Buried Alive

The diversity of Cape Town is perpetually praised. Honetly, the diversity seems more like disparity than anything else. I can run straight up the mountain from Main Road and within one kilometre I pass from the abject poverty of homelessness, drugs, alcoholism, and gang-ridden streets to posh, white, 20 room homes that blend in well possibly in Grenwich or Palo Alto. Every day I am forced to deal with this -- and wonder how it is possible that the people on top of the mountain food chain proudly call themselves Christians -- then i think -- oh yeah, I come from an entire country where its not only acceptable but encouraged. I frequently encounter Christ -- on the Main Road and amongst the animals and ecology of the sparsely-populated mountain trails -- but seldom do we encounter Christ amongst the self-proclaimed Christians on the top. I thought Africa would be different -- I'm beginning to see America everywhere -- and not what I like about America. Not surprisingly, I have been reassured through several Congolese children that "theirs is indeed the kingdom."

What I cherish about the Woodstock church with whom I most frequently work is the genuine diversity. People appear in about every shade of black to white possible. And furthermore, the members really don’t seem to care that much what pigment you may have—this is evident with the members’ ability to joke about race without the fear of offending someone anyone. If you want to speak about a black, colored, or white person, it’s fine to say black, colored, or white. I am continually asked how in the world black (or some people say brown) Americans can insist on being called African-Americans. On one occasion the gentlemen was incensed about the matter. I think I reassured him that no intentional harm was meant towards the entire continent of Africa – which seemed to be a legitimate concern to him!

One of my favourite parts of Sunday morning worship at Woodstock is the time of greeting. Right in the middle of the service we all pause to greet one another – and I do mean all. Not until every member has properly kissed, hugged, and embraced every other person does anyone sit down. Rev. Greg does not attempt to hush or prematurely seat everyone; instead, he smiles and joins the community in embracing one another. There are few ways to break down barriers of race faster than hugging a stranger and kissing their child.

After greeting one another we shared joys and prayer requests. The prayer requests were not what solipsistic prayers I sadly encounter in American Christianity; no, the prayers were for the well-being of OTHERS. Christianity in this congregation seems much more centrifugal (seeking outward) than centripetal (centre seeking). The prayer requests were for Chiwoza, a church member whose bank in Malawi closed and he has the possibility of losing everything. In thankfulness for Tembo on her birthday. For the Government to truly reach out and fund research and health education particularly for HIV/AIDS. For several members who were not even in the service because of sickness. For a Congolese cousin who was driving a recently purchased family car and struck a cow (we even considered if the cow was okay – to lighten the mood).

And most intriguing to me – we praised God for Caroline – who is now alive. Last week Tembo and several Congolese members spent a few days grieving the death of a 20-year-old Zambian girl who was not actually dead. When she was in the morgue freezer, someone heard her moving and got her out 2 days after she was pronounced dead. Yes, African health care is a huge problem. With relief and a sense of expectation we entered into prayer for one another’s concerns. The prayers seemed to be taken seriously and prayed for faithfully.

To end the service we joined our hands and said the benediction. By the end of the service my attention had been transformed from the diversity of races, classes, and nationalities to the needs, prayers, and unwavering faithfulness of the community who has embraced me without hesitation. Acceptance, hospitality, and real forgiveness characterize the best of Africa – this is the center we must all seek – especially those who call ourselves Christians. To be a Christian and refuse to accept, touch, care for, or forgive another created human being is not only blasephemous, its inhumane. We must seek to remember that talking about community is pointless without the gathering of community.

During the afternoon and evening we gathered at Tembo’s house for a large birthday celebration with more meet and Sombee (green stuff I just can’t get used to) than any family could dream of eating.