Sermon for a Confirmation Service for Anglican Schools in Cape Town

 Archbishop Thabo Makgoba

Combined Confirmation Service for Anglican Schools in Cape Town

St Cyprian’s School Chapel, Cape Town

3^rd August 2025

Readings: Hosea 11: 1-11; Psalm 107:1-9, 43; Colossians 3: 1-11; Luke 12: 13-21

May I speak in the name of God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.

Sisters and brothers in Christ, dear people of God, heads of participating schools – our host today, Mrs Shirley Frayne of St Cyprian’s School, Mrs Heather Goedeke of Herschel Girls, Mr Antony Reeler of Diocesan College, Mr Julian Cameron of St George’s Grammar School – also friends and families, educators here present, I am pleased to join you once again this year as we share in this important day in the lives of the confirmation candidates who will be presented during this service.

Let me warmly welcome you all and thank you for the invitation. Most importantly, thanks to the school chaplains – the Revd Andrew Weiss of St Cyprian’s, the Revd Monwabisi Peter of Bishops, and the Revd Lorna Lavello-Smith of Herschel. I also thank you all for the hard work you do in preparing candidates for confirmation. A very warm and special welcome to the parents and godparents of the confirmation candidates, together with those attending this service for the first time.

A big thank you, Revd Andrew, for hosting us in this beautiful chapel which I appreciate so much. Thanks also to you and your team for preparing the service and a brilliant service booklet. It is always a joyous occasion when the schools in our diocese meet and worship together as a family.

As we gather in the presence of God today, we also attest to the special gift with which God, out of His goodness, will bestow you, the confirmation candidates: the outpouring anew of the Holy Spirit into your lives. This is the rite of passage that will help you to practise your faith more effectively and efficiently in every aspect of your existence, deepening your relationship with God and strengthening your spiritual lives.

Our Catechism teaches that the Holy Spirit empowers us for worship, witness, and service. In worship we praise and give reverence to God. In the traditional formulation, we say in the church that this begins with fear of the Lord. We shouldn’t misunderstand what the word “fear” means in this context – it doesn't mean we should shiver in terror before the Lord, rather that we should stand in awe of the Lord. Fearing, or standing in awe of God, is one of the gifts of the Spirit. So, through worship we show respect for and love of God, admiring God with those who have faith and believe in him.

In our first reading today, from the book of the prophet Hosea (11:1-11), we read of God’s response to his people when they turned away from him. In passing judgement on them, God was not punishing a sinful nation but was agonising over a people on whom he had settled his inheritance, meaning that God poured out special blessings on Israel – Israel in this context meaning the people of God as described in the Old Testament, not the modern secular state. It was tragic if you think of it; when they were a young people, God heard their cries of suffering, and delivered them from the bondage of the Pharoah in Egypt. The Lord led them with love and understanding rather than driving them with whips. Hosea says that ‘they shall not return’ signifying that in spite of their sins, God would not give them the punishment they deserved; he would not reverse His great redemptive act. We see a glimpse of the heart of God in verses 8 and 9, when we see God’s emotions in turmoil, his compassion for his people driving him to cry in anguish, ‘How can I give you up...’

Because, sisters and brothers, just as God met the needs of the people of Israel in bringing them out of harsh bondage, in our own day God knows our condition and cares for us by responding to our cries and our needs. God does not give up on us. God’s unchanging and unchangeable character means God will devise a way of dealing with God’s people. Jesus, the Holy One, came in our midst to seek out the lost sheep of the house of Israel and to give His life as a ransom for many. ‘I will return them to their homes, says the Lord’ (v.11b).

In the Parable of the Rich Fool, the Gospel account we heard today (Luke 12:13ff), Jesus refused to respond to a request from a man in a crowd to decide on a legal issue, which was how someone’s estate should be divided. Instead He went to the root of the matter, giving a stern warning against covetousness, which is the desire to have something belonging to someone else. Jesus’s warning may well have been motivated by personal knowledge of the man in question. Covetousness not only leads to strife but also expresses a fundamentally wrong philosophy of life, one which says possessions are all that really matters.

It’s not news to any of us that money cannot buy everything. It only takes the death of someone on the verge of retirement, with plans to live in comfort and ease for another 10 or 20 years, to make us realise how how useless possessions can be. The rich man in our parable today failed to seek the true riches of a right relationship with God, and so he was a fool, a senseless person.

Thirty years after South Africa’s political liberation, many of us still need to learn that striving merely for material possessions, and especially for material possessions only for ourselves and our families, will not bring stability and peace for our families, our communities and our nation. We can no longer sit back and allow the elites of our society, whether old elites or new elites, simply to reproduce themselves. I have said repeatedly what I think we all know to be true, which is that the daughters and the sons of the well-off tend to get the best opportunities in life, and become well-off themselves, while the daughters and sons of the poor struggle to escape the vicious cycle of deprivation that keeps them poor. Our President has asked me to serve on the group advising the National Dialogue that is about to begin, and although I know many are sceptical, even cynical about what it can and will achieve, the single most important reason I accepted his invitation is my belief that if we don’t fundamentally reform our economy to give better opportunities to the poor, we may as well pack up and stay at home. I am not an economist, but I cannot in good conscience sit on my hands in Bishopscourt, sniping at the process from the outside, without arguing my case as strongly as I can.

And while I am on the subject of public advocacy, please allow me to refer to a matter which, as Jeremiah once said, is like a fire burning in my breast, one which compels me to speak out, even if I struggle to find the words to speak as eloquently as God would want me to. The subject is Gaza, Palestine and Israel, which along with the brutal civil war in Sudan, constitutes, I believe, one of the great moral issues of our time. In a city which includes Christians, Muslims and Jews, it is our responsibility to preach sanity to all whose hearts and passions are consumed by the crisis in the land all three faiths call holy. Please, form prayer cells, fast and pray, and advocate wherever you can for an end to starvation as a weapon of war, for an end to hostage taking and the deliberate killing of civilians, for an end to ethnic cleansing and genocide, and for a just peace which guarantees stability and respect for the rights of all.

Now each of you here today might be hesitant to think of yourselves as being up to the challenges I have posed. But our faith tells us that God remains the same, always, and Paul reminds us to set our minds on ‘things that are above and not things that are on earth’ (Colossians 3:2). This does not mean we should ignore the suffering around us; no, it means that we should look to the values which derive from focussing on the higher purposes of our lives and seek to embody them in the practice of our everyday lives. God conceives that Christian life is a constant quest with Christ as a goal, the Christ who died for us and our salvation; the salvation which is represented by the true peace and reconciliation which is achieved through the attainment of justice; and the salvation which will be ours when the kingdoms of this world have become the kingdoms of our Lord and of His Christ. (Rev. 11:15)

So today, as each of you receives the outpouring of the Holy Spirit, I challenge you, and I challenge all learners and parents at our Anglican schools, to open your minds and your hearts to the invitation extended by God. To those of you who will be confirmed today, and to all learners at St Cyprian's, Bishops, Herschel and St George's: it is in times like these in your lives and in the lives of our communities and our country that our destiny is shaped. Destiny is a matter of choice, not of chance, and so I appeal to you, as you embrace Jesus's call to be his disciples, to allow him to shape you and form you in accordance with His will for your lives.

As I conclude, I want to thank all the educators, learners and families who continue to ensure that learning and teaching take place in all our schools. To those who teach, thank you for your dedicated work, you are among the most under-appreciated professionals in our society. Thank you for what you do to help our young people live in harmony with one another, to guide them away from simply fulfilling selfish earthly ambitions.

May you all, learners and educators, be open to the moulding of God who calls you and holds you in his palms like clay, working to perfect you as you seek to follow Christ's example of worship, service, and sacrifice.

Congratulations class of 2025 on your confirmation, and may God bless you, your families, South Africa and the world.

God loves you and so do I. Amen

Reflections on Gaza: A Personal Perspective - by Archbishop Thabo Makgoba

 Reflections on Gaza: A Personal Perspective

Remarks given at the invitation of Churches for Middle East Peace 

Carter Center, Atlanta, USA

30th July 2025

Grace and peace to you, dear friends in Christ, beloved brothers and sisters journeying together in the pursuit of justice and faith. I extend heartfelt greetings from South Africa—a nation marked by profound wounds but also imbued with the grace of resilience and hope. 

Let me acknowledge my four colleagues from South Africa, especially, Bishop Malusi Mpumlwana: Molweni!

I speak not merely as a citizen, but as one who has grown up navigating life in the harsh shadows cast by apartheid. I hail from a township in Johannesburg, where the concept of freedom was far from a universal right. Instead, it was an elusive dream shrouded by the presence of military patrols, the separation of families, and a daily struggle to uphold human dignity against overwhelming odds. 

Like Naomi Tutu who spoke powerfully last night, I have however also witnessed walls, both physical and metaphorical, tumbling down, and I have seen hearts begin to heal in places where suffering has left deep scars. In the dark era of apartheid South Africa, we were conditioned to believe that our place of birth dictated the trajectory of our lives. It determined not only where we could reside but also whom we could choose to love, and ultimately, whether our existence held any significance at all. Black South Africans faced the grim realities of forced removals from our ancestral lands, being stripped of access to quality education, healthcare, and employment opportunities, all of which should be basic human rights. We were subjected to a substandard education system, policed by unfair laws designed to perpetuate our subjugation, making us feel like outsiders in the land of our forebears. 

I recall vividly the oppressive Group Areas Act that dictated our living spaces, the stringent pass laws that controlled our movement, and the Bantu education system that sought to limit our aspirations. I can still hear the soft echoes of protest songs murmured furtively among us, whispering hope in a world drenched in despair. I remember feeling a constant undercurrent of fear alongside a powerful, unwavering faith that sustained us through the darkest times. Our survival was not purely a testament to our strength; it was a collective endeavour, an endeavour bolstered by one another and guided by our unshakable belief in God. 

In the bleakest moments of apartheid, the church—though it was not always of one mind—emerged as a haven for the downtrodden. It became a resolute voice against injustice. We found ourselves drawing strength and hope from sacred texts, finding parallels in the stories of old. We saw ourselves in Moses confronting Pharaoh, in the prophets decrying Injustice, in Christ who overturned the tables in the temple of greed, and in Paul’s inclusion of all peoples, transcending divisions as he envisioned a church without barriers of ethnicity or status.

As I reflect upon Palestine today, I perceive it not as a distant or foreign site of settler colonial genocide and ethnic cleansing; rather, I see mirrored reflections of familiar pain and suffering. I witness checkpoints that resemble the oppressive pass laws we endured. The home demolitions echo the traumatic forced removals we experienced in Sophiatown in Johannesburg and District Six in Cape Town. The systemic categorisation, pervasive surveillance, and the stripping away of rights based on identity remind me all too vividly of our own history. I see a landscape marred by mass incarceration, the weight of military rule, and the damaging narrative of “security” used as a pretext for ongoing tyranny. I see much more, and worse. 

What can we learn from SA ? 

In almost every way what is happening in the Occupied Palestinian Territories, and particularly in Gaza, is incomparable with what happened under apartheid in South Africa. I don't assume to know what Palestinians want. Hence I take every opportunity to listen to Palestinians. I was changed by a sermon I preached at a Sabeel conference in 2011, to which I was invited by Naim Ateek, under the theme “Challenging Empire”. Many who came to South Africa in the time of apartheid were affected by what they saw and became international champions. Within South Africa, some of the least helpful white people were those who assumed they knew what black South Africans needed/ wanted.

Our peaceful struggle against apartheid benefitted greatly from international advocacy, which has been described as the most successful campaign for justice since that against slavery in the British empire two centuries ago. Internally, we were at our most successful when we united civil society, including NGOS, the religious community and the universities, in broad-based coalitions around mutually agreed objectives which were realistically achievable. 

We needed to learn to compromise, and not splinter into small, ideologically pure groupings. For example, within my church in the 1980s, there was division over endorsing Archbishop Desmond Tutu's call for comprehensive international sanctions against apartheid. Some of our leaders were sensitive to the accusation that comfortable middle-class leaders were advocating job losses for black South Africans. Our bishops compromised by proposing targeted sanctions such as stopping international airlines from flying to South Africa, which didn’t affect poor people but which was of symbolic importance in isolating the apartheid government internationally and boosting the morale of black South Africans. Similarly, sports boycotts and expulsion from the Olympics reinforced the image of South Africa abroad as a country beyond the pale, not to be dealt with by civilised nations.

Internationally, much of the impetus for advocacy against apartheid also came from peaceful protests from civil society, especially from us as university students. Although the ANC was lobbying strongly for sanctions, its adoption of an armed struggle and its support from the Soviet Union gave it little traction in many Western societies. Both Democratic and Republican Senate staff told a Tutu biographer that the Archbishop's stature as a man of peace was an important ingredient in Congress's adoption of sanctions against apartheid in 1986. The sanctions followed an extensive grassroots campaign on campuses and demonstrations of prominent Americans in Washington DC, including sanctions at state level. President Reagan first vetoed the sanctions, but Congress over-rode his veto in the only foreign policy defeat of its kind during his presidency. He pleaded with senators to back him on the grounds that a defeat would weaken his hand ahead of a summit with Mikhail Gorbachev in Iceland, but his plea was to no avail.

Again, the capacity to compromise was important. For many in lobbies such as the Congressional Black Caucus, the sanctions adopted had been watered down too much from those originally proposed, but an important signal was sent when bipartisan action was achieved. The administration of George HW Bush subsequently strengthened Republican opposition to apartheid. In another example of how compromise got results, on a 1989 visit to Washington, local activists were upset when the White House offered a South African church delegation including Desmond Tutu a meeting of only 15 minutes with President Bush at the beginning of his term of office. On the basis that it was an important signal that they were the first South Africans to meet Bush, the delegation refused to treat the offer as a snub and accepted the invitation. They were able to spend the best part of an hour putting their case.

Another lesson from the anti-apartheid experience is to look for allies among other governments who can put pressure on reluctant leaders to take multilateral action. Margaret Thatcher was a vigorous opponent of sanctions, but in the end she isolated herself in the British Commonwealth. Similarly, she and Helmut Kohl of Germany were the last hold-outs in Europe against sanctions.

In retrospect, it is important to recognise that to achieve peaceful change, you need to be in the struggle for the long haul. I know we face a particular crisis in Gaza now, and it needs urgent action, but ultimately a solution for Palestine is going to take time, and will involve constant, sustained effort over many years. The system is not unconquerable. In South Africa when we realised this, and we ultimately overwhelmed the kind of settler colonial system that ends up creating insecurity for all, starving, ethnically cleansing and committing genocide against its victims.

We must now overwhelm the system that upholds Israel with praxis rooted in scripture and prayer, from email/telephone campaigns, to online activism, to massive flotillas, to legal action, to embarrassing Arab regimes, and to tracking down the companies named in the report by Francesca Albanese and exposing them and their board members. I also call on nations to stop the sales of arms to governments and systems that cleanse humans and commit genocide.

Also, dialogue is key: refuse to be intimidated from talking, even with your enemies. Our principal liberation movement spoke to our enemies. 

Reflecting on more recent experiences, one of the advantages we had in South Africa was broad international acceptance that apartheid was simply wrong. Some of you here today at the Carter Center will no doubt have your own experience of the rejection of President Carter's description of certain Israeli policies as being like apartheid. Unless you have experts on South African and Israeli law and practice explain exactly where the systems are similar and dissimilar, it's very difficult to get many in the West to buy into the notion that a form of apartheid is experienced in Israel. It is probably a little easier to convince people when it comes to the Occupied Palestinian Territories.

The use of the word genocide is a similar challenge. For many in the West, the term genocide is automatically associated with the Holocaust, with death camps and the organised murder of six million people. Again addressing this challenge depends on explaining the contents and definitions contained in the Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide adopted by the UN in 1948. 

To conclude I hesitantly offer a few further suggestions:

In Cape Town, we are experiencing tension between Jewish and Muslim communities. This is in spite of the fact that there is general acceptance that there is a distinction between being a Zionist and being Jewish. My suggestion is that we abolish the use of the adjective “Jewish” in debating and considering how to achieve justice and peace in the land three faiths call holy. To conflate being Jewish with support of the policies of any particular Israeli administration is not only inaccurate, but wrong.

Secondly, we in South Africa are very sensitive to the use of the term “terrorist”. White South Africans and Margaret Thatcher used the phrase indiscriminately during the struggle against apartheid. While there are justifications for its use in particular circumstances, it loses its currency when it is used to describe anyone who wants to achieve self-determination in a democratic dispensation.

Perhaps instead of debating labels, we should focus on the details of how individuals, families and communities are treated. In democracies, there is nothing more powerful in addressing injustice and oppression than in demonstrating to citizens how people in other parts of the world who share their humanity are suffering at the hands of the powerful. 

Thank you for giving this opportunity to a pastor from a land distant both from the United States and the Middle East to voice deep distress at the suffering of the people. 

*  *  *  *  *

Statement on the killing of starving Gaza residents

The death toll of Palestinians seeking food at the hands of Israeli troops is staggering.

The Israeli newspaper Haaretz began its editorial comment on July 16 as follows: "Headline after headline: '34 killed near Gaza port, including women and children' (June 30, 2025); '509 killed near Gaza aid distribution centers since late May' (July 4); '80 killed, including eight seeking aid' (July 8); '10 children killed waiting for nutritional supplements in Deir al-Balah' (July 10); '70 dead, including 28 waiting for humanitarian aid' (July 12); and 'Six children killed at water distribution site' (July 13)."

Today, the online edition of Haaretz followed up by reporting the following: "Local health officials in Gaza said on Monday that 27 Palestinians were killed since the break of dawn... On Sunday, at least 85 Palestinians seeking aid were killed in the Gaza Strip, according to local health officials."

And the World Food Programme is reporting that soon after one of its convoys carrying vital food aid entered Gaza yesterday, large crowds of civilians waiting for the food "came under fire from Israeli tanks, snipers and other gunfire." 

The BBC reported today that nearly 1,000 people have died trying to access aid in the last two months. 

It cannot be beyond human ingenuity to provide food to starving people without killing them.

I weep at the starvation of the people of Gaza. I weep at the killing of civilian men, women and children in revenge for the Hamas killings of October 2023. I weep at the evidence of the ethnic cleansing of Gaza as we watch.

History will judge us if we don't speak out and act against these crimes.

††Thabo Cape Town

 

Statement on South Africa's police leadership crisis

The leadership crisis in policing in South Africa leaves the public confused about whether either the accusers or the accused are capable of protecting us from crime. The allegations being flung around are serious and worrying, and threaten to undermine even further both police morale and public confidence in policing.

We cannot wait for a drawn-out commission of inquiry. We need an urgent and impartial preliminary inquiry, to be conducted by judges, external policing experts and investigators - all of unimpeachable integrity - to assess the situation and to advise the President, and report to Parliament, on the way ahead within six weeks.

Archbishop Thabo Makgoba

Sermon for the funeral of the Revd Canon Prof. Lulama Mthanjiswa Ntshingwa

The Most Revd Dr Thabo Makgoba

Archbishop and Metropolitan

Funeral of

The Revd Canon Prof. Lulama Mthanjiswa Ntshingwa

Diocese Of Grahamstown

Christian Church, East London

Monday, 30^th June 2025

Readings: Jonah 3: 1-10; 2 Timothy 4: 1 - 8; Psalm 34: 1 -9: John 21: 15 -19

May I speak in the name of God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, our comforter and sustainer whom Canon Lulama so dearly loved and faithfully served. Amen

Dear sisters and brothers in Christ; dear Mrs MaRhadebe and your children Melikhaya and Nombuyiselo, your daughter-in-law Nommso, your grandchildren Kadija, Sambeso and Alhaji, Fr Lulama’s siblings, your brother, families and friends; dear Vicar-General Bubele Mfenyana; dear colleagues and guests from far and near, the Mayor of this area and the President of the South African Council of Churches.

It is heart-rending to be here today to offer our deepest condolences to you all on the sad loss of Fr Mthanjiswa, a husband, a father, a grandfather, a brother, an uncle, a fellow fighter for liberation, a colleague, and a friend. I say friend because since the days of the Anglican Student Federation, when he was at Fedsem and I was studying elsewhere, we have witnessed to God in different contexts, and he was ordained two years before I was ordained. So, I can safely say in isiXhosa, singamafumanana nkundleni.

I came to know Mthanjiswa best during my time as both a Suffragan Bishop in this diocese and as a diocesan bishop, long after he had become renowned in this community and throughout the Eastern Cape for his commitment to justice, peace and freedom. In fact, his influence stretched way beyond the Eastern Cape and even the borders of South Africa – it’s been fascinating to be reminded in recent days of how, in the 1980s, after he was detained, MaRhadebe lost her job as a consequence, and they were receiving death threats, Bishop David Russell arranged for them to spend respite time in the Diocese of Washington. There, the parish where he was based reported, they participated in parish life, made many friends, and shared our South African story with other area churches and schools, and visited the American states of West Virginia, Delaware and New York. In that way they acted as early ambassadors for the liberated South Africa we have become. If I had my way, I would ask the Minister of International Relations to make him posthumously an Ambassador!

On Saturday morning, the 21^st of June when I received the news of his passing from the Vicar General, ndakhathazeka kakhulu. To console myself I said kanene kwathiwa kuthi nguMthanjiswa, perhaps wathatha la Ndumiso 90 seriously, that we are given three-score-and-ten and he passed at the age of 70. Ndiyabulela Bhele (Ven. Mfenyana) ngokumkhathalela ngexesha lokugula kwakhe. Ndiyabulela MamBhele for your love and support of him. Thank you also for contacting me and expressing the family’s wish that I should preside and preach at this Requiem Mass. Thank you to everyone in the Diocese and beyond for the preparations you have so diligently made for today’s proceedings. Let me also thank my chaplain, Mcebisi Pinyana, who was here for the Elective Assembly but agreed to stay on to chaplain his Archbishop before going back to Cape Town.

Dear friends, I always find it difficult to accept the loss of a loved one and in this case, I am particularly moved by the passing of Canon Lulama because I know the prominent role that he played in the lives of many people, in church and society alike. As a veteran of the church and of the struggle, I can only describe him as a pastor, a priest, a prophet and a pragmatist, and there was still more he had to offer at his age.

But as we bid farewell, and give thanks to God for his life and witness today, be comforted by the words of St Paul (Rom. 8:38-39); “For I am convinced that neither death nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor heights, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ our Lord”.

Dear friends, indeed, we know that Mthanjiswa has not been separated from the love of God. If these words are true for anyone, they are most certainly true for him. Nevertheless, despite the comforting words the scriptures offer us, our hearts are heavy today. Perhaps we struggle to understand that we shall not see that naughty smile of his again, we shall not see those bright eyes again, we shall not hear his voice again, nor shall we find ourselves enveloped in his embrace – an embrace of love that went far wider than the reach of his arms and touched the most marginalised and needy communities, not only here but wherever he walked and whomever he touched.

For, as I have already indicated, his reach stretched far. We knew him as an outstanding Christian, a devout Anglican to the core, a spiritual leader committed to issues of social justice and peace. As we have heard from the outpouring of tributes in recent days, he was brave. He led protests and defended workers, he urged people to exercise their votes responsibly, he campaigned for those affected by HIV and Aids as head of the Eastern Cape AIDS Council, he advocated against gender-based violence, he spoke out against the abuse of children and urged that we set good examples for young men, he spoke out against the abuse of religion and he led efforts to protect people from Covid-19.

He was also very critical of the church in how he felt we let down the youth, particularly those that died at a tavern not far from here. He was pained that those kids died on a Sunday morning. He uttered very strong ways and said: They died on a Sunday morning, where was the church in its formation when such young children could die on a Sunday morning in a tavern?

More broadly, he was a respected elder cleric with a sound theology who represented the Anglican Church internationally as a member of the Anglican-Methodist International Commission, and in the ecumenical community, as displayed by the people who are here, he played a leading role in challenging government to care for God’s people under the banner of the Eastern Cape Council of Churches. But, this summary does not fully convey the fullness of this remarkable priest, a husband, a father, a colleague and a friend.

And I've been deeply touched in recent days, by the accounts of many about his encounters as a pastor and a dear friend. Enkosi, MaRhadebe, for being his support system, ngamaxesha obunzima in his ministry and in your lives.

In memory of, and respect for, his tradition of concern for the oppressed and suffering people of God, and in the light of what Jonah (3:1ff) said to us, let us call a fast. Perhaps our fast can take this form, taking a moment today to remember the people of Palestine, especially those in Gaza and the Occupied West Bank of the Jordan. Anglicans will remember that last year, our church’s Provincial Synod called for a ceasefire in Gaza, the release of prisoners, the return of hostages, an unconditional withdrawal of Israeli troops from Gaza, and an immediate end to the Israeli occupation of all the Palestinian territories. But as Pope Leo XIV said, words are not enough, and as we have said in the past during the struggle, an injury to one is an injury to all. Perhaps in the spirit of Mthanjiswa and the call by Jonah, let us organize at parish level around our call, creating prayer cells and holding vigils, and lobbying churches, businesses and government locally to use their connections and leverage to support the freedom of Palestine.

And now let us also turn to what the scriptures may be saying to us today and in the light of the passing of Mthanjiswa and the Anglican Church's liturgical calendar. Today, we remember St Peter and St Paul, who are jointly commemorated in the well-established tradition of the church, both having died as martyrs in Rome during the persecution of the Emperor Nero. The little book, Saints and Seasons, says Paul was granted the right of a Roman citizen to be killed by the sword while Peter suffered the common fate of the underprivileged of his day and was crucified.

In today’s reading (2 Tim 4: 1-8) Paul solemnly charges Timothy before God to preach the word, to do so on all occasions, whether conditions are favourable or not, and to challenge his listeners by either rebuking them or encouraging them, depending on the needs of the hour, and to do so with unfailing patience and comprehensive instruction. Paul told Timothy he was to do this because the time was coming when the followers of Christ would reject good teaching, turn from hearing the truth to listening to fiction, and listen to teachers who would say whatever their listeners wanted to hear to tickle their fancy. Timothy was urged always to be sober, to be prepared to suffer hardship, and to be active in declaring the Good News of Christ, discharging his ministry to the fullest extent.

And in the Gospel passage that was so beautifully read today, (Jn 21: 15-19), there is a close link between hearing the teaching of Jesus and believing in God who sent Jesus. Faith springs from a recognition of the divine mission of Jesus and therefore the divine authority of his words. The threefold challenge to Peter may well have been designed to parallel his threefold denial. The third question is the strongest assertion of the three, emphasised by Peter’s grief at being asked three times. Jesus also said ‘…when you are old you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will dress you and lead you where you do not want to go’.

So friends, Jesus is to judge all of humankind, and if we are to prepare for that day, we need to have clear minds as we minister to God’s people. If God be our destiny nothing else matters, since he gave us his own Son to die on our behalf. And so today we are here to bring to God our grief at the loss of our dear friend, even as we give thanks for his life and commend him to the everlasting care of God, who is the resurrection and the life. In the same breath, we have also come to hear God’s comforting words to us, for in Jesus, God tasted death and yet lives, and because he lives, he has opened the gates of glory to all who believe. We know that Canon Mthanjiswa now enjoys the fullness of abundant life. This we know because even as Jesus wept at the grave of his dear friend Lazarus, he knew Lazarus would rise. Thus Jesus he understands our tears even as we believe. In Jesus we find a safe place to bring our weeping as we mourn the loss of a dear husband, a father, grandfather, a colleague and friend.

Siyabulela, Mrs Ntshingwa, we thank you most sincerely for sharing your husband and father to your children with us. He became a father to many too, and we are especially grateful that when he was called to serve the church in many parishes, you willingly supported his ministry until the end of his earthly.

Sisters and brothers, death and life are thought of as two distinct spheres, yet faith is the means by which we pass from one to the other. Jesus says that ‘the hour is coming’ for the final resurrection of the dead (John 5:25). The idea that departed friends shall rise to glory is one that should fill us with joy, and the one which gives us hope in Jesus Christ.

Just as the resurrection of those who died in him depends on him, so too will the resurrection of Mthanjiswa. God’s overflowing love reaches out unconditionally to everyone who believes. It flowed unrestricted through Mthanjiswa as well. He displayed that love exceptionally to his family, to those he cared for in the many parishes and institutions he served in and beyond this diocese, province and country through his selfless life. Conscious of the needs of the marginalised and social outcasts, his love drove his unstinting passion for promoting social justice and caring for the poorest of the poor.

Sisters and brothers, let me end with the words that were spoken by Peter (1 Pet 1:3ff) – but could just easily have been said of Canon Ntshingwa today. “Praise be to God and the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he gave us a new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade… for you are receiving the end result of your faith, the salvation of your souls”. It seems to me these words sum up the living hope to which Mthanjiswa’s life testified.

So I want to say: well done, good and faithful servant. You are the priest in the order of Melchizedek. May you rest in peace and rise in glory!

God bless the Ntshingwa family and friends. God bless all gathered here today. God bless this diocese, this Province and our beloved South Africa. God loves you, and so do I. Amen.

A Message of Condolence on the death of Bishop Dino Gabriel

Message of condolence from Archbishop Thabo Makgoba on the death of Bishop Dino Gabriel, formerly of the Diocese of Zululand and the Diocese of Natal

Dear Bishop Nkosinathi,

On behalf of the Province, the Synod of Bishops, Lungi and myself, please convey our deepest condolences to MaDlamini, the children and the whole family, as well as the Diocesan family, on Bishop Dino’s tragic passing.

Even as I give thanks to God for Dino’s life and ministry in the Dioceses of the Highveld, Zululand and Natal, I also say to MaDlamini and your children, thank you for sharing Dino with the Province and even beyond. He is now at rest with his and our Lord and Saviour, whom he served with such love and energy.

It is especially sad when illness and death come so early and seemingly unfairly, and so we come to God today in confusion and deep grief. Yet Dino would want us to give praise and thanks to God that God was able to use him for His service and to His glory here on earth. And Jesus gives us space to weep for our friend, remembering that Jesus himself wept at the grave of his friend Lazarus—even though he knew Lazarus would be raised. So let us not be afraid to mourn our loss, even as we hold fast to our faith—for, as Jesus also assured us, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.”

I spoke to Dino for a long time over the phone before he was to be discharged from the rehabilitation centre for his step-down process. He cried before being able to speak but after thanking me for calling, his first words were: “Thank you for the opportunity to minister. Where I have erred, forgive me.” He knew he was dying, and appealed to us to pray for and look after MaDlamini, who—also knowing that he was dying—had been so supportive of him. He hoped I might get there to see him, but added that knowing my schedule it was enough to have had the conversation. He was anxious about his medical bills, and we have since been able to approve a modest grant to help.

We ended our conversation with prayer, concluding with the Lord’s Prayer. I was scheduled to come to visit Dino this coming Wednesday, but alas it was not to be. Bishop Nkosinathi called last week to say he was at the hospital, where Dino was peacefully slipping away. I managed to pray with the family afterwards whilst they were still in hospital.

I am so sorry not to be with you, since I am in Glion, Switzerland, fulfilling a prior commitment with the United Nations. Thank you, Bishop Nkosinathi, for standing in my stead and to Bishop Sitembele for preaching. Well done, Dino, God’s good and faithful servant. Rest eternal, grant unto him, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon him. May he rest in peace and rise in glory.

††Thabo Cape Town