When sacred spaces are threatened, our witness must rise

By Fr Robert Christo

Vicar for Communications

Recent reports have highlighted criminal intrusions into places of worship, Christian and non-Christian alike, where ministers were threatened and robbed. Though buildings and the sacred species were spared in the recent incident at St Benedict’s RC, La Romaine, the shock across the country was real.

For generations, stepping onto church grounds with harmful intent was taboo. Today, even these once-protected spaces are no longer exempt from a rising tide of violence and desperation.

The social roots of anger, desperation, and temptation

Beneath the headlines lies a deeper national wound. Many live in a cycle that begins with anger over lost opportunities and unhealed trauma, then desperation simply to survive.

Poverty, broken households, social fragmentation, and the pressure to maintain appearances all intensify the struggle. While being prison chaplain, one bandit even opened up to me in tears, “I wrong…it have no bad children…bad experience and upbringing…it hard out dey…but allyuh church people sometimes seem too hypocrite, we need opportunity, too…I iz a barrel chile,” revealing not only desperation but deep resentment.

Desperation opens the door to temptation, which Scripture understands not merely as moral weakness but as a human battle worsened when conscience is undernourished. Without inner strength or the presence of grace, mentorship, and community (village), temptation wins.

Formation lost and the erosion of real community

Catholic teaching insists that the dignity of the human person is the foundation of a just society. But dignity is formed somewhere. It begins in family life, the domestic Church where values are shaped and continues in community rhythms and shared rituals that give identity.

When these weaken or are absent, people become unanchored. Youth without formation or sense of belonging often slide into anger and choices that show little regard for what is sacred. The erosion of respect is rarely hatred for the Church. It is the consequence of not being rooted anywhere.

Small signs of grace in troubled times

Yet even as crime rises, sparks of grace flicker. In one account, a perpetrator insisted that no harm come to a minister and “do whatever but doh touch de church…”.

Some young men instinctively hide their cigarettes when I pass, not out of fear but a lingering reverence for my office. In my parish, a homeless man quietly placed his red bills into an empty collection basket while I preached on the widow’s mite. I was teary eyed for he had become a living parable for me. Onlookers, too, were awestruck. These moments show that the moral imagination of our people is wounded but not dead. Embers remain.

Scripture’s call to bear witness in darkness

In this Advent season the Gospel readings highlight tribulation and Jesus’ words remain steady. In Luke 21 He says, “This will be your opportunity to bear witness.” Troubling times do not weaken the mission of the Church. They sharpen it. Our response is not panic but trust, not fear but witness and wake up. God remains sovereign and nothing escapes His gaze.

This Gaudete Sunday is one of joy, when we meet John the Baptist again. Isaiah speaks of a desert blooming and a highway for our God. Jesus tells the disciples of John, “Go and tell him what you see and hear.” Signs of healing and hope always emerge in desert places.

Our nation feels like a desert in some seasons, yet Advent insists that joy is still possible. Have you found joy even in small places? Do you see signs of life breaking through the cracks? John the Baptist sends us back to look again. Advent is not escape. It is clarity. It is the courage to prepare a way for the Lord in the very places that feel broken.

Rebuilding respect through simple encounters

If the root of the crisis is the breakdown of formation, the remedy begins with reconnection. Greet neighbours. Listen to youth. Restore village bonds. Pray at home and work. Make people feel seen and valued.

A parishioner once told me, “Father, you asked me how was the Word today, but you never even made eye contact.” Respect grows where belonging grows. Formation takes root through honest connection and compassion.

Christians cannot control every storm, but we can control our response and keep our own sin before us. Like the Anglican hymn says, “No storm can shake my inmost calm while to that Rock I’m clinging. Since love is Lord of Heaven and Earth, how can I keep from singing.” Even under pressure, like sugarcane, “the more dey squeeze we, the sweeter we  become.”

To name the moment we face, we might ponder on  the acronym C.R.I.M.E.:

C – Conscience under-formed

R – Rage from unresolved hurt

I – Isolation from community

M – Misguided temptation

E – Erosion of reverence

Only when we address these together will healing begin.

As Jesus says in Mark 7:15, “Nothing from outside can make a person unclean; it is what comes from within.” The transformation of our nation begins in the heart.