Anglican Church’s Priorities Remain Crystal Clear: Not Uganda or Ugandans

In a stunning display of theological priorities, the Church of Uganda has once again reminded its flock what truly matters: not the Ugandans languishing in overcrowded prisons, not the mothers dying from preventable complications due to inadequate healthcare, and certainly not the deteriorating human rights situation in their own backyard. No, what really keeps Archbishop Stephen Kaziimba Mugalu up at night is who sits in a chair thousands of miles away in Canterbury.

Last Friday, the Church of England named Bishop Sarah Mullally as Archbishop of Canterbury designate , the first woman to hold the position. Predictably, the Church of Uganda responded with the kind of urgency usually reserved for actual crises, issuing a statement dripping with the performative anguish of a teenager whose parents just sent them a friend request on SnapChat.

“Praise God from whom all blessings flow!” the statement begins, before immediately pivoting to announce “sad news.” One might assume this sadness relates to Uganda’s collapsing healthcare system, rampant corruption, or the fact that nearly 40% of Ugandans live below the poverty line. But no, the source of this ecclesiastical grief is that a woman who supports gays now leads a church that the Church of Uganda dramatically “left” years ago.

Here’s why it’s even weird: The Church of Uganda publicly disassociated from the Anglican Communion and joined GAFCON (the Global Anglican Future Conference) specifically because they couldn’t bear the thought of gay people existing within several thousand miles of their theology. They’ve spent years threatening to leave, finally left, declared the Archbishop of Canterbury has no authority over them, and yet… they still can’t stop obsessing over who holds the position. We get it , you dumped them. Now why are you monitoring every small development? It’s giving disgruntled ex! “We no longer recognize the Archbishop of Canterbury as having global authority,” the statement declares, before dedicating several paragraphs to explaining why this person with no authority over them has made them very, very upset.

The Church of Uganda’s statement manages to trace the “tear in the fabric of the Anglican Communion” back to 2003, a twenty-two-year grudge over someone else’s bishop. That’s commitment. One might even call it an obsession.

Meanwhile, back in Uganda : you know, the place where the Church of Uganda actually operates, prisoners sleep 50 to a cell designed for 10. Maternal mortality rates remain stubbornly high. Not to mention the astronomical levels of teenage pregnancy that would make Epstein blush! Press freedom is under siege. But when was the last time you heard a  strongly worded statement from Archbishop Kaziimba with this level of passion about any of those issues?

If the Church of Uganda channeled even a fraction of the energy it spends monitoring the sexual ethics of Anglicans in England into addressing poverty, corruption, or healthcare in Uganda, we might actually see some miracles. 

The statement mourns that there “appears to be no repentance” from the Church of England. Repentance for what, exactly? Appointing a qualified bishop who happens to be a woman and believes LGBTQ+ people deserve dignity? But let’s talk about repentance. Has the Church of Uganda repented for its deafening silence on corruption that siphons resources from the poor? Has it repented for prioritizing its obsession with other people’s bedrooms over the Gospel’s call to justice, mercy, and humility?

The statement assures Ugandan Christians that through GAFCON, they remain part of “a worldwide communion of Anglicans who continue to proclaim the historic and Biblical faith.” Translation: We’ve found other people who also think the biggest threat to Christianity is women in leadership and gay people getting married. Also, we’ve finally found our spine. Slavery? Fine by us, Colonialism? What are you saying? Clergy Sex abuse? Let’s give them grace!! But a woman bishop!!! Nedda

“The Archbishop of Canterbury is reduced simply to the Primate of All England,” the statement sniffs, as if this is a devastating burn. But here’s a radical thought: Maybe the Primate of All England should focus on England, and the Archbishop of Uganda should focus on, oh I don’t know, Uganda? The statement concludes with talk of “Gospel-centred mission” and fields “ripe for harvest.” But what Gospel is being proclaimed here? Is it the one where Jesus spent his time obsessing over who Roman emperors appointed to distant posts? Or the one where he fed the hungry, healed the sick, and stood with the marginalized?

The sad irony is that the Church of Uganda has tremendous moral authority it could wield. It could speak truth to power about corruption. It could advocate for the poor and marginalized. It could demand better healthcare for mothers. It could stand up for press freedom and human rights. But it doesn’t. The only time Ugandans reliably hear from their church leaders is when there’s an opportunity to condemn LGBTQ+ people or women in leadership : whether in Uganda, England, or apparently anywhere on Earth. This isn’t theology. It’s not even tradition. It’s an obsession masquerading as orthodoxy, a deflection from the hard work of actually loving one’s neighbor, and a masterclass in straining out gnats while swallowing camels.

The Church of Uganda claims to be more Anglican than the Anglicans, more faithful than the faithful, more biblical than the church that brought them the Bible. But in reality, they’re just more obsessed, obsessed with controlling other people’s churches, other people’s bodies, and other people’s theology, while their own house crumbles around them. So congratulations to Bishop Sarah Mullally on her appointment. And to the Church of Uganda: Perhaps it’s time to spend less time monitoring England and more time ministering in Uganda. The fields may be ripe for harvest, but you’re too busy pruning someone else’s vineyard to notice.

“For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” —Matthew 6:21

Maybe it’s time to examine where the Church of Uganda’s heart really is.