Out of Africa

In recent weeks I’ve been fortunate to revisit South Africa for a granddaughter’s wedding, a high-school graduation, and a squeeze of family reunions after several years of Covid delays.

My special joy lay in the realization that despite load-shedding power-cuts, water shortages, and everyday delays in city and provincial government, I was able, through the Internet, to enjoy the annual prize-giving ceremony at Kearsney College, in which one of my grandsons participated, and at which the school chaplain closed the proceedings with a benediction in which she drew upon the wisdom of several renowned speakers including some well-loved words of Scripture. 

Looking to the next stage in the school-leavers’ careers, she said:

“May the Spirit’s gentle voice guide the decisions you will make and the passions that you follow. So that your hearts and lives always reflect God’s love and truth, and your integrity will be a gift to the world.” 

Then eight boys from the school choir, dressed immaculately in blazers and ties, stepped forward to share a final blessing, which brought tears to many eyes:

God bless Africa;

Guard her children;

Guide her leaders;

And give her peace.

This peace was the foundation of a morning I spent revisiting the 528-hectare (1300-acre) Kirstenbosch botanical gardens nestled at the eastern foot of Table Mountain in Cape Town. 

It was here in the spring of 1996 that Nelson Mandela’s name was attached to the Gold Strelitzias (“crane-flower” birds of paradise) that flourish in the daisy-drenched foothills and moved the president to say: “I am happiest when I am in the wild because, as the poet says, in the still air music lies unheard, and [in] the rough mountains, beauty’s height [is] unseen.

This beauty, which Mandela so loved and shared with others, was a timely reminder for me that Southern Africans are essentially smiling, God-fearing people, who speak several languages, and look for the good in virtually everyone they meet.

Before I could start counting the dolphins romping in the waves in the nearby Indian Ocean, I was greeted in the kitchen of the open-plan home in which we were to spend our first ten days by a housekeeper whose Zimbabwean hug was as wide and warm as the sub-tropical skies above us. And there was no mistaking the message in the shona words that greeted me: akanaka a Mwari. (“Our God is good.”)

She stood aside to reveal Jesus’ words which had been written on the wall beside her regular work counter: “Your cleansed and grateful life, not your words, will bear witness to what I have done.”

I recognized their source as Matthew’s account of the healing of the centurion’s servant (8:4, the Message). And I knew that no one was more committed than she was to living those words every day— especially during the five hours she and her family participate in their neighborhood’s outdoor church service on Sundays.

On a bookshelf near her workplace, was a well-worn copy of Shauna Niequest’s 365-day devotional, Savor, which Google Books describes as an invitation to expand one’s perspective about Christ-centered living by incorporating prayer and recipes for gathering with family and friends over breakfasts, dinners, and late-night snacks.

This related to my observation that neighborliness and a family spirit are a well-established part of daily life in this tree-lined residential community in the village of Hillcrest, about twenty miles from Durban. Ready smiles and friendly greetings abound and the first names of both residents (usually, husband and wife) are clearly shown on gate-posts, along with a name they have chosen for their home such as “A Little Bit of Heaven,” Harmony House,” or ”The Perfect Rest.”

And the word welcome is on the mat at every front door.

Everyone with whom we stepped through shining Spring days, appeared to share Niequest’s way of savoring life by soaking up the goodness all around them, “aware of the holy fingerprints everywhere,” and, as she puts it, noticing those glints and quiet moments in a hug, a tomato sandwich, or a text from someone they love.
As Niequest insists, God is always speaking, always moving,  always present, always creating, always healing. The trick lies in paying attention. Savoring.

She points out that when she begins her day with prayer, it’s easier to continue that way. When she begins with God’s Word, with a grounding sense of God’s love for her, she finds it easier to carry those things with her throughout the day.

She concludes: “So let’s begin together. Let’s savor this day, the beauty of the world God made, the richness of family and friendship, the good gifts of creativity and work. All the things that populate our days are worth savoring. Let’s walk together.”

And the walking my wife and I enjoyed during our three-week visit was filled with all those things—for which we give sun-filled thanks.