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Good morning. On Thursday this week, as I scrolled through breaking news stories, I came across an announcement I might have missed if I weren’t online at the time. Abune Antonios, the third patriarch of the Eritrean Orthodox church had died at the age of 94. In normal circumstances, a news story like this might go unnoticed by those outside his church or country. But this leader is different. Patriarch Antonios spent the last 16 years of his life under house arrest. That was the cost of being a long-standing critic of the Eritrean government. When his government demanded that he excommunicate three thousand members of a Sunday School Movement they opposed, he refused outright. He was then deposed and arrested without trial. In the years since, protestors gather annually outside the Eritrean Embassy in London, praying in solidarity with those imprisoned because of their faith. For many Eritreans – Christian and Muslim – Abune Antonios is a symbol of resistance.

But his story was not only political struggle. Three years ago, his own bishops excommunicated him for heresy. They said at the time that his name should never be mentioned again, and that those who remember him would be punished. His treatment reflects the dark history of state-controlled religion, which can have the power to silence those who are politically inconvenient. He is one of many prisoners of conscience around the world whose names are scrubbed from the record and who often die in anonymity. When I heard he’d died, I realised how long it was since I’d last thought about him, or the stories of people like him. Years had gone by, and his situation remained unchanged. It was so easily forgotten.

Orthodox Christians pray the psalms daily. These ancient songs of praise and lament are a constant part of their worship – verses that have comforted the persecuted for centuries. Over his sixteen years in captivity, Abune Antonios would have prayed them countless times. I imagine he found strength in words like: ‘The Lord is a refuge for the oppressed’ and ‘God does not forget the cry of the afflicted’. The psalms are full of cries for help alongside declarations of hope in the face of suffering: honesty alongside resolute courage. Certainly, the patriarch found the courage to resist his oppressors even while the world moved on. He believed he was not forgotten by God, and nor were those he was imprisoned for protecting. Abune Antonios’ name will be remembered. But there are many like him whose names are lost. In recalling their names and stories, we can honour their struggle to worship in peace.