A Better Word

by Hannah Teague, Creative Director; with John & Gwen Haspels

The Omo Valley of Southwest Ethiopia—a place described by National Geographic as one of Africa's last frontiers—is home to the Suri, a semi-nomadic people group. This remote society has remained relatively unchanged for centuries—free from European colonialism and unaffected by modernity until recent years.

In our work around the world, we're privileged to witness the exciting growth of the Church as it becomes established in new contexts. In the story of the Suri, however, we're reminded that lasting transformation sometimes comes slowly and at great cost along the way.

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Until the 1970s, the Suri had no access to the Gospel or interaction with followers of Jesus. By the early 90s, there were still no known Suri Christians. In 1992, American missionaries John and Gwen Haspels moved to the region under an agreement with the Ethiopian government to support rehabilitation work following a devastating famine.

John and Gwen undertook development efforts in infrastructure and healthcare, seeking opportunities to build bridges between Suri culture and the truths of the Gospel. Their ministry since then has been one of both heartbreak and joy—even the miraculous survival of an ambush in 2014—and they remain expectant of what God will do as He builds His Kingdom among the Suri.

The Suri are comprised of three main clans with a total population of nearly 55,000. Two clans primarily herd cattle, while the third farm and keep bees. Of roughly a dozen tribes living in the Omo Valley, the Suri interact regularly with half. Some of these tribes have migrated from South Sudan, Ethiopia, Kenya and Uganda due to drought, famine or war. There’s frequent fighting due to cattle raiding or encroaching upon each others’ territories.

While violence against their neighbors is common, blood feuds perpetuate cycles of revenge between Suri families as well. When a person is killed (whether on purpose or by accident), a blood debt must be paid. Male relatives bear the responsibility of vengeance, and female members of the family often act as instigators, urging their husbands or sons to restore the family’s honor.

There are two ways to satisfy a blood debt. In a revenge killing, a close male relative of the victim targets the perpetrator or another male in the family, often the firstborn son. If the son is still young, the family taking vengeance will wait— sometimes years—until he is “ripe,” or considered a man (around age 15). The other alternative is a reconciliation ceremony. A female child of the murderer is given as a wife to the brother of the victim, and a lamb is sacrificed on the murderer’s shoulders. This satisfies the debt, although the process can be subjective and the victim’s family might demand more.

Revenge killings occur more frequently, largely from convenience. “The Suri are opportunistic,” says Gwen. “If someone had a chance to take revenge, he wouldn’t wait for reconciliation.” Sometimes young men will disappear from their villages because they know they’ll be targeted for what their father or uncle did in the past. Gwen continues, “The Suri live in the moment, but they have long memories.”

The Suri believe in a good creator god who made the world but then withdrew from human affairs. They also practice animism, the belief that supernatural forces animate the world around them.

Viewing life through this lens, the Suri participate in rituals to appease the spirits. They attribute natural events and illnesses as threats from the spirit world and avoid places and people they fear are cursed. Witch doctors, shamans and dreamers use divination and magic to predict and manipulate the future.

Unlike most Westerners, the Haspels have firsthand knowledge of the influence of curses and spiritual forces on communities. “Because the Suri understand the spiritual world to be so strong, they need to see Jesus as powerful over their physical and spiritual realities,” John relates.

So what does it look like for the Good News of Jesus to come to a people group for the first time? We recognize aspects of God-instilled beauty in every culture. But the reality of living in a world broken by sin is that every culture needs to be made new by Him. For the Suri, traditions of fear and revenge are incompatible with the freedom and grace Jesus makes possible. The Gospel offers a completely new paradigm—transforming death to life and darkness to light.

Since its birth in the mid 1990s, the Suri Church has faced opposition from culturally normalized violence and the control of witch doctors. Even for Christians, social pressures and tendencies toward destructive practices remain strong, and some have returned to former ways of life. Leaders of the church have been targeted and killed in blood feuds. And the majority of Suri followers of Jesus are young, many still in their teens, with limited influence over their society.

“It’s a huge struggle for a people group to become rooted and grounded in the truth of the Gospel when so much of their way of life opposes it,” says John. “They have to encounter God in real and meaningful ways, in healings and deliverances. They’ve seen the power of witch doctors and dreamers, and they’ll return to those sources if they don’t believe God is greater.”

“We didn’t come to them bringing many words of wisdom,” he continues, paraphrasing 1 Corinthians 2:4–5, “We spoke about the cross and pointed them to the power of God.”

Although they no longer live in Southwest Ethiopia, the Haspels remain committed to the Suri. As retributive violence continues to take its toll on communities, they’re actively involved in reconciliation. The example from their own life has been significant. After being ambushed and shot several years ago, the Suri expected John to seek revenge by killing their attacker or taking one of his female relatives. Instead, the Haspels publicly forgave him.

Since then, the Haspels have helped the Suri make peace with each other and their neighbors and break historic cycles of violence. John points to Genesis 4:1–12 and Deuteronomy 21:1–9 to describe the consequences of sin on people and the land, and then to the hope of Hebrews 12:24. While sin has caused destruction of life and demands atonement, the blood of Jesus, shed on our behalf, offers forgiveness and redemption.

Symbolic ceremonies are helping the Suri and their neighbors gain a deeper understanding of this reality. It’s remarkable that at the time of this writing, peace is holding between the Suri and Toposa, their most feared enemy. As a number of these ceremonies have taken place, rain followed—an event that holds supernatural meaning for the Suri. They received it as a sign of God’s mercy and healing for their land (2 Chronicles 7:14).

“Your Kingdom come, Your will be done in Suriland is what we’ve asked God since the beginning,” shares Gwen. “That was our prayer before we ever stepped foot there. We’re compelled to persevere in this work because we care so deeply for these people and want them to know Jesus.”

We too long for the Suri to encounter God as the giver of abundant life, freeing them from the cycles that bind them and their children to vengeance. We’re asking God to create new hearts in men and women who will reject violence and embrace the way of peace.

We don’t yet know what future chapters hold in the story of the Suri as God’s Kingdom becomes established in all its fullness. Yet even as the weary earth cries out from generations of bloodshed and brokenness, Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross speaks a better word—a message of reconciliation that declares a final end to hostility (Ephesians 2:13–16).

And as Hosea 6:3 promises, surely He will come to us like rain and wash us in His grace anew.