As Catholics in Brooklyn and Queens celebrate Advent, our hearts turn toward brothers and sisters in Nigeria who face a season of darkness far deeper than the shortening days of winter.
Reports estimate that more than 7,000 people have been killed there this year in religiously motivated violence.
These are not distant statistics — they are lives, families, and parishes torn apart by terror.
The Church in Nigeria has long been a beacon of faith and resilience. Yet today, that light flickers under relentless assault.
Boko Haram and Islamic State-West Africa Province continue their campaign of murder and abduction, joined by armed groups exploiting ethnic and land disputes.
Priests have been kidnapped from their rectories; schoolgirls have vanished into the night. In Kaduna, gunmen recently stormed a parish, killing and abducting without mercy.
These atrocities cry out to heaven.
After an incident in July, in which dozens of attackers stormed the farming village of Yelwata in Benue state, killing at least 160 people — mostly Christians — Pope Leo XIV denounced the “terrible massacre” and prayed “that security, justice and peace will prevail in Nigeria.”
The U.S. government’s decision to reinstate Nigeria as a Country of Particular Concern under the International Religious Freedom Act is a welcome acknowledgment of the reality on the ground. It signals that the world is watching.
Earlier this year, then-USCCB President Archbishop Timothy Broglio wrote to the Catholic Bishops Conference of Nigeria: “I join you in calling for an end to the relentless attacks on innocent and defenseless communities,” while echoing Pope Leo’s prayer for peace in Benue’s rural communities.
Our Catholic response must be rooted in the Gospel. Pope Francis repeatedly called for solidarity with persecuted Christians, urging prayer and concrete aid. The Nigerian bishops echo this plea, condemning the “murderous groups” and demanding that authorities fulfill their duty to protect life.
Their words remind us that religious freedom is not a privilege—it is a fundamental right, woven into the dignity of every person.
What can we do here in New York?
First, we pray. Organize holy hours for Nigeria. Include petitions for kidnapped clergy and families at Mass.
Second, we learn. Understand the forces driving this violence — not only extremist ideology but also poverty, corruption, and land conflicts.
Third, we act. Support organizations like Aid to the Church in Need that provide shelter, counseling, and hope to victims. Advocate for policies that pressure perpetrators and strengthen the rule of law, rather than escalating warfare.
The temptation in times like these is despair. But Advent teaches us that light shines brightest in darkness.
The same Christ who entered a troubled world in Bethlehem walks with Nigeria today. He calls us to be instruments of peace — through prayer, truth, and charity.
Let us stand with Nigeria’s Christians, not as distant observers but as members of one body. Their suffering is our suffering; their hope must become our hope.
May our witness proclaim to a broken world that violence will never have the last word.
In Christ, mercy and justice will prevail.