For many of us, Ebola feels distant—something we might hear about briefly in the news before turning back to our daily concerns. Yet for our brothers and sisters in the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC), it is anything but that. It is a present and painful reality. Ebola was first identified in 1976 in what is now the DRC, and the country has since experienced more outbreaks than any other in the world. The current outbreak, declared in May 2026, has already affected large numbers of people across eastern Congo and into neighbouring Uganda. At the time of writing, there have been almost 1 000 reported cases and over 200 confirmed deaths.
Behind every number is a story.
Behind every number is a story: a mother who cannot be buried in the traditional or normal way; a child who has lost both parents; a church community forced to grieve from a distance. These are not abstract statistics—they are the lived experience of the body of Christ.
A Disease Spread Through Love
One of the most distressing features of Ebola is how it spreads. Unlike many illnesses that pass through the air, Ebola is transmitted through close physical contact—through bodily fluids and through caregiving. This means that the very acts that express love can become pathways of infection, as one:
- cares for the sick or sits beside the dying
- washes a loved one’s body and prepares them for burial, with dignity and care.
This crisis touches not only bodies, but also hearts and communities.
In ordinary times, these are harmless acts. They are signs of devotion, expressions of honour, and ways of mourning for our loved ones. Yet in the context of Ebola, they carry immense risk. Studies have shown that a significant portion of infections—as much as 20%—have been linked to funeral practices. This creates a profound and painful tension. To continue these practices as usual may spread the disease. To abandon them feels like a loss of dignity, culture, and meaning.
In this tension, we begin to see how deeply this crisis touches not only bodies, but also hearts and communities.
Misunderstanding and the Search for Meaning
In times of suffering, people seek explanation. In many communities affected by Ebola, the disease isn’t only understood medically but spiritually. Some interpret it as a curse, a form of witchcraft, or divine judgment. Others distrust medical systems, especially in regions where conflict and instability have shaped public life. At times, families have chosen to care for loved ones at home, or resisted medical intervention, because of fear, misunderstanding, or mistrust. These responses are not simply ignorance—they are often rooted in deeply held beliefs and experiences.
The measures recommended by health workers are designed to protect life.
As believers, we must approach such realities with humility and compassion. However, we must also affirm that truth matters. Ebola is a virus. It spreads in specific ways. And the measures recommended by health workers—however uncomfortable—are designed to protect life. Faith doesn’t stand in opposition to truth. It helps people receive it with trust and understanding.
More Compassion, More Wisdom
Scripture calls the church to respond in a way that reflects both the heart and the wisdom of God. On the one hand, Jesus tells his followers, “I was sick and you visited me” (Matthew 25:36). The call to compassion is clear. We cannot turn away from suffering. We are called to be present—to care, to pray, to stand alongside those who are hurting (see, for example, Micah 6:8).
Christian love is not careless. It does not ignore risk or dismiss wisdom.
On the other hand, God implores prudence: “The prudent see danger and take refuge” (Proverbs 22:3). Christian love is not careless. It does not ignore risk or dismiss wisdom. It seeks the good of others, even when that requires difficult changes. In a situation like the current Ebola outbreak, love might need to take a different shape. It may mean maintaining distance instead of embrace; or altering deeply meaningful practices for the sake of life. These are not betrayals of love—they express it.
At the heart of this is the biblical conviction that every human being bears the image of God (Genesis 1:27). This means that dignity must be upheld, even when circumstances require adaptation. Efforts to ensure safe and dignified burials are not a rejection of tradition, but a careful attempt to honour both the living and the dead.
The Church’s Unique Calling
In such a complex crisis, Christians have a vital role to play. In local communities, churches are often among the most trusted institutions. They are places where people gather to seek guidance. This gives the church an opportunity—and a responsibility—to speak clearly and compassionately. Local churches can:
- offer accurate information and gently correct harmful misunderstandings
- support grieving families whose normal practices are disrupted
- walk alongside healthcare workers, helping build trust within communities
- help adapt cultural and religious practices in ways that preserve dignity while protecting life.
The gospel calls us into deeper solidarity.
At the same time, the Church global isn’t removed from this moment. Scripture reminds us that “if one part suffers, every part suffers with it” ( 1Corinthians 12:26). The pain of the Congo belongs to all of us. This calls us to respond with:
- intentional prayer
- generous giving
- informed awareness
- a willingness to listen to and learn from those on the front lines.
Too often, global crises reveal how easily we can remain detached. But the gospel calls us into deeper solidarity.
A Test of Our Witness
Ebola does more than threaten health—it reveals the nature of our discipleship. Will we notice suffering that is far from us? Will we hold together compassion and truth? Or will we allow them to drift apart? Will we respond with humility? Or will we assume that we have nothing to learn?
History shows that in times of plague the Church’s witness isn’t primarily in grand statements, but in quiet faithfulness. It is seen in communities that care, that serve, that speak truth, and that embody the love of Christ in difficult circumstances. That kind of witness is needed now.
God calls us to love mercy and wisdom; to act with compassion, standing with sufferers, as well as care.
In a world where even love can become risky, the call of Christ remains steady. God calls on his people to love mercy as well as wisdom; to act with compassion, standing with sufferers, as well as care. In a world where even love can become risky, the call of Christ remains. And as we do so, we trust that even in the midst of fear and loss, God is at work. He is sustaining his people. He is strengthening his church. God is calling us once again to faithful presence in a broken world.
