A Real Tragedy

It's been over a month, and I am still processing the tragic suicide of a Catholic priest from Nigeria. Apparently, he was in the states on a visa which in due time expired. Because the federal government has suspended the processing of immigration cases for Nigeria and some other countries, his diocese was left with little choice but to bring him home and reassign him. The atrocities being committed against Christians in Nigeria are unspeakable, leaving him to believe no good could come of his return to his homeland. He took his own life on July 2, 2026. My sympathy goes out to his family and all who knew him.

This is a tragedy on so many levels, and I'm certainly not looking to weigh in on the immigration issue or the Catholic church, but I would hope he had a strong network of people around him, interceding for him and supporting him in many ways. If that is not the case, I pray this is a lesson on how to better minister to our ministers. It's not optional. In Galatians 6:2, God through Paul commands us to bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ. The law of Christ! It is a requirement we support our brothers and sisters in Christ and, I'm going to add, particularly our ministers; those folks who are always teaching Sunday school, planning music, cleaning our churches, taking care of loose ends, praying for us, and pastoring. Those people who are always looking out for the welfare of others, who looks out for their welfare? Imagine serving as a hospital chaplain and parish priest while you yourself are far from home, missing loved ones, fearing for their safety, hearing reports of yet another village burned or friend abducted. How well do we bear the burdens of those who bear our burdens? 

As this man navigated the emotions and legal roadblocks, he prepared a statement which, according to MSN, was posted on his church's website:

Sincerely, it is not my wish to return home right now, but circumstances beyond my control have warranted that my time in the United States come to an end. My heart is broken, yet my joy remains.

He was fixed on encouraging others even in the midst of his trial. Though we may be broken and ignorant of that which lies ahead, the joy of the Lord is our strength (Nehemiah 8:10). Whatever transpired between his writing that statement and ending his own life, I am not to judge, but I do know his actions do not negate the truth of Scripture. The joy of the Lord is stronger than any version of despair, any kind of fear, and any sense of darkness that threatens to consume us. The joy of the Lord will never be crushed under the weight of grief or snuffed out by the presence of shadows. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil for Thou art with me (Psalm 23:4). Those are not just words with which we assure ourselves our loved one has passed through the veil of death and on to eternal life. Those are words for the comfort of the widow, the hope for the critically ill, and the strengthening of the minister ordained to return to a place where he faces, at best, an uncertain fate.

None of this should have happened. Not the vile, merciless slaughter occurring in Nigeria and other parts of the world. Not the suicide of a priest who lived to walk others through the darkness. Not the empty place that exists now at the bedside of the sick and dying or the tears that fall in memory of this beloved servant. Such is the fallen world in which we live. But as members of the body of Christ, we are not alone; His joy sustains us and directs us no matter how hopeless our circumstances may appear. This is a tragedy. Greater tragedy is to abandon hope in the changes we can make, the prayers we can pray, and the assurance we have in our Redeemer.