About 300 congregants, friends and supporters packed the church in 105-degree temperatures to celebrate a spiritual homecoming for the "Lost Boys" and "Lost Girls." They were children when forced to flee Sudan's civil war, which has claimed 2 million lives, including many of their parents and family members.

"I feel now we are at home; this is our special place," said Gabriel Chol Kuany, 25, a youth choir and liturgical dance leader and evangelist. "There are many places to go and pray, but you can feel in yourself, this is my home."

Reec, who celebrated the Eucharist in Dinka, a Sudanese dialect, before an exuberant standing-room-only crowd of worshippers, had led the congregation for the past three years. Previously they held services in a chapel at All Saints Episcopal Church in Phoenix.

Sudanese congregations sent greetings from Tennessee, San Diego and Colorado, and the Episcopal Church of the Ascension in Dallas sent representatives to support the mission, believed to be the first Sudanese church in the country.

"This is absolutely historic," declared the Rev. Carmen Guerrero, Canon for Peace and Justice for the Diocese of Arizona. "There are seven Sudanese congregations throughout the country, who all worship in someone else's chapel. This is their own home, this is a new chapter."

From 'Lost' to New Life and Faith
For the "Lost Boys" and "Lost Girls," the path to Sunday's celebration was arduous. Kuany was six-years-old when he, like thousands of other children, fled to Ethiopia because of the war which erupted between the Muslims of the North and Christians and Animists of Southern Sudan.

He became a Christian during that first journey, he recalled. Separated from his parents and family, he walked back to Sudan when Ethiopia exploded into civil war a few years later. He remembers facing a difficult choice: either crossing a river or being shot. Unable to swim, he jumped anyway. "When I got to the other side I thanked God for saving me from the crocodiles and the enemies shooting into the river."

Shortly afterwards he was forced again to flee the Sudanese war, eventually arriving in 1992 at the Kakuma Refugee Camp in Kenya. Conditions there were difficult, food was scarce. In 2001, a United Nations program relocated about 3,500 Sudanese to the United States, including 400 to Phoenix, where additional culture shock awaited.

"I had to look for work on my own. I couldn't speak or write English; I couldn't understand what my American friends say," Kuany recalled. A factory job was three hours away and unreachable via public transportation. He awakened at 2 a.m. and shared an $80 cab ride with several others to arrive at his 6 a.m. start time.

"At the time, I thought it might be better to stay in Sudan," he said. "This is my second time feeling lost. But I was not lost from God. I wondered where we can find a home."

Answers came through local and diocesan support. All Saints Episcopal Church offered weekly tutoring and mentoring classes; members "adopted" the Sudanese to aid cultural transition.

"My family and I adopted 17 boys starting in 2001," said Carol Black, canon for administration and the bishop's assistant. "Now they've graduated, some have married; they're having children. I've learned so much from them. I've watched them face discrimination, and it's opened my eyes to the white entitlement I take for granted. I just don't do that any more. We're family now."

Nanette Towsley, All Saints Communications Director, recalls efforts to help the Sudanese obtain social security cards, driver licenses and other identification. "It's complicated for Americans to understand our bureaucratic system," she said. "But, seeing it through their eyes was really scary. But mostly we've just been there for them, as friends and family."

Becoming Family and Empowering Partnerships
For Peter Aguto Kuech, and many others, June 3 represented the fulfillment of a dream, and the birth of a vision.

An official evangelist in the Sudanese community, he coordinated the first prayer service in Dinka at All Saints, in February 2003. Eventually, it expanded to bimonthly and then weekly meetings after the arrival of Reec.

"It is important to worship God in our language," said Kuech, 28. "When we ran away from our country, we didn't know about God. It is so important for us, even though we come from far away to here, to keep our tradition."

By 2005, the diocese had established Empowerment Through Education Program for Sudanese Students (ETEPS), an officially designated Jubilee Center, which partnered with a local college to assist with financial aid and other necessities. Guerrero said.

"I've got 54 people on scholarships," she said. "By empowering them, their labor opportunities will drastically improve. They will no longer work two or three jobs at minimum wage, on night shifts in order to support their families. Already some of the students are working in offices, hospitals, and legal offices because they have finished an associate degree, or a Bachelor's degree, and are continuing work on a Master's degree."

Also in the works is a continuing education and ministry development project for some 27 Sudanese Episcopal clergy in the country.

Bishop Kirk Smith said the growth of the Sudanese congregation to about 150; the availability of a former church, San Pablo's Mission; and the diocesan Alleluia fund which offered financial support have also helped the mission "fit into my vision for bringing new church plants and missionary activities in the diocese. It seemed the natural kind of thing to do," he said.

San Pablo Mission, established in the late 1930s, became a center to train music students after its original congregation outgrew it in the 1990s. The center recently relocated, said Gloria Abril of Rosie's House.

A Different Kind of Survival
During Sunday's homily, Guerrero challenged the fledgling congregation to plan for the future and to make St. Paul's a place of abundance.

"You are no longer children. You are no longer 'lost,' you are men and women of God," she said. "The faith I see in you is one of the greatest gifts I have ever received. The spirit within you surpasses human understanding. You are called to work together. Now is the time to learn what it means to walk in faith … in this country. It's a different kind of survival."

Gabriel Kuany, who along with eight others graduated from Phoenix College last month, has future dreams and visions.

"We give thanks to the diocese; to start new life isn't simple," he said. "Now, we have a home where we can pray to God in the Dinka dialect, where we can sit together and study the Bible, we can go deep," he said, touching a hand to his chest.

"We will have programs for the community, teaching young children how life is and about becoming future leaders, teaching about becoming future families," he added. "I hope we do more than this one in the future, whatever it takes to help those who need help."