Survey says…Scripture says…

Survey Says… Scripture Says…

Does what the survey says differ from what Scripture says? Most definitely. The top answer from the survey was food for thought indeed—and here’s why.

On Family Feud, hosted by Steve Harvey, contestants were asked: “Name five places where you will find the most sinners.”

I used this as my opening line when I gave a talk on the life of Saint Josephine Bakhita at St. Joseph’s Catholic High School in Greenville, South Carolina where I had been invited as a guest speaker last month. To engage the audience, I contrasted two perspectives as a way of analyzing and internalizing the message: Survey says… and Scripture says…

One student responded, “Las Vegas,” which, incidentally, was one of the answers on the show. However, the top survey answer was unexpected: the church.

Absurd? Surprising? Perhaps. But it was also deeply thought-provoking. That response led me to reflect more seriously on faith and the journey of salvation.

Continuing my talk, I turned to that morning’s Gospel reading—the Way of the Cross according to the Gospel of Luke. I asked the students: “Who were the key people present at the crucifixion of Christ?”

One student answered, “Mary Magdalene,” which was correct. Indeed, several women were present: Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of Jesus, Mary the wife of Clopas, the mother of James and Joseph, and the mother of the sons of Zebedee. Also present was the beloved disciple and the Roman soldiers.

But to drive my point home, I highlighted what Scripture says most powerfully: the presence of the two criminals crucified alongside Jesus. Even in the final moments of His life, Jesus identified with sinners—you and me—paying the ultimate price for our salvation.

When I first received the invitation to speak, I was excited and eager to dive deeper into my topic: African Catholicism, with a focus on St. Bakhita.

My faith is rooted in Catholicism, shaped across Kenya, Uganda, and Djibouti, particularly through the jumuiya—Small Christian Communities that form the foundation of church life in Africa. I initially thought it would be straightforward to connect St. Bakhita’s story to modern-day worship in Africa, especially given her influence.

But her story unfolded differently than I expected.

Though I had read widely about this subject before, when researching for my book, the subject was heavy, complex, deeply unsettling, and mind-boggling. Despite that, I found resolution through the individual story of one saint, Saint Josephine Bakhita.

The subject was slavery. Treacherous. Dehumanizing. Humiliating, Horrific. Horrendous. Barbaric. You are welcome to add on the adjectives that I might have missed out, no list of adjectives feels sufficient.

When Helping Hurts, is a chapter in my book, Awakened Faith, where I share my experiences with what I now understand stemmed from the genesis of slavery. I compare slavery to colonization. It was the hardest chapter to research and write.

The only way I was able to process and write through it was by attending daily Mass during that period. I read, re-read, wrote, and rewrote. At times, I considered omitting the chapter altogether. Even my editor suggested removing it. But something within me re-directed me to include it in the book.

I am grateful I did.

That chapter now brings me even greater clarity than when I first wrote it. I realized that silence does not lead to justice. Sometimes justice begins with truth—the kind that is difficult to hear, to talk about yet freeing to the soul.

And yet, my deepest sense of peace came through the life of one person: St. Josephine Bakhita.

From slave to saint. From Darfur, Sudan to Venice, Italy.

Through her perspective, I found resolution.

She spoke of her life in slavery with remarkable humility and honesty, contrasting it with the grace and mercy she encountered in Jesus Christ. She referred to God as her “Paron”—a Venetian term meaning “master.” Having been owned by five earthly masters—some less cruel than others—she chose this word deliberately.

“I give everything to the Paron, and He takes care of me. He is obliged to,” she would say.

Her words reveal a profound trust shaped not by ignorance of suffering, but by transformation through grace.

As I reflected on her life, I found myself drawn to a powerful comparison: the whip and the cross.

Both are physical instruments historically used as symbols of oppression—tools of fear, submission, and humiliation. Yet, through Christ, the cross was transformed.

To endure the horrors she experienced and still recognize that Christ, too, suffered humiliation and agony on the cross led St. Bakhita to something extraordinary: total forgiveness.

When asked about her oppressors, she once said she would go through it all again—because it was through that journey that she came to know Christ.

Echoing the words of Jesus—“Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do”—she believed her captors acted without full understanding. Jesus pulled goodness and life out of the evil

The Passion of Christ and the collection of stories about Jesus through the four Gospels gives us an account of HOW Jesus died, death on the cross. The most painful, and gruesome way to die.

And yet, that very cross—once a symbol of shame and oppression—has become the central symbol of hope and salvation for all humanity.

Through God’s grace, the One who knew no sin bore the weight of our sins, liberating us.

The survey may say one thing.

But Scripture reveals something far deeper: Not where sinners are—but where grace meets them.