Families live in fear and displacement, with villages disappearing overnight – yet people remain strong in faith. Photo: Fr Kurt Zion Pala
When people ask me, “What is mission like in Myanmar?” I often pause. Mission here is difficult and beautiful. It is broken and hopeful. It is cautiously walking on a path between the sounds of Buddhist chants and bells, and the echoes of rockets fired from Myitkyina into the surrounding villages.
Mission in a Land of Tears:
Myanmar has always been promoted as the Golden Land of Myanmar but today it is a war-torn country - a Golden Land of Tears. Many families live in fear, in displacement camps, or in villages that can disappear overnight. Young people used to carry dreams but now carry firearms and trauma. Parents worry not only about their children's future, but about tomorrow’s meal. Parents are left behind while the young leave the country to escape army conscription and poverty.
As a priest, I have anointed a young person who was shot at a protest and another dying youth victimised by drug addiction. I have listened to mothers who shared that they have moved from one camp to another, and for many, they have nowhere else to go. I have listened to young people feeling lost and disheartened. I have celebrated Mass with communities displaced by the war, who are tired, yet still singing the psalms of hope.
My first struggle in the mission was realising that I cannot fix Myanmar. I cannot stop the war. I cannot remove all the suffering or ease all their worries and pain. But I can be present and listen. In Laudato Si Pope Francis reminded us to listen to the cry of the Poor and also the Cry of the Earth. But in Myanmar, the Poor and the Earth are wailing.
Slowly, I learned:
Mission is not first about doing things for people; it is about being with people. Learning from the Kachin people and the many other communities of Myanmar has evangelised me more than I have evangelised them. They taught me how to pray while waiting for peace, to trust in God every moment of their lives and share the last cup of rice with a neighbour. They also taught me to enjoy the small things in life, even when electricity and the internet disappear for weeks. I have learned to give thanks more and complain less.
I remember preparing for a homily and later sharing it, doubting myself when I spoke that God is good and He cares for us all. I remember asking myself, "Where is God in all of this suffering?" Then I find myself celebrating the Eucharist in an IDP (Internally Displaced Persons) camp or among young persons or recovering alcoholics and drug-addicted individuals who sang louder and sweeter than any choir I have heard. In that moment, I understood: Emmanuel - God is among us, the Church is strongest where it is poorest. They have lost everything, their homes, villages and many sons and daughters to the war, but they have not lost their faith.
Struggles of a Missionary:
Nothing prepares you for the mission. In my first few months in Myanmar, I was very excited and had so many ideas for the ministries I intended to do. But I realised it is not my mission but God's mission. I struggled with helplessness when young people asked me for jobs I could not provide or asked questions I had no answers to. I struggled with anxiety when I carefully plan, and things do not happen the way I want them to. I struggled with my own fears every time I encountered a soldier at checkpoints. I struggled every time a young person gave up.
There were days I asked God, “What am I doing here in Myanmar?” Mission in Myanmar has stripped me of the illusion that a missionary is a hero. I discovered I am simply a companion, often weak, often confused, just like the people I minister to, yet I am called to remain.
The Joys that Keep Me Alive:
I have heard confessions under makeshift halls and chapels and felt that Christ was more real there than anywhere else. Photo: Fr Kurt Zion Pala
Yet, the joys are greater than the struggles. I see joy when a young person becomes confident and can create his or her own path in life. I feel joy when the youth organise themselves to help the poor, or when young persons from different faiths celebrate feasts together, and when Buddhists, Baptists, Catholics, and Muslims protect one another in times of danger.
But my greatest joy is witnessing faith. I have given the first communion to young deaf adults or children with special needs who waited years before they could receive communion. Their joy and smiles after receiving Jesus in the bread and wine reminded me why I became a priest. I have heard confessions under makeshift halls and chapels, celebrated Christmas with the displaced – just like Jesus, Joseph and Mary – and felt that Christ was more real there than anywhere else. God is no longer just Emmanuel, but mission has given me a new name for God: God-with-the-suffering-people.
What Mission Means Today:
Mission in Myanmar today means:
- Accompanying a crucified people - the displaced and the youth
- Forming the young to be confident and resilient leaders who believe peace is still possible, and
- Advocating for care for creation when forests and the land are destroyed by mining and conflict,
It is not about building big projects; the mission is about building small communities of hope. It is Good Friday and Easter Sunday, living in the same house. It is walking with a people who refuse to give up on God, even when the world seems to have given up on them. At Mass, we remember the Roman Centurion asks Jesus to heal his servant saying, "Lord, I am not worthy to receive you under my roof!" We, too, recognise Jesus' mercy and power to heal and enter our lives this Lenten Season.
Lord, do not let me be a visitor to the pain of your people. Make me a neighbour. Photo: Fr Kurt Zion Pala
There is a Columban saying: We cross boundaries!
In Myanmar, the boundaries are plenty - ethnic, religious, political, and even boundaries of despair. To cross them requires patience, listening, and sometimes silence more than words. When celebrating the Eucharist, I often pray: Lord, do not let me be a visitor to the pain of your people. Make me a neighbour. Teach me to break the bread of hope even when my own hands are empty. In Myanmar, the Eucharist comes alive in the lives of the people. I keep returning to Myanmar, and I remain here because the Gospel is most alive among those who are suffering and wounded. The people of Myanmar have taught me that mission is not where we bring Christ—it is where Christ is already waiting for us.
Thank you for walking with us in prayer and solidarity. Please continue to pray for us and do not forget us!
Columban Fr Kurt Zion Pala lives and works in Myanmar.
Related links
- Read more from the current Columban eBulletin
