Central Methodist Mission

Friends,

Last week I visited Humanity, an evolution exhibition at the Iziko South African Museum of Natural History – situated in the Company Gardens. (It is time the Company Gardens be renamed!) I highly recommend this exhibition as it invites us to reflect on ‘What makes us the SAME’, ‘What makes us DIFFERENT’ and ‘What makes us HUMAN’.

The exhibition makes an important stand against discrimination and racism in particular. It states clearly that “Races are not real. Racism is”. We are reminded that every single human being shares 99.9 % identical DNA with the next person. How the world needs to be reminded that every painfilled legacy of discriminatory othering is based on less than 0.1% of a human being!

The exhibition that is profound in its simplicity and accessibility critiques how evolution studies have been studied and communicated over the years. In this way it ‘decolonises’ this discipline. Remember a couple of years back some people were asking how it was possible to ‘decolonise’ science, after all “science is science” they said. Well, this exhibition is a brilliant example of decolonising education. It reveals the historical biases (and blatant prejudices) of white men in the field of evolutionary studies. The exhibition exposes stuff that I took for granted and never even thought to question.

This example of decolonising of education is a challenge to all of us to critique our own fields of interest or expertise. For example, if we look at the inside structure of CMM with its fixed pews in straight lines, it is easy to see column of colonial soldiers marching in straight lines. Eyes front! Focused on the back of the soldiers’ head in front of them. No talking! Only one person speaks. The commander in the front – who shouts the commands. Everyone else must listen and obey. So instead of community we have columns. Instead of “braided” truth we have single truth spoken. Instead of seeing each other’s faces – we see the back of each other’s heads. We don’t know if a person is happy or sad, weeping or frowning. Sadly, this model is replicated over and over again – even in churches without fixed pews. Free standing chairs are placed in straight rows revealing how we willingly participate in our own “confinement” opting for columns over community, and so undermining the gospel we proclaim.

May we continue to learn… unlearn… relearn…

In grace,
Alan

Revenge

At times … I wish
I could meet in a duel
the man who killed my father
and razed our home,
expelling me
into
a narrow country.
And if he killed me,
I’d rest at last,
and if I were ready—
I would take my revenge!

*

But if it came to light,
when my rival appeared,
that he had a mother
waiting for him,
or a father who’d put
his right hand over
the heart’s place in his chest
whenever his son was late
even by just a quarter-hour
for a meeting they’d set—
then I would not kill him,
even if I could.

*

Likewise … I
would not murder him
if it were soon made clear
that he had a brother or sisters
who loved him and constantly longed to see him.
Or if he had a wife to greet him
and children who
couldn’t bear his absence
and whom his gifts would thrill.
Or if he had
friends or companions,
neighbors he knew
or allies from prison
or a hospital room,
or classmates from his school…
asking about him
and sending him regards.

*

But if he turned
out to be on his own—
cut off like a branch from a tree—
without a mother or father,
with neither a brother nor sister,
wifeless, without a child,
and without kin or neighbors or friends,
colleagues or companions,
then I’d add not a thing to his pain
within that aloneness—
not the torment of death,
and not the sorrow of passing away.
Instead I’d be content
to ignore him when I passed him by
on the street—as I
convinced myself
that paying him no attention
in itself was a kind of revenge.

Nazareth April 15, 2006

Poem © 2006 by Taha Muhammad Ali. English translation © 2006 by Peter Cole, Yahya Hijazi, and Gabriel Levin.

Taha Muhammad Ali (1931-2011). Palestinian poet from Galilee that was first bombed then bulldozed during the 1948 War to make room for an Israeli settlement.

PS: Here is the link to Alan’s sermon on Gaza – Baptism against Brutality – from last week.

Friends,

I have slowly begun to pack a few boxes. While doing so I came across a collage of photographs stuck on a piece of cardboard. Reminding me of my first year in the ministry at Rustenburg Methodist Church in 1991. In one of the photos, I am holding a baby. A photo of my first baptism. I remember the date. It was on 20 January 1991. Four days after the US started Operation Desert Storm – Gulf War. I spoke of how the war was a betrayal of Baptism. Baptism being the bold pronouncement that all are beloved of God and members of God’s family. Those who choose war, do so because they have forgotten their baptism – the belovedness of all.

Today will be my last baptismal service at CMM. Once again, I will hold a baby and we will declare with boldness that this child is beloved, as is every child. And we will covenant as a community to live in such a way that this child and all children everywhere will grow up in the knowledge of their and each other’s belovedness. We do so in a context of a world at war in so many places, but especially in and around Gaza today. We do so with scenes of death etched on our eyes and the sounds of agonising grief in our ears.

Behind and before, my time in ministry has been hemmed in by baptism and brutality. In this we are invited to make a choice about how we will live life and organise life to what end. Baptism or brutality? Belovedness of all or only for some? All are chosen or only a special few? Freedom for all or only some? Life or death?

May we choose life,
Alan

Friends,

Today I am running – well trying to run – the Cape Town Marathon. I know they say it is one of the most beautiful marathons in the world – but trust me – I will not be looking at the view. Today is not going to be pretty. I have simply not done enough training for anything to be pretty today.

Two weeks ago, I told the story of being injured for much of this year – so I decided to try and keep fit by aqua-jogging. The pros rave about how effective it is. So, I went religiously to the Long Street Baths with my floatation device strapped around my waist and jogged lengths. This took boring to new depths. Anyway, there I was doing my lengths, and some kids were messing about – with one of them actually swimming into me. The others immediately scolded him saying, “Pasop vir die uncle – hy kan nie swem nie”. (Mind the uncle he can’t swim.) So basically, what I am saying to you is that I am not only hopelessly undercooked for today – but I also have suffered public persecution and humiliation to get here.

I therefore figure that in the very least you can offer some balm for my wounded ego and shattered body. Please be recklessly generous to Stepping Stones Children’s Centre. This alone will heal me. You can use the CMM banking account – details on the right hand side of the website – with the reference: RUN or go to the Stepping Stones website (especially you overseas people – yes I see you!) https://steppingstoneschildrenscentre.org.za (Please read the small print. Note: If I do not finish you do not get your money back).

On a serious note, we all know what people say is important when buying property: Location, Location, Location. Well, when it comes to eradicating poverty, what is important is Education, Education, Education. So, I would like to invite you to eradicate poverty by supporting Stepping Stones on a permanent basis – a monthly amount. Make a debit order. Do it now. No, Jesus will not love you anymore than he already loves you, but you will make a child smile and that makes Jesus smile.

 Or be generous towards any other Early Childhood Centre – perhaps one in your area. Visit to see if they need anything – especially those schools within challenging environments. Check out the remarkable work of https://startingchance.org.za run by Ali and Ian Corbett of CMM in the Mfuleni area – one of the most violent and poverty-stricken areas of Cape Town. There are literally hundreds of schools in need of supportive intervention. Funding a child’s education is never wasted. Never ever!

Here is the thing. The need and suffering that we are all surrounded by in this country can so easily leave us feeling overwhelmed and powerless. Not having a clue where to begin and what to do to make a healing and liberating difference. Well, I cannot think of a single social issue that will not be enhanced for the better as a result of contributing to early childhood education. Early childhood education is a game changer in everything. No wonder the first Sunday Schools started by the Methodists back in the late 1700s were not so much about religious education but rather about teaching people numeracy skills as well as to read and write – plus teaching the good news of being preciously loved – done on a Sunday. Education that would ultimately set children free from child-labour and adult exploitation.

Okay I got to run…

Grace, Alan