Our Final Weekend
The following comes from my journal as we return to Seattle over the North American continent. Our flight departed from Joberg about 23 hours ago. Our journey is almost over.
Sunday we worshiped with the Maranatha URCSA. Peitros met us at the Evaton Shopping Mall and guided us to the church. but first we stopped to don the shirts that they prepared for us: the shirts celebrated the relationship between Maranatha (Sebokeng), Driehoek (DRC), Second Table Ministries (SEattle) and Post Dam (New York). (It's suppose to be Potsdam).
At the church many people, especially the women were busy in the kitchen cooking up a storm. The aroma was wonderful. This is the largest congregation we are visitng, about 800 members. They have a meeting hall, auditorium and a house for their evangelist. After a short tour of these facilities, we were given a presentation of the church's ministry program and an explanation of their needs. It was very comprenhensive.
The worship service was unique in that is was a bit closer in style to a CRC service. Pastor Mike wore a black robe, they seemed to sing more hynms - tunes that I recognized like Holy Holy Holy and Blest Be the Tie that Binds. As the singing started one of the ladies grabbed me by the arm and ushered me into the aisle to dance with everyone else. David reminded my that "white men don't dance", but the joy of the Lord in celebration with fellow Christians had my feet shuffling to the beat - however poorly.
As the service proceeded, we were treated to singing choirs, operaritic solos, a presentation by Second Table, a sermon and the sharing of communion. We presented the congregation with an American flag -- they erupted in joy. The pastor gushed that it would be hung in the front of the church. We also gave them maps of the world and US. They in turn presented us with gifts -- a Lesotho hat and blanket. The hat represents the gathering around a table, the sharing in conversation and food. I lost the symbolism of the blanket - I know it has to do with covering.
Having no where to pack the hat, I wore it to the airplane. People commented "you have a Lesotho hat". ONe person asked if I had the blanket - I proudly told him that I did. These were significant gifts.
After the service, we , along with the church council, were loaded onto a waiting bus. We toured the area and saw the various wards of Sebokeng. Then we drove to Klipkop - an impoverished area- to visit their mission church. The church is a tin shack, about 10 x 12. Sunday school children surrounded it. We gathered inside for a couple of songs, then moved to the cooler outdoors in the full shining African sun for more song and traditional northern Zulu dance. It was hard to leave those precious children behind. I believe we left the last of the beanie babies with them.
Leaving Klipkop we drove through the Driehoek DRC property and then returned to Maranatha for that luch we had smelled cooking earlier. Word got out that Dave and I were singal. The women flocked to Dave. With all the excitement going on at that time, I was careful not to use the words "I do", for I might have come home with a wife.
Monday - a small group of 14 from our sister church Evaton Noord picked us up at our B&B in Soweto. We spread throughout the van, and began a tour of this historic area of South Africa. Here the fight against apartheid was waged. the tour took us passed Winnie Mandela's home and the former homes of Desmond Tutu and Nelson Mandella. All were hard to photograph, as they were surrounded by high walls. Mandela's home is going under renovation in preparation for its opening as a museum next year.
We made an extended stop at Regina Mundi Cathoic church, a place where the ANC held secret meetings (at leat until the National Party figured out that not all the gatherings focused on worship). The guide showed us bullet holes throughout the building. One policeman butted his rifle against the altar, breaking off a corner of the marble. The balcony contained a photo gallery. I think it was here that the emotions of our Evaton Noord friends came forward. A few women tugged at my sleeve, pointing to pictures and started to tell me what it was like to wear the dumpass; a license that gave or denied permission to almost anything. It had to be stamped to be in any neighborhood, it had to be stamped to have permission to find a house, to find a job. One couldn't seek a job without permission and one couldn't be given a job without permission. It became an impossible tangled mess.
Our friends were overjoyed to be there, seeing this area that was so important to their history. I suppose it would be like us visiting Philidelphia, Boston or Washington DC in 1795. And I'm afraid that simplifies it too much. Our firends had never been to Soweto before. It is only 10-15 miles from their homes. Here we are, sharing their story with them.
After our tour we shared lunch together, went back to our B& B and our final goodbyes to our friends at Evaton Nord.