Why we are going to Washington to pray

This summer we arrived at our public policy internships in D.C. determined to go beyond filing papers and to make some difference in the world. Brimming with boundless enthusiasm for the research assistant work we were given at public policy think-tanks, we were quickly engaged in tackling the weighty intellectual confounds of religious freedom, the academic perils of human injustice, and the challenges of national and international legislation. But enthusiasm gave way to disbelief as we began researching the subject of modern day religious persecution, stumbling upon reality that we never expected to encounter in our worst nightmares.

What we learned this summer was so awful that we can't help but tell others. The most egregious violation of human rights today is not in Rwanda; it is not taking place in Bosnia, or even in Somalia. These horrible examples of injustice and persecution break our hearts, and justly so. But if you think of the men, women and children who lost their lives in those three places, then add them together, you're closer to understanding the magnitude of the genocide in Sudan that we hear nothing about.

For the past 20 years, the people of Sudan have been victims of slavery, rape, torture, starvation and genocide at the hands of Sudan's radically imperialist Islamic government. Two million Sudanese people — the equivalent of decimating Princeton's entire student population 444 times over — have been senselessly murdered for their dissension against the religious and political oppression that is sponsored by the Northern Sudanese government. Five million more people have been displaced from their homes and villages, relegated to government-controlled refugee camps where food, safety and protection are all contingent upon renouncing personal religious and political beliefs. Though their country is rich in natural resources, the Sudanese people are being subjected to one of the greatest famines in the world today. There is no education, the nearest hospital is a 15-day walk for most people, and the government drops bombs rather than bread on its starving people. Those persecuted include moderate Muslims, black-African tribes, and the Sudanese Christians — people who share a common hope and longing for a secular government and an end to a fear of persecution that won't relent.

Watching video footage of the brutally persecuted people in Sudan, and personally overcome by eyes that seemed to scream out from the fear of death, we quickly exhausted the existing material written about religious persecution and became frustrated with the media for not covering the plight of these freedom-deprived people we came to learn about.

We were shocked at our previous ignorance and abhorred the fact that we had not known the very real and unspeakable horror that millions face as a direct result of religious persecution, not only in Sudan, but elsewhere around the world. We realized that if we were to sit in an office for the rest of our lives and continue to watch the dying die, we would be compromising every notion of love and justice we hold to be true.

We came to understand the words of human rights activist, A.M. Rosenthal, a reformed Jew and New York Times columnist who recently won the Presidential Medal of Freedom for his writings on the injustices of worldwide Christian persecution. Mr. Rosenthal has challenged others with the question that has haunted and inspired his years of work on issues of human rights: Somewhere in the world, someone is crying out from the pain of persecution, death and injustice. Maybe they lie at your feet, perhaps around the corner so that you can only hear them, or maybe an ocean separates the two of you. At what point does it become a sin to ignore their cries? At what point does distance absolve us of the responsibility to intervene?

We realized that without action and an outpouring of compassion, our summers would be relegated to a new bit of knowledge and a nice experience. But we will not let that happen. Though the summer has passed and our internships are over, the reality of the suffering in Sudan only continues to grow. Though it would be easy for us to return to the number one university in the world and absorb ourselves once again in the privilege and blessing that it is to be at Princeton, the images of the suffering, dying Sudanese people do not go away. This is especially moving for us as Christians, knowing that although we know nothing of persecution here in America, we have brothers and sisters in faith and in humanity being martyred everyday for their faith and beliefs in Sudan.

One of the most important things we were reminded of this summer was that as Christians, our faith demands that we love in action and not just in words. This coming weekend, after six long weeks of planning and preparation, we, along with about 50 other Christian Princeton students, will have the chance to do just that. From Sept. 18-24 a prayer vigil called Stand Firm, sponsored by the Institute for Religion and Democracy, is taking place in front of the U.S. State Department and Lincoln Memorial in Washington DC. Vigil attendees will include the lost boys of Sudan, Congressmen, Reformed Jews, Churches from Midland Texas, seminary students and many other concerned individuals. On Saturday Sept. 21, a group from Princeton will travel to Washington D.C. to pray and take action with Christian students from all over the Northeast who share the conviction that our faith, without action, is dead. We will be leading the only all-night prayer watch in the week-long vigil.

The Vigil is dedicated to showing support for the dying, and we hope to convey to our government that American Christians care and care deeply about global persecution. The Vigil comes at a critical moment in Sudan's struggle for peace and justice. A new and fragile peace process offers hope for peace and freedom in Sudan, but those familiar with the crisis know that vigilance is required to assure a just settlement and religious freedom. It is the hope of many that this well-publicized vigil will draw attention to the genocide in Sudan and encourage the U.S. to see that peace agreements are made and honored by the Sudanese government.

Our greatest fear is one we share with many, that in some way it will seem that we have reduced the situation in Sudan to one with a simple solution. The complexities of the civil war there provide fodder for endless intellectual debates. But we, along with many others, are tired of debating. As Christians, we believe in the power of prayer, and the responsibility God has given every person to uphold justice and oppose tyranny in the world. And one thing is certain, despite the desperate ploys so far, the injustice in Sudan has known no reprieve.

As our nation recovered from a day of mourning and remembrance last Thursday, Sept. 12, villagers in the Southern Sudanese town of Lui (despite so-called "peace talks" proclaimed by the northern government) found themselves hiding in the bush, under rocks, and in dug shelters, as bombs fell upon this town previously ravaged by over seven bombings in the year 2000. Lui contains the only hospital for the estimated 400,000 people in the region, as well as a church, a school and grass huts. There is not a single military target or any military personnel. We only know because for two months this summer, Lui was the home of our classmate Cole Barfield '03 when he worked at the hospital founded there by Franklin Graham five years ago.

This particular bombing is no different from the attacks on Sudanese villages that occur throughout the year. But it compels us to continue; it forces us to fight back tears and grit our teeth. And it gives us names to pray for, as we consider the hospital staff, the patients and the villagers there. And so we go to Washington to pray; praying with hope, praying with love, praying for peace and justice in Sudan. And it is our hope that despite your religious beliefs, you might allow yourself to be aware of the fact that although you live in a place where you are allowed to choose what to believe, that was not a reality for the two million people who have already died in Sudan.

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For more information on the Stand Firm Prayer Vigil, contact Betsy Massopust and Lisa Hess, or visit www.ird-renew.org/cans. Lisa Hess is a Pyschology major from Lititz, PA. She can be reached at lhess@princeton.edu. Betsy Massopust is a Wilson School major from Edina, MN. She can be reached at emassopu@princeton.edu.