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.

Looking Back

I just arrived home after a twenty-something hour long plane flight from cape town to Joburg to Atlanta to Dallas. Here are a few photos to enjoy while I recuperate.

My Family (Home Away from Home)

Greg & I on Table Mt.

Zimbabwean Friends at the Refugee Center


My Kiddos (the Youth I worked with in Cape Town)

blessed are the peacemakers

Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called sons of God. – Matthew 5:9

“Put your sword back in its place.” Jesus said to him, “for all who draw the sword will die by the sword. Do you think I cannot call on my Father, and he will at once put at my disposal more than twelve legions of angels? But this has all taken place that the writings of the prophets might be fulfilled.” – Matthew 26.52-53, 56

Ever since arriving in Cape Town and getting to know the Zimbabweans living in the church hall in Obz, I’ve been trying to do what I can to keep up with the recent news about Mugabe and the situation in Zim. Thinking about the horrors that have been committed and about Desmond Tutu’s declaration that it is time for the international community to do something about Mugabe, I can’t help but feel conflicted. I can’t help but question my non-violent idealism. What decision would I make if I could use violence to take this ‘president’ or his hatchet men out of power? Would I choose to follow Niebuhr? Bonhoeffer? or Gandhi? Would I act like Peter who is all too quick to draw his sword? Or is this situation different because there is no scripture to be fulfilled, because I am called to defend the orphan and the widow?

I am undoubtedly called to the role of a peacemaker. We all are. But does peacemaking preclude force for the sake of the suffering? Is the price of setting a violent precedent too great? I’m unsure about the most faithful action. In my idealism, I want to believe that by confronting violence with overwhelming love and (in Sam Well’s terms) over-acceptance, by acting as Gandhi did, we might usher in the alternative kingdom and break the cycle of violence. Yet when I sit with my friends and hear their stories, I can’t help but doubt the truth of these convictions. Is this enough? What if nothing changes? Am I not responsible for these deaths? Am I not responsible for simply standing by?

I sense this tension especially as I sit here in South Africa or in North Carolina and not in Zimbabwe. If the answer is non-violent resistance, then I must be the one to go. I must be willing to give my life, not merely espouse a grand theory, expecting others to follow through with action. Yet, I wonder, am I willing to go? And, if not, is this option false and hollow?

What is faithfulness? What is it that Christ is calling us to do in the face of utter disregard for human life? The world cannot stand by and watch. Now is the time for action. Now is the time. But what action are we to take?

I struggle to gain clarity. I am afraid to act and afraid not to. God, grant us the grace to know the right and holy way to face this situation. And forgive us, Lord, for our fumbling ways. We know not what we do. Amen.

Finding Our Way

I arrived back in Cape Town three days ago from a short trip to Durban to find my friends at the refugee center were leaving the following morning. I was completely blindsided by this news. I had assumed that the last part of my time in South Africa would be similar to the first. Apparently, SHADE felt it best to ask the 30 remaining refugees who were still living in the church hall to reintegrate / repatriate.

This is difficult for me. Not only because I feel that some were not yet ready to reintegrate, but also - and perhaps more overwhelmingly - because I will miss them... deeply. They have been the heart and soul of my experience here. Though I encountered some challenges in the midst of these relationships, I also found great joy when I was with them. I met God in their hope, in their laughter, in the way they accepted and encouraged me.

My experience in South Africa wouldn't have been the least bit as rich without them. And so for the gift of these relationships, I am eternally grateful.

From here on out, I'll be working on SHADE's normal programing, which includes a camp for at risk youth, putting together training material for the satellite projects, and SHADE's 10 year magazine.

Time continues to fly by. And I know that I'll be back in the States far too soon. South Africa has been a beautiful experience thus far and I am incredibly grateful for all of your encouragement and support. You all have truly blessed me by enabling me to be here, to experience God in this way.

I love you all,
- jess


p.s. This is a piece of newspaper propaganda from The Herald - the only newspaper allowed to be in Zimbabwe at the moment. The other newspaper was bombed five times and finally closed down. It's interesting to read the way that Mugabe and his men are spinning the situation. Thought you might enjoy to take a look.

ALSO PHOTOS!!!!
I got the chance to see Mbeki speak / Meet and have breakfast with Desmond Tutu the other day! Ridiculous. I know.

Daily Bread

“Tragedy, no matter how sad, becomes boring to those not caught in its addictive caress.” – Maya Angelou, All God’s Children Need Traveling Shoes

These past few weeks have been somewhat sobering as the once abundant flood of donations have slowed to a trickle. Every time I call a church to assess their needs the response remains the same. “We need bread,” they answer.

Yesterday ten loafs were delivered to the office for distribution and we were elated. Something as simple as a loaf of bread, six rand, less than a dollar - this is a basic of life that is mixed, kneaded, and baked into sun light and the smell of grandma’s kitchen. This is what we find coming up short within a few weeks following this terrible tragedy that has torn apart dreams and left thousands homeless.

Why are we – who are not caught in the addictive caress of tragedy – so quick to tired? Why are we so ready to return to the hum drum of weak morning coffee, traffic, cubicles, computers, more traffic, and TV dinners? Amazingly, I see this tendency not only in volunteers and donors, but in the SHADE administration as well.

Monday’s meeting – three weeks following the xenophobic violence in Cape Town – Mama Tembo looks around the room at the staff perched on the edge of their seats, waiting for a word from the General. “It is time to return to normal SHADE programming,” she said. Normal SHADE programming? I was disturbed by the idea of returning to programming that had been planned months earlier, before the attacks - to the youth camp, women’s conferences, and worksheets on how to stop a bully - when hundreds of Zimbabweans were still sleeping on the floor of a church hall. It seemed so offensive that we could or believed that we should move on with life as normal. But since I am only an intern, little more than a volunteer, I kept my mouth shut.

Since that meeting I’ve tried to both finish so-called normal programming tasks as well as spend several nights a week with the refugees. Fifty-one people remain at the shelter and, while the numbers are steadily diminishing, the donations seem to be doing the same – but at a far higher rate.

I once heard this phenomenon termed ‘volunteer burnout.’ I was told that people simply can’t sustain such a high level of emotional intensity for long. Understandable? Certainly. But even if it is understandable, we cannot forget those who do not have the luxury of returning to life as usual. We cannot forget those who find their dreams have been dashed upon the rocks of life and they are left to gather up what pieces remain.

We mustn’t put a time limit upon healing. Some refugees were ready to move back into their communities within a weeks’ time. Others are still afraid to step outside the church hall. Healing is not uniform and it mustn’t be coerced. So, for now, we wait, not until the food runs out, but until people are ready. For now, we pray: Lord, let us not become bored with the tragedy of our sisters and brothers. Instead, as the body of Christ, let us remember that when one member of the body weeps, we all weep. When one member rejoices, our laughter must resound throughout the nations, for we are a witness to the unity found in Christ.

Time To Talk

I wanted to post a few pictures in an attempt to show you the beauty and pain of South Africa that I've had the incredible opportunity to experience. Hope that these photos give you a glimpse into what's happened / is happening over here.

Last night we had a representative of government come and speak with the refugees at the center. It was a hopeful as well as frustrating experience. On the one hand, I'm thankful that the government is at least attempting some form of communication with the victims of these xenophobic attacks. But, on the other hand, I get the sense that these so called 'talks' are an attempt to placate the people. Furthermore, the conversation that REALLY needs to happen is between the perpetrators of this violence and the victims. Yet, for those two groups to truly engage in dialogue God must first enter into the equation and transform hearts.

My friend, Godfreed got it right when he made the comment that the real question is how someone can have so much hatred within them that they are able to kill another human as if they were an animal. "Until that hatred can be addressed," he said, "we aren't safe to reintegrate."

I personally believe that the problem of this sort of violence lies in a misconstrued understanding of identity, of not knowing who we are in Christ and, yet, attempting to establish ourselves by stating, by means of violence, who we are not. Consequently, violence such as this can only cease to be a threat when we rightly understand / accept the identity we are given in Christ, when we rightly accept our divinely gifted identity.

Anyhow, enough of my reflection. Hope you enjoy the photos.

Much love,
jess



Anti-Xenophobia March


Obz Fair with Melody and Rietta


Cooking Crew at Obz Methodist Church (Refugee Center)

Learning to Breathe

After the Xenophobic attacks began last week, many of the non-profits have been working around the clock to house and meet the needs of over 20 thousand newly displaced people, forced to flee their homes after having lost everything.

I suppose God planned my trip here perfectly, seeing as I arrived the day of the attacks in Joburg. Whenever I tell people that I’ve only be in South Africa for eight days, they laugh and say something along the lines of, “perfect timing, eh?” And I think they’re right. God’s timing is perfect.

Since arriving, everything has happened in a whirlwind fashion. The second day in town, I received a phone call from someone at SHADE, the organization I’m currently working with, asking the other intern and I to head up to a Methodist Church in Observatory in order to receive a flood of refugees. Since that time, I’ve been had the incredible opportunity to get to know a hundred something people from Zimbabwe who currently live at the refugee center. Amazingly, the center is – more or less – run by the people who live there, with limited aid from volunteers.

Over the past week, I’ve seen and learned so much. In one moment I’ve witnessed the desperation and discouragement of volunteers who are heart-broken at the situation of so many people facing utter starvation and joblessness and, the next, a donation of 200 ready meals come in. I’ve held children from Zimbabwe who call me Auntie and ask to come home with me. I’ve preached to a room full of displaced people about the truth of God’s presence, of how God is with us still, and how it is God who wipes every tear from their eyes. I’ve sat at rallies, listening to South Africans cry out, “Never again.” And I’ve seen people who have been beaten down, rise up again with incredible dignity and grace.

Honestly, I’m not really sure what to do with all of this, nor do I know how God wants to transform me by this experience. But what I do know is that God is faithful and that I am here in South Africa and, more specifically, here in Cape Town for a reason. I know that, by the grace of God, I will be used for God’s glory. And I know that I must hold on to the hope that even in the face of chaos, brokenness, and violence, the peace and power of our God is present, drawing us up out of the dirt, binding up our wounds, and carrying us into a place of safety.

Pray with me, friends, for the wisdom of all leaders in South Africa, for my own health and sanity, and for my willingness to let God use and teach me through this process.

I love all of you, dearly. And look forward to seeing you again.

- jess