All Kinds of Monuments

We were awakened very early this morning by what I’m sure were some very beautiful safari-quality birds quarreling noisily on our balcony. It was a tough way to be reminded of the wonders of God’s creation (since we were trying to sleep), but a good way to start the day nonetheless. After a chilly breakfast on the terrace of the bush lodge, complete with some baboons climbing trees in our sightline, we took off in the van (now with a rattling muffler after our safari driving) toward Pretoria.

We had the great privilege this morning of visiting with two students from John Wesley College, one of the seminaries of the Methodist Church of Southern Africa. The education/candidacy process toward ordination is very different from ours in the United States, and these two young men, in particular, were incredibly passionate and committed to the work of ministry. This small school seems to teach transformation without fancy buildings or loads of world-renowned professors: another witness to the work of the Holy Spirit. In many ways this place was a stark contrast to my own seminary experience, but the hospitality of the students made the space feel just as warm and welcome as the halls with which I have become so familiar over the last five years.

Dr. Storey converses with our hosts at John Wesley College

Later, we visited the union buildings, where the president and cabinet of South Africa have their offices in Pretoria/Tshwane (old name/new name). The buildings are gorgeous, and are positioned high on a hill so that one can see all of Pretoria/Tshwane from the steps. We stood very near to where Nelson Mandela was inaugurated as president, and imagined the elated crowds on the lawn below. We were sad to hear from Dr. Storey that the grounds are actually more heavily guarded now than they were during apartheid, simply because of the paranoia of the current administration. Thus, we were unable to get too close to the buildings themselves.

One of the spires of the capital building with the South African flag.

After a quick lunch in a little hole-in-the-wall bakery sort of place, we headed up to the Voortrekker Monument, built by the Afrikaans people who moved inland killing or displacing the native African tribes who were living there; believing that they were God’s chosen who were given the land, like the people of the biblical Exodus. The giant (ugly) monument is readily visible from all over the city, reminding everyone of the power of this racist history, chronicled in marble in offensive scenes all over the inside. As I looked at this monument, I was reminded of the danger of believing that you are part of a chosen people, or at least the danger of believing that as a chosen people you have certain rights over against the non-chosen. We have seen this demonstrated in brutal ways throughout history: when groups of people have killed ‘others’ in order to ‘rightly’ inherit the land or space or rights that God has supposedly granted. It makes me wonder if we Christians have any specific rights at all, other than the right to worship and serve the God of Jesus Christ and to cultivate the fruits of the spirit. It’s a tough question with which to wrestle, but one that we Americans especially need to confront: if the rights we feel God has granted us oppress others, they cannot come from God at all.

One of the Voortrekker leaders immortalized in stone (giant stone, I might add).

The giant Voortrekker monument through the outside gates.

Tomorrow we’ll attend worship at Alan Storey’s church between Johannesburg and Pretoria before spending the afternoon at the apartheid museum. I trust that it will be a powerful day in many ways.