A Homily for Ash Wednesday

Ash Wednesday Eucharist 

St George’s Cathedral, Cape Town

18th February 2026

Readings: Isaiah 58:1-12, Psalm 51:1-17, Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21

May I speak in the name of God, who is Creator, Redeemer and Sustainer. Amen.

Sisters and brothers in Christ, welcome to this Ash Wednesday service. and to the beginning of our journey through Lent and Passiontide to the Glorious celebration of Easter. Lent is a time of preparation for that great feast, a time of penitence, of seeking humility, of finding and expressing our gratitude for God’s love for us and of facing our own mortality. It is, to sum up, a season in which we are called to embark on an earnest search for God, stripping away all in our lives which distracts us from God, and during which by the grace of God we can find hope and joy in our lives and those of our communities.

Our readings today – from David’s penitential psalm, to Isaiah’s classic ode to compassion and liberation, to Matthew’s prescription to the kind of prayer that comes from the heart and not merely from the lips – can help us to discover the true meaning and the potential impact of Lent on our lives in a time of moral uncertainty and confusion.

It is hard to overstate the depth of the sin that David was atoning for when he wrote Psalm 51, desperately appealing “Have mercy on me, O God,” “wash me thoroughly from my guilt,” and “do not take your holy spirit from me.” David was actually seeking forgiveness for what we describe today as gender-based violence – violence which he perpetrated on Bathsheba, the wife of Uriah the Hittite, and which he then tried to cover up by orchestrating the death of Uriah.

In the context of the gender-based violence we experience in South Africa today, it needs to be emphasised that confession and contrition must include acceptance of the verdict of the judicial system. But accepting that, having confessed and shown repentance for our sins. what message does the passage from Isaiah have for us during Lent? Simply this: that the fast that is pleasing to God is one in which what others see reflects what is actually in our hearts. Our fast must be one in which we truly humble ourselves, in which metaphorically speaking, we wear sackcloth and ashes, to use the image which reflects how people showed repentance in Old Testament times. 

Such a fast promises us healing and restoration. But it also demands of us that we take the action so beautifully described in verses 6 and 7, and which played such an important role in the church struggle against apartheid: that we loose the chains of injustice, liberate the oppressed and provide food and housing for the poor. And underlining the importance of the outward observance of fasting reflecting a genuine inward faith, our reading from Matthew continues the emphasis on keeping a fast which reflects humility and integrity.

In a few moments we will have the sign of the Cross traced on our foreheads with ash. Ash has been  a symbol through the ages of our sad human reality, of our burnt-out lives, of our social realities, of the fires which rage and the shacks which burn in our informal settlements. In recent years, ash has represented, whether in Spain or Australia or the East Coast of the USA, the devastating fires that have caused such destruction as climate change and environmental squandering have made many parts of the world huge tinderboxes, not to speak of the ashes and rubble in Gaza, which represent the wholesale displacement of people.

Ash is indeed a symbol of fragility, vulnerability, poor choices and sin. That is true. But if it was the only truth, it would condemn us to a dark future. However, there is more to the ash you will receive today, because it is signed, not randomly, not as a smudge, but as a Cross, and that changes everything. The Cross reminds us that the ashes of our lives will be redeemed. As in nature, so too with us; scorched earth often yields new life, eco-systems re-activated and we rejoice in something better, more beautiful and bolder. 

Matthew understands that this hope, this renewal, our new humanity, is to be anchored in relationships. Thus he records Jesus reminding us of three traditional practices that we need to emulate in Lent if we are going to be open to transformation. Jesus reminds us firstly of the call to fast, which is all about our relationship with ourselves. Jesus then asks us to pray, which is about our relationship with God. Finally, Jesus challenges us to a generous giving of alms, which speaks to our relationship with others.

Christian fasting goes much deeper than the current fashionable practice of fasting linked to egotism and good health. It  reminds us that we are not sustained by bread alone, and speaks to the re-ordering of our desires. It exposes the subtle ways we attempt to assert an independence from God, and it creates space; space to listen, space to notice the hungry and those on the margins of society, space to rediscover and celebrate our dependence on God.

In his emphasis on prayer, Matthew calls on us to use it to help heal the wounds which cannot be seen. Wounds of abandonment, exclusion, racism, and patriarchy, all fester below the surface, in many people. In a nation that carries the residual trauma of apartheid, a nation that still experiences the very real trauma of violence – and especially the scourge of the abuse of women and children – prayer can never just be a private devotion. At its heart, prayer is fundamentally about transformation.

Finally, Jesus talks of alms-giving. In Biblical times, the giving of alms was more than making voluntary donations; it was a call to share justly. St. Augustine says that “Charity is no substitute for justice withheld”. Similarly, Madiba used to say that “Overcoming poverty is not a gesture of charity, it is an act of justice.” We dare not forget that we live in a country marked by deep inequalities, by relentless hunger and thus a large part of our response must be responding to the challenge of those who have fasting forced on them and for whom Lent is a year-round hell. Some part of our fasting must speak into that reality, into advocacy for food security and a society where no one goes to bed hungry. In a country where informal settlements stand next to wealthy suburbs, where youth unemployment is at its highest, the giving of alms is a moral response to a shared humanity and Lent an opportunity to align our actions with our values.

Finally, listen to this insightful saying by one of the Desert Fathers: “We are dust, yes, but dust breathed upon by God.” Therefore we journey into this Lententide, not with the shadow of our ashes haunting us, but with indefinable hope. Go into Lent boldly filled with hope!

Amen.

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Global Centre for Peacebuilding and Business Launched to Promote Socially Responsible Mining

 St George’s Cathedral, Cape Town

Fifth Sunday After the Epiphany

The Most Revd Dr Thabo Makgoba

Archbishop of Cape Town 

Launch of the Global Centre for Peacebuilding and Business

February 8th, 2026 

Isaiah 58: 1-9a; Psalm 112: 1-10; 1 Corinthians 2: 1-12; Matthew 5:13-20

May I speak in the name of God who calls, informs and transforms us. Amen.

Thank you, Dean Terry, the Church Wardens and the staff of the Cathedral for your leadership and your welcome today. To our ecumenical friends, fellow clergy and bishops, and colleagues a special welcome. To the regular members of the Cathedral congregation, today’s launch of a Global Centre for Peace-building and Business represents an important step forward in an initiative in which churches, including the Church of England, the Vatican's Dicastery for Promoting Integral Human Development, and the Methodist Church in England are working with actors from the mining industry to promote ethical, sustainable mining.

Turning to today’s readings in the light of that introduction, Isaiah’s challenge, the Psalmist’s blessing, Paul’s witness, and Jesus’ salt-and-light vision, frame our purpose today: that is, to pursue justice and peace in contexts all too often marred by extraction and exploitation.

The Story of Mining in Our Lives

Mining has shaped human flourishing since our ancestors chipped flint for tools. Today, minerals power everything from our toothpaste to the digital devices that connect remote rural areas to cities, and one continent to another—and will even drive spacecraft like NASA’s ESCAPADE mission to Mars. In my own family, faith and mining intertwined: my father, a self-supporting priest of the Zion Christian Church, was a travelling salesman who travelled from mine compound to mine compound, selling clothing to West Rand mineworkers; my maternal grandfather hailed from the platinum fields of Bapong. As a psychologist, I’ve sat beside miners in a Johannesburg hospital, bearing witness to their pain and trauma after their spinal cords had been crushed in rockfalls deep underground, rendering them paraplegics and quadriplegics.

However, I must confess that we in the churches have fallen short in our ministry to the mining industry. Although our congregations include people from all sectors of the industry – owners, managers and workers – we have, for example, often failed to minister to miners living in hostels. So we have had a limited understanding of the needs, including the spiritual needs, of those who work in extreme heat on stopes two or three kilometres below the surface of the earth. And we have little understanding of the impact on managers and owners of the volatility of commodity prices, of the relentless pressures from shareholders for better results every quarter, and of the demands posed by technically sophisticated and complex mining operations.

Faith-based institutions speak with unique authority

But by joining the initiative which has led to today’s launch, we in the faith community, besides acknowledging the shortfalls I have referred to, have declared that it is not too late to remedy our past failures. Across Africa, faith-based institutions speak with unique authority. The leading continent-wide opinion pollster, Afrobarometer, has reported that a survey of 53,000 people across 39 African countries showed that two in every three Africans trust religious leaders, while fewer than half trust political leaders. In Central Africa, where the mining of strategic minerals is widely associated with child labour, environmental degradation and conflict, religious leaders are the only institution trusted by a majority. 

The words of Christine Firer Hinze, a theologian at the Jesuits’ Fordham University, sum up effectively the task we face. She has written that “in a world of radically unequal power and opportunities, one way towards justice and a better life for all is... about cultivating... practices of solidarity...” And her words challenge us here today to discern, in her words, “the interdependency of all peoples within earth’s habitats” and to work “collaboratively for the shared good of all people and the planet.” 

It is within this context that in South Africa and elsewhere, faith communities and the mining industry have begun to work together to ensure that the industry develops in ways that are in harmony with new patterns of human thought and behaviour, so that mining is seen as a welcome and valued partner in society, accepted as promoting the common good. 

Since 2013, we have been convening at Bishopscourt here in Cape Town what we have described as “Courageous Conversations” with mine CEOs, community leaders and NGOs. Beautifully, the conversations have been faith-led, starting with Evensong here at the cathedral, featuring the choir of St Cyprian’s Church, Langa. Morning Prayer has followed at the Church of the Good Shepherd, Protea, a site of apartheid forced removals. Key at these courageous conversations is seeking safe spaces to explore how the pursuit of business, the promotion of human dignity and caring for the environment intersect.

The challenges we face

Today the world confronts multiple fractures. Global norms are under strain, as the forum at Davos recently highlighted. Conflict is rising: in 2024 the Uppsala Conflict Data Programme recorded 61 state-based armed conflicts, the highest since 1946. Across Africa and beyond, local disputes over mineral wealth fuel ethnic tensions, insurgencies, and human suffering. The Democratic Republic of Congo, home to an estimated $24 trillion in untapped minerals, has seen six million deaths since 1996. And rebel groups profit from revenues from coltan, the mineral used in the manufacture of products such as smartphones, laptops and electric vehicles. 

We in the Anglican Church of Southern Africa have a special place in our hearts for our sisters and brothers in Mozambique, and I am glad that Bishop Manuel from Nampula is here today. This is because they used to be part of our church and because the apartheid government helped sponsor a destructive civil war there for nearly two generations. Now, the discovery of gas and rubies in northern Mozambique, combined with tensions born of past central government neglect of the region, and further fuelled by Islamic militancy, have generated a vicious insurgency. Thousands of civilians have been killed and over a million people displaced from their homes. On top of that, the legitimacy of a government which is being called upon to bring peace is in doubt because of a disputed election result.

In mining areas across the globe, we also confront the destructive legacy of past operations: abandoned mines, toxic waste and the failure of tailings dams containing the waste left over from mining. The collapse of these dams releases floods of mud which overwhelm communities: in 2019, 272 people died in Brumadinho in Brazil; in 2022, three people died in Jagersfontein in the Free State. In response, an independent Global Tailings Management Institute has been established in South Africa, backed by the United Nations, the mining industry, and the Church of England Pensions Board’s global safety initiative. There are these little initiatives that say we cannot be overwhelmed by darkness. As the song which we sung today says so beautifully:

Christ be our light! Shine in our hearts,

shine through the darkness.

Shine through the darkness.

Christ in your Church gathered today.

The challenges will grow over the next two decades as areas are mined out and the mines there begin to close. Old mining sites will need to be cleaned up and stabilised, hazardous material removed, waste dealt with and ecosystems restored. New mining ventures will need to adopt truly sustainable practices. At a meeting of investors and mining experts on Friday, our Minister of Mineral and Petroleum Resources, Gwede Mantashe, underscored this point. Observing that it is the sweat and blood of workers which transforms investment into wealth, he said investment needed to be accompanied by social responsibility, points that I would like to underscore too.

The Global Centre for Peacebuilding and Business

It is against this backdrop—over twelve years of prayer, study, and dialogue at Bishopscourt—that the Global Centre for Peacebuilding and Business has been conceived. The details have been fleshed out since a meeting at Bishopscourt two years ago, following a challenge I issued at the London Stock Exchange arising from the relationship between mining and conflicts.

Today, from this People’s Cathedral, we launch the centre. Our calling is to let our light shine, to be salt that seasons and preserves, to witness against injustice in mining practices, and to foster equitable partnerships that honour people and our planet. Our work will interrogate the questions: How shall we remain lamps and lamp-bearers in dark times? How shall our salt retain its flavour? I invite you now to join in this vital and ambitious work. 

We will focus especially on regions where extraction fuels conflict: Goma in the DR Congo, Cabo Delgado in Mozambique, communities in Madagascar, parts of Brazil, and areas plagued by the Zama-Zamas in South Africa, the informal miners who work abandoned shafts. We will continue the Marikana renewal project, of which I am a patron, which we launched more than decade ago in response to the massacre at that mine.

Together, through prayer, advocacy, dialogue and innovative finance, we can promote the rehabilitation of old mine landscapes, prevent new harms, and build local infrastructures for peace. We will build permanent infrastructure for dialogue. We will nurture the Peace Huts we have established in the DR Congo, the Peace Clubs in Mozambique and the Courageous Conversations in South Africa and Madagascar. My challenge today is: Will you commit your voice, your influence, your resources, your prayers to this project?

As president of the Centre, I pledge to walk this path with you—speaking boldly against oppression, illuminating injustice, and stewarding God’s good creation. Let me end with the words of the prophet Micah: “What does the Lord require of you but to do justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with your God?” Let us answer that call today.

Amen.

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Blessing & Dedication of Parish Hall at St Andrew’s Parish, Newlands, Cape Town

 Archbishop Thabo Makgoba

St Andrew’s Parish, Newlands

Service for Blessing & Dedication of Parish Hall

1st February 2026 

Readings: Colossians 3: 12 -17

May I speak in the name of God who calls, informs and transforms us. Amen.  

Sisters and brothers in Christ, the family of St Andrew’s, it’s a real joy to be with you to celebrate this important day. A warm welcome to Bishop Josh, Archdeacon Reeva and to all the clergy present and your spouses, as well as to the guests who are here to grace this occasion. A special welcome to our visitors and the benefactors of this beautiful project.  

Thank you especially to the Rector, Archdeacon Mkhuseli, and to all who worked to prepare this service. Thank you, Church Wardens, for your practical arrangements and your warm welcome on our arrival here this afternoon.  

In the letter to the Colossians, Paul refutes what is called the Colossian heresy, which – we can infer from his letter – included teaching which downplayed the divine nature of Christ. To accomplish his goal, Paul first exalts in Chapter One the supremacy of Christ. In today’s passage, having called his audience to renewal and to a new ordering of their hearts and minds, Paul proceeds to define more precisely what he means. To offset the lists of vices he has named in previous verses – vices which cause harm to others – he gives a list of virtues. In doing so, he focusses attention on the spiritual qualities which God’s chosen ones should display – virtues of compassion, kindness, humility, meekness and patience, all of them virtues which require us to care for others and to put them first. Note that three of the qualities Paul lists – namely kindness, meekness and patience – feature in Paul’s list of the fruits of the spirit in the Letter to the Galatians (Gal. 5:22). 

This week we celebrate Candlemas, the presentation of Christ in the Temple, a light to lighten the world and show the glory of God. It is an important festival, a time of encounter, of light replacing darkness, hope replacing despair and the new replacing the old. As we consider the current situation in our community, our city and our country today, what kind of candles or lights should we be holding up today to show to the world the saving, the renewing power of faith in Christ? 

Every day we see around us the consequences of joblessness, of addiction. Across our city everyone suffers from crime fuelled by drug addiction, which might explain the smashing of a stained glass window and the theft from a collection box at St George's Cathedral a few nights ago. In neighbourhoods not too far from us, we hear and see evidence of extortion, gang violence and the tragic deaths of young people in the crossfire. And across the country, we read evidence nearly every day of nepotism and corruption, including within our police service, as those who are well-connected line their pockets. Abroad we read of the suffering of the people, just to take a few examples, of Sudan, of Gaza and the West Bank, of Ukraine and Burma/Myanmar, and in recent days of Minneapolis in the United States. 

One of the greatest temptations we face is to build walls or sanctuaries and withdraw from the world, especially when disillusionment prompts a desire to disengage from public life. I understand this feeling, as the prospect of speaking out can be overwhelming, particularly when we feel unheard or betrayed. However, as moral and spiritual leaders, we are called to resist this temptation and remain engaged in public discourse. If we retreat, the space will be filled by those motivated by self-interest rather than the common good.

About 18 months ago, during an interview with UCT's Graduate School of Business, I was asked how to navigate prophetic leadership in a disillusioned democracy. I responded that silence is not an option when corruption, violence, and inequality become the norm; moral voices must speak. But the leadership we provide as the church requires care. In choosing courage over caution, we need to provide moral clarity, not claim moral superiority.

Prophetic leadership cannot simply echo public anger or adopt an outrage-driven narrative. If we do that, we risk becoming just another voice in an already polarised environment. I have learned in my 18 years in this office that prophecy is not about being the loudest or positioning oneself as morally superior. Instead, prophetic public ministry emphasises both truth-telling and truth-seeking, recognizing my own frailty. We should not foster a theology that solely focuses on individual spirituality but rather one that encourages us to consider how we can interface with others and improve our world. Truth-telling must be rooted in the spiritual qualities of which St Paul speaks, those of love and humility, and of being in relationship with others and holding one another accountable. It requires carefully listening to the pain and frustrations people carry without allowing such pain to devolve into cynicism or despair.

In sum, our responses to the ills we see and experience in society must be rooted in a firm faith in God, in a loving God who cares equally for each one of us, of a God who says in Jesus that each of the hairs of our heads are numbered (Lk 12:7; Mt 10:30). Once we accept that, once we actually feel it and know it deeply in ourselves, it gives us the confidence, the energy and the certainty that in God no problem is insoluble, no challenge is too big for us. It empowers us to deploy the science and the expertise that God has gifted us with to come up with practical programmes to address our challenges.

So as we dedicate this hall, in the sentiments of the Collect we used in the introduction to our service, we thank God for all who worked to have this hall built, and pray that it will become a centre for the nourishment and renewal of parish and community life; a resource which enhances joyful relationships among all who use it; and a place which helps us to nurture moral clarity and courageous leadership as we prayerfully confront our current context.

People of St Andrew’s, as you gather and direct mission and ministry from this historic parish with its beautiful worship space and this new facility, know that Jesus lives, and because he lives, we shall live also. Believe this, and we shall see the glory of the Incarnate Christ. 

Now may the Holy Spirit that God’s people experienced like a rushing mighty wind on the Day of Pentecost, transform our lives to be living stones which provide a firm foundation for God’s church in this place.

May God bless each one of you, your loved ones and this whole community. 

God loves you and so do I. 

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