Sermon of Thanksgiving - Prince Mangosuthu Buthelezi

This is an edited version of the sermon preached in Ulundi on 26 August 2013, at the service of thanksgiving to mark the 85th birthday of Prince Mangosuthu Buthelezi

1 Corinthians 3:11-14
For no one can lay any foundation other than the one that has been laid; that foundation is Jesus Christ. Now if anyone builds on the foundation with gold, silver, precious stones, wood, hay, straw— the work of each builder will become visible, for the Day will disclose it, because it will be revealed with fire, and the fire will test what sort of work each has done. If what has been built on the foundation survives, the builder will receive a reward.

May I speak in the name of God, our firm foundation and our true reward.

Today is truly a day of great celebration and thanksgiving! Thank you, for the privilege of being the one who gets to stand here now, and voice our joy, and our appreciation. First, my dear Prince, my friend – we congratulate you on your birthday, tomorrow. And we congratulate you also on this splendid statue.

It is of course to the statue itself that our eyes are drawn. Yet, if we pause to reflect, we realise that it could stand there, so impressive and so imposing, if it did not rest upon a solid, stable, firm foundation. And of course, exactly the same is true of you, my Prince, in real life. So, as we give thanks today for your long life, we also give thanks to the one who is faithful to all his children, whose steadfast love for each one of us never ceases.

We thank God that, so many years ago, at the knee of your mother, Princess Magogo, herself a staunch and faithful Anglican, he planted within you the seeds of faith. We thank him that throughout the years since, he has nourished that seed, giving you the gift of faith so you could grow in his love, and bear much fruit. We thank God that he has walked with you, in all the challenges of your life – from the public, political, sphere, through to the way you pursued family life, upholding the pattern of Christian marriage with your wife, and later in the sorrow and pain of losing children.

We thank God for the grace and courage which he gave you, to speak so frankly about the effects of HIV and AIDS on your family – especially at a time when there was so much stigma and such conspiracies of silence. These were issues for which our churches had to bear some of the responsibility. Your honest speaking [especially your heart-breaking words at the funeral of Princess Mandisi] was the task of a prophetic leader – someone who speaks God’s truth so others may see life as it truly is. You helped take forward the public discourse of the nation, when it was sorely needed. And you encouraged the Church to move more decisively into a place of speaking and acting with greater honesty and compassion. The whole nature of how we deal with HIV and AIDS in our country is now completely changed – and though it is an uphill struggle, the signs are that we can move in the right direction, if we persevere. For this we thank you.

The stance which you took on this issue illustrates for me one of the key messages of our reading today from St Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians. This reminds us that the true value of what we say and do rests with God. It does not matter what we achieve – or what we fail to achieve – in the eyes of the world. Earthly money, and power, and status, and popularity are neither here nor there as far as Heaven is concerned. Yet what God judges to be important, has eternal significance. What we say and do today, that is right in his eyes, is like a pebble thrown into the pond of eternity. The ripples have effect that lasts for ever.

And this can be a source of great courage for us – to stand up and speak out what is right and true, no matter whether it goes against the grain, either in society or within the Church. Dear Prince – here, I have learnt something from you! I have known your family since 1984-85, when Prince Zuzi and I met and became friends in our student days. Since becoming Archbishop, I have had the privilege of getting to know you better. I was deeply touched by the message you sent me when I was elected, and that you have continued to remain in touch. Over the years, I have been grateful for your hospitality (especially on my visit here 4 years ago), and for your support, in more ways than I can count.

But when it comes to speaking out, I shall not forget your wise advice – which you may recall, from that occasion when we were both sharing a stage with F W de Klerk. You warned me then, ‘Your Grace – never speak without reading from your text. For otherwise, the press are bound to misquote you, and make a feast out of it.’ Well, I have taken that to heart – at least, most of the time. But I hope you will forgive an Archbishop who at least sometimes finds he must speak from the heart, and from the soul!

And I am confident that you will understand this, for I know very well that your heart and soul are more than merely in balance with your head! For I know you best for your great laughter, and your courage – a word that comes from the Latin for ‘heart’. And I know you for your love – of your people, and your God, and his Church.

It was right and fitting that the Anglican Church should award you the Order of St Simon of Cyrene, our highest accolade to lay people. For, despite the many and weighty demands on your time, you have been a faithful servant of the church in many capacities over long years – including at the historic 1963 Anglican Congress in Toronto. You have also been a regular participant in Diocesan and Provincial Synods, and served our church in many other capacities. In addition, of course, you have been a devoted lay-minister, with long service at St Mary’s. All of these, I know, will withstand the test of fire.

More than this, I thank you for the way you have shown how the life of faith informs and helps shape a life spent in the public spotlight. You challenge others to explore how Christ calls us all to servant leadership. As we look at your life, we too must never forget that whatever earthly power and authority we may have, always finding its true identity in the greater power and authority which comes from our Lord and Saviour, the Servant King. We too must never forget that to stand firm, to stand tall, we also must stand on the one sure foundation, who is Jesus Christ – and then build faithfully with whatever material he gives us; using whatever opportunities come our way to serve him and serve his people and his world.

St Paul tells us that when we build on the true foundation, we shall receive the reward. And of course the reward is Jesus Christ himself: knowing what it is to be united with him in all the greatness of his love, and receiving in full measure all that he has won for us, in this life and in the life to come.

Therefore today, it is with overflowing hearts, that we give thanks to God for his loving presence among us – for all he does for us, and especially for all he has done for you, and through you, my friend. We bless his holy name for the gift that he has made you to so many, over such long years. And we ask, with confidence, that he will continue to bless you, preserve you, and keep you, in the years ahead, and for always. Amen.

News from New Zealand - 9

Monday 5 November - I do not do well with farewells. Today I kept humming quietly to myself the Lord’s Prayer, which was sung by the choir at St Paul’s Cathedral yesterday. It was sung in Maori, slowly and with deep meaning. I hummed this throughout the day as if protecting myself from what I knew was coming at Evening Prayer tonight. It was the last address by Rowan Williams, Archbishop of Canterbury, as President of the Anglican Consultative Council, at his last ACC meeting as Archbishop.

The moment arrived. We were all overcome by a welter of emotions. He spoke from the heart and it was hard. When he offered the blessing, my eyes were too heavy and my heart as well, and my ears could not hear the words.

Archbishop Rowan spoke about authority: about enabling, life-giving authority, and corrective, reactive, authority within the Communion. (You can read more detailed coverage of his address at http://www.anglicancommunion.org/acns/news.cfm/2012/11/5/ACNS5233, and follow the link to the audio-podcast that will soon be online.) I just wanted to record the sense of joy and gratitude for having had the privilege of having worked with him as the Archbishop of Canterbury, ever since I became bishop suffragan right through until now; and also to acknowledge the deep and heavy heart of saying good bye to him as Archbishop. I have been so enriched, and so touched, by listening to his reflections, both to the ‘pins in the skin’ that the office has inflicted on him, and equally to his sense of joy for having served; and his deep gratitude for, and acknowledgement of, the support of others and God's grace that has seen him through. He is a wonderful example to all in Christian leadership.

Let me just repeat the words I said in March, when we learnt that Archbishop Rowan would step down at the end of the year:
“My heart is very full at the news that Dr Rowan Williams will stand down at the end of this year. We in the Anglican Communion, and indeed the wider world, have been inordinately privileged to have such an able theologian and deeply spiritual thinker, as Archbishop of Canterbury over the last decade. He has exercised remarkable gospel-shaped leadership during tumultuous times for our Communion, in which his commitment to consensus seeking, rooted in his refusal to take quick and easy solutions that fail to address the more fundamental issues, has shown great courage and deeply profound rootedness in the faith to which we are called. Again and again he has returned us to the central questions of whose we are, and for whom we are to be – in loving, faithful, obedient, service of God, of God’s church, and of God’s world. I look forward to the fresh contribution he will be able to make in coming years to the Christian voice in the public space, as he moves to Cambridge.
“I personally, and we in the Anglican Church of Southern Africa, will miss him very much. He has been a great friend to us, and especially to me when I was first appointed Archbishop and learning the ropes. As Southern Africans we say he is ‘Truly Umtu’, someone who lives and embodies the fullness of ubuntu – that it is through others we find our own humanity, umuntu ngumuntu ngabantu. We wish him, his wife Jane, and children Rhiannon and Pip, great joy and blessing during the rest of their time at Lambeth Palace, and in the new chapter of life that lies ahead. They have the assurance of our fondest love and prayers in the coming months. “

Today that same love, those same prayers, for Rowan and Jane, are echoing in me deeply, and I know I shall continue to carry them in my heart and before God as I return home. Please join my prayers for these beloved servants of God.

A Sermon for Dedication Sunday and the Celebration of the Feast of All Saints

The following sermon was preached at St George's Cathedral, Cape Town, on 31 October 2010, Dedication Sunday, on which the Feast of All Saints was also celebrated

Lections: Jeremiah: 31: 31-34; Revelation 7: 2-4, 9-12; Matthew 5: 1-12

May I speak in the name of God, who covenants with his people. Brothers and Sisters in Christ, dear people of God of St George’s Cathedral – it is good to be with you once again, this Dedication Sunday. As well as concluding our month of reflections on Stewardship of all the gifts God gives us, we also celebrate the feast of All Saints – rejoicing that God calls each one of us to be his child, to live in covenant love with him.

Covenant is the most wonderful picture of God’s commitment to his creation, and to humanity, made in God’s image. The Bible has a great number of covenants. Some are promises between individuals, like Jacob and his father-in-law Laban (Gen 31:44) or David and Jonathan (1 Sam 23:18). Some covenants are mutually binding treaties between kings and nations, as between Abraham and King Abimelech (Gen 21:27).

Marriage, too, is of course a covenant. You have perhaps heard the joke about the rector who took the vows of marriage so seriously that he had 16 wives – for/four better, for worse, for richer, for poorer … Of course, these promises indicate our commitment that, no matter what happens to us, no matter what life brings our way, we will do our best to stay together and strive to stick it out ‘till death us do part’.

But human covenanting is just a reflection of the promises that God makes to us. God makes an everlasting covenant with individuals, such as Abram – promising that he will have numerous descendants (Gen 17) – and in response, Abram becomes Abraham and is circumcised – the sign that he too is party to God’s covenant. God also makes covenants with peoples, as he does through Moses at Sinai, with the Hebrew nation – a covenant to which he returns, again and again, even though ancient Israel failed to uphold their side of the covenant.

And because of such failings, God promises a New Covenant – the covenant of which we heard in our first lesson, from the prophet Jeremiah; the new covenant that is fulfilled by Jesus, who speaks at the Last Supper of it being made in his own body and blood, as he institutes the Eucharist. I will come onto this New Covenant in a moment.

But first I want to go back to the earliest, and broadest, of God’s covenant – the covenant he makes with Noah, and with all of creation, after the great flood. Most of you know the story of Noah: God regrets he ever created wicked and degenerate humankind – with the exception of faithful Noah. God tells Noah to make an ark, a great boat, in which Noah and his family and two of every kind of animal take refuge. A flood then destroys all other living things. After the flood subsides, God warns Noah and his sons not to shed human life – for humanity bears the image of God – and God adds, ‘I am establishing my covenant with you and your descendents, and with every living creature … never again shall there be a flood to destroy the earth … and this is the sign of my covenant: the rainbow.’

This is a covenant for all of humanity, and for all of creation. From this wonderful story, we can learn three foundational, and everlasting, principles. If you read my sermons and speeches, you will find that these three principles keep on recurring.

First, it is a covenant about the sanctity of human life. Second, it is about the integrity of the created world, for God promises he will never again destroy his creation. And third, it is about the dignity of difference, symbolised by the rainbow. These three principles are the bedrock of the life for which God created us – to live in harmony with one another, and with creation.

People sometimes ask why the church so often supports human rights and promotes good environmental policies. Well, the answer lies there – right near the beginning of the Book of Genesis in the story of Noah and the flood – among the very first dealings of God with humanity. So when you see me on the television, or hear me on the radio, calling for proper housing for everyone, or decent toilets and sanitation; or when (as in this month’s Good Hope) you see pictures of me in my Wellington boots, cleaning up polluted vleis, you can know it is because I read my Bible! The church is not just being sucked in by modern liberal political movements – as some people claim. No, we know that God created humanity in his image, so we might ‘bear fruit’ as it says in Genesis 1 – we should all flourish. We should do so treating every life as sacred; honouring every human person no matter how different, and indeed, seeing our diversity as a gift that enriches us; and we should care for our planet, the beautiful home that God has so generously given to us.

This generosity of God, dear friends, this overwhelming generosity, points us to a very important aspect of covenant. For a covenant is not a contract. In contracts, parties give legal undertakings to effect transactions for reciprocal benefit. In covenants, people bind themselves together, in pledges of faithfulness and loyalty, to promote mutual well-being. The Chief Rabbi of Great Britain spoke about Covenants at the Lambeth Conference, two years ago, and his powerful words still remain with me.

He summed up the differences between covenant and contract in four succinct ways: contracts concern our interests, while covenants concern our identities; contracts deal in transactions, while covenants deal in relationships; contracts benefit, while covenants transform; contracts are about competition – if I win, you lose; while covenants are about cooperation – if I win, you also win. In other words, contracts are dead words on pieces of paper – either party can do the minimum necessary, and absolutely nothing more is required, or expected. But when you come to covenants, you find these are living things – designed for relationships that grow and flourish.

And it is a living, growing, flourishing relationship with us, that God wants – a relationship that is fuelled by inexhaustible love, and by limitless generosity. This is what we find fulfilled in God’s New Covenant. As the prophet Jeremiah says, it is a covenant of the heart. Listen to his beautiful words: The Lord says ‘I shall be your God and you shall be my people.’

This is the definition of what it is to be a saint. I know that sometimes we think of the saints as those who are particularly holy, or who have overcome some particular trial in their faith. But if you read St Paul’s letters carefully, you will find, in the original Greek text, that he writes to the saints in Rome, he writes to the saints in Corinth, he writes to the saints in Philippi, and so forth. So, in other words, St Paul says that all you need to be a saint is to belong to God, to belong to his Church!

This is what we celebrate today. He is our God, and we are his people, and therefore we can rightly speak of ‘all the saints of St George’s Cathedral’! We are the ones who have responded to God’s offer of overflowing love – love shown to us in Jesus Christ. The greatest verses at the heart of the gospel remind us of the centrality of love. ‘God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that all who believe in him should not perish, but have eternal life’ (Jn 3:16). Yes, we, the Saints of St George’s Cathedral, dare to believe in his Son – our Lord and Saviour. As Jesus also said ‘No one has greater love than this – to lay down one’s life for one’s friends’ (Jn 15:13). And Jesus indeed laid down his life, saying ‘this is my blood of the new Covenant, which is shed for you and for many, for the forgiveness of sins’. We shall hear those words again in a short while – as we celebrate the Eucharist, the foretaste of the heavenly banquet where all the saints, all of us, shall be honoured guests!

So, therefore, my question to you this morning is this: what, then, is our response to the limitless generosity of God’s love for us – love that was greater than life itself? Well, you can guess – this is where our stewardship comes in. Our response comes in the shape of our time, our talents, our money – freely given back to God, just as he has freely given to us. And for us too, the heart of the matter should not be about contract, it should be about covenant. For if we have a mindset of contract, we will find that Church giving is a very deadening thing – following the old law of a tithe, and not a cent more. But if we give from a covenant mindset, we will be set free to give with the same love and generosity that knows no bounds. Yes, of course I encourage you to give 10%! But my prayers is that when you give, you will give sacrificially; and that this will prompt you to give with covenant generosity wherever a particular need arises, to which God’s love propels you to respond.

Only in the freedom of the covenant can we find the way to live a life of blessing – to be blessed, and to be a blessing to others, we heard in our Gospel reading. So let us live in response to God’s love for us – let us be his saints – let us be his covenant people, sharing life with others as freely as he shared his with us. May it be so. Amen

Mass of Thanksgiving - Fr Michael Lapsley SSM

Note: On 28 April 1990, Father Michael Lapsley, SSM opened a letter bomb. On 1 May 2010 Archbishop Thabo Makgoba preached and Archbishop Desmond Tutu presided at a Mass of thanksgiving for his survival and for all that God has enabled him to do during these last twenty years, including through the Institute for the Healing of Memories, and to pray for all victims of violence and torture.

Readings and Collect from the Feast of St Michael and All Angels: Job 38:1-7; Rev 12:7-12; Mt 18:1-10

May I speak in the name of God, who sends his angels to watch over us.

Well, Fr Michael, you have caused your Archbishop to find himself in a state of confusion! First of all, today is the Feast of St Joseph, but you choose the readings for the Feast of St Michael and All Angels, almost 5 months away – though we do understand that St Michael is the patron saint of the Society of the Sacred Mission. Second, you invite us to a service of thanksgiving. But how are we to greet you? Normally on such an occasion, one would say Happy Birthday, or Happy Anniversary or something similar. But somehow Happy Bombing really does not sound right!

But it certainly is a privilege to be here today. Thank you, Fr Michael, for inviting me to share with you – and with the many people around the world who are holding us in their thoughts and prayers. As the many messages in the service booklet bear witness, we have so very much to give thanks for. We give thanks, dear Fr Michael, for your survival of that terrible deed of premeditated violence, perpetrated upon you twenty years ago by agents from within the apartheid government. So perhaps our greeting is Happy Survival!

And we give thanks that God – through the subversive triumph of the cross and resurrection – has enabled you to turn that act of evil into a stepping stone to redemption: not only in your own life, but to others, through your testimony, through the witness of your living example, and through your vision for the Institute of the Healing of Memories and the work in which you have led it so effectively.

For myself, I give thanks for many years of friendship and collaboration in the gospel which we have shared. I particularly remember the time, 18 years ago, when you stayed with me, and Lungi, my new bride, in the Rectory that had previously been your diocesan offices, Archbishop Tutu. Fr Michael, you should have known the uncertain ways of old church buildings and their plumbing. But you used the spare shower that we had never tried out – and we soon found ‘living water’ seeping through the ceiling of the kitchen, the dining room, the lounge ... No, Lungi and I, will never forget that visit! Thank you also for our partnership as chaplains to Anglican students, where I succeeded you as Provincial; and for the many blessings I have received from the Society, for which I am privileged to be Visitor.

Today I want to reflect on the glorious mysteries of God’s transformative love and power, through which he has turned an act of deliberate hatred and cruelty reflecting all the evil of the apartheid regime, into a beacon of compassion and hope that shines far, far brighter; far, far wider. Around the globe, wherever evil and violence are perpetrated, we know they will not have the final word.

Yet even so, our hearts grieve that brutality and torture still continue today. We do not understand why it is that our all loving, all powerful, heavenly Father, does not step in and thwart such evil in its tracks. Nor do we understand why it is that one man survives devastating explosives, deliberately intended to murder; while a student who walks in on a burglary in his own home, is stabbed to death, as happened in this city two days ago.

The purposes of God are beyond our ability fully to grasp. Job recognised this, when, after wrestling to find answers to his own suffering, he encountered the Lord speaking out of the whirlwind. He received a glimpse into the unknowable – enough to see that there is a whole spiritual realm where ultimate truths of good and evil, life and death, are played out.

There is deep mystery here. We cannot fathom it all – but we can encounter enough to know that it is so, and that, as is recorded in the Revelation to St John, ‘now have come the salvation and the power and the kingdom of our God and the authority of his Messiah’. We do not need to understand – we need only to believe and trust.

As our gospel tells us – we need to become like children: not childish, but child-like. When my children were small, they used to love to run and throw themselves into my arms. They knew I would catch them. They didn’t worry about how, they just trusted that I would not let them fall.

Fr Michael – in your life, you are a vivid challenge to us to do the same, to trust ourselves unconditionally, as little children, into the hands of the living God, who will not let us fall. We do not know what life will bring – I don’t suppose that when you first left New Zealand, you had even the smallest idea of how events would unfold. But you dared to say an unconditional yes to God’s future for you.

Any of us may find that terrible things do happen. But you are a living demonstration of the truth of Romans 8:28 – that ‘all things work together for God for those who love God’. This is not to say that all things are good. By no means. But nothing is so terrible that God cannot work in it for good, if we let him.

Indeed, I want to go further and say, however great the evil, the good that God can bring is greater. Easter shows this. The glory of the resurrection more than trumps the devastation of the cross.

And you, Fr Michael, show us this is true in your life. The good that has followed – because you dared to keep on trusting God as his little child – the good that has followed has been far greater than the evil that began it all.

We thank God for his amazing goodness at work within us all – and especially as we see it displayed in your life, Fr Michael. Therefore, let us in turn entrust ourselves into the hands of God even as we boldly root out mediocrity, corruption, greed, malice, inequality, racism, and anything that undermines, demeans and marginalises God’s people and harms our planet in our lifetime.

So we thank God for his angels that watch over us, and – in the words of the collect – we ask that as they inspire us in our worship, they may also strengthen us as they have strengthened you, dear Fr Michael, in our fight against evil.

Now may the God of peace, who brought back from the dead our Lord Jesus, the great shepherd of the sheep, by the blood of the eternal covenant, equip us for every good work, so that we may always live ‘to the glory of God, in the doing of God’s will’. Amen

Naught for your Comfort Award

While President Zuma has the right to hope South African voters will choose an ANC government ‘until Jesus comes again’, his prediction that that ANC would rule South Africa forever was unfortunate, anachronistic, and potentially dangerous, the Anglican Archbishop of Cape Town has said.

Speaking at the annual Naught for your Comfort Award ceremony held at Sophiatown’s Christ the King Church on Friday evening, Archbishop Thabo Makgoba said that the Constitution’s guarantee of the freedom of religion meant anyone could allot to Jesus whatever role they wished, adding that the churches had no desire to ‘colonise’ Jesus, as some claimed. To speak of ruling ‘until the end of time as we know it’ was a political, rather than religious matter, he said, pointing to the enormous poverty and suffering one-party rule had often brought in Africa. He felt such an attitude reflected a ’1960s or ‘70’s view of our continent’, in contrast to perspectives on democracy and governance recently expressed by the African Union. He warned that the President’s comments risked ‘encouraging those who have a strong stake in – and economic motives for – prolonging ANC rule indefinitely’, even by unconstitutional means.

The Archbishop nonetheless assured the President and his government of his continuing prayers that they might successfully fulfil their promises to tackle poverty, expressing the hope that they might ‘follow the leadership of Jesus Christ, who came not to be served but to serve, and who taught us to put the needs of others before our own’.

Archbishop Makgoba was honoured as the first Rector of the parish of Christ the King, following its restoration to the Anglican Church, in 1997. It had been abandoned, and then sold, in the late 1960s, following population removals. Also honoured were the Smith family, whose generous donation in the 1930s led to the building of the church; Bishop Duncan Buchanan, retired Bishop of Johannesburg, who oversaw the church’s reclamation; and the Community of the Resurrection, which has a long history of supporting the parish and provided many of its earliest rectors. Among these was Trevor Huddleston, after whose book the award is named.

Linking the Award to the scriptural call to ‘Comfort ye, comfort ye, my people’, the Archbishop challenged his hearers to consider what nature such comfort might take in today’s society, wherever people were prevented from flourishing. He said the church should press for God’s justice to be realised in the proper remuneration of health care professionals and funding of the health service, as well as in social grants, education, halting human trafficking and in sustainable development. He also called for politicians to be held accountable, and for greater truth and transparency in government, including in relation to the arms deal.

Issued by the Office of the Anglican Archbishop of Cape Town

Full text of Archbishop Thabo Makgoba’s speech

Honoured guests, ladies and gentlemen, it is a great privilege and pleasure to be with you this evening.

I am honoured to find myself a recipient of the Naught for your Comfort Award – and more than honoured to find myself in such august company as you, Bishop Duncan and Di, and the Smith family, and the Community of the Resurrection. I offer you my congratulations, alongside my own thanks, as a former rector, for all that you have done for this church, and this community, over so many years. Speaking of rectors, may I also express particular thanks to you, Fr Luke, as our host today – and may I congratulate you on your recent appointment to Christ the King, and assure you of my continuing prayers in this new responsibility. If you find yourself even half as much blessed through the life of Christ the King as I was, during my time here, you will be blessed indeed. And I am sure that you will be a blessing to those entrusted to your pastoral care.

Our theme for this Naught for your Comfort Award Lecture, is ‘Social Justice and the Church’. Since I am an archbishop, I hope you will permit me to begin with some words from the Bible, to set the scene for us. When we think of the word ‘Comfort’, I am sure that for most of us, the words that spring first to mind are from the first verse of the fortieth chapter of the book of the Prophet Isaiah – a passage that we read earlier this week as we remembered the birth of John the Baptist. As the King James Version so memorably puts it, ‘Comfort ye, comfort ye, my people, saith the Lord.’

So the question I want to consider this evening, is this: ‘What is the nature of the comfort which the Lord is asking us to share with the community around?’ How does God want us to be channels of his comfort, in Sophiatown here and now, when, to quote further from Isaiah, ‘the term of bondage is served’, or, as another translation puts it, ‘they have suffered long enough’.

Well, the term of bondage ended fifteen years ago, for this country, and twelve years ago for this church, where I was privileged to serve as the first rector after the reclamation of the building. Yes, we suffered – we suffered enough. But now the bondage is over – now we have a new freedom to enjoy. So our first response is one of gratitude.

Indeed, in all of life, gratitude should be our first response – for the gift of life itself; and for the reality of God’s promises, that nothing in all creation can separate us from his love, and that there is no situation so terrible that he cannot work in it for good (Rom 8:28,39).

This surely is a source of sure and certain comfort to us all. We look back, and we see how God worked for good in, and through, and despite, our past. And so, when the present, when the future, seem to threaten, we can proclaim our confidence that God will work for good again, as we once more put out hands in his, and trust in him.

This is the first word of comfort that we can proclaim to our community. Yes, God works in all things for good, if we are prepared to let him – and so we dare to give him thanks, in good times and in bad.

Gratitude is the heart of thanksgiving – and thanksgiving is the essence, and the essential meaning, of the Eucharist: the sustaining meal of remembrance through which God’s presence is made real to us, and we lift up our hearts, and as we are caught up into the worship of heaven. As the Prayer Book tells us, this is the central act of the Church’s worship. In Christ, it is also our eucharist, our thanksgiving, to God, for his inexpressible love in giving his only Son for us: Lamb of God, bearer of our sins, redeemer of the world. It is also our communion – as we receive, in and through the consecrated bread and wine, the benefits of Christ’s sacrifice made once for all, and as we in our turn offer ourselves as living sacrifice to God. Now the Lord takes us and blesses us. He breaks us in renewed surrender and gives us as food for others.

And so we have a two-fold movement: the call to come, ‘draw near, and receive’ – and the summons to move out into a needy world, ‘go in peace to love and serve the Lord’.

Tonight, we are gathered here in recognition that we have been able, in so many different ways, in so many difficult circumstances, to ‘draw near and receive’ – though the life and ministry of Christ the King. We are affirming and acknowledging, very particular channels through whom we have been drawn closer to the Lord, and received from his bounty:

* We thank God for the Smith family, for their generous donation of funds that allowed the building of this house of the Lord, this sacred space, in which so many could find a place to draw near to him

* We thank God for the companionship in the gospel, the Christ-like service, and the spiritual nurturing, that we have received from the Community of the Resurrection, over so many years, in running the Church, and in so many community projects – and especially their faithfulness in some of our darkest years.

* We thank God for Bishop Duncan, who, as our Diocesan Bishop, gave leadership, guidance and encouragement, through the complex and often painful process of reclaiming this church, and who has been a mentor to so many people.

Through them all, so many of us, myself included, drew closer to God, and received his comfort.

In turn, we must now also ‘go out’ from here, sharing the peace of God – sharing the comfort of God – as we love and serve the Lord; as we love and serve his people, his world. And so I want to ask tonight – how are you using these lectures, to help you love and serve God and his world, to help you bring the true comfort of God to those around you, who need it most?

Preparing to come here this evening, I did a little homework. I read the text of Archbishop Njongo’s lecture, of two years ago. I wonder if you remember it. I wonder what you have done about it.

In his book Naught for your Comfort, Archbishop Trevor Huddleston warned us about being caught up in words, words, words – saying something along the lines of ‘I hate words, because the church slumbers while the people suffer.’ Archbishop Trevor took the title ‘Naught for your comfort’ from a poem by G K Chesterton. Two years ago, recollecting this, Archbishop Njongo drew on some other words from Chesterton. These spoke of the importance of understanding our own history, of understanding how we got to this place, this moment – in order to understand better how we can go forward.

Archbishop Njongo spoke about how important lament is, in helping us remember our raw and painful past, in ways that transforms us to a place of ‘hopeful recollection’. So, have you been learning how to lament the pains of the past?

* That time of exile as Sophiatown was destroyed, and the people removed to Meadowlands?

* The years of feeling like the ancient people of Israel, deported to Babylon?

* And this church under what felt like foreign domination, as the Jerusalem Temple was in the time of Isaiah?

* The long wait until you could return, and rebuild, as the Jewish exiles finally did?

What have you learnt from your lamenting? What healing are you finding for this painful history?

And how is lamenting teaching you to walk alongside those who are hurting today – walking as Christ the King walked with us, a king who knows what it is to suffer ‘even unto death on a cross’? What has your experience been of following Archbishop Njongo’s call to intentionality in recollecting, in order to create bridges of hope for the future? Or, as Chesterton would put it, What new understandings of the past are you learning, so you can better go forward?

I know that I have been changed in the years since I was Rector here.

In those days when the pain was still so raw, I preached often from the radical experiences of the liberation theologians, who used the images of Jewish Exodus and Promised Land, and of exile and return, very powerfully in their understanding of the God who stands with us in our woundedness, wherever we may be – and yet who ultimately promises to bring us home.

Now we are home – we do not deny our past, but we are not its prisoners. We live in a context where the bondage is over, and God’s comfort has been made real to us. It is our turn to be channels of his comfort.

I am finding this in my own ministry – challenged to a greater balance, a greater breadth, a greater hope, in preaching not just exile and return, but the fulness of the gospel of Jesus Christ, who promises life in abundance to everyone, in whatever situation they find themselves.

So let me now pick up the key question I raised earlier this evening. What is the nature of the comfort which the Lord is asking us to share, here and now, with the community around us?

We can find some guidance in answering this question by returning to Isaiah chapter 40, and reading the verses that follow. Here, the Prophet speaks of preparing the way of the Lord in the wilderness, making a straight highway through the desert, by lifting up valleys, bringing down hills, and levelling the rough ground – and then the glory of the Lord will be revealed. So, let us ask tonight: where is there wilderness and desert in this community? Of course, I do not mean literally, where is there barren dry land – unlike the barren and vacant plot at the back of the church, which you should consider how best to use!

We need to think more broadly about wherever there is desolation, instead of the flourishing that God desires for humanity – sharing in community, where each of us loves, and is loved by, our neighbours as ourselves. The question then arises of ‘Who is my neighbour?’ within the family of the Church, within our communities – even among our colleagues and business contacts. Yes, everyone is our neighbour. There is no-one who crosses our path who is not our neighbour, someone with whom to share the comfort of God. And so, within these human networks to which we belong, we need to consider: Where is there wilderness, desert, barrenness, where instead there ought to be life, flourishing, growth, development?

And what about straight ways? Where are the ways of life, in your community, in your work, in your parish, not straight? Where is there crookedness – perhaps crime, corruption, bribery, bending the rules, cutting corners, being elastic with the truth, playing it a little too clever, taking the easy way out … How can you bring in the straight ways, and live by the measure of righteousness?

Then there are the valleys and hills – the gaps and the obstacles. Where are the gaps, the shortfalls, between how we are, and what we are called to be? And what obstacles stand in the way of us living the lives God purposes for us? And finally, there is levelling rough ground. Where do we still trip up, even though the way ahead, on the face of it, seems relatively clear?

I am sure with very little imagination, you can provide me at once with all manner of answers!

And we can address these issues with confidence, for we serve a Lord who says, Comfort, comfort my people, and we know his word does not return empty! How then, shall we bring the good news of the gospel of Jesus Christ to all these pains of today’s world.

What is the social justice for which our God would have us strive? Some of us do not find it easy to answer this question. The world around is complex and ambiguous, and we do not know where to begin. Many of us grew up with one big simple question, for the church and for the country, to which there was one big simple answer – the end of apartheid. Now, in both politics and faith, we have to deal with complicated and diverse issues, with no big simple answers – and we are not used to the new mindset this requires. You might even say, it takes us outside our comfort zone!

For democratic life is messy. This is a reality. But, for us who are new to it, it can be confusing, and unsettling, as the tides of politics ebb and flow, and personalities and politicians come and go. And often devout and deep-thinking Christians are divided on all manner of issues from the death penalty through to the best way to tackle poverty. But we should not be discouraged. God can work in this democratic world as easily as in the bad old days – for nowhere is outside God’s comfort zone!

Instead of one big question, one big answer, we can find God at work in many detailed ways, answering every question, however it comes. So each of us can ask, within our own circumstances, as well as within the parish, and within the community, the questions I asked above:

* what are the barren deserts,

* what are the crooked ways,

* what are the gaps,

* what are the obstacles,

* and what is it, even when life seems sorted out, that still trips you up in your attempts to go forward?

And then we must ask ‘how can I best be a loving neighbour, in tackling these issues wherever I encounter them?’

Each of us may come up with slightly different answers and priorities, depending on our own contexts, our own callings. The particular challenges facing politicians, business people, journalists, teachers, doctors, clergy and so forth, are all likely to be different – just as our personal and family situations, may be different. But in them all, God wants to make the road forward straight and level, for the glory of the Lord to be revealed in our lives. God wants to bring abundant, flourishing, holy, life – a life of justice and truth – and he will do so in whatever manner is most appropriate for each person, each context.

So do not worry that, with the loss of the big question, and big answer, the Church has ‘lost its vision’. No, in changed circumstances, we must learn to express God’s vision, God’s comfort, differently, appropriately to the complexities and varieties of our lives. Now we face the challenge of discerning the finger prints of God in the ‘little things’ of life, in every time and place. Do not forget – we serve a God who numbers the hairs on every person’s heads. He has made-to-measure promises, that deliver tangible comfort, for every single one of his children.

And so, wherever we are, we can promote God’s comfort, Christ’s gospel, through pursuing the highest moral principals, ethical standards, values of ubuntu, and strengths of democracy. In God’s strength, we can press for God’s justice; expressed, for example:

* in adequate social grants for all who need them, for all who are entitled to them;

* in a properly funded health service, properly remunerated health professionals;

* in safety in schools, in supporting teachers, in helping schools deliver quality education;

* in politicians being accountable to their electorate

* in truth and transparency – not least in relation to the arms deal

* in equitable distribution of the world’s resources, between rich and poor

* in sustainable development and environmental protection

* in halting human trafficking, especially child-trafficking

And in all of this, our desire is for every human person, every child of God – each of us created in, and reflecting, his image – to be treated fairly, with dignity, with respect.

It is a great privilege to live in a country where the provisions of our Constitution, though not grounded in the Christian faith, so fully reflect our beliefs in the intrinsic worth and value of each person, and the fundamental equality of treatment and of opportunity due to every individual.

At this point, let me dare to stick my neck out and risk a remark about President Zuma’s comment on the ANC ruling until Jesus comes again.

Neither the Anglican Church, nor the South African Council of Churches – of which we are a member, and which we strongly support – wants to ‘colonise’ Jesus, as some have claimed.

Of course, our desire is that everyone, everywhere, should know him and follow his ways – because we believe that this offers the best route to human well-being.

Yet we express this desire within the context of our Constitution, which respects freedom of religion – the freedom to believe whatever you want to believe, as long as you do not contravene the basic rights of others. And this means, that you, that anyone, can allot to Jesus whatever role you wish. In this way, Muslims believe Jesus to be one of their prophets, and they are free to do so.

No, the reason that we, and others in broader civil society are unhappy with the President’s comments, is not actually a matter of religion at all. It is a matter of public policy.

Therefore, I believe it is wholly right that, tonight, we should evoke the legacy of Archbishop Trevor Huddleston, and tell the ruling party precisely why we are unhappy, even if it does give them ‘naught for their comfort’ to hear us say it.

President Zuma, as leader of the ANC, does have the perfect right to express the hope that South African voters will choose his party as the country’s government ‘until Jesus returns’. But it is another matter to predict the party will rule until the end of time as we know it.

It takes only a glance at history to show the enormous damage that one-party rule has done to too many of Africa’s people; and the poverty and suffering it has caused, not least through encouraging greedy elites to hog resources. In this light, the President’s comments are unfortunate.

More than this, given the roots of one-party rule, the President’s comments are anachronistic, reflecting a 1960s or ‘70s view of our continent. A 21st century perspective on Africa should surely rather reflect, for example, the understanding expressed in the African Union’s own Declaration on Democracy, Political, Economic and Corporate Governance.

And, finally, the President's predictions of unending ANC rule are potentially dangerous, to the extent that they might encourage those who have a strong stake in – and economic motives for – prolonging ANC rule indefinitely, and tempt them to take unconstitutional action to preserve it.

But let me say that we wish President Zuma and his government well, and we shall continue to pray that they may be successful in following the leadership of Jesus Christ: who came not to be served but to serve; and who taught us to put the needs of others – especially the poorest, the weakest, the most marginalised – before our own.

May they be successful in the goals they have set themselves: in tackling poverty and crime and unemployment; in building up health and education; and – in so many other ways – bringing tangible, sustainable and lasting comfort to those who stand in greatest need.

Let us not forget how far we have come in 15 years, how much there is to celebrate, how much there is to affirm, and how much there is to continue building upon.

We can rejoice in all that is good and true and honourable and just; in whatever is pure and pleasing and commendable – as St Paul tells the Philippians. Wherever there is excellence, or anything worthy of praise – our minds should rest on these, and our words should encourage them, and our actions support them.

Even if Bafana Bafana did not beat Brazil last night, a semi-final place was quite an achievement, and we congratulate the team. And we can look forward to 2010, knowing that sport builds relationships, and creates better neighbours – as well as providing leverage for jobs, skills upgrades, and all manner of other opportunities for our country and its people.

Remember, God calls us to be a people of hope. As the poem containing the phrase ‘Naught for your comfort’ tells us – God does not give us guarantees of an easy life, but he guarantees us that he is with us, through thick and thin, working his good. And so with confidence we can proclaim his message of comfort, knowing that he will make straight his paths, and level the valleys of despair and hopelessness.

May his comfort be felt in the life of Christ the King, in the life of Sophiatown, and in the life of all those whom you encounter. Amen.

To the People of God - To the Laos

November 2008

Dear People of God

This has been a momentous week. The election of Barack Obama to the White House is not only a first for African Americans. It has also brought a surge of joyful hope and eager anticipation, across the United States and the world. We must pray for him as he prepares to take office, remembering that all those who hold authority have potential to be 'God's servant for our good' (Rom 13:4).

Our God is certainly the God of new beginnings, who redeems the past, and tells us to hope and trust with certainty, as we look to the future. At times like these, and during South Africa's elections in 1994 with their repercussions that spread far beyond our borders, it is easy to believe that we can see God's hand at work in events around us. And we may feel we can do so in other events such as the recent peaceful elections in Angola. But perhaps we are not so good at discerning God's redemptive finger prints at a smaller-scale level.

Yet the message of the incarnation is that the God who transcends time and space, is also Emmanuel, God with us, who numbers the hairs on our heads. All the promises of the gospel - of salvation and redemption, healing and wholeness, forgiveness and reconciliation, liberation from all that oppresses - are for us to know and experience at every level from the grand sweep of history through to communities, families and individuals, as we put our trust in Jesus.

One way of becoming more aware of God's active presence in our lives is to cultivate what I like to call 'an attitude of gratitude'. This habit is one of the most powerful ways I know of learning to recognise God at work, to become aware of his promptings in our lives, and to walk more closely with him.

What I have in mind is this: to set aside time - 10 minutes daily, if you can - and to be conscious of coming to sit quietly before the Lord. As you breathe gently, remember that you are in the presence of the God who loves you more than you can ever fully grasp. Perhaps you want to close your eyes, and say to yourself 'God loves me.' Now, slowly and gently, ask Jesus to bring to your awareness the moments of the day for which you are most grateful.

Of course, sometimes large events dominate our consciousness. When the aeroplane on which I was travelling to Bishop David's funeral last month came in to land, we had to make an emergency evasion, because there was another plane on the runway. If it had not been for the pilot's skill, there would have been terrible tragedy - I was aware of the fragility of life, and yet also of being held safe in the palm of God's hand.

But when I reflect on today, or on the past few days, I find that the Lord brings to mind all manner of memories. These span the joy of family jokes at the breakfast table, or finding that the lectionary readings leap out of the page and speak into some circumstance with which I am dealing. Sometimes a complex problem falls easily into place. Someone I need to speak with just happens to phone. A need I have is met so effortlessly I take it for granted. Or coincidences occur. Perhaps some event didn't go as badly as I had been fearing! Or, especially when I see a beautiful sunset, or am struck afresh by the miracle of parenthood, I am just overwhelmed by the wonder of life itself.

By taking time to recall such moments - brought to mind in prayer by the prompting of the Spirit - I am drawn to recognise God's care, God's love, at work in my life in ways I did not always notice at the time. I am now finding this meditative process is helping me become more aware of his presence actually in each present moment - and, I hope, to respond as he would have me do. This is something on which I have been deliberately and specifically reflecting in recent months, and I feel myself profoundly touched by God as I have done so.

More than this, I find I am drawn to live out of a spirit of thankfulness. 'Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you,' writes St Paul (1 Thess 5:16-18). Taking up the role of Archbishop has been hugely daunting, but living with gratitude helps me recognise and acknowledge how much I am dependent on God, and, more than this, how much he equips us and directs us, as we rely on him.

So even when we see great turmoil around - perhaps in the international credit crunch and looming recession, or in political turbulence, and in the effects these have on our lives - we should not be daunted. Living with an attitude of gratitude helps us become aware of how much God really does take care of us.

There is something else for which I am grateful. In London at the beginning of this month, the Archbishop of Canterbury awarded me, and all the members of the Lambeth Conference Design Group, the Cross of St Augustine - the highest honour of the Anglican Communion. In receiving this, I also want to pay tribute, and give thanks, to all the people of ACSA, for the support you have given to me, to my predecessors, and to all the Bishops and the leaders of our church. It is your prayers, encouragement, and other help that has enabled our Province over many years to contribute so much to the life of our Communion.

In my last letter, I mentioned that at Provincial Standing Committee we had discussed the development of a Vision Statement. This is a process that we began in 2002 Resolution 44 when Provincial Synod passed a motion asking us to do this. However, what we do as a Province must also reflect the realities of life at the grass roots level, and the specific expressions of the gospel to which we are called. So as we continue to 'seek afresh to discover what is it to be the body of Christ in our time, and who God is in Jesus Christ, for us here and now' (our key calling, as I said in my charge, and have mentioned before in these letters), can I please ask all of you who have Diocesan or Parish Mission or Vision Statements to forward a copy to the Provincial Executive Office at Bishopscourt, or to peoadmin@anglicanchurchsa.org.za. Thank you.

Yours in the service of Christ

Archbishop Thabo

Cape Town