Missionaries see the good, find great joy in midst of challenges
October 15, 2025 at 2:07 p.m.
As Mission director for our Diocese, I am blessed with the unique privilege of witnessing firsthand the courageous lives and unwavering dedication of those who serve the Church in some of the most challenging and distant places. Last January, Father Jean Felicien, who serves as the priest-secretary to Bishop David M. O’Connell, C.M., and I visited South Africa, where we encountered two missionary priests whose lives continue to resonate deeply with both of us. Their witness is not marked by eloquent homilies or grand churches, but rather by their quiet endurance, sacrificial love, and their unshakable commitment to the Gospel – even in the face of real danger.
These encounters were not just moving; they were transformative. They served as a powerful reminder of what mission truly means: to go where the Gospel must be lived before it is preached, and to proclaim hope in places where hope seems most absent.
Father Henri, a Nigerian missionary priest, serves in Pretoria, a city that on the surface seems to be a place of relative security. His rectory is located just a stone’s throw from Steve Biko Hospital, a renowned academic medical center. The area boasts high fences, barbed wire and secure gates – the typical markers of safety, or at least the illusion of safety.
Father Henri took us on a tour of his parish church, a century-old sanctuary with creaking wooden floors that speak of its long history. The small community, around 50 people, gathers there each Sunday in prayer and devotion. It is a place where God’s presence is palpable in the simplicity of worship.
However, the following day, the illusion of safety shattered. His rectory was broken into. Locks were destroyed, personal belongings were stolen and his sense of peace and privacy was violated. This was not the first time such an intrusion had occurred, and sadly, it will likely not be the last.
What struck me most, however, was not the violence of the break-in, but the quiet strength of Father Henri’s response. He did not speak of fear or anger. Instead, he spoke of mission, of his determination to remain with the people entrusted to him, to love them even in a place where security is never guaranteed. In Father Henri, Father Jean and I witnessed the Gospel in action, living out the words of Christ in the most profound way.
Two hours northwest of Pretoria, we visited Father Martin, an Irish missionary who has served in the Diocese of Lichtenburg for more than 24 years. Just a week before our visit, Father Martin had been attacked by two men at his rectory – in broad daylight. The attackers sought only his cellphone, leaving him with physical wounds and emotional scars far deeper than any material loss.
Father Alindogan poses for a photo with Father Martin, an Irish missionary priest. Courtesy photo
Father Martin showed us the long sutures on his brow, and we could see the pain in his movements from broken ribs. Yet, he remained joyful. He had waited nearly an entire day to receive medical attention at the local health center, but when he spoke of the ordeal, it was with Irish humor and an unwavering spirit. “I might sell my dog,” he joked with a grin, “he was no help at all during the attack.”
This was the third time Father Martin had been physically assaulted, yet he showed no sign of surrender. He remains steadfast in his mission, undeterred by the dangers that others would shy away from. “Since I consider you a modern-day saint and martyr,” I asked, “can I take a selfie with you?” With his typical humor, he replied, “Sure, but I’m not dead yet!”
In both Father Henri and Father Martin, I encountered not just personal resilience, but the living Gospel itself. The words of Jesus in Luke 4 – “to bring good news to the poor, to proclaim liberty to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind” – were not just recited but embodied by these priests.
They are not merely surviving in difficult circumstances; they are thriving spiritually, giving life, giving love and proclaiming the Kingdom of God in a world that often turns its face away from suffering. These men embody a love that remains, even when wounds are inflicted. They live out a faith that stands firm, even when the doors of their rectories are forcibly opened. They continue to offer mercy, even when violence attempts to silence it.
And this is the heart of mission – to love without counting the cost, to endure in the face of adversity, and to serve with joy, even in the most challenging of circumstances.
As your Mission director, I want to remind you that these stories are not distant or disconnected from our own lives. They are invitations to deeper prayer, greater solidarity, sacrificial giving and to a renewed awareness of the cost of discipleship.
Mission is not optional; it is the identity of the Church. Missionaries are not far from us – they are us. And our prayers, our support, and our concern matter far more than we realize.
Every dollar we give to the missions, every prayer we offer for missionaries, every story we share from the margins – these are lifelines of hope that remind our missionary brothers and sisters that they are not alone.
As I reflect on the lives of these two remarkable priests, I invite you to join me in asking ourselves:
• Where is God calling me to be brave?
• Where am I being asked to live the Gospel more boldly?
• How am I supporting those who have left everything to bring the light of Christ to the world’s darkest places?
The witness of Father Henri and Father Martin challenges us to recommit ourselves to the missionary spirit that is at the heart of our Church. May we never grow numb to the needs of our suffering brothers and sisters. May we be stirred to a deeper resolve, to live with compassion, to give without fear, and to love as Christ loves, no matter the cost.
Let their stories inspire us to ask: How will I answer the call to mission in my own life?
Father Peter James Alindogan is director of the Diocesan Missions Office and pastor of St. Veronica Parish, Howell.
For more photos of Father’s mission trip visit trentonmonitor.smugmug.com
For Pope Leo’s message for World Mission Day 2025, visit pontificalmissions.org/wms
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As Mission director for our Diocese, I am blessed with the unique privilege of witnessing firsthand the courageous lives and unwavering dedication of those who serve the Church in some of the most challenging and distant places. Last January, Father Jean Felicien, who serves as the priest-secretary to Bishop David M. O’Connell, C.M., and I visited South Africa, where we encountered two missionary priests whose lives continue to resonate deeply with both of us. Their witness is not marked by eloquent homilies or grand churches, but rather by their quiet endurance, sacrificial love, and their unshakable commitment to the Gospel – even in the face of real danger.
These encounters were not just moving; they were transformative. They served as a powerful reminder of what mission truly means: to go where the Gospel must be lived before it is preached, and to proclaim hope in places where hope seems most absent.
Father Henri, a Nigerian missionary priest, serves in Pretoria, a city that on the surface seems to be a place of relative security. His rectory is located just a stone’s throw from Steve Biko Hospital, a renowned academic medical center. The area boasts high fences, barbed wire and secure gates – the typical markers of safety, or at least the illusion of safety.
Father Henri took us on a tour of his parish church, a century-old sanctuary with creaking wooden floors that speak of its long history. The small community, around 50 people, gathers there each Sunday in prayer and devotion. It is a place where God’s presence is palpable in the simplicity of worship.
However, the following day, the illusion of safety shattered. His rectory was broken into. Locks were destroyed, personal belongings were stolen and his sense of peace and privacy was violated. This was not the first time such an intrusion had occurred, and sadly, it will likely not be the last.
What struck me most, however, was not the violence of the break-in, but the quiet strength of Father Henri’s response. He did not speak of fear or anger. Instead, he spoke of mission, of his determination to remain with the people entrusted to him, to love them even in a place where security is never guaranteed. In Father Henri, Father Jean and I witnessed the Gospel in action, living out the words of Christ in the most profound way.
Two hours northwest of Pretoria, we visited Father Martin, an Irish missionary who has served in the Diocese of Lichtenburg for more than 24 years. Just a week before our visit, Father Martin had been attacked by two men at his rectory – in broad daylight. The attackers sought only his cellphone, leaving him with physical wounds and emotional scars far deeper than any material loss.
Father Alindogan poses for a photo with Father Martin, an Irish missionary priest. Courtesy photo
Father Martin showed us the long sutures on his brow, and we could see the pain in his movements from broken ribs. Yet, he remained joyful. He had waited nearly an entire day to receive medical attention at the local health center, but when he spoke of the ordeal, it was with Irish humor and an unwavering spirit. “I might sell my dog,” he joked with a grin, “he was no help at all during the attack.”
This was the third time Father Martin had been physically assaulted, yet he showed no sign of surrender. He remains steadfast in his mission, undeterred by the dangers that others would shy away from. “Since I consider you a modern-day saint and martyr,” I asked, “can I take a selfie with you?” With his typical humor, he replied, “Sure, but I’m not dead yet!”
In both Father Henri and Father Martin, I encountered not just personal resilience, but the living Gospel itself. The words of Jesus in Luke 4 – “to bring good news to the poor, to proclaim liberty to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind” – were not just recited but embodied by these priests.
They are not merely surviving in difficult circumstances; they are thriving spiritually, giving life, giving love and proclaiming the Kingdom of God in a world that often turns its face away from suffering. These men embody a love that remains, even when wounds are inflicted. They live out a faith that stands firm, even when the doors of their rectories are forcibly opened. They continue to offer mercy, even when violence attempts to silence it.
And this is the heart of mission – to love without counting the cost, to endure in the face of adversity, and to serve with joy, even in the most challenging of circumstances.
As your Mission director, I want to remind you that these stories are not distant or disconnected from our own lives. They are invitations to deeper prayer, greater solidarity, sacrificial giving and to a renewed awareness of the cost of discipleship.
Mission is not optional; it is the identity of the Church. Missionaries are not far from us – they are us. And our prayers, our support, and our concern matter far more than we realize.
Every dollar we give to the missions, every prayer we offer for missionaries, every story we share from the margins – these are lifelines of hope that remind our missionary brothers and sisters that they are not alone.
As I reflect on the lives of these two remarkable priests, I invite you to join me in asking ourselves:
• Where is God calling me to be brave?
• Where am I being asked to live the Gospel more boldly?
• How am I supporting those who have left everything to bring the light of Christ to the world’s darkest places?
The witness of Father Henri and Father Martin challenges us to recommit ourselves to the missionary spirit that is at the heart of our Church. May we never grow numb to the needs of our suffering brothers and sisters. May we be stirred to a deeper resolve, to live with compassion, to give without fear, and to love as Christ loves, no matter the cost.
Let their stories inspire us to ask: How will I answer the call to mission in my own life?
Father Peter James Alindogan is director of the Diocesan Missions Office and pastor of St. Veronica Parish, Howell.
For more photos of Father’s mission trip visit trentonmonitor.smugmug.com
For Pope Leo’s message for World Mission Day 2025, visit pontificalmissions.org/wms