Looking Back

This past summer in Cape Town could very well be one of the most formative experiences of my life. It was in South Africa that I stepped out of my privileged, American context and entered into another people’s reality, a reality alien to my own. As I said in a previous reflection, those who were not my people became my people. Those who were once strangers became my brothers, sisters, mothers, and fathers. Consequently, it was difficult to leave, difficult to say goodbye to a people who so willingly adopted me into their family.

But in many ways this time away from the academic world was important, maybe even necessary to confirm my call to teach. For some time I've been wrestling with the question of faithfulness - is it more faithful to live in the township than in the ivory town?

Before leaving for S. Africa I was quite convinced that the most important and influential ministry was that of holy presence, of holding the hand of the hurting in the midst of their pain. And I was troubled by the reality that people whom I respected, people who had dedicated a large part of their lives to live with the marginalized of society, found it acceptable to leave the inner-city context later in their life. This troubled me because it seemed that if something was right, truly right, then it would continue to be right regardless of one’s stage in life or particular situation. Yet, in this respect, I believe I was mistaken.

While holding the hand of the hurting remains, in my mind, a necessary aspect of the Christian embodiment of the gospel, I now recognize the scriptural truth that some are to sow and some are to reap; some are to live in the townships of South Africa and some are to teach those who will one day live in those townships. We all have different parts to play within the body of Christ. As for me, my heart’s desire is to instill within others a passion for those who are all too often overlooked and pushed aside by society at large, those who are deemed worthy of being used and thrown away, those who find themselves at the bottom of society’s frantic climb to the top.

This conclusion in no way exempts me from experiencing the tension between my desire to be with the world’s disenfranchised and my draw toward a life in academia. The draw of these two realms will, in all likelihood, be constant throughout my life. Yet, perhaps, this is how it should be, for the tension ensures that I never forget the people on behalf of whom I have been charged to speak. The tension ensures that I continue to engage the world. What is the purpose of studying and teaching theology if it has no impact upon the Church? What is the purpose of doctorate degrees and academic achievement if it makes no difference in the lives of God’s people? Surely, it is all vanity if not for the greater purpose of God’s Kingdom.

Looking back on my nine weeks in South Africa, I’m left with a mixture of emotions - sadness at leaving such a wounded yet beautifully hopeful people, excitement as I look toward the unfolding of the life into which God has called me, and thankfulness that our God, who parted seas and provided manna to God’s people, continues to prove present and faithful today.