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“For to this end we toil and struggle, because we have our hope set on the living God” – Timothy 4:10a
If we are Christians, then we should struggle. If we believe in a higher power, then we should struggle. We struggle against things of this world and for the higher good. As my measuring stick for what we should struggle for, I follow Jesus’ mandate to love our neighbors as ourselves. Jesus did not qualify neighbors. Jesus does not say love your neighbors who are white, elder, and male. As we share this earth, we should always act in the Spirit of loving our neighbor, including every living being.
In my experience in KwaZulu-Natal, I often feel that respect for a person is based on age and sometimes on gender. With the dozen people I have shared that my dad has washed countless more dishes than me during my lifetime, every person is surprised. In my host family, my host parents never wash dishes, nor my half-host-brother, who sometimes visits. Also, part of my host sisters’ role is to serve food to my host parents. I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve seen my host parents dish up supper for themselves. Older age seems to give one veto power. I struggle with respect being based on age because I grew up in a home where every person’s opinion mattered equally, no matter the person’s age. Of course my parents still had veto power, but they rarely used it and we would almost always agree on the most reasonable and best decision. I believe we should respect all people equally as a fellow child of God.
A few Saturdays ago I attended a seven hour long ELCSA Youth League Executive meeting, almost all in IsiZulu. When a snack came for the group a couple hours into the meeting and was placed on a table in front, I whispered to the person next to me, asking if I could serve everyone. She replied with a laugh that they can serve themselves. Yet, I noticed that only the Dean and ranking male members were enjoying the snack. Finally, I walked to the table and served everyone pastries and juice. I appreciated the break from sitting and I felt helpful. During a break, the male secretary and I were discussing President Zuma’s wives. Then, he offered that I could be his second wife- I was so quick in serving everyone; some women refused to serve men and they were lazy. I replied that I believe that vice-versa is also true-if men refuse to serve women, then they are lazy. His jaw dropped. I continued that our savior got down on his knees and washed his disciples’ feet and told us to do likewise. He said nothing, but looked at me with skeptical amusement. This is the only time that I’ve verbally confronted someone about sexist remarks. I haven’t even discussed the topic with my host mom. Yet, if someone is going to offer me his hand in marriage, he better know what he’s getting himself into. Growing up with three brothers, I never felt that they could do something I couldn’t based on gender. Yet, seeing women as less than men is a problem the world over, including in the US.
Finally, my last major struggle has been about whether I am where God wants me. On a day at Dalton Primary School, when I have made a few copies but mostly sat without a given task, I felt that I was serving little purpose. When I struggled to accomplish tasks based on cultural differences, I questioned if South Africa is truly the place that I am most effective with my gifts.
Yet, the reality of struggle is that struggle will make you stronger if you continue to strive to love. When I return to the US, I will show my parents more respect; I will aim to empower more women; I will live with more patience and empower people who feel purposeless. Even though these struggles have frustrated me, I never would choose that they had not happened. Even at school, the months of frustration have given me a taste of what it feels like to be trapped and powerless within an inefficient system, a lesson I could never learn in a classroom or pay to understand. Furthermore, I know that people at the school truly appreciate my presence. My principal said yesterday that knowing that I’m leaving is like knowing when you are going to die. He wants me to stay forever. Plus, by trying to not come off as the pushy American and setting a schedule when the educators respect me, I feel fulfilled at Dalton Primary School the two days per week I am at the school since January. I visit each class once per week and I am in a classroom three of the five hours per day.
Furthermore, living in South Africa has taught me to keep my perception of my struggles in check. Last week, I was making my mom a birthday card, writing down for each year she has lived an important person, event, accomplishment, destination, characteristic, or hobby in her life. As I was brainstorming a list, a man named John, from the Democratic Republic of Congo, started sharing about how, since he fled the DRC over a year ago, he has no idea where are his nine siblings. He shared, “It’s like I’m coming from nowhere.” I looked down at the paper stating blessings in my mom’s life and felt humbled. He shared many more eye opening information (which you can find on the third page of this newsletter). Keeping perceptions in check of our own struggles is a huge challenge for many Americans. Are we striving to show love in our struggle? Are we in tune with others’ struggles? May we continue to struggle for the glory of God as we grow in loving service.
God, please grant us the courage and compassion to seek to understand the struggles of our neighbors. May our struggles glorify you as we seek to be your hands and feet in this world. Amen.
Showing posts with label From Newsletter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label From Newsletter. Show all posts
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Mr. Mzila
August 2000 to date has brought more excruciating pain to my family than I imagined I could bear. Through natural death I have lost nine members. That being the case, one has to gracefully accept the harsh reality that befalls humanity from time to time.
At first it was the sister who was a twin with the other. Death struck after long illness that could have given one hope for recovery. In a matter of weeks my mother had to succumb to hypertension that had regulated her life since time immortal. One touchy moment about death is that, quite often, when one is less than three days from it all (through ill-health) one hardly ever communicates so there is no way to know what exactly is on the mind of the-soon-to-die. Further worthy of note in our culture, death is received as needing an unnatural cause. God’s retribution, anger of the ancestors or sheer witchcraft are just some of the “imagined” possibilities or causes.
When my sister, who had just qualified as a teacher, passed on, death had gradually gnawed at her that I could not recognize her on the deathbed breathing her last. Shape, skin and everything about her had completely changed. In fact, the doctor told me that she had died some two days before it actually happened! One death picture I have indelibly stuck on my mind is peace. All the anguish associated with illness suddenly disappears just before death. Just maybe that is proof enough that dying is the passage to somewhere else.
When my all-powerful dad fell in August 2006 the words escaped me for a moment. I had got myself used to attending to his every need. I was still communicating with him despite his failing brainpower. As if I could not stand the reality of death striking at that time, it was my youngest brother who was by his bedside when he breathed his last. His failing life should have alerted me of his final demise but alas it would not be! As I look back on my father’s life, he served as a model of strength and character for me. In all the days of my life I had only once seen my father cry; that was when mother’s corpse was ushered in for a night vigil. The visual imprint remains as vivid as ever, only less painful now.
My two nephews moved on at different times, though it was death after another but each with the weight and gloom of its own. The fact that we have gone through all this in such a short space of time makes us neither wiser nor stronger about what the future still holds. On the contrary though, death gives one inner strength, peace and acceptance. As it is said elsewhere, “death is the necessary end to life”. So, in dealing with it, we have to be graceful as we can be. Incidentally my family graveyard is on the other side of our gate in full view as one moves in and out. We, then, can’t be shedding a tear or two day in and day out.
My conclusion would be that what befell us did and no amount of wishful thinking would make the reality an atom less harsher. Death is a cause for reverence, humbleness, pain, and finally acceptance and celebration. The latter is because of good life thrust upon us however undeserved.
At first it was the sister who was a twin with the other. Death struck after long illness that could have given one hope for recovery. In a matter of weeks my mother had to succumb to hypertension that had regulated her life since time immortal. One touchy moment about death is that, quite often, when one is less than three days from it all (through ill-health) one hardly ever communicates so there is no way to know what exactly is on the mind of the-soon-to-die. Further worthy of note in our culture, death is received as needing an unnatural cause. God’s retribution, anger of the ancestors or sheer witchcraft are just some of the “imagined” possibilities or causes.
When my sister, who had just qualified as a teacher, passed on, death had gradually gnawed at her that I could not recognize her on the deathbed breathing her last. Shape, skin and everything about her had completely changed. In fact, the doctor told me that she had died some two days before it actually happened! One death picture I have indelibly stuck on my mind is peace. All the anguish associated with illness suddenly disappears just before death. Just maybe that is proof enough that dying is the passage to somewhere else.
When my all-powerful dad fell in August 2006 the words escaped me for a moment. I had got myself used to attending to his every need. I was still communicating with him despite his failing brainpower. As if I could not stand the reality of death striking at that time, it was my youngest brother who was by his bedside when he breathed his last. His failing life should have alerted me of his final demise but alas it would not be! As I look back on my father’s life, he served as a model of strength and character for me. In all the days of my life I had only once seen my father cry; that was when mother’s corpse was ushered in for a night vigil. The visual imprint remains as vivid as ever, only less painful now.
My two nephews moved on at different times, though it was death after another but each with the weight and gloom of its own. The fact that we have gone through all this in such a short space of time makes us neither wiser nor stronger about what the future still holds. On the contrary though, death gives one inner strength, peace and acceptance. As it is said elsewhere, “death is the necessary end to life”. So, in dealing with it, we have to be graceful as we can be. Incidentally my family graveyard is on the other side of our gate in full view as one moves in and out. We, then, can’t be shedding a tear or two day in and day out.
My conclusion would be that what befell us did and no amount of wishful thinking would make the reality an atom less harsher. Death is a cause for reverence, humbleness, pain, and finally acceptance and celebration. The latter is because of good life thrust upon us however undeserved.
Struggle: Weight
Over the last sixty years in South Africa, the word struggle often referred to the struggle against the Apartheid government. According to my Pietermaritzburg Agency for Christian Social Awareness (PACSA) advisor, only recently people have used the word struggle in other contexts. In the US, it seems that people use the word struggle most often in the context of weight. People also talk about weight in South Africa, but in my communities, they talk about weight in a different way.
On Christmas Eve, the deputy principal of the school at which I volunteer visited my home. He and my host mom go way back. At one point in our conversation, the Deputy Principal commented that he was amazed that I didn’t seem to have lost or gained weight since I arrived. My host mom shot back that I had gained weight. The Deputy Principal didn’t agree and my host mom stated that I had gained a little weight. I said nothing.
In my communities, people associate gaining weight with being well taken care of. Last weekend, one of my guardians in South Africa stated, “I want you three sizes bigger by the time you leave here or people will think we didn’t take care of you.” Friends and family, even if I am not three sizes bigger by the time I go home, I promise that the people in South Africa are taking good care of me.
People in my communities also associate weight with age. When my friend, who is six years older than me, asked a local person who was older, she said to my friend, “You are.” I asked why. She bluntly said, “Because she is fatter.”
People will even give me contrasting opinions about my weight over a couple of days. About a month ago, I was playing outside with the neighbor kids and a neighbor said, “The last time I saw you, you were skinny, and now you’re getting fat.” Two days earlier, a girl guessed I was sixteen years old. I replied that although I am twenty-three years old, people often guess that I am sixteen or seventeen. She replied, “People think you are young because you are so beautiful.”
Even after six months here I am still poor at guessing people’s age. Last week at PACSA, I thought two younger girls were in their mid-twenties, and instead they are nineteen and twenty-two. They thought I was younger than them.
In general, people are not as uptight about their weight here, for better and for worse. For better, people seem more comfortable with their bodies. For worse, when I am on a public taxi (seating sixteen people), I may realize that someone’s arm was on my knee, but know it because the person was squishing me. Perhaps I’ve lost touch with the size of the American people, but I would say many people, especially women, are larger here. May we take care of, but not obsess over, our bodies as we struggle to follow the Spirit.
On Christmas Eve, the deputy principal of the school at which I volunteer visited my home. He and my host mom go way back. At one point in our conversation, the Deputy Principal commented that he was amazed that I didn’t seem to have lost or gained weight since I arrived. My host mom shot back that I had gained weight. The Deputy Principal didn’t agree and my host mom stated that I had gained a little weight. I said nothing.
In my communities, people associate gaining weight with being well taken care of. Last weekend, one of my guardians in South Africa stated, “I want you three sizes bigger by the time you leave here or people will think we didn’t take care of you.” Friends and family, even if I am not three sizes bigger by the time I go home, I promise that the people in South Africa are taking good care of me.
People in my communities also associate weight with age. When my friend, who is six years older than me, asked a local person who was older, she said to my friend, “You are.” I asked why. She bluntly said, “Because she is fatter.”
People will even give me contrasting opinions about my weight over a couple of days. About a month ago, I was playing outside with the neighbor kids and a neighbor said, “The last time I saw you, you were skinny, and now you’re getting fat.” Two days earlier, a girl guessed I was sixteen years old. I replied that although I am twenty-three years old, people often guess that I am sixteen or seventeen. She replied, “People think you are young because you are so beautiful.”
Even after six months here I am still poor at guessing people’s age. Last week at PACSA, I thought two younger girls were in their mid-twenties, and instead they are nineteen and twenty-two. They thought I was younger than them.
In general, people are not as uptight about their weight here, for better and for worse. For better, people seem more comfortable with their bodies. For worse, when I am on a public taxi (seating sixteen people), I may realize that someone’s arm was on my knee, but know it because the person was squishing me. Perhaps I’ve lost touch with the size of the American people, but I would say many people, especially women, are larger here. May we take care of, but not obsess over, our bodies as we struggle to follow the Spirit.
A Few Words in isiZulu: Ngiyabonga and Siyabonga
Ngiyabonga – I thank you
Grammar: When you say thank you for more people than just yourself, you would say “Siyabonga,” meaning, “We thank you.”
Grammar: When you say thank you for more people than just yourself, you would say “Siyabonga,” meaning, “We thank you.”
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
A Few Words in isiZulu: Unjani? Ngiyapila
Unjani- How are you?
Ngiyapila- I am well or in good health
Grammar: The above words are for greeting one person and replying about one’s self. However, if you are asking a group of people how they are, you say, “Ninjani?” If you are replying for a group of people, or even regarding your family as well, you would say, “Siyapila.”
Comments: I often greet people first, whether in the US or in South Africa. However, I usually do not ask strangers how they are. Yet, when I ask or a person asks me, the person’s eyes usually light up, presumably because I know enough isiZulu to ask how they are, to show that I care about them.
Ngiyapila- I am well or in good health
Grammar: The above words are for greeting one person and replying about one’s self. However, if you are asking a group of people how they are, you say, “Ninjani?” If you are replying for a group of people, or even regarding your family as well, you would say, “Siyapila.”
Comments: I often greet people first, whether in the US or in South Africa. However, I usually do not ask strangers how they are. Yet, when I ask or a person asks me, the person’s eyes usually light up, presumably because I know enough isiZulu to ask how they are, to show that I care about them.
January Sound Bytes
For a week in late January, I had the opportunity to see God in the faces of Lutheran partners from the US and South Africa. The people shared concerns, passions and interests, but most importantly, they showed one another love. Below, I include quotes from many of these partners. These partners saw God in one another, and they parted ways with a renewed sense of hope in how God moves across all man-made boarders, such as country, race and gender.
From Minnesota Partners during one gathering…
Prompt from Minnesota leader: “Please give your name, where
you are from, and one thing that has surprised, inspired or
amazed you, in a minute or less.”
“Tremendous joy”
“I think the thing that surprised me the most was that church was
three and a half hours long, and I liked it.”
“It’s not until you get here until you realize how much they have to give to us.”
“I’m just touched by the depth of life.”
“You are my brothers and sisters in Christ.”
“It was like I had been with a girlfriend for years.”
“If I ever complain about anything, you have permission to slap me silly.”
“His whole life exudes hope.”
“A deep Christian faith that is second to none.”
150 members at the church, three cars
“They have a very warm feeling, these people.”
“It’s making me a better person.”
“The tremendous potential in this country.”
“People are the same the world over.”
“We’re all God’s children.”
“We’re so caught up in our stuff.”
“We have the stuff, but quite often lack the spirit that it is the people.”
“They talk about the same problems as we do.”
“I really do believe that we’re walking together.”
“I’ve always known that the people around the world that love Christ are our brothers and sisters. But I knew it here [head], but now I know it here [heart].”
Other quotes from the week…
“Be at home.” – SA Partner
“It’s a beautiful thing to see how God works.” – Pastor Jean (US)
“I was so worried that what we would do wouldn’t be good enough for Americans.” – A South African who took us to a lion park, a zoo and out to lunch
“We’re about empowering one another.” – Pastor Jean (US)
“Partnership is about relationships mainly.” – Dean Myaka (SA)
“We are very different, but we have the same …Lord, …waters of baptism, …communion.” – Pastor Harvey (US) to a SA congregation
“I wish you could teach us how to have joy in giving.” – Pastor Harvey (US) to a SA congregation
“We are just co-workers with you. Keep reminding us of that.” – Dean Myaka (SA)
“And in this common Lord, we are all blessed.” – Pastor Harvey (US)
“God bless you for coming to see our place.” – SA partner
“We need to go back home and tell them that we don’t know how to do evangelism and we need to learn from our South African brothers and sisters.” – Pastor Harvey
“Christ is reality and deeds.” – Pastor Harvey
“I think we’ve all become stronger in our faith.” – Pastor Jean (US)
“He calls us all to work together… for the glory of God.” – Pastor Jean (US)
“God brought His people together.” – SA partner
“You chaps have been wonderful.”– SA partner to US reps
“We couldn’t’ve asked to have been treated better than we were.”
– US partner to SA reps
Helping US partners would give SA partners: “The confidence that we are equal… even though we can never be equal.” – SA partner
“You are evangelists. We take care of ourselves.” – US partner
“You are missionaries to us.” – US partner
“The truth is… we have an awful lot of needs.” – US partner
“This is an equal partnership already.” – US partner
From Minnesota Partners during one gathering…
Prompt from Minnesota leader: “Please give your name, where
you are from, and one thing that has surprised, inspired or
amazed you, in a minute or less.”
“Tremendous joy”
“I think the thing that surprised me the most was that church was
three and a half hours long, and I liked it.”
“It’s not until you get here until you realize how much they have to give to us.”
“I’m just touched by the depth of life.”
“You are my brothers and sisters in Christ.”
“It was like I had been with a girlfriend for years.”
“If I ever complain about anything, you have permission to slap me silly.”
“His whole life exudes hope.”
“A deep Christian faith that is second to none.”
150 members at the church, three cars
“They have a very warm feeling, these people.”
“It’s making me a better person.”
“The tremendous potential in this country.”
“People are the same the world over.”
“We’re all God’s children.”
“We’re so caught up in our stuff.”
“We have the stuff, but quite often lack the spirit that it is the people.”
“They talk about the same problems as we do.”
“I really do believe that we’re walking together.”
“I’ve always known that the people around the world that love Christ are our brothers and sisters. But I knew it here [head], but now I know it here [heart].”
Other quotes from the week…
“Be at home.” – SA Partner
“It’s a beautiful thing to see how God works.” – Pastor Jean (US)
“I was so worried that what we would do wouldn’t be good enough for Americans.” – A South African who took us to a lion park, a zoo and out to lunch
“We’re about empowering one another.” – Pastor Jean (US)
“Partnership is about relationships mainly.” – Dean Myaka (SA)
“We are very different, but we have the same …Lord, …waters of baptism, …communion.” – Pastor Harvey (US) to a SA congregation
“I wish you could teach us how to have joy in giving.” – Pastor Harvey (US) to a SA congregation
“We are just co-workers with you. Keep reminding us of that.” – Dean Myaka (SA)
“And in this common Lord, we are all blessed.” – Pastor Harvey (US)
“God bless you for coming to see our place.” – SA partner
“We need to go back home and tell them that we don’t know how to do evangelism and we need to learn from our South African brothers and sisters.” – Pastor Harvey
“Christ is reality and deeds.” – Pastor Harvey
“I think we’ve all become stronger in our faith.” – Pastor Jean (US)
“He calls us all to work together… for the glory of God.” – Pastor Jean (US)
“God brought His people together.” – SA partner
“You chaps have been wonderful.”– SA partner to US reps
“We couldn’t’ve asked to have been treated better than we were.”
– US partner to SA reps
Helping US partners would give SA partners: “The confidence that we are equal… even though we can never be equal.” – SA partner
“You are evangelists. We take care of ourselves.” – US partner
“You are missionaries to us.” – US partner
“The truth is… we have an awful lot of needs.” – US partner
“This is an equal partnership already.” – US partner
January Snapshots
My host sisters and I often went for daily walks; apparently, when
we started going for walks, so did other people in Cool Air
Saw “Invictus” in theaters
Planned and led a youth retreat
Went to Durban for New Years and visited Juma Musjit Mosque,
beaches and the BAT (Bartel Arts Trust) Centre
Attended the first day at Dalton Primary School for 2010, where
the teachers greeted me with hugs
Sang “Siyahamba” walking home with Sunday School children
After spending a wonderful week with the Minnesota partners, I
typed 13,635 words in four days about meetings and experiences
we started going for walks, so did other people in Cool Air
Saw “Invictus” in theaters
Planned and led a youth retreat
Went to Durban for New Years and visited Juma Musjit Mosque,
beaches and the BAT (Bartel Arts Trust) Centre
Attended the first day at Dalton Primary School for 2010, where
the teachers greeted me with hugs
Sang “Siyahamba” walking home with Sunday School children
After spending a wonderful week with the Minnesota partners, I
typed 13,635 words in four days about meetings and experiences
Shine Your Light: A Message to My Youth Group
Based on Matthew 5:1-16
This morning, in a focused rush, I stopped at the shop to buy a few things for the retreat. As I stepped up to the counter, the shopkeeper and his friend started asking questions. As I answered the first few questions, the other tasks I needed to finish before the retreat raced through my head. Yet, then I thought of our scripture reading for today, about being meek and pure in heart, about being the light of the world. The men’s questions continued into topics about justice- reflective of Jesus’ encouragement in the Beatitudes to be peacemakers and to seek righteousness. We discussed affirmative action, poverty, and differences between the US and South Africa- whether the US was better or not. Although I thought I was going to the shop to buy a few things, my more important task was to witness to what it means to be a Christian and to see God in others.
Close your eyes. Imagine looking out onto the large Sea of Galilee. You watch your teacher move away from the crowd and up the small mountain. With the other disciples, you follow your teacher up the hill. Your teacher, Jesus, seems to be a many of mystery, for he always seems to surprise and challenge you with his words. He turns towards you and begins to speak… (I then read Matthew 5:1-13).
In the Beatitudes, Jesus shares the ideal characteristics of a person. With these characteristics, a person will be blessed, also interpreted as satisfied or happy. You will be blessed if you are merciful… pure in heart… peacemakers… persecuted.
Why would we follow these characteristics? Why would we want to be blessed? Jesus is a miracle worker in people’s lives and he is the giver of new life. He not only worked miracles or gave life two thousand years ago, but he also works miracles and gives life today. Jesus Christ sacrificed his life so that we could live. We should walk in his footsteps as a living sacrifice.
“You are the light of the world” (Matthew 5:14a). When Jesus told his followers that each is a light in this world, he did not distinguish between whether or not each followed the Beatitudes. Each person who follows Jesus is a light in this world.
You are each a light of the world. God has given each of you so many gifts to share, and thereby give glory to God. Please don’t hide your light. Shine for all to see.
“…Let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in Heaven.” – Matthew 5:16
Amen.
This morning, in a focused rush, I stopped at the shop to buy a few things for the retreat. As I stepped up to the counter, the shopkeeper and his friend started asking questions. As I answered the first few questions, the other tasks I needed to finish before the retreat raced through my head. Yet, then I thought of our scripture reading for today, about being meek and pure in heart, about being the light of the world. The men’s questions continued into topics about justice- reflective of Jesus’ encouragement in the Beatitudes to be peacemakers and to seek righteousness. We discussed affirmative action, poverty, and differences between the US and South Africa- whether the US was better or not. Although I thought I was going to the shop to buy a few things, my more important task was to witness to what it means to be a Christian and to see God in others.
Close your eyes. Imagine looking out onto the large Sea of Galilee. You watch your teacher move away from the crowd and up the small mountain. With the other disciples, you follow your teacher up the hill. Your teacher, Jesus, seems to be a many of mystery, for he always seems to surprise and challenge you with his words. He turns towards you and begins to speak… (I then read Matthew 5:1-13).
In the Beatitudes, Jesus shares the ideal characteristics of a person. With these characteristics, a person will be blessed, also interpreted as satisfied or happy. You will be blessed if you are merciful… pure in heart… peacemakers… persecuted.
Why would we follow these characteristics? Why would we want to be blessed? Jesus is a miracle worker in people’s lives and he is the giver of new life. He not only worked miracles or gave life two thousand years ago, but he also works miracles and gives life today. Jesus Christ sacrificed his life so that we could live. We should walk in his footsteps as a living sacrifice.
“You are the light of the world” (Matthew 5:14a). When Jesus told his followers that each is a light in this world, he did not distinguish between whether or not each followed the Beatitudes. Each person who follows Jesus is a light in this world.
You are each a light of the world. God has given each of you so many gifts to share, and thereby give glory to God. Please don’t hide your light. Shine for all to see.
“…Let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in Heaven.” – Matthew 5:16
Amen.
A Spiritual Word: Hope
“We also boast in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.” Romans 5:3b-5
A new year screams hope-especially the year 2010 in South Africa when Africa will host the FIFA World Cup for the first time. Furthermore, my two youngest sisters and my young neighbor/cousin/almost brother wanted to do something and intensely focused on the task of contributing to this newsletter as my “South African Friends” (see page 2), reinforcing the theme of hope, as they are the future. When I read the first few verses of Romans 5, this Biblical passage about hope seemed to be speaking about black South Africans.
Imagine that you are persecuted your whole life because of a trait you did not choose and cannot change. You stand in a different line at the post office based on this trait. People that have a society-deemed-better uncontrollable trait ask you to fetch them things because you have a different, uncontrollable trait. You cannot leave your home after certain hours or go in specific areas of town. Black South Africans, the vast majority of South African’s population, lived this reality for decades under apartheid.
As I mentally prepared for living in South Africa, I prepared myself to receive bitterness based on my skin color. In some ways, I thought the bitterness justified shown towards the oppressors by the unjustly oppressed. Yet, since I’ve arrived in South Africa, no one has shown me bitterness. In my small community, people initially stare at me as a celebrity, humbly divert their eyes to the ground or measure me with their eyes, but I never feel demonized. In drastic contrast, people have surprised me over and over with their kind eyes and genuine smiles when I greet them. When I asked Dean Myaka why I received no bitterness or anger, he calmly responded, “It’s not in our nature; you can’t just ill-treat people out of the blue.” His intuitively clear and simple answer left me speechless. If anything is left from the apartheid that I sense in interactions I share with others, it is a sense of doubt about whether we may greet one another as fellow humans, as if others are unworthy of my acknowledgment. How do people come to a point when they question their self-worth? I am in awe of and humbled by my South African brothers and sisters.
Martin Luther King Jr. articulates a rationale for treating oppressing people with love in his collection of sermons called, Strength to Love. In the 1960s, Martin Luther King Jr. spoke of the power of love to overcome racial injustice: “There will be no permanent solution to the race problem until oppressed men develop the capacity to love their enemies. The darkness of racial injustice will be dispelled only by the light of forgiving love” (55). Hope cannot be found in continuing the cycle of injustice, but breaking the cycle with love. Furthermore, he shares that, although centuries of unjust oppression could lead people to feel bitter and act correspondingly with hate, hate is never the answer. Dr. King states that if people act hatefully in retaliation: “…the new order we seek will be little more than a duplicate of the old order. We must in strength and humility meet hate with love” (55). Even after years of suffering, Dr. Kind declares that love is the only solution to hateful actions.
In Romans, Paul writes from a prison cell of how suffering leads to hope. Although people do not often look to add suffering in their lives, I feel the strength of the people all around me in South Africa. Yesterday, I greeted an older woman as I passed her on my way home. She was carrying a very heavy parcel on her head (talk about neck strength), and I asked if she was okay. Instead of giving me some of her burden, she started asking about me: my name, my last name, where I am from, what I am doing in South Africa, etc. In return, I asked where she was going and asked her name: Ivy. I turned to go, and she called after me, “You didn’t ask my last name!” Taken slightly aback-family affiliations are much more important in my community in South Africa than my community in the US- I smiled and asked her last name. After responding with a smile, she called after me something along the lines of: “I wish I could spend lots of time with you so I could learn English.” I called back: “And I could learn isiZulu!” As I walked away, I felt humbled by this woman; Ivy had been oppressed by a system run by white people for the majority of her life. Yet, in our conversation, mostly in English, she told me that she wishes she could learn from me. Talk about character! She demonstrated Paul’s abstract argument. Her skin spoke to her suffering, her heavy parcel and even steps demonstrated her endurance, her conversation proved her character, and her eyes and spirit shone with hope. The people of South Africa ceaselessly teach me about deep, spiritual hope.
At times this year, I have felt a loss of hope. Yet, these are the times when I am depending on my own understanding. Of course I should loose hope in my understanding, for my understanding is limited. Hoping solely based on my own understanding is not a deep, spiritual hope worthy of my efforts. Deep, spiritual hope is based on something larger than myself: God’s power and grace are unlimited. God gave us the ultimate reason to hope when he died on the cross to give us new life. As our creator, God lives in each of us. You will find God, and therefore a reason to hope, in every person’s face. Perhaps people’s faces do not always read love; maybe the faces seem overtaken by hate. Yet, God has still created each of us. Furthermore, when God gave us freewill, he gave us the capacity to choose love over hate. We may choose to show love, thereby sharing God, leading to hope. In love, God reveals hope.
God, Guide us to see blessings of hope every day. Amen.
A new year screams hope-especially the year 2010 in South Africa when Africa will host the FIFA World Cup for the first time. Furthermore, my two youngest sisters and my young neighbor/cousin/almost brother wanted to do something and intensely focused on the task of contributing to this newsletter as my “South African Friends” (see page 2), reinforcing the theme of hope, as they are the future. When I read the first few verses of Romans 5, this Biblical passage about hope seemed to be speaking about black South Africans.
Imagine that you are persecuted your whole life because of a trait you did not choose and cannot change. You stand in a different line at the post office based on this trait. People that have a society-deemed-better uncontrollable trait ask you to fetch them things because you have a different, uncontrollable trait. You cannot leave your home after certain hours or go in specific areas of town. Black South Africans, the vast majority of South African’s population, lived this reality for decades under apartheid.
As I mentally prepared for living in South Africa, I prepared myself to receive bitterness based on my skin color. In some ways, I thought the bitterness justified shown towards the oppressors by the unjustly oppressed. Yet, since I’ve arrived in South Africa, no one has shown me bitterness. In my small community, people initially stare at me as a celebrity, humbly divert their eyes to the ground or measure me with their eyes, but I never feel demonized. In drastic contrast, people have surprised me over and over with their kind eyes and genuine smiles when I greet them. When I asked Dean Myaka why I received no bitterness or anger, he calmly responded, “It’s not in our nature; you can’t just ill-treat people out of the blue.” His intuitively clear and simple answer left me speechless. If anything is left from the apartheid that I sense in interactions I share with others, it is a sense of doubt about whether we may greet one another as fellow humans, as if others are unworthy of my acknowledgment. How do people come to a point when they question their self-worth? I am in awe of and humbled by my South African brothers and sisters.
Martin Luther King Jr. articulates a rationale for treating oppressing people with love in his collection of sermons called, Strength to Love. In the 1960s, Martin Luther King Jr. spoke of the power of love to overcome racial injustice: “There will be no permanent solution to the race problem until oppressed men develop the capacity to love their enemies. The darkness of racial injustice will be dispelled only by the light of forgiving love” (55). Hope cannot be found in continuing the cycle of injustice, but breaking the cycle with love. Furthermore, he shares that, although centuries of unjust oppression could lead people to feel bitter and act correspondingly with hate, hate is never the answer. Dr. King states that if people act hatefully in retaliation: “…the new order we seek will be little more than a duplicate of the old order. We must in strength and humility meet hate with love” (55). Even after years of suffering, Dr. Kind declares that love is the only solution to hateful actions.
In Romans, Paul writes from a prison cell of how suffering leads to hope. Although people do not often look to add suffering in their lives, I feel the strength of the people all around me in South Africa. Yesterday, I greeted an older woman as I passed her on my way home. She was carrying a very heavy parcel on her head (talk about neck strength), and I asked if she was okay. Instead of giving me some of her burden, she started asking about me: my name, my last name, where I am from, what I am doing in South Africa, etc. In return, I asked where she was going and asked her name: Ivy. I turned to go, and she called after me, “You didn’t ask my last name!” Taken slightly aback-family affiliations are much more important in my community in South Africa than my community in the US- I smiled and asked her last name. After responding with a smile, she called after me something along the lines of: “I wish I could spend lots of time with you so I could learn English.” I called back: “And I could learn isiZulu!” As I walked away, I felt humbled by this woman; Ivy had been oppressed by a system run by white people for the majority of her life. Yet, in our conversation, mostly in English, she told me that she wishes she could learn from me. Talk about character! She demonstrated Paul’s abstract argument. Her skin spoke to her suffering, her heavy parcel and even steps demonstrated her endurance, her conversation proved her character, and her eyes and spirit shone with hope. The people of South Africa ceaselessly teach me about deep, spiritual hope.
At times this year, I have felt a loss of hope. Yet, these are the times when I am depending on my own understanding. Of course I should loose hope in my understanding, for my understanding is limited. Hoping solely based on my own understanding is not a deep, spiritual hope worthy of my efforts. Deep, spiritual hope is based on something larger than myself: God’s power and grace are unlimited. God gave us the ultimate reason to hope when he died on the cross to give us new life. As our creator, God lives in each of us. You will find God, and therefore a reason to hope, in every person’s face. Perhaps people’s faces do not always read love; maybe the faces seem overtaken by hate. Yet, God has still created each of us. Furthermore, when God gave us freewill, he gave us the capacity to choose love over hate. We may choose to show love, thereby sharing God, leading to hope. In love, God reveals hope.
God, Guide us to see blessings of hope every day. Amen.
Monday, December 21, 2009
The Importance of Children: A Morning Devotional for the Teachers of Dalton Primary
“People were bringing little children to him in order that he might touch them; and the disciples spoke sternly to them. But when Jesus saw this, he was indignant and said to them, “Let the little children come to me; do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs. Truly I tell you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it.” And he took them up in his arms, laid his hands on them, and blessed them.” Mark 10: 13-16
Jesus wants the little children to come to him. During this devotional, I will share three points: children are important, we are examples of Jesus Christ’s love, and we are all children of God.
First of all, I want to thank you for recognizing the importance of children, as you chose the profession of being teachers. In the Gospel of Mark, Jesus encourages the children to come to him. At the time, this identifying of the importance of children was contrary to the cultural norm, where adults treated children as less than a person deserving respect. Jesus ignored the cultural norms as he pointed out the significance of children. Thank you for shaping the leaders of tomorrow.
Secondly, we are each examples of Jesus’ love. My favorite part of each school day is when we gather at the beginning of the day to sing and pray. As we worship, the children look up to you, literally in front of them, as Christian examples. Not only do they see you as examples of Christianity at work as you worship, but also as you act out your beliefs in the classroom. We serve as important examples in these children’s lives, because the scripture says that it is only as children that we “receive the kingdom of God.” We should show Jesus’ love in all our actions.
How do we show love? By hitting them? By encouraging them? Jesus, our example in every day life, tells us to love our neighbors, not with a few actions, but with every action. Jesus demonstrated love by washing the disciples feet. He said verbally and through his actions that status and power does not change how much we love each neighbor. Our savior embraced children.
Thirdly, we are all children of God. We all matter equally to God. Jesus gives children as an example of who receives the kingdom of God. I really enjoy the South African concept of “ubuntu,” which means that we are humans because of one another. In how we treat our fellow children, no matter their wealth, nationality, race, or age, we bring ourselves as humanity up or down.
Thank you for recognizing the importance of children. We should show Jesus’ love to the children in every action, every day. As children of God, each of us we are precious in God’s eyes. May we be instruments of God’s love, this day and always.
Jesus wants the little children to come to him. During this devotional, I will share three points: children are important, we are examples of Jesus Christ’s love, and we are all children of God.
First of all, I want to thank you for recognizing the importance of children, as you chose the profession of being teachers. In the Gospel of Mark, Jesus encourages the children to come to him. At the time, this identifying of the importance of children was contrary to the cultural norm, where adults treated children as less than a person deserving respect. Jesus ignored the cultural norms as he pointed out the significance of children. Thank you for shaping the leaders of tomorrow.
Secondly, we are each examples of Jesus’ love. My favorite part of each school day is when we gather at the beginning of the day to sing and pray. As we worship, the children look up to you, literally in front of them, as Christian examples. Not only do they see you as examples of Christianity at work as you worship, but also as you act out your beliefs in the classroom. We serve as important examples in these children’s lives, because the scripture says that it is only as children that we “receive the kingdom of God.” We should show Jesus’ love in all our actions.
How do we show love? By hitting them? By encouraging them? Jesus, our example in every day life, tells us to love our neighbors, not with a few actions, but with every action. Jesus demonstrated love by washing the disciples feet. He said verbally and through his actions that status and power does not change how much we love each neighbor. Our savior embraced children.
Thirdly, we are all children of God. We all matter equally to God. Jesus gives children as an example of who receives the kingdom of God. I really enjoy the South African concept of “ubuntu,” which means that we are humans because of one another. In how we treat our fellow children, no matter their wealth, nationality, race, or age, we bring ourselves as humanity up or down.
Thank you for recognizing the importance of children. We should show Jesus’ love to the children in every action, every day. As children of God, each of us we are precious in God’s eyes. May we be instruments of God’s love, this day and always.
November Events
- Attended a Christian, ‘Indian origin’ couple’s wedding and thanksgiving service
- Lutheran Church Circuit Rally, a service that all the Lutheran congregants are encouraged to attend, and the Circuit Meeting
- Shared a weekend in Durban with two ELCA volunteers, during which we visited uShaka Marine Park, shopped, ate delicious seafood, and took many pamphlets from a visitors’ information bureau
- November 25th – 30th: A retreat with group of ELCA volunteers during which we celebrated Thanksgiving and traveled to the Drakensburg mountains and Lesotho
- Lutheran Church Circuit Rally, a service that all the Lutheran congregants are encouraged to attend, and the Circuit Meeting
- Shared a weekend in Durban with two ELCA volunteers, during which we visited uShaka Marine Park, shopped, ate delicious seafood, and took many pamphlets from a visitors’ information bureau
- November 25th – 30th: A retreat with group of ELCA volunteers during which we celebrated Thanksgiving and traveled to the Drakensburg mountains and Lesotho
A Word in isiZulu: Sawubona/Sanbonani
Sawubona – used to greet one person
Sanibona/Sanibonani – used to greet more than one person
IsiZulu speakers will be impressed if you say “Sau’bona” or “San’bon” instead, because you will sound more like the natives.
Greeting other people is a sign of respect in IsiZulu culture.
Sanibona/Sanibonani – used to greet more than one person
IsiZulu speakers will be impressed if you say “Sau’bona” or “San’bon” instead, because you will sound more like the natives.
Greeting other people is a sign of respect in IsiZulu culture.
From a South African Friend: A Local Teacher, Sandy Govender *
South Africa’s ‘colourful’ past renders it an interesting case study for justice and its implementation. Major class differences exist among the citizens of our beautiful country; luxurious suburbs slumber adjacent to monstrous informal ‘squatter’ settlements. Such extreme differences in wealth and lifestyle exacerbate crime.
Although apartheid has disappeared from our legislation for fifteen years, its legacy still taunts us, having left some sectors of the population financially secure and others poverty stricken. For many South African youth poverty is the order of the day and a sense of hopelessness pervades. Many view crime as the only alternative or rather hope.
Initially when I hear of suffering inflicted on my people by ruthless criminals I wish for a justice system that would cause them as much pain and suffering as they so vengefully inflict on their victims. However, such reasoning is quite primitive and unproductive and does not serve to improve our society. Justice which does not sought to rehabilitate criminals is base and when we behave in this fashion we are lowering our standards of behavior to match that of criminals.
Many South Africans are disillusioned as our justice system battles to process the growing number of trials with efficacy. Hence many criminals walk free. Added to our disappointment and yearning for justice are our country’s new leaders who confuse serving ‘selflessly’ and ‘selfishly’, corruption is rife. Politicians line their pockets rather than the bellies to the nations growing population of AIDS orphans.
I am pretty sure that by now you are contentedly chewing on your apple pie marveling at how dark Africa really is. But to me, a 36 year-old female, a South African of ‘Indian origin’, this is my home, warm and familiar. Justice for me takes on many dimensions not just judgments and criminal courts. My personal beliefs are very strongly rooted in the law of Karma. Karl Marx described religion as the opium of the masses, yet I am quite content leaving justice to be meted out by God. “Behind the sometimes seemingly random or chaotic succession of events in our lives as well as in the world lies concealed the unfolding of a higher order and purpose” (Eckhart Tolle- A New Earth). Although this maybe difficult to conceive, especially, with the many senseless murders, we must realize that sometimes what is lost can never be found, we must accept and so find peace. Peace comes from a place of knowing that we are just a small part of a higher order and as expressed in the old zen saying “The snow falls, each flake in its appropriate place.”
Sandy Govender
November 20, 2009
*Added to blog with permission from Sandy Govender
Although apartheid has disappeared from our legislation for fifteen years, its legacy still taunts us, having left some sectors of the population financially secure and others poverty stricken. For many South African youth poverty is the order of the day and a sense of hopelessness pervades. Many view crime as the only alternative or rather hope.
Initially when I hear of suffering inflicted on my people by ruthless criminals I wish for a justice system that would cause them as much pain and suffering as they so vengefully inflict on their victims. However, such reasoning is quite primitive and unproductive and does not serve to improve our society. Justice which does not sought to rehabilitate criminals is base and when we behave in this fashion we are lowering our standards of behavior to match that of criminals.
Many South Africans are disillusioned as our justice system battles to process the growing number of trials with efficacy. Hence many criminals walk free. Added to our disappointment and yearning for justice are our country’s new leaders who confuse serving ‘selflessly’ and ‘selfishly’, corruption is rife. Politicians line their pockets rather than the bellies to the nations growing population of AIDS orphans.
I am pretty sure that by now you are contentedly chewing on your apple pie marveling at how dark Africa really is. But to me, a 36 year-old female, a South African of ‘Indian origin’, this is my home, warm and familiar. Justice for me takes on many dimensions not just judgments and criminal courts. My personal beliefs are very strongly rooted in the law of Karma. Karl Marx described religion as the opium of the masses, yet I am quite content leaving justice to be meted out by God. “Behind the sometimes seemingly random or chaotic succession of events in our lives as well as in the world lies concealed the unfolding of a higher order and purpose” (Eckhart Tolle- A New Earth). Although this maybe difficult to conceive, especially, with the many senseless murders, we must realize that sometimes what is lost can never be found, we must accept and so find peace. Peace comes from a place of knowing that we are just a small part of a higher order and as expressed in the old zen saying “The snow falls, each flake in its appropriate place.”
Sandy Govender
November 20, 2009
*Added to blog with permission from Sandy Govender
Justice
“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled. Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy. Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.” Matthew 5:6-8
From my room, I can see the tops of sugarcane blowing in the wind on the other side of the family’s wall. The sugarcane that surrounds Cool Air, my community, is bittersweet- not literally, but figuratively. The sugarcane is a symbol of injustice.
A few weeks after moving into the Zondi home, I saw my first other white person in the community. The older man drove his truck by our home at 5:30 in the morning. That evening I shared my surprise sighting with my host sister, who explained that the man was probably the farmer checking his sugarcane fields. Although white settlers originally brought the field workers from India, I often see the current field workers, who are all black. The difference between the farm owner and farm workers cannot only be seen based on skin color, but also in their homes. The farm owner’s home may easily be picked out by the palm trees standing above his nice, isolated home. According to my host mom, the farm workers live in compounds built by the farm owner or shacks because they do not make enough, less than R1,000 or US$140 a month, to buy their own nice homes. Is this the post-apartheid promise of justice?
Justice is a complex concept. Defined, justice means being just. According to Webster, “just” means: right or fair; righteousness; well-founded.* In No Future Without Forgiveness, Archbishop Desmond Tutu clarifies between two different types of justice: retributive justice and restorative justice. He encourages South Africa to pursue restorative justice where, “In the spirit of ubuntu, the central concern is the healing of breaches, the redressing of imbalances, the restoration of broken relationships, a seeking to rehabilitate both the victim and the perpetrator…” (54). Tutu’s idea of the goal of restorative justice, to create balance between humans, falls in line with Jesus’ call in the Beatitudes for us to pursue righteousness and be merciful. As Christians, we should pursue restorative justice. We are actively pursuing restorative justice, according to Tutu, when “…efforts are being made to work for healing, for forgiving, and for reconciliation” (55). We should seek justice today to help heal the pain caused by the injustice of yesterday and stifle the injustice of tomorrow.
Although, in South Africa, injustice began well before the Apartheid government, the Apartheid government seized the occurring racism and maximized the injustice against non-white, particularly black, for the white people’s benefit. In Bring Me My Machine Gun, Alan Russell explains the unfair redistribution of land, stating: “In the stroke of the pen, about 75 percent of South Africa’s population was relegated to about 13 percent of its territory” (182). When the Apartheid government started writing laws separating people based on skin color in the late 1940s and early 1950s, the government included a law that redistributed the land so that white people owned the majority of land and forced blacks to live on small pieces of land. Russell asserts that, “Under white rule three-quarters of the land was in the hands of the white minority” (189). Even though 25 percent of the land changed hands to the black government when apartheid ended in 1994, the majority of land continues to be owned by the white minority. Although the government continues to buy back land from willing white farmers, the process is moving slowly. Symbolically, the minority of whites still owning the majority of land argues against the end of opportunity based on race. However, the shadow of the chaos in Zimbabwe reminds South Africans to be patient. Yet, the end of the Apartheid’s injustice continues to affect South Africans without an end in sight.
My host mom states that they still need justice in South Africa. My host sister says that their will never be justice in South Africa. My host mom holds that justice will only occur when all South Africans are colored, for then they will have the same colored skin. I pray that skin color will not stop us for seeing all people as our neighbors to love and to strive for justice for all.
I am a white American from a privileged background. Who am I to speak about justice? Yet, through living in post-apartheid South Africa, I more clearly see the injustice in my own country, the US. Will anyone read this essay who is not white? Why can I only name a handful of friends in the US who are not white? How can I denounce the oppression in South Africa while I reap the benefits of my country killing the native people or moving them onto small reservations? Can I argue that our society is not racially segregated? How do I perpetrate, or at least ignorantly allow, injustice?
In the Sermon on the Mount in the gospel of Matthew, Jesus encourages his followers to care for everyone, particularly the marginalized in society. The Beatitudes stress that in the end, the world’s standards stand as contrary to God’s guidance. Jesus tells us, His followers, to pursue justice. Although life on earth may seem a lot easier if we just keep to our own business, Jesus actively cares for the marginalized in society, and, as his hands and feet in the world, so should we. In the inspiring and fantastic book, God Has a Dream, Desmond Tutu poignantly points out: “Can you imagine what would happen in this world if we accepted that fact about ourselves-that whether we like it or not we are members of one family?” (22). May we walk side by side with all of our brothers and sisters in Christ.
Heavenly Father, so often we loose ourselves in the rhythm of life and forget to live compassionately. Help us to see and act against the injustice in our society hand in hand with our brothers and sisters in Christ. Amen
From my room, I can see the tops of sugarcane blowing in the wind on the other side of the family’s wall. The sugarcane that surrounds Cool Air, my community, is bittersweet- not literally, but figuratively. The sugarcane is a symbol of injustice.
A few weeks after moving into the Zondi home, I saw my first other white person in the community. The older man drove his truck by our home at 5:30 in the morning. That evening I shared my surprise sighting with my host sister, who explained that the man was probably the farmer checking his sugarcane fields. Although white settlers originally brought the field workers from India, I often see the current field workers, who are all black. The difference between the farm owner and farm workers cannot only be seen based on skin color, but also in their homes. The farm owner’s home may easily be picked out by the palm trees standing above his nice, isolated home. According to my host mom, the farm workers live in compounds built by the farm owner or shacks because they do not make enough, less than R1,000 or US$140 a month, to buy their own nice homes. Is this the post-apartheid promise of justice?
Justice is a complex concept. Defined, justice means being just. According to Webster, “just” means: right or fair; righteousness; well-founded.* In No Future Without Forgiveness, Archbishop Desmond Tutu clarifies between two different types of justice: retributive justice and restorative justice. He encourages South Africa to pursue restorative justice where, “In the spirit of ubuntu, the central concern is the healing of breaches, the redressing of imbalances, the restoration of broken relationships, a seeking to rehabilitate both the victim and the perpetrator…” (54). Tutu’s idea of the goal of restorative justice, to create balance between humans, falls in line with Jesus’ call in the Beatitudes for us to pursue righteousness and be merciful. As Christians, we should pursue restorative justice. We are actively pursuing restorative justice, according to Tutu, when “…efforts are being made to work for healing, for forgiving, and for reconciliation” (55). We should seek justice today to help heal the pain caused by the injustice of yesterday and stifle the injustice of tomorrow.
Although, in South Africa, injustice began well before the Apartheid government, the Apartheid government seized the occurring racism and maximized the injustice against non-white, particularly black, for the white people’s benefit. In Bring Me My Machine Gun, Alan Russell explains the unfair redistribution of land, stating: “In the stroke of the pen, about 75 percent of South Africa’s population was relegated to about 13 percent of its territory” (182). When the Apartheid government started writing laws separating people based on skin color in the late 1940s and early 1950s, the government included a law that redistributed the land so that white people owned the majority of land and forced blacks to live on small pieces of land. Russell asserts that, “Under white rule three-quarters of the land was in the hands of the white minority” (189). Even though 25 percent of the land changed hands to the black government when apartheid ended in 1994, the majority of land continues to be owned by the white minority. Although the government continues to buy back land from willing white farmers, the process is moving slowly. Symbolically, the minority of whites still owning the majority of land argues against the end of opportunity based on race. However, the shadow of the chaos in Zimbabwe reminds South Africans to be patient. Yet, the end of the Apartheid’s injustice continues to affect South Africans without an end in sight.
My host mom states that they still need justice in South Africa. My host sister says that their will never be justice in South Africa. My host mom holds that justice will only occur when all South Africans are colored, for then they will have the same colored skin. I pray that skin color will not stop us for seeing all people as our neighbors to love and to strive for justice for all.
I am a white American from a privileged background. Who am I to speak about justice? Yet, through living in post-apartheid South Africa, I more clearly see the injustice in my own country, the US. Will anyone read this essay who is not white? Why can I only name a handful of friends in the US who are not white? How can I denounce the oppression in South Africa while I reap the benefits of my country killing the native people or moving them onto small reservations? Can I argue that our society is not racially segregated? How do I perpetrate, or at least ignorantly allow, injustice?
In the Sermon on the Mount in the gospel of Matthew, Jesus encourages his followers to care for everyone, particularly the marginalized in society. The Beatitudes stress that in the end, the world’s standards stand as contrary to God’s guidance. Jesus tells us, His followers, to pursue justice. Although life on earth may seem a lot easier if we just keep to our own business, Jesus actively cares for the marginalized in society, and, as his hands and feet in the world, so should we. In the inspiring and fantastic book, God Has a Dream, Desmond Tutu poignantly points out: “Can you imagine what would happen in this world if we accepted that fact about ourselves-that whether we like it or not we are members of one family?” (22). May we walk side by side with all of our brothers and sisters in Christ.
Heavenly Father, so often we loose ourselves in the rhythm of life and forget to live compassionately. Help us to see and act against the injustice in our society hand in hand with our brothers and sisters in Christ. Amen
Monday, November 30, 2009
October Events
- Received Diwali cookies from Indian neighbors
- Visited Rorke’s Drift, a Lutheran sponsored arts and crafts center, particularly famous for art produced during the apartheid. Kristen, a fellow volunteer, and I accidentally toured the nearby battlefield. We transferred among six taxis to arrive at Umpumulo.
- Traveled to the coastal cities of Stanger and Ballito
- Attended a teachers’ union meeting
- Attended Lutheran Diocesan Dean’s Meeting and a Lutheran Choir Festival at Umpumulo, where the regional bishop lives
- Worshiped at the Diocesan Rally with about 4,000 Lutherans
- Visited Rorke’s Drift, a Lutheran sponsored arts and crafts center, particularly famous for art produced during the apartheid. Kristen, a fellow volunteer, and I accidentally toured the nearby battlefield. We transferred among six taxis to arrive at Umpumulo.
- Traveled to the coastal cities of Stanger and Ballito
- Attended a teachers’ union meeting
- Attended Lutheran Diocesan Dean’s Meeting and a Lutheran Choir Festival at Umpumulo, where the regional bishop lives
- Worshiped at the Diocesan Rally with about 4,000 Lutherans
A Word in isiZulu: -zulu
Translation*: -zulu (i- ama-) (n) heaven; sky; weather; climate; rain;
lightning.
-Zulu (u-) (n) Zulu nation.
-zulu (isi-) (n) Zulu language; Zulu habit or custom; zulu manner
or life.
-Zulu (um- ama-) (n) member of the Zulu race.
Grammar: -zulu is the stem of the verb, which gives the meaning,
and the prefix slightly alters the meaning.
Comments: Basically, I live in heaven with people of heaven
surrounded by a heavenly way of life.
* “-zulu” and “-Zulu.” Scholar’s Zulu Dictionary. 3rd ed. Compiled by G. R. Dent and C. L. S.
Nyembezi. Pietermaritzburg: Shuter & Shooter Publishers (Pty) Ltd., 1969.
lightning.
-Zulu (u-) (n) Zulu nation.
-zulu (isi-) (n) Zulu language; Zulu habit or custom; zulu manner
or life.
-Zulu (um- ama-) (n) member of the Zulu race.
Grammar: -zulu is the stem of the verb, which gives the meaning,
and the prefix slightly alters the meaning.
Comments: Basically, I live in heaven with people of heaven
surrounded by a heavenly way of life.
* “-zulu” and “-Zulu.” Scholar’s Zulu Dictionary. 3rd ed. Compiled by G. R. Dent and C. L. S.
Nyembezi. Pietermaritzburg: Shuter & Shooter Publishers (Pty) Ltd., 1969.
Snapshots
*The goal of the snapshots section is to give you verbal pictures of my experiences in and perceptions of South Africa, which are limited and not representative of South Africa as a whole, just as my experiences in and perceptions of the US do not represent all of the US.
South Africa:
- Even though two Lutheran churches exist, based primarily on race differences, only one Lutheran Seminary exists where citizens of South Africa and other southern African countries attend
- The Lutheran church has different leagues for men, women, Sunday School, youth, young adults, and music, and members often wear their league uniform to church
- The structure of my Lutheran church has five layers
- An offering is taken specifically for communion costs
- On South Africa’s reality TV show, “Big Brother”, participants, from all over Africa, must speak in English
KwaZulu-Natal:
- Zulus use the same numbers as in English, which helps me find the scripture readings
- People often call the US, America
- People often react positively to hearing I’m from the US
My Community:
- Life here is similar to home: people wear Western clothes, have indoor plumbing and electricity, and, in my home, eat cereal, granola, and/or oatmeal for breakfast
- My community, Cool Air, was zoned for Indians prior to the end of the apartheid, so approximately one half of the population is Indian, most of the rest are Zulus, with a few other native tribes of South Africa, and a few coloreds (mixed race); I am the only Caucasian living in Cool Air
- Due to Cool Air’s mixed community, people often use English to communicate, most Indians speak English in their homes, and most people’s English is very good
- My sisters attend a school that primarily teaches in English
- My host family in Cool Air drives nicer cars than my family
- My host family irons their clothes everyday
- People more often throw wrappers on the ground
- People keep their houses very clean
- Children are nice to and friendly with me
- My host family knows no one in Cool Air who has the Internet capacity to send a file as large as this newsletter
Personal:
- I finished Desmond Tutu’s No Future Without Forgiveness
- I laughed and cried while watching “Blood Diamond”
- Most people who guess my age think I’m 16 or 17
- Almost daily, I run with my three younger host sisters and three young neighbors
- I created a schedule for myself at school so that teachers may sign up to have me teach in their class
- I eat curry fairly regularly
- A tapestry of Nelson Mandela hangs in my living room
South Africa:
- Even though two Lutheran churches exist, based primarily on race differences, only one Lutheran Seminary exists where citizens of South Africa and other southern African countries attend
- The Lutheran church has different leagues for men, women, Sunday School, youth, young adults, and music, and members often wear their league uniform to church
- The structure of my Lutheran church has five layers
- An offering is taken specifically for communion costs
- On South Africa’s reality TV show, “Big Brother”, participants, from all over Africa, must speak in English
KwaZulu-Natal:
- Zulus use the same numbers as in English, which helps me find the scripture readings
- People often call the US, America
- People often react positively to hearing I’m from the US
My Community:
- Life here is similar to home: people wear Western clothes, have indoor plumbing and electricity, and, in my home, eat cereal, granola, and/or oatmeal for breakfast
- My community, Cool Air, was zoned for Indians prior to the end of the apartheid, so approximately one half of the population is Indian, most of the rest are Zulus, with a few other native tribes of South Africa, and a few coloreds (mixed race); I am the only Caucasian living in Cool Air
- Due to Cool Air’s mixed community, people often use English to communicate, most Indians speak English in their homes, and most people’s English is very good
- My sisters attend a school that primarily teaches in English
- My host family in Cool Air drives nicer cars than my family
- My host family irons their clothes everyday
- People more often throw wrappers on the ground
- People keep their houses very clean
- Children are nice to and friendly with me
- My host family knows no one in Cool Air who has the Internet capacity to send a file as large as this newsletter
Personal:
- I finished Desmond Tutu’s No Future Without Forgiveness
- I laughed and cried while watching “Blood Diamond”
- Most people who guess my age think I’m 16 or 17
- Almost daily, I run with my three younger host sisters and three young neighbors
- I created a schedule for myself at school so that teachers may sign up to have me teach in their class
- I eat curry fairly regularly
- A tapestry of Nelson Mandela hangs in my living room
An Experience of isiZulu (Heaven)
A candle goes out. A cell phone turns on. The complexities of a modern, traditional, Zulu ceremony astound me. Zu and her ceremony party of three girls prepare for their initiation service by putting on clothing that will be symbolically burned. Nombulelo takes my hand and leads me into the new, cylindrical hut. (I was told by U.S.ers to call huts, dwellings, but my host sisters bemusedly asked why not call them what they are.) Over one hundred singing people line the walls of the hut. As the only non-Zulu in the hut, I feel honored, particularly because Nombulelo (Nombz) and I sit next to the ceremony party.
The ceremony begins as a great-uncle talks with the ancestors while male family and the goat to be slaughtered look on. Next, female elders cover Zu’s party of three girls and herself with special mud by candlelight as a sign of purity. After they wrap themselves in blankets, Nombz grabs my hand and leads me out of the hut. During the day, I had expressed interest in seeing a goat slaughtered, for I had never witnessed the slaughtering of an animal before. As we walk to another hut, Nombz explains that a few men are about to kill the goat. After entering the candle lit room, I put my arm around Nombz as five men hold the goat down and, finally, slit the goat’s throat. I hear a gurgling sound as the goat’s blood spills into a basin. Within a minute, I find myself holding the candle by which they would carve the goat. I sit on a table above the goat and lean over, trying to hold the candle in the best spot for all to see. After a half hour and a few drops of blood on my skin later, the men are finished. Although, as an American, I am not used to watching animals slaughtered, I feel fascinated by taking part in how my food is prepared.
Nombz and I reenter the hut to men taking turns performing a traditional dance step, where a person lifts one leg as high as they can and then slams the foot down on the ground. After cheering for the spontaneous performers, two of Zu’s cousin’s start teaching the dances in a circle that will be performed one week later at the main ceremony. I watch a few of the dances, and after some encouragement, I, too, try to dance the Zulu dances. The rhythmic dancing is therapeutic.
At about eleven, the cooked goat and steamed bread were brought into the hut and divided into four large portions for the men, boys, women and girls. After talking to a few girls, one of them turns to me, saying: “These girls be loving you, Ms. Kate.” The celebration had only begun, but I left mesmerized by the rich Zulu culture, the strong Zulu community, and a beautiful celebration.
The ceremony begins as a great-uncle talks with the ancestors while male family and the goat to be slaughtered look on. Next, female elders cover Zu’s party of three girls and herself with special mud by candlelight as a sign of purity. After they wrap themselves in blankets, Nombz grabs my hand and leads me out of the hut. During the day, I had expressed interest in seeing a goat slaughtered, for I had never witnessed the slaughtering of an animal before. As we walk to another hut, Nombz explains that a few men are about to kill the goat. After entering the candle lit room, I put my arm around Nombz as five men hold the goat down and, finally, slit the goat’s throat. I hear a gurgling sound as the goat’s blood spills into a basin. Within a minute, I find myself holding the candle by which they would carve the goat. I sit on a table above the goat and lean over, trying to hold the candle in the best spot for all to see. After a half hour and a few drops of blood on my skin later, the men are finished. Although, as an American, I am not used to watching animals slaughtered, I feel fascinated by taking part in how my food is prepared.
Nombz and I reenter the hut to men taking turns performing a traditional dance step, where a person lifts one leg as high as they can and then slams the foot down on the ground. After cheering for the spontaneous performers, two of Zu’s cousin’s start teaching the dances in a circle that will be performed one week later at the main ceremony. I watch a few of the dances, and after some encouragement, I, too, try to dance the Zulu dances. The rhythmic dancing is therapeutic.
At about eleven, the cooked goat and steamed bread were brought into the hut and divided into four large portions for the men, boys, women and girls. After talking to a few girls, one of them turns to me, saying: “These girls be loving you, Ms. Kate.” The celebration had only begun, but I left mesmerized by the rich Zulu culture, the strong Zulu community, and a beautiful celebration.
A Spiritual Word: Service
“So if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I have set you an example; that you also should do as I have done to you.” John 13:14-15
Jesus serves his disciples by washing their feet in John 13. This is my favorite chapter in the Bible because Jesus demonstrates the boundless nature of God’s love and asks us to do the same. We should serve one another. At Zuziwe’s celebration, the female relatives astound me with the extent of their service.
I roll over in my sleeping bag; I open my eyes enough to see a woman taking a bath in a basin. A while later, I rustle in my sleep again while another woman bathes in my room. I am a very heavy sleeper, barely conscious when I first wake up, and my eyesight is poor without glasses or contacts, so I am in no way negatively impacted by these experiences. Finally, after seeing so many people moving, I decide I should get ready for the day. After cleaning myself up, I glance at my cell phone clock; the time is barely after 6. How and why is everyone already up?
I look out the door of my host family’s home on Gogo’s (grandma on my host dad’s side) property to see everyone hard at work on the day of Zuziwe’s ceremony. By everyone, I mean my host family, Gogo, Gogo’s children and grandchildren (most of who live on the same property as Gogo), other distant relatives, and close family friends. In the kitchen, which is its own building, women prepare bath water on the stove, wash dishes, and prepare tea. Outside, young men and a woman, under the direction of male relatives, set up the second tent. Women also prepare food in the kitchen of my host family’s house. Countless tasks keep devoted servants busy all morning, from cooking and cleaning to decorating the tents.
Slie is the personification of a servant. Slie is Zuziwe’s (Zu’s) older cousin. The week before Zu’s celebration, Slie stayed at our home, preparing for Zu’s celebration. She sewed 200 seat covers, sewed beads on shoes and skirts, helped around the house, and braided extensions into family members’ hair. She baked the delectable muffins and scones for the celebration day. On celebration day, Slie kept everything together. When I did not
know what to do, or what was going on, I asked Slie. Slie was in charge of decorating the tent and all the behind the scenes work. She, literally, is the keeper of the keys. The cost of Slie’s service: priceless. Literally, the cost of Slie’s service: nothing. She serves because she is family. Slie is my hero.
Family members work from sunrise to the beginning of the celebration at noon. Yet, they do not stop working then. When I return from the celebration ceremony, the women are hard at work in the kitchen. The women seem not to stop.
My celebration point of reference for the day is a typical American wedding: over 100 guests (about 400 in this case), a ceremony, a meal reception, and dancing. Okay, so maybe the amount of animal hides and outfits differ a bit. Yet, I had anticipated that the front tables in each tent would be occupied by the ceremony party and close family members, not random guests, as it turns out. Rather, family members ensure the meal runs smoothly by running food and washing dishes. At first the role of their family members confuses me. At American weddings that I’ve attended, extended family members participate in all facets of the celebration and people are hired to prepare the celebratory spaces, provide music, and cater the food and drink. Once the ceremony starts, it seems that the family members are mostly hands off as far as running the event. Yet, at this Zulu ceremony, the family members provide the hands. This is not to say that one way of carrying out ceremonies is correct. Personally, if a ceremony is ever held in my honor, I would want my family to participate in the event. Yet, the female relatives at this ceremony work with such diligence and care that I am in awe. They give of themselves for a successful celebration in honor of Zuziwe.
In John 13, Jesus washes the disciples’ feet and tells his disciples to do likewise. At Zuziwe’s celebration, the women symbolically wash the feet of Zuziwe and all who enjoy the festivities. These women demonstrate the selfless nature of service.
Lord, May we serve as you serve us. Help us to remember how you selflessly gave your life for each of our lives. May we give of our selves as you teach us in order to give glory to you. Amen
Jesus serves his disciples by washing their feet in John 13. This is my favorite chapter in the Bible because Jesus demonstrates the boundless nature of God’s love and asks us to do the same. We should serve one another. At Zuziwe’s celebration, the female relatives astound me with the extent of their service.
I roll over in my sleeping bag; I open my eyes enough to see a woman taking a bath in a basin. A while later, I rustle in my sleep again while another woman bathes in my room. I am a very heavy sleeper, barely conscious when I first wake up, and my eyesight is poor without glasses or contacts, so I am in no way negatively impacted by these experiences. Finally, after seeing so many people moving, I decide I should get ready for the day. After cleaning myself up, I glance at my cell phone clock; the time is barely after 6. How and why is everyone already up?
I look out the door of my host family’s home on Gogo’s (grandma on my host dad’s side) property to see everyone hard at work on the day of Zuziwe’s ceremony. By everyone, I mean my host family, Gogo, Gogo’s children and grandchildren (most of who live on the same property as Gogo), other distant relatives, and close family friends. In the kitchen, which is its own building, women prepare bath water on the stove, wash dishes, and prepare tea. Outside, young men and a woman, under the direction of male relatives, set up the second tent. Women also prepare food in the kitchen of my host family’s house. Countless tasks keep devoted servants busy all morning, from cooking and cleaning to decorating the tents.
Slie is the personification of a servant. Slie is Zuziwe’s (Zu’s) older cousin. The week before Zu’s celebration, Slie stayed at our home, preparing for Zu’s celebration. She sewed 200 seat covers, sewed beads on shoes and skirts, helped around the house, and braided extensions into family members’ hair. She baked the delectable muffins and scones for the celebration day. On celebration day, Slie kept everything together. When I did not
know what to do, or what was going on, I asked Slie. Slie was in charge of decorating the tent and all the behind the scenes work. She, literally, is the keeper of the keys. The cost of Slie’s service: priceless. Literally, the cost of Slie’s service: nothing. She serves because she is family. Slie is my hero.
Family members work from sunrise to the beginning of the celebration at noon. Yet, they do not stop working then. When I return from the celebration ceremony, the women are hard at work in the kitchen. The women seem not to stop.
My celebration point of reference for the day is a typical American wedding: over 100 guests (about 400 in this case), a ceremony, a meal reception, and dancing. Okay, so maybe the amount of animal hides and outfits differ a bit. Yet, I had anticipated that the front tables in each tent would be occupied by the ceremony party and close family members, not random guests, as it turns out. Rather, family members ensure the meal runs smoothly by running food and washing dishes. At first the role of their family members confuses me. At American weddings that I’ve attended, extended family members participate in all facets of the celebration and people are hired to prepare the celebratory spaces, provide music, and cater the food and drink. Once the ceremony starts, it seems that the family members are mostly hands off as far as running the event. Yet, at this Zulu ceremony, the family members provide the hands. This is not to say that one way of carrying out ceremonies is correct. Personally, if a ceremony is ever held in my honor, I would want my family to participate in the event. Yet, the female relatives at this ceremony work with such diligence and care that I am in awe. They give of themselves for a successful celebration in honor of Zuziwe.
In John 13, Jesus washes the disciples’ feet and tells his disciples to do likewise. At Zuziwe’s celebration, the women symbolically wash the feet of Zuziwe and all who enjoy the festivities. These women demonstrate the selfless nature of service.
Lord, May we serve as you serve us. Help us to remember how you selflessly gave your life for each of our lives. May we give of our selves as you teach us in order to give glory to you. Amen
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Initial Observations About My Inherent Privilege
I was born a white American. Although I had no control over my birth country or race, I received inherent privilege based on these characteristics. When I learned about my placement for the next year, I was told that my presence in Dalton, my new home, was already a success, that I did not have to do anything. Did that reassure and comfort me? Actually, I felt uncomfortable. In a town of 1,000 people, with few, if any, white people, I would be successful, not based on how I treated others, but solely if I lived with the people for one year.
In Cool Air, I sometimes feel like a celebrity when I walk down the streets. Let’s say there are different degrees to which someone sticks out (thank you philosophy major for this theory… just kidding!). The different degrees to which people discern a person sticks out are: degree one, by peripheral vision; degree two, by staring at you for one second; degree three, by analyzing your appearance; and, degree four, by interacting with you. In Cool Air, I am definitely am a degree one stick out; people can tell I am from somewhere else by their peripheral vision. When I walk around Cool Air some people look at me, some greet my host sisters and me, and one boy yelled across a parking lot that he loved me without speaking to me face-to-face, which my sisters thought was ridiculous. The students at my primary school greet me: “Hello Ms. Kate!” Nombulelo told me that a white person from Pietermaritzburg, the regional capital, or a black American would not receive the same attention as me, a white American.
At first, I did not know exactly how to respond to the attention I was receiving based on characteristics I could not control. I did not want to take advantage of my unfair privilege. I would return greetings, just not attempt to initiate greetings, which is unnatural for me. However, after feeling uncomfortable while walking around a few times, I realized that being kind to one another is how people should treat one another, no matter their motivations. I cannot change my race or country of birth, but I can determine how I react to related attention. Hopefully, my interactions over the next year will be determined primarily as interactions between human beings, who I understand to be beautiful children of God.
In Cool Air, I sometimes feel like a celebrity when I walk down the streets. Let’s say there are different degrees to which someone sticks out (thank you philosophy major for this theory… just kidding!). The different degrees to which people discern a person sticks out are: degree one, by peripheral vision; degree two, by staring at you for one second; degree three, by analyzing your appearance; and, degree four, by interacting with you. In Cool Air, I am definitely am a degree one stick out; people can tell I am from somewhere else by their peripheral vision. When I walk around Cool Air some people look at me, some greet my host sisters and me, and one boy yelled across a parking lot that he loved me without speaking to me face-to-face, which my sisters thought was ridiculous. The students at my primary school greet me: “Hello Ms. Kate!” Nombulelo told me that a white person from Pietermaritzburg, the regional capital, or a black American would not receive the same attention as me, a white American.
At first, I did not know exactly how to respond to the attention I was receiving based on characteristics I could not control. I did not want to take advantage of my unfair privilege. I would return greetings, just not attempt to initiate greetings, which is unnatural for me. However, after feeling uncomfortable while walking around a few times, I realized that being kind to one another is how people should treat one another, no matter their motivations. I cannot change my race or country of birth, but I can determine how I react to related attention. Hopefully, my interactions over the next year will be determined primarily as interactions between human beings, who I understand to be beautiful children of God.
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