural, gender or religious identity. It will also entail working with state and none-state actors in creating institutions and processes that will provide adequate checks and balances, for political accountability. Churches must engage in the critical work of building new political-economies that work for the common good.
[1]Daily Monitor (2018). Long list of unsolved murders haunts police. https://www.monitor.co.ug/News/National/Long-list-of-unsolved-murders-haunts-police/688334-4755734-wf7617/index.html
[2]The Observer (2018). 19 assassinations: Gen Kayihura pins 10 on ADF. https://observer.ug/news/headlines/58711-19-assassinations-gen-kayihura-pins-10-on-adf
[4]Daily Monitor. (2016). Bodies in Kasese Attack Rot Away. Retrieved from http://www.monitor.co.ug/News/National/Bodies—Kasese–attack–rot-away/688334-3470088-n2ce47/index.html
[5]Uganda Ministry of Internal Affairs. (2016). Government Statement on the Security Situation in the Rwenzori Region. Retrieved from https://ugandamediacentreblog.wordpress.com/2016/11/29/government-statement-on-the-security-situation-in-the-rwenzori-region-kaseseclashes/
[6]Gaaki, K. (2017). Museveni orders increased vigilance after Kaweesi killing. The Eastafrican. Retrieved from http://www.theeastafrican.co.ke/news/kaweesi-shot-dead-no-suspects/2558-3856646-tid0unz/index.html
[7]For a detailed account of some of these, Daily Monitor, Retrieved from http://www.monitor.co.ug/News/National/Six-women-raped-killed-similar-brutal-fashion/688334-3985858-4lfd0kz/index.html
[8]The Parliament of Uganda, Retrieved from http://www.parliament.go.ug/index.php/about-parliament/parliamentary-news/1404-parliament-suspended-over-women-murders
[9]An entire chapter is dedicated to this in a recently released work: Frederick Jjuko & Sam Tindifa, A People’s Dialogue: Political Settlements in Uganda &The Quest for a National Conference(Kampala: Fountain Publishers), pp. 116-162.
[10]Kwame Bediako, Jesus in Africa: The Christian Gospel in African History and Experience(Carlisle: Paternoster Press, 2000), p. xii)
[11]Emmanuel Katongole, (2011). The Sacrifice of Africa: A Political Theology for Africa(Grand Rapids MI.: William B Eedermans Publishing Company), p 2.
[12]Robert D Lamb (2015), “Fragile States cannot be fixed with State Building”, Washington: Centre for Strategic and International Studies (CSIS), http://csis.org/publication/fragile-states-cannot-be-fixed-state-building, accessed 20 October 2018.
[13]According to the 2014 census, Roman Catholics number 39.3; Protestants (Church of Uganda) 32.0; Moslems 13.7; and Pentecostals 11.1% of the Ugandan population, while only 1% define themselves as non-religious (Uganda Bureau of Statistics 2016). Of those Ugandan who self-identified as Christian, 85% claimed to attend a religious service at least once a week (Pew Research Centre 2010). In this article, we follow the practice common in Uganda, whereby those belonging to the Church of Uganda, a member of the Anglican Communion, are referred to as Protestants.
[14]My work, David Zac Niringiye, The Church in the World: A Historical-Ecclesiological Study of the Church of Uganda with Particular Reference to Post-Independence Uganda, 1962-1992, (Carlisle, Cumbria UK: Langham Monographs, 2016) socialization of Christianity in colonial and post-colonial Uganda took place.
[15]Samwiri R Karugire, A Political History of Uganda, (Nairobi: Heinemann Educational Books, 1980), p. 13.
[16]Dan M Mudoola, Religion, Ethnicity and Politics in Uganda, (Kampala: Fountain Publishers, 1993), p.11.
[17]Lamb (2015).
[18]George B Ayittey, Africa in Chaos, (New York: Palgrave, 1998), p 27.
[19]George B N Ayittey (1998), pp 50-51.
[20]George B N Ayittey (1998), p 49.
[21]Paul Gifford, African Christianity: Its public role in Uganda and other African Countries, p 7.
[22]George B N Ayittey (1998), pp 73-74
[23]Wrong argues that when leaders distribute resources along ethnic lines, “they encourage the next leaders to act correspondingly, and so on. All successive leaders become the main actors of an “our turn to eat” game, which is a bad equilibrium unlikely to be broken.”Wrong, M. (2009). It is our turn to Eat: The Story of a Kenyan Whistle-blower, New York: HarperCollins Publishers, p.4.
[24]Paddy Benson, “Faith Engaging Politics: The Preaching of the Kingdom of God” in Ben Knigton (Ed), Religion and Politics in Kenya,p 108.
[25]C Crammer, ‘Does Inequality cause conflict?’‖in Journalof International Development, 15, 2003, pp. 397-412; Frances Stewart (ed), Horizontal Inequalities and Conflict: Understanding Group Violence in Multiethnic Societies, Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2010;Frances Stewart, ‘Crisis Prevention: Tackling Horizontal Inequalities’, Oxford Development Studies, 28, 3:245-262 (2000); Frances Stewart, ‘Horizontal Inequalities: A neglected dimension of development’, QEH Working Paper Series, Oxford: Centre for Research on Inequality, Human Security and Ethnicity (CRISE) (2002).
[26]Holger B Hansen, Mission, Church and State in a Colonial Setting: Uganda 1890-1925, (London: Heinemann, 1984), p.4.
[27]This is Ali A. Mazrui’s argument in “Religious Strangers in Uganda: From Emin Pasha to Amin Dada”, in African Affairs,(302), 1977, pp 21-38.
[28]Katongole, E (2011), p 49.
[29]Katongole, E (2011), p. 1.
[30]Katongole, E (2011), p. 48.
[31]Paul Gifford (2009), Christianity, Politics and Public Life in Kenya(New York: Columbia University Press), p 61.
[32]For more on the National Prayer Breakfast movement, see https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/National_Prayer_Breakfastaccessed September 2015.
[33]Paul Gifford, “Christianity co-opted”, in Ben Knighton (ed.) (2009), Religion and Politics in Kenya: Essays in Honor of a Meddlesome Priest(New York: Palgrave Mackmillan), p 207.
[34]Paul Gifford, “Christianity co-opted”, in Knighton (2009), pp 207-208.
[35]John R. W. Stott, Christian Counter-Culture: The Message of the Sermon on the Mount(Bible Speaks Today; Leicester: Inter-Varsity Press, 1978), 18
[36]David Zac Niringiye, The Church: God’s Pilgrim People(Carlisle, Cumbria UK: The Langham Global Library, 2014), p 109.
[37]Katongole, E (2011). The Sacrifice of Africa: A Political Theology for Africa,Grand Rapids MI.: William B Eedermans Publishing Company. P 48.
Share your reflections and feedback below
Some questions for thought…
- In what ways do you see the Church captive to violent narratives in your context?
- What truths or redeeming narratives does the Church in your context need to hear and be shaped by in order to grow in greater faithfulness to the gospel?
- How can the Lord’s Prayer help to lead the Church to repentance and the pursuit of justice, compassion, peace and reconciliation in your community?
The views and opinions expressed in these papers are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect an official position of INFEMIT. We seek to foster reflection through conversation, and ask you to be respectful and constructive in your comments.
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