Why I serve in Congo

‘What mission are you going to do in Congo?” My friend reacted when I informed him about my appointment as a Missionary for Africa priest. “The Church is well established there!” Though we habitually pull each other’s legs, this time he had thrown me a curve ball.

Reflecting on this question has helped me to clarify for myself my presence in the Democratic Republic of Congo as missionary and also to understand better what an established Church really is.

Where does the truth of my friend’s response lie? In fact, there is abundant evidence: the number of Catholics in Congo is so high that a small parish here would be regarded as a big parish in most other places.

Parish organisation, especially the level of participation of the laity, is quite advanced. There are lay parish assistants and bakambi, the lay persons who are full time administrators of parishes. There is a relatively high level of Christian education in parishes, unlike in many other places where that hardly goes beyond preparations for communion and confirmation.

Then you have the Zairean liturgy of the Mass. The number of priests and religious both within and outside the country is unbeatable. With all these you just can’t help feeling that you are in a Church that is an “elder sister” to many in Africa. Indeed, up to this point you hardly appreciate the place of a missionary. But then something beckons you—wait a minute!

That Congo is rich in natural resources is common knowledge. However, this is made invisible in the actual life of the people. Here we are not simply talking of the poor and the old, but also about people in steady jobs. If a civil servant, proud of his master’s degree, brings home at the end of the month little more than R500, then you have an idea of the situation of the majority in humbler jobs with lower wages.

As a missionary, you begin to pose questions that often you want to ignore, or perhaps don’t even want to ask.

The capital, Kinshasa, alone is proud of its several thousands of “churches” (sects), which could be taken as sign of how copiously religious people are. Most likely, among those in the administration of the country several are Christians; but how is it that Christian principles are hardly evident?

Then one realises that even this “mature church” needs a good push to be more consistent.

In fact, Cardinal Laurent Monsengwo of Kinshasa, proposed “Christian identity, Christian coherence” as the theme for the current pastoral year. It means that Christian identity must be seen in the words and actions of the daily life of Christians: in liturgy, but also in families, streets and work places.

This is where coherence comes in—the faith professed should tally with the way people live. This is a theme given by a pastor who knows the life of his flock. In a situation where people seem to be left to themselves, people—Christians and non-Christians—are driven to earn their living in any way open to them, even if that is irreconcilable with their faith.

Here one begins to appreciate that establishing the Church on level of living Christian values is on-going, necessary even in a place where missionary work may appear superfluous.

To answer my friend, I therefore want to remain in Congo not because I have heroic missionary activity to accomplish—the country has seen enough heroes—but because I see myself in this mature Church while struggling to be more consistent.

I want grow along with this Church. We are never established enough.