Southern Africa (Part I): May 2017

Cape Town, South Africa

Sunday, 4 June 2017

I seem to live by the old proverb, “the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence.” But as I told Dr Chester Polk, coordinator for international assignments, I am a student of ecumenical religion and global society, and these matters necessitate that I work anywhere but “here.” Princeton Theological Seminary requires every student to participate in a field education placement. While most choose from the plethora of opportunities that exist within commuting-distance of the school, many are drawn outwards—several go beyond New Jersey, some go beyond the East Coast, and a few go beyond the country.

Due to my belief in one holy, catholic, and apostolic Church, I reject the claim that we can properly function without a synchronised recognition of cultural multiplicity and human unity. It is not until we regard the image of God in our neighbour that we are able to witness Christ within ourselves, “for just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ. For in the one Spirit we were all baptized into one body, and we were all made to drink of one Spirit” (1 Cor 12:12-13).

As a student of religion and society, I recognise culture as the essence of inspiration made tangible through the telling of stories. When a story is told, communication becomes communion, and creation is further unfolded; stories are revelation. We sacrifice a part of our innermost self when we choose to tell a story. But we are called to surrender the comfort of our alienation, to share our space of solitude, and to confess our need for atonement. It does not require much to communicate the inexplicability and homogeneity of being, but it does require a great level of communion. Live amongst one another, as beloved with beloved, acting with purpose and persistence and charged with a message of love for those who seek to be valued and attentiveness for those who seek to be known—this is our joyous burden.

I have been in Cape Town, South Africa, for a week now. It took six months of preparations, a week of packing, and twenty-six hours of travel, fourteen of which involved sitting in front of a child who would not stop kicking and screaming. For ten weeks, I will work alongside Dave Smit and Nigel Chikanya at Mowbray Presbyterian Church, where my responsibilities include administration, chaplaincy, preaching, teaching, leading worship, youth group, and a bible study, and co-directing Holiday Club (the South African equivalent to Vacation Bible School).

The work began almost immediately. I landed at CPT on Friday, 19 May, at midday and was participating in worship practice the following afternoon. In the first week, I attended an elder’s meeting, led a youth group, held a handful of pastoral visits, and drafted a homily for 11 June (my very first sermon!). But from within that busyness, I have found a favourite coffee shop, gotten used to driving on the wrong (left) side of the road, eaten fish n chips at the waterfront, and gone to see a film with new friends. Tuesdays through Fridays are for working in the office, hosting meetings, and making pastoral visits; Saturdays are spent preparing for Sunday morning. Mondays have been left free for everything else: exploring the Western Cape, climbing Table Mountain, diving with sharks, and writing about these experiences. I have promised to avoid all church work on Mondays, because while Christ’s yoke is light, the same cannot be said of the Church’s.

Cape Town is an amalgam of the places that I have been around the world. A short drive from my residence—with Dave and Reneé, for whom I am boundlessly grateful—will bring me to a three-storied shopping centre with free wifi and pricey retail much like the stores you will find in American or European cities. Another five-minute drive down the road will bring me to the edge of one of the largest townships in the Africa, where you’re lucky to call a lean-to of excess tin “home.” While certain streets are freshly paved and kept clean, others crumble under a permanent layer of dust and rubbish. At times, it feels like I am in a developed, fully-functioning, economically-forward world; at others, it feels as though South Africa still struggles to move beyond its divisive history of apartheid. The disparity between the rich and the poor is immeasurable. But this is exactly why I believe Cape Town to be a place for everybody: it is a multi-cultural city manifest with stories rooted in a history from which we all may learn.

The extant and extent of a predominantly racial divide goes to show that serious problems persist. For Bantu-speaking peoples (i.e. Zulu, Xhosa, Sotho, Swazi, etc.; black South Africans), Nelson Mandela rode into Mahlamba Ndlopfu on a donkey to shouts of “blessed is he” and with hope that a saviour had come. But just as Jesus did not rid Jerusalem of the Roman Empire, Madiba did not rid Mzansi of intolerance and inequality. We must continue the fight against the oppressors of the world, no matter the colour of our skin, our socioeconomic background, or our nationality—because we are far more interconnected than we might want to believe; because what happens in South Africa will affect what happens in America; because we are all a part of the overarching and ongoing story of humanity and the spirit of Ubuntu.

Mowbray Presbyterian Church is unique in that its membership includes white, coloured, and black South Africans, as well as members from across the continent. To have a church that is multiracial and multinational is, as I am told, quite unusual along the Western Cape. But Mowbray’s family construct reveals humanity’s capacity when lived in synchronicity, cultural multiplicity, and human unity. I experience grace in the interactions I have with congregants, for they are willing to search for the image of God in me. They do, in fact, live into 1 Corinthians 12 (see above). For this reason, I find my placement at Mowbray to provide the utmost prospect to learn, to hear stories, and to experience revelation. I know I will grow; I know I will gain. I pray that I can offer half as much in return.