Showing posts with label Christian Maturity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Christian Maturity. Show all posts

Wednesday, 14 December 2011

To the Laos - To the People of God, Christmas 2011

Dear People of God

A blessed and joyful Christmas to you all! May the love of God overflow in you and all those you love, this festive season, as you share in celebrating the greatest Christmas present of all, God’s gift of himself, Emmanuel – God with us, always and everywhere, no matter what we face in life.
There is a story about a small girl, who was taken by her granny to see the nativity scene at her local church. ‘Isn't that beautiful?’ said the granny. ‘Look at all the animals, and Mary, Joseph and the baby Jesus.’ ‘Yes, Granny’ replied the little girl, ‘it’s lovely, but there’s one thing I don’t understand. Isn't baby Jesus ever going to grow up? He's still the same size he was last year.’

Whether the story is true, I have no idea. But I do know that sometimes we concentrate on Christ’s infancy, and fail to grasp that Christmas is at least as much about his deity – the eternal Word taking flesh, to be the Saviour of the world. His complete vulnerability and weakness as a tiny baby points to the vulnerability and weakness he will embrace as he allows himself to be crucified for the sins of the world, to bring healing and redemption wherever there is brokenness and destruction, and to overcome death so we might have life in abundance, in this world, and in all eternity.

St John the Evangelist, in the famous words that begin his gospel, speaks of Christ being to us a light in our darkness, a light that no darkness can put out. These words of course resonate more strongly at Christmas time in the northern hemisphere winter, but even in the height of our southern summer, I find them powerfully speaking of the promise of true hope, no matter how bleak our circumstances.

The hope we have in Christ, for this world and the world to come, was very much in evidence at the beginning of December, when I fulfilled a long-standing desire to go to Namibia, to participate in ordinations. It was especially moving to visit Northern Namibia, where so many wars were fought, and so many lives destroyed. Though what Namibia faced was unique, there are many similarities, as well as interconnections, with South Africa’s apartheid history. Achieving independence in 1990, they were an inspiration for many of us as we hoped and prayed to follow a similar path to freedom and justice. St Mary’s Mission at Odibo, in Ovamboland, is one of the oldest Anglican centres in the country, in time building not only a church, but also a school and seminary, and a hospital. The Mission produced many clerics and political leaders, and educated the current President of Namibia as well as the present Bishop and his two predecessors. The iconic leader, Herman Andimba Toivo ja Toivo, who spent 16 years on Robben Island, was both a pupil and a teacher at the Mission school.

The Angolan border is only 5 minutes away, and this area was ravaged by the South African Defence Force, with much destruction and loss of life. Ruins from those times, including of our seminary building, are still evident, while the emotional, spiritual and physical scars remain among people on both sides of the border (as well as among those who were exiled there, or coerced by the SADF into fighting an illegal and unjust war there), as I saw when I made a brief excursion into Angola, and felt in exchanges with Bishop Andre Soares and 4 of his clergy, who in turn came to join us in Odibo.

Yet, against such a dark background, the light shone, as we gathered for the ordination of 40 deacons and 2 priests. Present with us where the President of Namibia, the governor of the North, the Queen mother of the North, and the head of the local council, and I was able to voice a public apology for all that South Africa had done during the illegal occupations. I stressed how knowing and making known the truth of this terrible past and its atrocities can become, through Christ’s redemptive power, a means for us to find healing, and to be made his conduits for reconciliation and peace-building. As Christmas draws near, it seems to me that in bringing, as we must, our stories, our memories, our woundedness, to Jesus, we are almost offering them as the Wise Men offered their gifts, the marks of their own lives, kneeling before the infant king – so that he can transform them for his own, life-giving, purposes.

The Wise Men came to the manger because they had spent long years learning how to interpret the heavens, and so recognised the importance of the star when it appeared. I said to those being ordained that reading the signs of the times is the task of all Christian leaders, so that we can bring to bear the truths of the gospel, with all its promises of life and liberty, wherever we find war, death, oppression and their lasting effects at work. This is God’s promise for Namibians, and for all his children throughout his world. And so we must not be afraid to speak truth to power, and be responsive to the needs of God’s people, whom we are called to serve through joining in God’s mission. In ordination, in particular, we aspire to be like the prophet Isaiah, responding to God’s call by saying ‘Here am I, send me!’ (Is 6:8) Yet, the words of St Paul in Romans 12, which are also read at ordination services, remind us that this response finds its place within a far wider missional context of presenting ourselves as ‘living sacrifices’. (This is, of course, an essential part of the incarnation – culminating in Christ’s sacrificial death upon the cross.) St Paul goes on to remind us that we must not ‘think too highly of ourselves’, but rather find our place within the body of Christ, the Church, called to serve one another with whatever gifts we are privileged to receive; and together to serve the world around us. ‘Peace be with you! As the Father sends me, so I send you’ said the risen Christ to his disciples, in our Gospel passage (Jn 20:19-23) – and this is still his message and his call to all who would follow him.

The ordination of 40 deacons was the fruit of a 3-year ministry formation course, promoted by Bishop Nathaniel and his team, the Dean, retired Bishop Petrus, and the Ven Kaluwapa L Katenda, who ably steered the 3 year ministry formation course: study by correspondence, with support both from COTT and the US, funded by Trinity Wall Street and USPG. I congratulate them all on taking theological formation so seriously. I am delighted that some of those who followed the course will go on to pursue Masters and Doctoral studies. The importance of having well trained theologians, who can themselves become theological educators, cannot be underestimated, and is one of the key planks of our commitment to theological education within our ACSA vision.

My visit to Namibia came as COP-17 was ending, and drove home the message that our reading of signs of the times must also include both political awareness, and responsiveness to the scientifically measurable changes that we see in our environment – from flooding to droughts and desertification. We need to recognise the effects of human activity on our surroundings, and respond appropriately.

I’ve written about Namibia at some length, so you may all pray for this vast Diocese, in its many needs. If some of you feel moved to offer support to a Namibian student at COTT for 3 years, please get in touch with the PEO at Bishopscourt. COTT too needs our support, including resources to upgrade the college so we can continue training future generations of servant leaders for God’s people and God’s world.

So then, dear brothers and sisters in Christ, may you all have a wonderful celebration of Christmas – worshipping the Christ-child, and also growing in your own knowledge and love of God so you may not be mere ‘children, tossed to and fro and blow about’ by every difficulty and temptation that comes your way, but rather may come ‘to maturity, to the measure of the full stature of Christ.’ (Eph 4:13,14). To him be glory in his church, at Christmas, and always.

Yours in the service of Christ

+Thabo Cape Town

Thursday, 25 August 2011

Charge to the Diocese of Cape Town Synod

The following Charge to the Diocese of Cape Town was delivered at the Opening Eucharist of the 63rd Session of Diocesan Synod, at St Cyprian's Retreat, on 25 August, 2011

Matthew 24:42-51Matthew 24:42-51

42Keep awake therefore, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming. 43But understand this: if the owner of the house had known in what part of the night the thief was coming, he would have stayed awake and would not have let his house be broken into. 44Therefore you also must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an unexpected hour.

45‘Who then is the faithful and wise slave, whom his master has put in charge of his household, to give the other slaves their allowance of food at the proper time? 46Blessed is that slave whom his master will find at work when he arrives. 47Truly I tell you, he will put that one in charge of all his possessions. 48But if that wicked slave says to himself, “My master is delayed”, 49and he begins to beat his fellow-slaves, and eats and drinks with drunkards, 50the master of that slave will come on a day when he does not expect him and at an hour that he does not know. 51He will cut him in pieces and put him with the hypocrites, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.

1 Thessalonians 3:6-13

6But Timothy has just now come to us from you, and has brought us the good news of your faith and love. He has told us also that you always remember us kindly and long to see us—just as we long to see you. 7For this reason, brothers and sisters, during all our distress and persecution we have been encouraged about you through your faith. 8For we now live, if you continue to stand firm in the Lord. 9How can we thank God enough for you in return for all the joy that we feel before our God because of you? 10Night and day we pray most earnestly that we may see you face to face and restore whatever is lacking in your faith.

11Now may our God and Father himself and our Lord Jesus direct our way to you. 12And may the Lord make you increase and abound in love for one another and for all, just as we abound in love for you. 13And may he so strengthen your hearts in holiness that you may be blameless before our God and Father at the coming of our Lord Jesus with all his saints.

Dear members of the Diocese of Cape Town, dear brothers and sisters in Christ, dear friends, I greet you in the precious name of God, who calls us to live holy and blameless lives of love and faith with him and with each other. I also extend a warm greeting to all our guests. Thank you for being with us.

As I begin, let me also thank Bishop Garth and the Advisory Committee; everyone in the Diocesan Office; all at Bishopscourt; Archdeacon Anthony Langenhoven and his team at St Cyprians; and everyone else who has contributed to this Synod, and to my Charge. As always, my family deserve particular gratitude for their patience and support – along with the nearest and dearest of others heavily involved in preparations. Let me pay special tribute to Tony Hillier. We give particular thanks for his work over many years, and wish him every blessing as he prepares for retirement.

The theme of my Charge is ‘The Good News of Faith and Love’. St Paul writes to the Thessalonians that Timothy has brought him the good news of their faith and love. Faith and love are always good news. When brothers and sisters in Christ live together in faith and love, they encourage one another, and build one another up in Christian maturity. When the people of God are full of faith and love, they are a beacon of light and hope to the surrounding community. When churches overflow with faith and love, they encourage Christians throughout the body of Christ – as the Thessalonians encouraged St Paul.

But the best ‘good news of faith and love’ is that both start with God – the God who is love, the God who is faithful. Our faith, our love, owe everything to his overflowing generosity. ‘We love’ says St John ‘because he first loved us’ (1 Jn 4:19). ‘God proves his love for us in that while we were still sinners Christ died for us,’ writes St Paul (Rom 5:8). The Psalmist recounts God’s faithfulness nearly forty times. And the writer to the Hebrews describes Jesus Christ as a ‘faithful high priest in the service of God’ (Heb 2:17).

There is no greater good news than discovering God’s love and faithfulness for ourselves: that it is not just a general attitude towards creation and humanity, but it is for you and for me! Our knowledge and experience of God, and our ability to reflect his love and faithfulness to others, should keep growing throughout our Christian lives. We will never find their limits – no matter what life brings, God’s love, God’s faithfulness, are greater.

So the central question of my Charge is this: how we can grow in this good news of faith and love?

Growth can, and should, involve both quantity and quality: growth in numbers and growth in depth, in maturity, in Christlikeness. Both are challenges to an historic church like ours, in a city of many denominations and Christian groups. We should not despise the inevitability that much of what we do is in ‘maintenance’ mode. We have a rich heritage – in people, liturgy, buildings, schools, homes, resources – and we must uphold and preserve and pass on the best of it. Overall we are in pretty good shape. We may have deficits or surpluses from year to year, but the big financial picture is sound. For this we have much to thank God – and firm foundations from which to tackle the challenges of growth with confidence.

Earlier this month I attended the Classic Pops concert that Bishops holds every three years at the City Hall. It was wonderful: well prepared and well executed, with committed boys who were exuberantly joyful in what they were doing. We left with our hearts singing.

And I asked myself – how often does our worship do this? Surely we should expect to have our hearts set on fire with the Spirit, to find ourselves fed and filled with Christ’s holy, healing, wholesome body and blood – and uplifted not just for an hour or two, but strengthened for the whole week ahead. Do we come to church – and give others reason to come to church – hungry for more of God, and expecting both to find our hunger met, and to be stirred to yearn even more deeply for him?

Perhaps for those of us who are long-term church leaders – clergy or laity – the risk is that we are not entirely expecting the Son of Man to turn up in our midst. It is easy to get comfortable running things in his absence – as Jesus’ parable warned! So we must be awake and alert; and expect the Master to come, even though he will probably upset our comfortable routines. Yet only in his presence will we find true life.

So then, let us, above all else, seek his life-changing presence evermore fully for ourselves and for those around us. As St Paul prayed for the Thessalonians, let us ‘pray earnestly that God will restore whatever is lacking in our own faith.’ We must seriously consider opportunities for renewing, deepening and sharing the good news of vibrant faith and passionate love for God, his creation, his people.

Two synod motions point to valuable resources: ‘Small Christian Communities, Renew Africa’; and ‘Church Growth, Fresh Expressions’. Both focus on growth rooted in Scripture and deepening spirituality – growth rooted in the love and faith of God for us, and our desire to know it and share it, more and more.

We must also consider the sort of leadership we need to encourage among each other now, and for the future generations. I cannot emphasise strongly enough the importance of the Endowment Fund in ensuring we leave a legacy of well-trained Clergy and laity. The motion on Lay Training is another key element.

Our gospel reading has more to say about the particular expectations placed upon those of God’s servants who have responsibilities of both leadership and care over others: ‘Who then is the faithful and wise slave, whom his master has put in charge of his household, to give the other slaves their allowance of food at the proper time?’ (Mt 24:45).

Members of Synod, these words, and the advice and warnings that come with them, are for us. How are we doing in the leadership we offer to the Diocese of Cape Town? How are we doing in the way we run our parishes, our churches, our diocesan bodies, including homes and schools, and in how we use our resources? In church jargon, we might talk about good stewardship, collegiality, and being answerable to one another within the body of Christ. In the language of the secular world, these are matters of good governance and accountability. These are the standards to which we regularly call politicians and other leaders across all sectors of society. But we can only provide a moral compass for others if our lives are directed by God in this way. For the world’s standards of good governance and accountability are merely a secular reflection of the holy and blameless life to which St Paul called the Thessalonians; they are one aspect of the wise and faithful service which Jesus asks of his followers.

We must be ready to learn from the best of secular practices. Therefore, several Synod measures propose improvements to our structures and practices. These include renaming the historic Archdeacon to the Ordinary more accurately as the Archdeacon to the Bishop of Table Bay. Second, we must ensure a clear and transparent relationship between financial and administrative tasks in the work currently undertaken by the Diocesan Secretary. Third, in line with the King III report, we propose to establish an Audit Committee, a Remuneration Committee and a Legislation Committee. These will help ensure we operate in ways that promote our desire to be wise and faithful servants, of our God, and of those to whom he sends us. In responding to this calling, we also propose amending the Diocesan Resource Teams chapter of the Diocesan Acts, to strengthen our commitments to the Environment, and to the pressing and severe needs of Social Development and Social Responsibility.

Yet, let me hasten to add, we are not environmental activists, nor social workers, nor politicians, nor moral commentators – though we may contribute in all these areas and many more. Our unique calling is to do what no-one else can do: to live out our baptismal promises in lives of faithful worship, witness and service. How can we best bring the good news of Jesus Christ, his healing touch, his redemptive power, to areas of need, suffering and deprivation? Sent by God, at his direction and in his power, we can roll up our sleeves, and get our hands dirty, and confidently engage with the messy realities, and the dire needs, of so many of God’s children alongside whom we live and work in this city. This is the lesson of Jesus’ incarnation.

And I am sure that the all-encompassing breadth of Jesus’ redemptive death and resurrection should press us not only to address symptoms but also causes. Reflecting on some of contemporary society’s persistent and pressing problems led me to write in my diary one day:

‘When it comes to true leadership in our times, NGO development projects and charities do little more than scratch at the surface of poverty. The disparity between rich and poor continues unabated, even grows; and poverty reaches pandemic proportions. Interventions to reverse this trend will not come through democracy and elections alone. While these are critical for an open society, so far they have shown no signs of translating into prosperity for all – especially the poor who remain outside the economic mainstream of the world.’

It seems to me that what is required is a reconceptualization of leadership – and here I am not talking only about Christian leadership, but about all leadership.

We need a reconceptualization of leadership as stewardship of God’s resources; stewardship as in Jesus’s parable, which entails ensuring that all those over whom one exercises authority receive ‘their allowance of food at the proper time’. In other words, leaders across all sectors must act intentionally to ensure there is equitable access to, and sharing of, the God-given resources of our planet.

The last 50 years have brought widespread political emancipation across Africa – but economic emancipation has all too often benefited a narrow political elite, while largely entrenching previously advantaged minorities. The poor majority do not even get the crumbs.

Everyone needs clean water, basic sanitation, decent housing, and effective access to adequate education and health care. Economic empowerment must promote mass employment. This is primarily governments’ task – but the private sector must also come to the party, if we are to ensure a true ‘broad-based’ approach that encompasses those excluded by current economic models. Others look to the Church also to play a significant role – earlier this month, the Minister of Health sought our support for his efforts to make a decent and affordable level of health care to all South Africans. But the question remains of how we can best play a significant, tangible, role in economic development and emancipation – and help bring the authentic good news to the poor which Jesus promised.

My challenge to you is to bear this question in mind, over the next two days, most of all, in our worship and in our seeking of God’s directing. But hold it also in your mind in conversations over meals, in debates, in group work – as we consider matters raised in measures and motions, as well as other priorities from theological education to children and young people; from Anglican Communion affairs, including the crisis facing the church in Zimbabwe, to those who are dying of hunger in Somalia; from the Communion’s listening process, to gender and Provincial Guidelines for pastoral care of those in, or affected by, same-gender Civil Unions.

As we seek God’s answers, I am sure that we will find that our social ills or lack of wellbeing require solutions rooted as much in spiritual health as in economic policy-making. By God’s grace, the gospel readings for the next two days provide us with more food for thought. These will provide the basis for my reflections in the morning homilies, and a spring-board for our Bible Studies.

As we consider these, I hope we can bear in mind the deeper question of how we can make our parishes centres of the good news of faith and love, and of encountering Christ in daily life – in ways that not only touch our hearts and souls, and the domestic arenas of family and personal life, but also help us to follow Christ’s leading in every public area of life, including work and economics. How can we go beyond providing the crumbs of charity – important though these are – and start changing the systems that leave so many in need of help, rather than empowering them to help themselves? How do we become part of God’s solution – identifying and rooting out all that impedes his command that humanity, and every human individual, should flourish; and that creation should be fruitful? What biblical values might this journey demand, what sort of questions do we need to ask and what sort of activities do we need to engage in? What type of leadership do we need to nurture the Churches’ contribution in this area, and enable this to happen?

Reflecting on my ministry since coming to Cape Town, I have felt intensely that the underlying theme running through my busy life is the call to be a leader who is above all else a pastor. I feel my call to be pastor on occasions like today, and in archdeaconry teas, as well as in the joy I feel when visiting our churches, organisations, schools and homes, across the Diocese. It is what I feel when we open Bishopscourt for an annual party for those at our Children’s Homes. Let me here publicly thank Patricia de Lille, as, formerly MEC for Social Welfare, and now Mayor, for her support; and also thank our Anglican Schools for their help. I feel it in many areas of working with Bishop Garth and Tony Hillier – and I am looking forward to exploring fresh ways at the Cathedral with our new Dean.

I have also felt the importance of pastoral leadership when walking with the poorest communities of our Diocese and City. Nothing I experienced growing up in Alexandra township prepared me for the dire conditions I have encountered in areas of Khayelitsha. Through practical engagement on issues like sanitation I have often found close fellowship and growing partnership with leaders of other churches and faith communities. Their experiences and perspectives also help my own grappling with how to tackle the many social and economic challenges that confront us on a daily basis.

Let us continue that grappling together in Synod in the days ahead, placing ourselves in the hands of the living God. Let us seek his direction that we may better make the unique contribution he asks of us – as pastoral leaders, or however he calls us – to strive as fully as possible, for the building of his kingdom, for the redemption of creation and all within it, and the glorifying of his holy name. Let us be faithful and wise, let us be awake, alert and expectant – as Jesus expects of his servants. Let us, as St Paul exhorts, pursue holy and blameless lives, of earnest prayer. And let us increase and abound in love for one another, for our God, and for his world.

Let us be people who grow in knowing and sharing the Good News of Faith and Love. Amen.

Saturday, 16 October 2010

Ethical Leadership for Kairos Time and Chronos Time - The Desmond Tutu Peace Lecture

Below is the text of the Desmond Tutu Peace Lecture, delivered at the Cape Peninsula University of Technology on 15 October 2010

“Ethical Leadership in both Kairos and Chronos Time”

Vice Chancellor, Professor Mazwi-Tanga, Honoured Guests, Ladies and Gentlemen, it is a great privilege to be giving the Desmond Tutu Peace Lecture this morning. Thank you Ms Njoli-Motale, for your warm introduction and kind words. I thank the Cape Peninsula University of Technology and the South African Council of Churches for the invitation to address the theme of ethical leadership, and what it takes to be a good and effective leader in our times.

There is a famous passage in the Hebrew Scriptures – which Christians call the Old Testament – in the Book of Ecclesiastes, chapter 3, which says:

“For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven: a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted; a time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance …' and so the passage continues, until it ends 'a time to love, and a time to hate; a time for war, and a time for peace."

We must ask ourselves, what sort of times do we live in now? Surely we seek a time of peace, of planting, of building up, and healing? But what also of the unfinished mourning and weeping from our past, and of breaking down those aspects of our inheritance which still need to be broken down? Answering these questions leads us to today’s central question – if these are our times, then what sort of leadership, ethical leadership, do we now need?

Let me stay with the Bible a little longer, as a means of getting under the skin of my questions. In the New Testament, in the Greek of first century Palestine, there are two words that speak of time. One is kairos and the other is chronos.

The Leadership of Kairos Time

Let me start with kairos. Kairos became an iconic word during the struggle era, through the issuing, 25 years ago last month, of ‘The Kairos Document – A Theological Comment on the Political Crisis in South Africa’. It was so significant and influential, that numerous other Kairos Documents have since been written around the world, from Central America to Kenya and Zimbabwe; and most recently, Palestine. All address a particular urgent need. All focus on a moment in time that has the potential to be a tipping point, a chance for turning the tide – if only we take hold of it.

This is kairos time – a pivotal point, perhaps of crisis or threat, perhaps of opportunity. It calls for a decisive response, for speaking out and for acting.

The Kairos Document of 25 years ago spoke into just such a time. A state of emergency existed. Oppression and violence were at unprecedented levels. Thousands were in detention; some suffered torture and death; and others went missing, or were banned, restricted, deported or forced into exile. There was an ‘almost total black-out’ of honest news coverage. Sometimes it is hard to convey to those who were not part of it, quite what we experienced.

Believing that kairos time comes with the promise of blessing, if we grasp the opportunities which God presents – the churches realised that, into this dire situation, they had to speak out loudly and clearly the authentic word of God, the true gospel of Jesus Christ with his promise of good news for all who suffer. Therefore, most importantly, this had to be done ‘bottom up’ and not just ‘top down’. This was not a task for those bishops, clergy and academics who were cushioned in ivory towers. It was for those who lived and pastored in townships and countryside, who experienced the daily realities of these hardships. It was a task for the theologians of the university of life – both ordained and lay.

A deep and honest critique emerged, which stated the difficult truth that Christians were in reality divided, even within denominations, over apartheid and how to respond. It challenged the Churches to grapple with three ‘theologies’ which it identified: ‘state theology’, ‘church theology’ and ‘prophetic theology’: two which supported or contributed – perhaps unwittingly – to the unacceptable status quo; and one that declared God’s better way. Today I want to look at what these three theologies might mean in our own time, and the vital lessons we can learn from them for ethical leadership – whether or not we are Christians or people of faith.

The Leadership of Chronos Time

To do this we must return to the question of what sort of times we live in today. Life is not as it was 25 years ago. The era of democracy is closer to the other sort of time of which biblical Greek speaks, chronos time. This is measured, not by stark crises and opportunities, but on watches, in diaries, through calendars. Politically speaking, we mark the returning seasons of elections, party congresses, annual budgets and each new tax year.

Leadership in such a time is far less about grasping pivotal moments (though these may still arise) – and far more about persevering for the long haul. It is less about heroes of the hour – it is more about those who are prepared to put in the long hard grind, and steadfastly hold to their goals, their principles, their values, as the ups and downs of life roll steadily on. Chronos times call for ethical leaders who will keep on upholding the highest standards in public and private life, day by day by day: leaders who have demonstrated that they have earned and deserve our trust – and to whom we can look to lead and guide us through the evolving changes and challenges of our country.

We need people of determination and persistence, on whom we can rely, on the long and often daunting journey we still have to make, to continue moving from the oppression of the past to a country of true equality for all – not just the equality of a ballot-paper for every adult, but the equality of economic justice and fair opportunity for everyone. This is the destination for which we strive.

The Right Goals of Human Living

In this respect, the goals of kairos and chronos are much the same. Ethical leadership should always direct us towards providing a better context for human beings, as individuals, and within society, to live well – to flourish. By flourishing, I do not mean that we are all entitled to an opulent lifestyle. Not at all! Indeed, we know in theory – even if we have not acknowledged it yet in our behaviour – that our planet cannot sustain 6 billion people pursuing the capitalist, consumerist lifestyle which the advertising world implies is our right!

Human flourishing is something far more fundamental – and must be open to everyone. This is why we also use the term ‘the common good’. It is rooted in what it essentially means to be human, and what, in such terms, are our basic human rights. These begin with a necessary standard of material well-being – adequate food and clean water, housing, clothing, health-care and so forth; with particular provision for the very young, the very old, the sick and disabled, and other vulnerable individuals unable to look after themselves. They also include access to decent education, which opens up opportunities for employment, and brings each of us the dignity of having some choice in our own destinies. The common good also entails a stable, safe, just, society which accords everyone respect materially, emotionally, spiritually, intellectually.

Now, if you are wide awake, by now you might have spotted that I have just described human existence as encompassing heart and soul and mind and physical embodiment. I hope this has reminded you of words of Jesus, who said that humanity is created ‘to love God, with all our hearts, minds, souls and strength’. This is, he said, the first commandment of being human – being created by God in his image. More than this, God further dignified the human person through the incarnation of the second person of the Trinity – or, in less theological language, God became a human person in Jesus Christ.

Thus every human individual, without exception, is intrinsically deserving of being treated with dignity and respect – indeed, with honour akin to that due to God himself. And creation – the planet and all life on it – must also be treated with the reverence and care that is due to the handiwork of God.

The teachings of Jesus give further instruction on how we should live – doing to others as we would have them do to us. This principle, often known as the Golden Rule, is of course shared among those of many faiths, and none. This attitude underlies the second great commandment – that we should love our neighbours as ourselves. We should direct our lives towards ensuring that others are in receipt of what we would like for ourselves – especially where those others face any sort of need or vulnerability.

Within this ethical context of mutuality and reciprocity, Jesus came, he said, to bring ‘life in abundance’. Therefore this ‘abundant life’ cannot possibly be understood as the affluence only of some, at the expense of others. Abundant life consists in the fair and equitable availability of the material, spiritual, emotional and intellectual provisions which I have outlined. Ethical leadership must promote all this – in both the crises of our lives, and daily routine; in both kairos time and chronos time.

One does not have to share the underlying Christian reasoning, to share in this conviction. Our own Constitution, in making provision of equitable space for everyone, no matter what our beliefs, reaches the same conclusions. Intrinsic human worth, lived out and enjoyed by individuals and in community, is the right of every citizen, every resident within our borders. And it is the responsibility of our nation’s leaders to guarantee it, through the policies set by politicians and administered by public servants – and, where necessary, through the legal system where these fail.

While secular human rights theory may root itself in very different principles, its conclusions are sufficiently close to Biblical concepts of appropriate human flourishing for there to be fertile common ground for collaboration in forwarding these goals. Whatever our religious or philosophical starting point, we can always begin a conversation around the essential question of what it is to be human and to live decently; and how we achieve it more fully for our population.

Furthermore, in such conversations, we increasingly have no option within this globalising world of ours, but to recognise that our obligation to be ‘good neighbours’, in promoting reciprocal flourishing, applies not only to those near by, but to all across space and time – whether those who share our global village today, or those who will inherit our legacy in generations to come; and this must include responsible care of our environment. In consequence, since human well-being encompasses every aspect of human existence, there is no reason to consider that faith communities should confine themselves to promoting the common good in some artificially defined ‘private realm’ while the public sector is left to its own devices.

Kairos Theologies and Chronos Theologies

However, since not everyone agrees the voices of religious communities should legitimately be heard in the public space, perhaps I should give a little more justification. In doing so I want to draw on lessons from the crises of our kairos past and apply them to the chronos of democracy.

Earlier I mentioned that the Kairos Document identified three theological approaches – state theology, church theology and prophetic theology. Each, I shall now argue, finds new forms in our changed circumstances – but the dangers of the first two, and the challenges of the third, remain with us, even if we must learn to recognise them with new eyes.

State Theology

The Kairos Document described how the apartheid state used Scripture and theological concepts to justify racism, untrammelled capitalism and totalitarianism. Using the Bible this way (and I quote) ‘blesses injustice, canonises the will of the powerful and reduces the poor to passivity, obedience and apathy’ (unquote).

The starting point for this was a passage from St Paul’s letter to the Romans, chapter 13, which begins with these verses:

‘Let every person be subject to the governing authorities; for there is no authority except from God, and those authorities that exist have been instituted by God. Therefore whoever resists authority resist what God has appointed, and those who resist will incur judgement…for it is God’s servant for your good’ (Rom 13:1-2, 4).

Taken literally and superficially, these verses do indeed seem to offer an absolute and divine legitimacy to any state; to offer justification for any form of ‘law and order’ required to maintain that state and its rulers; and to condemn anyone who stands against them.

But there is truth in the saying that ‘any text without a context is a pretext’. We cannot just rip verses out of the Scriptures to suit ourselves, without taking into account everything else that lies between the covers of our Bibles. Therefore, as the Kairos Document pointed out, we must also pay attention to the many examples of God’s people and God’s prophets standing up against oppressive rulers and unjust state practices.

Even the quote from St Paul begs the question of whether a particular authority really is acting as ‘God’s servant for the good’ of its citizens, as it is called to do. Today we recognise that apartheid was fundamentally opposed to the purposes of God, of abundant life and the full breadth of opportunity for human flourishing open to all.

But what of our current democratic system? The preamble of our Constitution ends ‘May God protect our people’ and then the words ‘God bless South Africa’ are repeated in many of our languages. And its provisions, especially in Chapter 2, the Bill of Rights, closely mirror the essentials of human existence which I have outlined.

Does this mean that the words of St Paul wholly apply? – that government can expect its citizens to unreservedly support whatever they do; and especially the ANC and its partners, since they were the ones who brought in this new political era? Should faith communities let government get on with the business of politics, and stick to matters of worship and personal piety? Is our task the so-called ‘moral regeneration’ of the country, only coming into the public arena to denounce crime, and argue that the laws of the land must be upheld unquestioningly by all?

Well, all this would be to fall into very much the same trap of ‘state theology’ as before, even if our context is so changed. A good Constitution gives no one a ‘divine right’ to rule! Government must not expect the religious sector and other struggle partners merely to offer unconditional support in this new era. Nor can they unilaterally set the agenda for dealing with the faith communities, through bodies such as the National Religious Leaders Forum, or the National Interfaith Leadership Council – even at times expecting us to be a sort of mouth-piece in support of them, within our own communities. The same is true of other civil society bodies that were partners in the struggle, but who are also now called to act independently for the common good.

For democracy does not mean that instead of an unrepresentative minority holding all the power and wielding it in its own interests, another minority – though technically representative of the majority – gets to do the same instead. Democracy is a completely different way of doing politics: where everyone has a voice. We must all hold one another accountable to the highest aspirations of our Constitution, and to the vision of common good and human flourishing that underlies it.

Government must expect critique – and the rest of us must offer it – because open, honest, transparent policy making, and free debate around it, are the best way of seeing the issues, analysing the needs, and formulating and delivering effective policies to address them. It goes without saying – but I will say it anyway – that the so-called Protection of Information Bill is a disgrace to our democratic aspirations.

Leadership – whether of coalition partners or opposition political parties, of academia, of the media, of civil society organisations, and of the faith communities, must always be directed towards this goal. When government are working clearly towards these objectives, we must support them – and when they fall short, then we must offer the sort of critique that insists they move in a better direction, and helps them do so.

Church Theology

This brings challenges not only to the state’s understanding of itself and the leadership role it plays within democracy, but also to the way the Churches, the faith communities, and others, comprehend our role in these new times.

In the extreme conditions of 25 years ago, the Kairos Document criticised mainstream churches and their leaderships for being too limited, too cautious in their critique of the state – despite understanding apartheid to be wrong. Rather than engaging in in-depth analysis of the ‘signs of the times’, there was too much reliance upon superficial and uncritical application of a few stock ideas derived from Christian tradition. In particular the Churches’ right desire for peace and reconciliation was not adequately matched with demands for justice, repentance and change. There was too much emphasis on individual morality and not enough on just social, economic and political systems and practices. Sometimes it was merely the case that those in leadership in government and in the faith communities, were just too close to one another, with shared backgrounds, lifestyles, and social connections.

But, including through the influence of the Kairos Document, Churches increasingly came to work closely with others in the struggle; and today there are many lasting personal ties across society. Often religious and civil society leaders, politicians and business people bump into each other on political occasions, at sporting events, in social gatherings, even on aeroplanes. We are members of the same extended families. Our children go to the same schools. We all benefit from the opportunities available to the middle and upper economic classes: enjoying our nice suburbs, shopping at Woolies and Pick ‘n’ Pay and then going home to watch DSTV or surf the internet; and sharing our shock at the scandals revealed on Carte Blanche or in the Mail and Guardian.

But what are we actually doing to make a difference where it matters, to support those for whom all this is unimaginable luxury? It is not surprising that religious leaders face accusations that in seeing ourselves as ‘critical friends’ of government, we have often been far too friendly and nowhere near critical enough. True, we stood shoulder to shoulder together in the struggle, in our shared desire for human flourishing. But now we need to ensure that human flourishing, rather than sharing in the struggle, important though it was, remains the central issue.

This should be clear, if we only read the Constitution, or return to the pages of the Bible. It is implicit in Jesus’ own self-understanding, that he came to bring good news to the poor, and liberty to the oppressed (Lk 4:18) – no matter what form impoverishment and oppression take, whether in material or spiritual terms, or emotional well-being, or the structures of society. It is far more explicit in some of the Old Testament prophets, who, in their condemnation of self-serving and corrupt leaders, continually warn religious leaders against being compromised in their association with power and influence.

For example, the prophet Micah declares: ‘Its rulers give judgement for a bribe; its priests teach for a price; its prophets give oracles for money; yet they lean upon the Lord and say “Surely the Lord is with us, no harm shall come upon us!”’ (Mic 3:11).

There is warning for South Africans here. We often speak of God’s blessing in bringing us into a new era without a bloodbath – but we cannot take God’s blessing into the future for granted, if we are not ready to be his instruments to ensure his blessing on all.

Prophetic Theology

Let me now turn to what the Kairos Document has to say about Prophetic Theology – the sort of theology it advocated for that time of crisis, and which we now must appropriate for our own era.

Given that I am in a university, a place of study and learning, let me read the following key passage: ‘Prophetic theology differs from academic theology because, whereas academic theology deals with all biblical themes in a systematic manner and formulates general Christian principles and doctrines, prophetic theology concentrates on those aspects of the Word of God that have an immediate bearing upon the critical situation in which we find ourselves.’

This is a warning to all of us who love theological studies – and also for all who major, academically and professionally, in political studies or economics or social sciences or any other discipline that relates to the life of the world!

The message is this – where does the rubber hit the road? Where does our studying connect with the needs of those for whom the coming of democracy has not brought abundant life, freedom of choice, human flourishing?

This is the crunch for ethical leadership. We, who have positions of authority and influence may indeed generally find ourselves in a chronos context – working through stable structures of governance and democracy. But we must do so in the service of those who still live with kairos urgency – in crisis times of inadequate food, shelter, clothing, health-care, education, and so much more that we take for granted. Even clean water from the tap! I was shocked to learn recently that the Department of Water and Environmental Affairs acknowledges that in South Africa over 100 children may die daily from diarrhoeal diseases, largely a result of poor water and sewage provisions. It is so basic – so why do we not address such fundamentals with far, far, greater urgency?

The greatest risks of leadership today are not of missing the window of opportunity – they are more often about complacency. Yet it takes strong, courageous, committed individuals to provide the leadership of integrity necessary for these times of so-called normality. This is leadership often behind the scenes, over years; content to proceed through small gains achieved through steady perseverance, not one-off great and decisive victories; without the adrenalin of the moment, with little promise of glory in the public eye.

But, if we are not to fall back into the traps of ‘church theology’, and the thinly disguised patronising attitudes with which it so often unwittingly comes, we must do more than merely work ‘on behalf of’ those we consider less well off than ourselves, within existing systems and practices. We need to turn the uncompromising eye of the prophet on these also, and ask ‘Whose interests do they primarily serve?’ Are we content with political, economic and social structures that are more geared to upholding our own comfortable lives, than to delivering human flourishing to those who most lack it?

Of course, this may not be popular with voters who aspire to the comfortable life! But once one has achieved even very modest levels of material well-being, more money is no guarantee of increased happiness, as studies increasingly show. We need to change the debate, as Pope Benedict attempted to do in his visit to Britain last month. He posed to young people the challenging question, ‘What sort of society do you want?’

There is far more to life than individualism and conspicuous consumption. Attempting to define ourselves by our wealth and what we buy, or though our status and influence, will not bring deep or lasting satisfaction.

Leaders of our Times

Nor is this what leadership is about. True leadership is not for the personal gain of those involved – an opportunity to maximise the benefits for oneself and one’s family and friends. It is not about 15 minutes of fame – like a prize supermarket dash, where one races through the aisles trying to stuff as much as possible into one’s trolley before one’s time is up.

Whether we find ourselves in politics, in business, in academia, in the media, in civil society organisations, or the faith communities: leadership must be about serving the interests of the nation as a whole – and especially the needs of those who still do not have access to the basic necessities of a good life. This is the leadership of servanthood – to put our lives on the line, for the wellbeing of others.

We have seen one of the most remarkable examples of this in Luis Urzúa, the leader of the 33 Chilean miners trapped underground. He held them all together, especially during the terrible 17 days before contact was made – days when death seemed closer than life. He provided the structure, focus, and discipline they needed, so that every single one was supported through the crisis. The strength of his character was such that it came as little surprise to learn he would be the last one of the 33 out of the mine. How many of our political leaders would show such selflessness, I wonder?

Yet we should not just imagine that he was a man of the moment who sprang from nowhere to meet this crisis. He had been a miner for three decades – three decades during which he developed the habits of behaviour and character which earned the trust and the respect of his colleagues. And when crisis came – he was ready to step up: and others recognised and followed his lead.

Madiba too, spent his long apprenticeship in jail – which shaped him for the pivotal task of leading us into a new era. And of course, the same is true of 'the Arch', Desmond Tutu, whom we honour in this lecture. We should form our lives through the same commitment to a life of doing what is right, in the right way, for the right reasons, in the service of humanity now and through the future of our planet.

We must do so as individuals, and corporately – for example, the ANC and other political parties must come to see servant leadership of the nation as the vocation of the whole party, and not merely of leaders acting as individuals. Furthermore, we must choose our leaders not on the basis of their connections – but on their fitness for office, in terms of both qualifications and experience, and of character and track record. It must be normative to expect the highest values, the truest morals, the best standards, and to see congruence between public and private lives.

Conclusion

Let me end with a challenge to all of you here today. Each one of you has the opportunity to be a leader – perhaps not in big or public ways. But all of you, through the choices you make or fail to make, will influence people around you – for good or for bad. My challenge to you is to be the best, ethical, servant leaders that you can be – directing your lives for the good of all, in the little things of life, and sustaining that commitment through whatever life brings your way. This is the sort of thing the LEAD-SA campaign is promoting, and I support it wholeheartedly.

And then, when opportunities arise – through the long slog of life or through moments of pivotal change – you will be the ones who are best placed to take them, and shape this country so that it can truly be a place where every person can flourish and live an abundant life. There can be no greater aspiration in life. May God bless you as you pursue this goal, and make you a blessing to others.

Monday, 19 July 2010

Doubting Thomas or Questioning Thomas?

An edited version of the sermon preached for the Patronal Festival of St Thomas' Church, Rondebosch.

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

Today we have the opportunity to honour St Thomas with proper attention. St Thomas really is a fascinating character. It is only recently that I have come to appreciate how much we have to learn from him, in the twenty-first century.

‘Doubting Thomas’ we call him – because of the of the account we heard of his response to the other disciples’ report that they had seen the risen Jesus – the Jesus who most certainly had been crucified, dead and buried. And yes, he had his doubts, because, as we know, resurrection is impossible.

But I think that labelling him ‘doubting Thomas’ is giving him an unfair press. I think we should rather call him ‘questioning Thomas’, and see him as a good role model for ourselves, and an encouragement not to shy away from difficult issues. And as such, he is certainly someone whose example we need to take very seriously in our contemporary, multifaith, pluralist, and often very secular world.

Let me explain. Thomas is mentioned in all three of the synoptic gospels – Matthew, Mark and Luke – among the twelve appointed by Jesus to be his apostles. Those gospels do not mention him again. But in St John’s gospel, there are three different occasions when Thomas is mentioned. And his presence makes a significant contribution to our understanding of who Jesus is, and what was to happen to him.

The first occasion is in Chapter 11. Jesus had been hounded out of Jerusalem, and crossed the Jordan. News arrives from Mary and Martha in Bethany that Lazarus is ill. Jesus says to the disciples ‘Let us return to Judea’ – that is, to Bethany and the immediate vicinity of Jerusalem. The disciples, unsurprisingly, respond ‘Rabbi, the Jews were just now trying to stone you, and you are going there again?’ But Jesus insists, and speaks of Lazarus being woken from sleep – then refers explicitly to Lazarus’ death. ‘Let us go to him’ says Jesus – and it is Thomas who responds ‘Let us also go, that we may die with him.’

This is not the stance of a man who has fragile faith, or wavering loyalty. This is someone who has clearly read the signs of the times. He knows that if Jesus returns to Jerusalem, the odds are that he will be killed – and his followers risk the same fate. But such is his devotion to Jesus that he is prepared to go too; and encourages his colleagues to do the same.

He has made a level-headed judgement about what is at stake – his life indeed – and fully aware, fully knowing, he makes his wholehearted commitment to keep following Jesus. Well, that is certainly something where we can learn from Thomas, and follow his example.

Our second encounter with Thomas is in Chapter 14 of St John’s Gospel, at the Last Supper. Jesus has washed the disciples’ feet, and called on them to serve one another in the same way. After Judas’ departure, Jesus begins to tell them that he will shortly leave them, and they cannot follow. Then come those famous words that we so often hear read at funerals:

Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, so that where I am, there you may be also. And you know the way to the place where I am going (Jn 14:1-4)

Now, in the previous verses, Simon Peter had already asked Jesus where he was going – and I doubt this explanation left him any much clearer. But it is Thomas who dares to ask the question that I am sure was on the mind of all the disciples. ‘Lord, we do not know where you are going, so how can we know the way?’ And he receives that marvellous response ‘I am the way, and the truth and the life.’

What I particularly like about Thomas is his honesty. He was honest and level-headed as he judged the risks of returning to Jerusalem. And he spoke about them starkly, not glossing over them. Now he is honest in speaking up when he does not understand. He is not afraid to face the issue head on, and ask questions about it: ‘What is going on here? What are you saying, Lord? How am I to understand you?’

If he had never dared to ask the question, I wonder whether Jesus would ever have uttered those words – I am the way, the truth and the life – which have been a source of comfort, strength, guidance, to so many of us over the centuries since? So, we must say Thank You to Thomas, for daring to seek this clarification on behalf of the rest of the disciples, on behalf of all the followers of Jesus of subsequent centuries.

It is his preparedness to be blunt in this way that earns him his unfair nickname of Doubting Thomas through his third appearance in St John’s Gospel – our reading this morning. We do not know why Thomas was not with the rest of the disciples on that first Easter Sunday evening. Gallons of ink have been spilled speculating that it was some lack of solidarity and commitment on his part – though that doesn’t seem to fit with the Thomas of whom we read in Chapter 11. Perhaps he was the only one brave enough to go outside, to balance the risks, and judge that he could handle it, while the rest hid together behind locked doors, ‘for fear of the Jews’.

I doubt we will ever know the reason. But, as so often happens, if we are prepared to let it, God uses the little circumstances of life as opportunities to reveal the truths we need to know. And so, luckily for us, if not for him, Thomas was not there when Jesus appeared to the disciples, saying ‘Peace be with you’ and showing them his hands and his side. The disciples then tell Thomas that they have seen the risen Lord. And he asks the question that people have asked in every generation since – whether openly or in their hearts.

He asks the question to which we all need a good answer. ‘How do you know that you saw the risen Lord? How do you know it was not a ghost, not an illusion, not a corporate delusion that you cooked up together in your highly emotional state?’ Like any of us today, when we hear an unlikely story, he wants proof; he wants irrefutable physical evidence. Is that so bad?

St Paul warns Christians against being gullible, or misled, by false teachings or claims that Jesus has returned here or there. We are to test the spirits – not everyone who claims to speak in the name of the Lord is accurately doing so. Thomas certainly was not gullible – and therefore, he is our man, whenever we have doubts about the resurrection. He is the forensic expert who gives the measured testimony, that we trust because we know he is not a man to be fooled – he has the living encounter with the living Lord.

And he finds that he is overwhelmed by the experience – the mere presence of Jesus is more than enough, without him needing actually to feel, to touch, for himself. He can see with his own eyes – the physical truth is right before him, and so is the more profound spiritual truth to which it points. ‘My Lord and my God!’ And we are blessed, though we have not seen, because we can trust in the testimony of Thomas, who was there for us, asking the difficult, but necessary, questions.

Thomas is a wonderful saint for the church in our time – a time of much scepticism, but also of many genuine questions about what it is to be a person of faith today. Contemporary society raises lots of questions for us, and it would be dishonest to pretend it is not so. It is also dishonest – intellectually dishonest, emotionally dishonest – if we deny that within ourselves we also often have questions.

One of the great strengths of the Anglican faith is that it tells us we must look to Scripture, but interpret it guided by reason and tradition. This means we do not take refuge in simplistic application of Scripture, as if it were to be understood literally at all points, and that to ask questions is to have a lack of faith. But it does not mean that we toss the Bible aside if we cannot find an immediate clear response to the situations that face us. No, God gave us the Bible, and he also gave us brains, and he expects us to use them! More than this, he also promises to help us use them better.

For example, St Paul says in his letter to the Romans, ‘Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God’ (Rom 12:2). And St James assures us, ‘If any of you is lacking in wisdom, ask God, who gives to all generously and ungrudgingly, and it will be given to you’ (Jas 1:5). And of course, Jesus himself promised us that ‘When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all truth’ (Jn 16:13).

This is how we are to read scripture, and wrestle with faith, with the greatest possible integrity that we can muster. We read Scripture asking, ‘What do we learn here about God, about his dealings with the world, about the principles of Christian life?’ And then we can grapple honestly, seriously, with matters that are not directly addressed within the Bible – questions raised by modern technology; medical ethics; business practices; political policy-making; xenophobia …

We may be faced with other, more personal challenges – not least the difficult questions about why some people suffer so much; why there is such injustice and inequality in society; and why life doesn’t always come easy to good people.

The glib answers that some people give often fail to provide an adequate response to meet the deep concerns that people have in these areas. Let us face the hard questions honestly. It is through not being afraid to ask difficult questions that the Church came to realise that slavery was wrong; and to understand that the Bible has far more to say about the equal place of women alongside men within the body of Christ than a superficial reading might suggest.

Both St Paul and the writer of the letter to the Hebrews speak of the need for Christians to grow beyond ‘spiritual milk’ and move on to ‘solid food’ (1 Cor 3:2, Heb 5:13,14). Milk is something we swallow whole – solid food requires chewing. St Thomas encourages us not to be afraid of chewing on all that the Bible has to say for us; on all that Christian tradition over two thousand years has to offer us; on all the questions and the insights and the challenges that the world today has to put before us.

We do not have to protect God from difficult questions, by denying their existence, by saying that all doubt is wrong. No, asking honest questions is the sort of doubt, doubting with integrity, which the Church needs; and which every Christian needs if we are to mature in faith.

So let us do as Thomas did, and bring to Jesus the difficult questions, the things that trouble us, the areas where we know our understanding is lacking. Then, like Thomas, we will find that he is the one who truly is the ‘the Way, the Truth and the Life’. And we shall come to know for ourselves the fulness of Jesus promise, ‘you will know the Truth, and the Truth will set you free’ (Jn 8:32). And, like Thomas, we can bow before him, knowing that in every area of our life, no matter what our questions, our doubts, our fears, Jesus truly is, ‘Our Lord, and our God’. Amen