Pentecost

Wind is one of those brilliant metaphors for God that affords one hours of playful theological speculation.

I have always loved Table Mountain. As a teenager I particularly enjoyed climbing up to the Table face overlooking the city bowl when a strong, hot North-Easter was blowing. This is the wind that presages a cold front. If it approaches the face of the mountain at the right angle the city bowl funnels it directly up the face. The wind is therefore concentrated into a vertical blast. Standing a few metres away from the cliff edge there is no wind. As you approach the edge you can feel the wind being sucked off the top of the mountain by the vertical blast. You can lean out into the wind and be held up by it leaning our over the cliff. We would try to find a rock with the right shape and weight so that when it was lobbed over the cliff it would hover.

God’s power has always been clearly demonstrated in the awesome power of wind: that something so insubstantial as air can hold a rock.

I also think of God as having a sense of humour…

In the Cedarberg there is a starkly beautiful peak called Sneuberg which is cold year round, if not always iced over. At the base of the peak is a small, basic hut and nearby is a long drop (latrine). The door of the latrine faces away from the peak but there has for many years been a large gap in the panelling at the back. In the evenings a bitterly cold wind blows off the peak and down into the valley below so that when (generally after a little nightcap) you take your bedtime constitutional, carefully cocooned in winter down, all sleepiness is blown to smithereens and one soberly contemplates being alive, very alive. The constitutional may or may not happen…

Then there are those hot sticky February days in Cape Town when the tar becomes syrup and the cement is hot enough to cook on. One longs for the healing balm of the South Easter. When it comes, it starts as a slight lilt in the air, just enough to make one’s sweat begin to cool. When it gets up a good speed it blows all the pollution away, clearing the city and air.

Sometimes the street children exploit the strange way eddies form in the city around the tall buildings. When the strong Cape Doctor swirls across the cobbles of Green Market Square it provides enough propulsion to send the lighter kids skittering across the cobbles in card board boxes.

The story of Acts 2:1-29 often gets people talking about how weird it must have been to have tongues of fire dancing around the room and people speaking in languages they had never heard. This misses the point. Luke speaks metaphorically to communicate something more important than whether or not flames actually lit up people’s hairdos.

Pilgrims from all over the world - as it was then - came to Jerusalem expecting to meet God. No doubt some, if not many, were disillusioned by not finding God in the Temple. Certainly they were all surprised when they discovered God in ordinary people, especially this bunch of misfits: women speaking in public, peasants speaking like seers and these were the ones whose master was exterminated like a common criminal – yet here they are speaking to us as friends without fear.

Pentecost speaks to the desire for human unity just as the story of Babel does in the Hebrew Scriptures. The people of Babel had a common language and common purpose, yet they were ultimately scattered across the earth in confusion. Unity is not formed when people seek a common language or a common purpose. These are not ends in themselves but merely convenient instruments.

The people of Pentecost discovered something far more valuable. They shared their lives together, holding everything in common. They cared for one another making sure no one in their community struggled while others were privileged. We’re told, “awe came upon everyone, because many wonders and signs were being done by the apostles. All who believed were together and had all things in common; they would sell their possessions and goods and distribute the proceeds to all, as any had need. Day by day, as they spent much time together in the temple, they broke bread at home and ate their food with glad and generous hearts, praising God and having the goodwill of all the people. And day by day the Lord added to their number those who were being saved” (Acts 2:43-47).

Genuine unity is based on love, the kind of love the Pentecostal people discovered.

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Synod: Legalism and Grace

Last week the Cape of Good Hope District of my church, the Methodist Church of Southern Africa, met in Synod for three days. This is a gathering of about 250 lay and clergy members from a region stretching from the Orange River to Cape Town and Knysna. It is one of 12 Districts of the MCSA, which has congregations throughout 6 countries in southern Africa.

At the beginning of every annual Synod there is a roll call, part of which comprises questions asked of all clergy in the District. Each minister must be able to say in good conscience that they believe and teach the church’s doctrine and observe and enforce the church’s discipline. Any member of Synod can raise an objection against a minister who they feel is not doing this.

19 clergy in our Synod registered qualified answers to the discipline questions. This qualification was based on the fact that many of us have blessed same-sex unions and intend to do so in the future. Recent pronouncements by various courts and members of the hierarchy have led us to believe that such blessings are in breach of the church’s discipline. We disagree. A statement to that effect was circulated to the Synod. There was some initial difficulty in terms of process as Bishop Andrew Hefkie, our District Bishop and chairperson of the Synod, appeared apprehensive. His opening comments about not fighting with each other – addressed to a gathering of ministers before Synod – made me feel like I was being told not to rock the boat. There was some confusion / debate about whether we should talk about it together as ministers before Synod but the decision was to keep it as part of Synod. In the end the questions passed without much fanfare, our qualifications were lodged and noted and I think it was good that the process remained dignified.

The only surprise was a resolution from Rev. Keith Vermeulen that those who had registered qualified answers should recuse themselves from the Synod. I thought this was an excellent idea as I hadn’t found a decent place to quietly watch the movies I’d prepared on my laptop for boring moments in Synod! Fortunately sanity prevailed and Bishop Andrew appointed a Pastoral Commission to meet with the individuals concerned to discuss a way forward.

That evening, after Synod had recessed, Bishop Andrew was interviewed by SABC. You can read the article on the web here. There was also something televised. It seems that this news got our Presiding Bishop - that is the highest office in the church in charge of all 12 Districts, what we call the “Connexion” – quite angry and the next morning Bishop Andrew was called out of Synod to a telephone call. When he returned he instructed the 19 ministers to leave the Synod.

It was a huge shock. Many of the 19 were active members of Synod due to facilitate processes or offer reports that day. The vice chairperson and secretary of Synod were also amongst our number. Synod was effectively crippled and limped on throughout the day. At least three groups of local church representatives walked out in solidarity with us, though most were convinced to return.

The Pastoral Commission met with us and through protracted negotiation, the decision was taken to register a formal dispute with the Presiding Bishop and our Connexional Executive and to seek mediation.

Bishop Andrew, who knew well before the time about our planned action, had sought advice from his fellow Bishops and had asked for a meeting of the Bishops to discuss it. He was left hanging. Though I thought he handled it well, allowing us our protest and setting up a process to deal with it, it seems he was instructed to act otherwise, telling us to leave – something he visibly felt uncomfortable with.

During the day, Bishop Andrew suspended Synod temporarily. While Synod was in recess he came to fetch us and brought us back in to the church sanctuary where all the Synod delegates were still sitting – now officially an informal gathering. We prayed together, holding hands in a big circle. It was very moving. People prayed for unity and courage. We then went to tea and after tea Synod was called to meet again.

Many of us were embraced by colleagues and friends who disagree with us theologically on the question of same-sex unions, but who, none-the-less, respect our freedom of conscience. The vast majority of the members of Synod would have opposed our theology but none-the-less disagreed with the way we had been handled. That day was very emotional and profoundly charged with grace.

After the Pastoral Commission informed Bishop Andrew of the agreement to seek mediation, he came to fetch us again. He led all 19 of us back into the now officially constituted Synod and reinstated us as members of Synod. As we filed in behind him we received a standing ovation. It was overwhelming. I don’t think any of us had a dry eye.

There was something of a backlash the following day however, when a motion was put to the Synod. This motion asked the Synod to allow for freedom of conscience with respect to the blessing of same-sex unions. We were also asking that this freedom of conscience give leave for those so inclined to become licensed by Home Affairs to conduct Civil Unions for same-sex couples. If this passed as a resolution, it would have gone on to Conference, our highest decision making body. The motion was defeated by a relatively close margin. I think it was 84 against and 65 for. When one compares this to motions defeated in previous Synods, one can see a definite shift over the years.

During the debate on this motion another motion was put to the Synod, which called for a referendum of MCSA members on the issue of same-sex unions. This was accepted by the Synod and now passes as a resolution to our Conference for decision there. Again, the margin of victory for this motion was narrow. Anyway, it is extremely unlikely that Conference will accept this resolution because there has never been a referendum on any issue in the history of the church primarily because it is not part of our practice to consult in this way.

So while the backlash was not unexpected, it was significant in its muted tone. I believe the church is slowly changing its mind on this issue and I think this Synod turned a corner last week.

Aluta Continua!

(You can read a follow up article in the Sunday Times here.)

Jesus meets a gay man

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Wash my feet every day, Lord

A teacher decided to start a band at her school and gathered together enthusiastic students. After much effort, investment and bonding, she succeeded in teaching a small group of eager learners how to play their various instruments and do so in unison. They decided to venture forth with a concert for the school and at an assembly the band gathered on the stage in front of the whole school, nervously fidgeting their instruments. As the teacher took the podium to conduct her pride and joy, she noticed their anxiety and leant forwards to whisper: “Remember, if you lose your place or feel too nervous, just pretend you are playing…” With that she raised her baton and silently mouthed, “One, two… three…” The first note sounded: silence.

The church is a bit like that. God calls and on the count of three, there is silence as we look to each other for a lead, for some hopeful sign of knowing what to do. The result is deafening silence.

This last week, the lectionary guided us to read the story of Jesus washing his disciple’s feet at the last supper. It’s a story we know so well it has lost some of its startling power. Jesus act was amazingly simple and powerfully meaningful – something only a fully alive person could have come up with. It shocked his disciples to the core, but, together with the breaking of bread and sharing of wine, went on to be a central symbolic theme in their lives and the lives of the church ever since.

Robert Herhold reminds us that this scene has been called the “sacrament that almost was”. Sadly it never made it even though it has all the ingredients one expects of such ecclesiological constructs. I am sure that this is because of its power. If you have ever participated in such a ceremony, it is far more disturbing than communion or baptism, especially if you are having your feet washed – no matter how much you’ve washed your feet before hand…

Robert imagines the theological battles that might have resulted if foot washing had become a sacrament: “It’s probably just as well that foot washing never became a sacrament. Church property committees would not take kindly to pans of dirty water on the new carpet in the chancel. If theologians had gone to work on the question, we would still be embroiled in endless debate as to whether the feet should be immersed or sprinkled. Liturgists would argue whether the right foot or the left foot should be immersed first. Others would speculate on the symbolism of baptizing heads or feet. It’s always easier to follow Jesus in our heads than it is to follow him with our feet on the Via Dolorosa.”

What is it about Jesus that made him so dynamic; so able to strike home such powerful messages in simple acts? And what a contrast to the apathy of the church! It is tempting to write-off Jesus’ abilities as Divine, especially if one belongs to those of a Trinitarian fundamentalistic bent. For me, Jesus was human and so I can’t but be amazed at his ability in contrast to my lack thereof.

I guess that most of the reason we struggle to act appropriately, effectively and authentically is because we lack the confidence to do so. As much as my self-esteem issues hold me back in so many of my pursuits, it is no different in church.

Surely Jesus has the same problem? We hallow his parents, but they were still human and must have left Jesus with a very human legacy of personal issues to wade through in adulthood. And the playground wounds we all have and live with? He must have had those too. And yet, every time he acts decisively, effectively, shockingly and transformingly.

Something in Jesus’ identity helped him overcome his self-esteem issues. As far as we can tell, his identity is crystallised in the story of his baptism. However we may regard the historical veracity of this story, the kernel of truth must surely be this: for Jesus, he knew in some deep way that he was beloved of God, that God was well pleased with him. I imagine that this was how he began each day of his life, building his identity on this single fact; allowing every act to flow from this singular reference point.

I think of the things I say to myself every day, especially the things I say at the beginning of the day, “Come on lazy-arse, if you don’t get going now, you’ll screw up again. Oh, and you forgot to brush your teeth silly! Do you really think you can handle this meeting today, if you can’t even remember where you left the keys?!”

And yet, I belong to the same baptism as Jesus. I belong to the same promise: I am beloved of God. God is well pleased with me.

What a profound arrogance: to believe that my opinions of myself are more important than God’s!

Jesus’ identity is framed by God. God is his beginning and end. He gets on with his life.

There is a beautiful theological word, “eschatology”, which is all about the study of the “end times”. As Christians we believe that time is linear. It had a beginning and will one day end. Jesus placed his identity firmly in the hands of this God who would bring history to a loving conclusion in God’s heart.

But eschatology should never be divorced from ethics – the struggle to determine what is right and wrong for today. Jesus moved from eschatological identity to engage every day with every day people, bringing his identity into conversation with a broken world.

Some time ago the Methodist Church of Southern Africa struggled with the question of legalising abortions. Our eschatology affirms the sanctity of all life, even unborn life and so the immediate response is always, the unborn are sacred and should not be killed. But as we bring this affirmation to bear on the streets we find that not only the unborn are at risk. Mothers, whose pregnancies cannot truly be called consensual or even desired, are threatened because of back-street abortions and the pressures of family and poverty. Our ethical struggle forced us to come down on the lesser of two evils: abortion is in some cases the best we can do in a terrible situation. We long for a world where such a desperate choice will not be necessary. Eschatology and ethics in conversation.

Such a conversation for me personally is only possible when I begin with my baptism: I am loved by God.

As Robert Herhold puts it: “An eschatology without ethics is futuristic and irrelevant. Ethics without an eschatology is desperate and futile. But joined together, they can produce the power to wash feet; to live fully today because God is in the present as well as in the tomorrow, and to work for the impossible because with God all things are finally possible.”

Gun Control - Australia

Many of you know that I am part of Gun Free South Africa. Here’s some news which explains a little about why I do this work:

Australian gun reform outcomes _ Geoff Harris

A December 2006 article in the international journal Injury Prevention examines the apparent effects of Australian gun law reforms, now ten years old. The study’s findings may be useful to those involved in the South African gun control debate.

Following the massacre of 35 people at Port Arthur in Tasmania in 1996, state and national governments initiated a programme to remove semi-automatic and pump actions guns from civilian possession. Some 650 000 such weapons were purchased from their owners at market prices, and was funded by a special levy on income tax. Perhaps another 50 000-60 000 non-prohibited guns were handed in without compensation. The main aim of the 1996-98 reforms, which included a much stricter licensing system for gun owners, was to reduce the incidence of ‘mass shootings’, which were defined as the gun killings of five or more people at one time.

The researchers were particularly interested in the effect of the reforms on mass shootings. They found that there were 13 mass shootings in the 18 years (1979-96) before the reforms and none in the following 10.5 years (1996-2006).

A second interest of the study was to examine firearm death rates per 100 000 people (made up of suicides and homicides) which had been declining during the 18 years prior to the legislation. The researchers investigated whether there were any changes following the reforms. One possibility was that the rates could increase as criminals took advantage of the fewer guns held by civilians for protective purposes. Another was that people would simply use another weapon in place of a gun. The study found that the rate of decline in firearm-related deaths (both homicides and suicides) at least doubled following the reforms.

Elementary statistical theory tells us to be cautious in attributing causality in cases like this. It could be that some other factors, apart from the reforms, have led to the non-occurrence of mass shootings and the accelerated decline in gun deaths following the reforms. It is, however, very difficult to think of such factors. The researchers comment that ‘the data swings shown are so obvious that if one were given the data … and were asked to guess the date of a major firearm intervention, it would be clear that it happened between 1996 and 1998.’

There will be plenty of scope to debate the relevance of these findings to South Africa but two concluding points can be made. The researchers report a massive change in Australian attitudes towards guns following the 1996 massacre and reforms. Such a change is yet to happen in South Africa and the government therefore needs to continue to push the public in socially-desirable directions. South African gun owners have no reason to feel particularly victimized in this respect. This is precisely the job of government which it carries out in areas ranging from environmental protection, the use of seat belts in vehicles and the practice of safe sex.

The government does need to be aware of the fear which motivates many South Africans to own guns. It is an enormous challenge to government to genuinely allay these fears, in which case the perceived need to own guns will
be reduced.

Geoff Harris, an Australian, has been Professor of Economics at the University of KwaZulu-Natal since 1999.

Iron John ride to Sedgefield

Click here to see photos of our recent trip to Sedgefield.