`AN ILL-FATED PEOPLE`

 ‘AN ILL-FATED PEOPLE’

The late Lawrence Vambe – he died last year aged 102 – opened his celebrated book, An Ill-Fated People, with a story of a rapid white wedding in Chishawasha before the Jesuits at the Mission discovered that Josephine was pregnant. A ‘verbal scuffle’ had ensued among the elders about what to do when the news of her pregnancy first surfaced. Her husband, Martin, though also a Christian, had scoffed at the idea of a rushed wedding. They had both fulfilled all the customs tradition laid down for marriage and in the eyes of the community were man and wife. But if they did not have a wedding there was a fear that the priest in charge of the mission might expel the whole family from the mission land. They had the wedding.

Vambe uses this incident like a grenade to blow up any complacency we might have that the reception of Christianity by the people of Zimbabwe was a smooth matter. He gives us a passionate account of how the whites used their military power to subdue the people from 1890 and trample on their freedom, dignity and sense of self-worth. The settlers were only momentarily checked by the risings in the mid-1890s before resuming, with greater determination, their plan to take from the people their land and their mines and make the locals labourers on their own property. Vambe gives a psychological as well as a political history of what this meant as he viewed events growing up in Chishawasha and listened to the accounts told again and again by the elders.

The missionaries were caught between their appreciation of the order and infrastructure the settler presence gave them, enabling them to pursue their task of preaching the gospel in word and action, and their indignation at the cruelty and racialism of the settlers which always implied the local people were inferior. Vambe felt the tension in his own person for, while he was deeply embedded in his own roots in Chishawasha and appreciated the culture and traditions of the VaShawasha society into which he was born, he felt drawn to the Christian message by the example of the sisters and fathers at the mission who educated him. He even explored his vocation to become a priest spending three years at the new seminary founded by Bishop Aston Chichester, half a morning’s walk from his home in Mashonganika village.

This tension is still there today and may explain why the Catholic Church in Zimbabwe is far less developed than in some neighbouring countries. Numbers are not everything but they are something: In the DR Congo Catholics make up 50% of the population and in Zambia 25%. In Zimbabwe the proportion is 9%. (These figures come for Google). It could be that the white alien influence, being much stronger south of the Zambezi, hindered the work of white missionaries. If it is true that the high sounding words of the Congress of Berlin (1884), about defending the rights of the local people when the colonisers carved up the continent for themselves, ‘have as much meaning as a rosary beads wound round the knife of a murderer’ (Vambe p 84), there was little chance that the Christian gospel would be welcomed warmly. The defeat of the Shona and the Ndebele in the 1890s destroyed the self-respect of blacks and degraded the whites. The implications of both these judgements of Vambe were played out in the twentieth century and have not been resolved to this day.

This Sunday is All Saints’ Day and we celebrate the many people who lived their lives faithfully often in harsh conditions. They are saints. Yet we have to hold that we did not succeed – and are not succeeding – in reaching those who are responsible for the running of our country with leaven of the gospel.

1 November 2020 All Saints Day Rev 7:2…14 1 John 3:1-3 Matt 5:1-12

STANDING UP

 

STANDING UP

My eye caught a report in the news lately of a courageous Indonesian who is engaged in the struggle against injustice in her country. Yuliana Langowuyo is a law graduate of Cenderawasih University in Jayapura, Indonesia, and she has accepted the job of leading the Papua branch of the Catholic Justice and Peace Commission in Indonesia. The threat of terror and intimidation are part of the risk people take in fighting injustice in Papua, says the 36-year-old lawyer who is gaining a reputation as an ‘iron lady’. She was hesitant as a lay woman but she set her doubts aside. ‘It was intimidating at first to work among priests who were smart and possessed excellent leadership skills. But they welcomed me and gave me the space to develop dialogue and communication’, she said. ‘We all have the same goal: peace in Papua’.

 

This Sunday we read the words of Jesus which he took from the ancient law of Israel and manifested in his own life: ‘You must love others as yourself’. We have come to realise that justice does not come easily anywhere and every country has had to struggle for it. Those in power do not cede their privileges unless there is both a constitution which sets limits to power and the civic muscle to ensure compliance with the constitution. Much as he would love to continue in power if he loses the election Trump knows there is no possibility whatever of his manipulating the results in his favour.

 

So it is a simple call: ‘love others’! I saw a picture of it scrawled on a London street last week showing that Covid 19 has drummed the message into our dull skulls. But it is a call many continue to ignore in the headlong selfish lust for power. It is painful to have to continually remind ourselves that no change comes without selfless sacrifice, the sort Langowuyo lives. We look at the situation in our countries and lament that so much suffering still awaits those who struggle to bring justice and peace.

 

25 October 2020         Sunday 30 A         Ex 22:20-26          1Th 1:5-10       Matt 22:34-40

NO ONE UNDERSTANDS ME

 

NO ONE UNDERSTANDS

 

The Minister of Public Service, Professor Paul Mavima, came to L’Arche Zimbabwe on 15 October to mark World Mental Health Day. One of the residents living with an intellectual disability, Tatenda, recited a poem she had composed, one line of which began, ‘No one understands what I am going through …’ She was referring to the experience of people living with intellectual disabilities but her words struck me for another reason.

Some time ago the BBC put on a series of programmes on the British royal family which explored the influences and pressures the royals are under and the resulting stress to shape up to what is expected of them. They have interpreted the demands made on them under the general heading of duty and, if we are to believe the TV series, this has led to a painful distortion of who they are as people. To put it bluntly, they cannot be who they are and more than one of them vocalises this in similar terms to Tatenda, ‘No one knows what I am going through’. It is excruciating to watch what can almost be described as the mental torture Prince Charles, for example, goes through in order to fulfil his ‘duty’.

But it struck me most of all in the way the Queen’s late sister, Princess Margaret, is portrayed. When, in the early days, she was asked to do something official she tried to be who she was and spoke to people from the heart - informally and warmly. But she was soon reined in and, in struggling to conform to what was expected, never found a role. She died before her time (in 2002, aged 71; the Queen is 94) and, on the evidence of the TV series, was frustrated all her life.

Margaret and Tatenda lived, or live, an experience that many people do. They feel misunderstood and have no one who could help them work through this experience and discover how to develop their own inner strength.  We should be able to live our lives without worrying what others think. My self-worth does not depend on the opinion of others. If there are some people who try to understand, it helps! (One of the aims of  l’Arche communities is to provide just such an environment where a person, however handicapped they are, can become self-confident, accepting themselves just as they are).

But it is not enough to let people struggle on their own.  There are so many who long ‘to be who they are’ and become who they could become and there is a great need to reach out to help them just as we too also need help. Covid 19 is breaking down barriers and reminding us that our survival depends on others. The readings for this Sunday speak of help coming from unlikely sources. Israel came to understand herself through the intervention of Cyrus, the Persian, and Caesar, the Roman. Margaret and Tatenda would have got on great together. They could have shared and explored the loneliness they each felt and draw strength from the encounter.

18 Oct 2020    Sunday 29 A               Is 45:1…6       1 Thess 1:1-5               Mt 22:15-21   

FRATELLI TUTTI – THE SPACE BETWEEN

 

FRATELLI TUTTI – THE SPACE BETWEEN

Creating enduring unity among people is an on-going task. Zimbabweans were united in their desire to create a new country after the collapse of the Rhodesian project but no sooner had they done so than fissures began at appear.  The new government’s reaction was to use force to preserve a unity more on paper than real.

This is nothing new. Shaka welded his people into a strong Zulu nation in the early nineteenth century but it soon exploded and groups broke off to move west and north to found new nations, most notably for us in Matabeleland. And in the twentieth century the European Union, so painstakingly negotiated by 27 nations, is now weakened by the defection of the British. ‘The centre does not hold…’

Brexit is only one instance of a movement where people, dissatisfied with the broken promises of liberal capitalism, are listening to politicians who say nations should look after their own people and forget about the rest. This is what brought Trump to power and it still a strong feeling as Americans approach a new election.

Covid 19 has taught us this does not work. Selfishness on any scale, be it local or national, does not work. This week Pope Francis has issued his letter, Fratelli Tutti, at Assisi in Italy, the home of St Francis, reminding us we are all brothers and sisters and should think of ourselves as one family living in one common home. There is nothing wrong in local pride and culture but we are called go beyond these to have a universal heart. St Francis was the son of a merchant content with a world divided between rich and poor – he being one of the rich. But Francis, the pope reminds us, stripped himself of all his possessions, even the clothes he wore, in a sign of his openness to all, especially the poor.

Many are discouraged and confused today about the way our world is going. The editor of this paper has just become a grandfather again and the question arises what kind of world will this new person inherit? Since the Second World War huge aspirations have found expression in establishing the United Nations, the World Health Organisation, the World Food Organisation and so forth. But it is to the space between ideals and action that the pope addresses his words. What happens, Francis asks, when we see a man by the side of the road robbed and beaten and left half dead? We know what the good Samaritan did. What is preventing us from doing likewise? Why do we turn aside like the priest and Levite?

Climate change affects everybody. Covid 19 affects everybody. And so do many other things. Can we learn from these to create a society marked by compassion rather than competition, by opening our heart to our brothers and sisters, fratelli tutti? Obama would say, ‘Yes, we can’. But can we?     

11 Oct 2020                   Sunday 28 A        Is 25:6-10   Phil 4:6-9    Mt 22:1-14

A TIME TO CHOOSE

 

A TIME TO CHOOSE

Among the simple dramatic stories Jesus told, which we call the parables, The Vineyard stands out. Vineyards are more common in the Cape than here, north of the Limpopo, but you can call it a farm. Much preparation goes into it: ploughing, sowing, weeding, maybe irrigating and then waiting. There is nothing further the farmer can do but wait.  That is essentially what God does: he calls Abraham but then he waits to see what Abraham will do.  He invites Mary to accept her task but then he waits for her response. What will she do?

This is the essential tension in human life. We are faced with choices. What will we do? We talk of social and cultural ‘conditioning’ and they do influence us but, at root, a person can always choose. I met a man in prison condemned to 25 years for murder. He could choose to ‘do’ his time in bitterness and anger, counting the days and the years, or he could choose to live; to take part in activities in the prison, to laugh and to reach out to others. He chose this latter part.  

Responses to Covid 19 vary across the planet. Some take it seriously for a while but are not convinced and soon become careless, mixing with others as they did before and not wearing a mask. Others plead work and their ‘rights’ and also ignore precautions. And still others simply get tired of the whole thing day after day. The result is a second surge of infections with the death toll reaching one million and even the US president becomes infected.

We pray, yes, but there is nothing God can do but wait. Will we choose with wisdom or will we rebel and go our own way? It is up to us.

This is not to say God will abandon us. The tenants of the vineyard chose badly and eventually murdered the heir. God knew they would do this, on Calvary, but he endured the cost of their evil choice and turned it into a gift of life that would outshine the earlier life in a way beyond our ability to grasp. The words of Jesus run through the gospel and must be taken as a whole; they are the ‘good news’ that crown our choices in a way we cannot imagine. The key is to choose well now, while we can, and not to ‘worry about tomorrow; tomorrow will take care of itself.  Set your hearts on the kingdom and all these other things will be given you as well’ (Matt 6:33-4).

4 Oct 2020  Sunday 27 A        Is 5:1-7       Phil 4:6-9    Mt 21:33-43

ITS HOUR COME ROUND AT LAST

 

ITS HOUR COME ROUND AT LAST

 

As you pass the President’s House you are met by traffic lights that flash green and red at the same time. Is this some message we are to decipher? How often we hear of people outlining their plans and ending, ‘I am just waiting for the green light’. Well, we may see the green but it is dominated by its powerful red companion which glares at us at the same time.

I do not think we should lose heart. We are in a testing time. We have never had prosperity and have no model, from our own experience, to fall back on. The red light discourages our every move but, like Yeats’ hippo, there is progress in the air, however sluggish it may appear. In the same poem with the oft’ quoted line, ‘Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold’, Yeats writes:

            The darkness drops again; but now I know

            That twenty centuries of stony sleep

Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,

and what rough beast, its hour come round at last,

Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

 

Can we allow ourselves to be ‘vexed’ by the rocking cradle of Bethlehem? Can we be stirred by the new born child? Has our hour come round at last? Two events have drawn our attention this week. One is the 75th birthday of the United Nations. Often scorned as an ineffectual talking shop, it could well be likened to a slouching hippo. It puts flesh on our highest inspirations and the Secretary General had every right to list the many achievements of the last seven and a half decades. The UN building in New York sports the many coloured flags of the nations but the unwritten message on all of them is that human rights be universally respected. Despite huge lapses, the decades have shown great progress in this regard from the time of the independence of India in 1947 to the liberation of South Africa in 1994.

 

Political freedom seemed like the great prize but nations soon learnt that it was a hollow victory if it did not lead to social and economic freedom. This is the area where we are still ‘slouching towards Bethlehem to be born’.

 

I mentioned two events this week. The second is the European Union’s agreement on a migration policy which one European leader commented would satisfy no one. That is certainly true but it is still an agreement which represents the best they could do when 27 nations sit down with their hugely different perspectives on a complex problem. The beauty of the agreement is that it is not imposed by some strong power but freely agreed. Even if it is ‘weak’ it is a beginning and the EU will continue to ‘slouch’ its way forward.

 

There is hope wherever we look despite all the dire forecasts. If people everywhere persevere in their good work we will eventually get to the time when we ‘realise our common unity’. (Ephesians 4:12) 

 

27 Sept 2020   Sunday 26A                Ez 18:25-28                 Phil 2:1-11       Matt 21:28-32

 

 

 

 

 

 

HARDNESS OF HEART AND COMPASSION

 

‘The magnitude of her sorrow was also the magnitude

of her compassion for others in trouble’.[1]

Tsuneo Yoshikuni on Elizabeth Musodzi

 

This week in the Church’s calendar we had the memorial of Our Lady of Sorrows. It is a moment when the camera zooms in on the figure standing at the cross of Jesus as, ‘aloud and in silent tears’, he writhes in agony. Mary can do nothing to help her dying son. All she can do is be there and absorb his pain by suffering with him. That is the meaning of the word com-passion. It is not easy and relatives visiting their sick family member in hospital find it hard to just be there. Often they try to fill the emptiness they feel with words of comfort that express easy promises. It is just too hard to face the pain of the moment.

 

Elizabeth Musodzi shows us there is a way. Her closest relatives were killed, some by execution (Mbuya Nehanda was her aunt), during the Shona rising of 1896/7. Virtually an orphan, she was sent to the new school run by the Dominican sisters in Chishawasha. There she breathed in an atmosphere of faith which gradually transformed the bitterness in her heart to a lively compassion for others. Attuned to suffering she saw and felt the pain of women in the new ‘location’ in Salisbury (Harare) whose husbands failed to share their earnings and support their families. One who remembered those days asserted, ‘Most marriages survived because of this woman’.

 

Musodzi used to tell the women about gardens and having an income of their own and not being totally dependent on their husbands. And she showed this by example when she rented a plot and produced maize, groundnuts, rice, pumpkins and rapoko. She did not stop there but went on to advocate for classes in sewing and knitting, for a maternity clinic, registering marriages and other improvements in the township. She started the African Women’s Clubs with her friends and this included First Aid training.

 

This was compassion in action and when her grandson, Leonard Chabuka, was asked by Tsuneo Yoshikuni, a Japanese historian of early Harare, where she drew her inspiration, the reply led Yoshikuni to write as above: ‘The magnitude of her sorrow was also the magnitude of her compassion for others’.

 

It is women Like Elizabeth Musodzi who unpack for us the message of Mary’s sorrow as she stood by the cross.

 

20 Sept 2020   Sunday 25 A               Is 55:6-9          Phil 1:20…27              Mt 20:1-16

 

 

 

 

 

  

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[1] Yoshikuni T,  Elizabeth Musodzi and the Birth of African Feminism in Early Colonial Zimbabwe, Weaver and Silveira House, 2008, p 13