A DAY IN THE LIFE OF A SOUTHERN AFRICAN BISHOP

By Bishop Peter Lee Wednesday 21 May 2008. We wake at 05:00 as usual because Gill has to get on the highway before 06:00 if she is to reach school in time to teach. People do not always understand that Johannesburg is a busy place. The province of Gauteng which is geographically the smallest of South Africa’s nine new provinces, is also the most densely populated with about a quarter of South Africa’s population and large numbers of immigrants from other places crowding it. This province contains 2 of South Africa 4 major cities – Johannesburg and Pretoria – and generates no less than 30% of the Gross Domestic Product not of South Africa – but of the entire African continent! It is a rich city which of course attracts large numbers of the poor. It is big, busy, aggressive, dynamic and stimulating unless you get tired. The needs for ministry are enormous and new housing areas have burgeoned all around these cities in the past twenty years creating massive demands for employment, housing, health services, schools, water and drainage especially in a city which sits at 6 thousand feet and therefore has to pump most of its water back up the hill from which it has drained away when it rains.

Our Diocese of Christ the King may well have doubled in population from about one and a half million to around three million since 1990 when we started. Gauteng also apparently accommodates one quarter of all the vehicles in Africa – which explains why Gill has to leave in good time in the morning. As we flick on the morning news, we hear more about the violent attacks on immigrants from other countries which are taking place in some of the townships and informal settlements. The attacks appear to have blown up spontaneously and taken the police and political authorities entirely by surprise- although the churches have been warning for years about some kind of explosion if the frustrations of the people were not more adequately addressed. Images of violence have flashed around the world, to the great damage of South Africa’s reputation as a new democracy and of its economy (not to mention the exchange rate for bishops about to leave for the Lambeth Conference) – and of course is really damaging prospects of the football world cup in 2010. The TV shows the extensive coverage of newspapers in Nairobi reporting attacks on their own citizens living in South Africa. At 06:15 I leave for a building site meeting in Orange Farm south of Johannesburg. It really was a farm 20 years ago but it wouldn’t grow oranges so it was taken for urban housing development. At that time when I first saw it 20 years ago it had sheep on it; now there are anywhere between 600 000 people and twice that number. We are building a centre with a large hall for worship and meetings and four other rooms which will be used for parish ministry, women’s groups meetings, literacy training, and skills training especially for women in either sewing or computers. One room will be ear marked for diocesan HIV and AIDS ministry as a drop- in advice centre supplying health advice, counseling, voluntary testing for HIV status, training in home based care and the young people’s prevention program known as Siyafundisa. The program works from the basis that no young person ever listens to their parents talking about sex – but they will talk to each other; so if we can train young people to discuss the realities of the disease with their contemporaries, we make an attempt to slow the rapid spread of the disease. (Incidentally, for UK citizens listening to this, you may like to know that many of the Anglican Church in Southern Africa’s HIV and AIDS programmes are funded through the Department for International Development of the U.K government as well as some other international government support which recognizes that the strategies being used by the church are effective, trusted and in place at community grass roots. Your tax pound is changing the world!) At the site meeting the project manager – a Kenyan civil engineer – tells me about the calls from around the world which he and his family are receiving, concerned for their safety. A Zimbabwean artisan employed by the contractor is living in fear behind a tree and we heard that yesterday 20 Zimbabweans were hiding at the Orange Farm police station although in fact Orange Farm community members have thus far resisted joining in violence. Its not clear whether this is a matter of pride in the spirit of that community or just because Mozambicans sell cheaper black market cigarettes from the side of the road and clearly should not be chased away! We finish talking about the ceiling and the drainage and wonder if we can get the glass into the widows quickly in case of needing to offer the building to victims of xenophobic violence if Orange Farm erupts. We decide that the cross on top should be wood or concrete because we have extensive thunderstorms in the summer and a steel rod poking out of the roof is not a good idea. I proceed to one of the two church schools in Orange Farm were we have a total of 1800 children in our care, to check how the Zimbabwean teachers are doing. I hear that one of the students who comes from Malawi has been scared to come to school. And assure the teachers of the church’s support before heading across to a meeting in a District education office to talk about some issues relating to the other school. It is now 09:00 in the morning and I leave at 10:30 to run to the centre of Johannesburg for a meeting of Church leaders convened by the Gauteng SACC. We spend three hours discussing the violence and possible humanitarian interventions. Clearly the East Rand and some spots in the City Centre have been badly affected and significant numbers of displaced people are camping in police stations, churches and community halls. We set up a communication system so that donations of blankets from churches can be delivered to central points. After some debate and dealing with the media, I pull out at 13:30 to visit the family of one of our clergy whose father is dying; from there he and I go to his parish south of Johannesburg for an afternoon of visiting which is supposed to end up with a fairly routine mid week service. In fact the visit takes on quite a different shape. We start home visiting with a man I have known for years who used to be a boxer- a man who has served as a lay minister in the church for many years. Gangrene has attacked his legs and at the age of 75 he has undergone an amputation and sits confused and weeping as we pray with him. Across the road is the home of another faithful man in the congregation whose vocal cords have been removed and who sits smiling and just gesticulating carefully as we greet his grandchildren. Later we go see a young woman whose husband was murdered on their doorstep when returning from work in the middle of the night last weekend. He was shot and stabbed in one of those inexplicable clashes, so frequent in South African society; nothing was stolen and the whole event is unexplained. We met her two young boys; one of them tells me that whenever his father left for work he was told to be the man of the house – and he now has that role permanently at the age of 9. The family will be attending the evening service because the parish quite cleverly uses its mid week eucharist as a service of comfort for any family preparing for a weekend funeral. Then we had to go to a grandmother whose entire family decided to go to the movies on a recent public holiday. Someone crossed the highway and hit them killing two 4 -year olds instantly and landing several others in hospital two of whom have also subsequently died. We were scheduled to meet her 10 year old grandson whose face had been injured in the crash and who we were told had been waiting for us to visit since 14:30; it is now 06:00 in the evening and he has just gone home. We load up the granny in a cortege which had suddenly acquired some lay ministers and others as we head for the little boy’s house on the other side of the suburb. We find that he had two operations on his left eye, which is closed and expected to remain that way permanently. He tells me that his one great desire is to get back to playing rugby. After apologies for making him wait all afternoon and chatting with him, we pray and leave. An hour later we get a report to say that he opened his eye just after we left. We cross to one of the new housing extensions spreading out west from this community to visit a lady of 92 who has recently been brought from a rural village to stay with her children because she was all alone. As often happens in South Africa we find that she speaks little English but mostly Afrikaans and Tswana. I have a little Sotho which is similar to Tswana and not much Afrikaans, so we have a wonderful mis –conversation trying to find common language with an old lady who is rather confused and hard of hearing – all assisted by her hilarious daughter in law. It turns out that the rector of the parish is scared of dogs, so by the time he gets through the yard to the house our visit is over and he has to brave the animals again to get out. We dash back to the rectory for a quick supper which two of the lay ministers have dropped off – people make outstanding briyane and lamb curry in this community. Quick word with each of the rector’s student children and try to set up the budding lawyer with a holiday job in a black lawyer’s practice in the south of the diocese. Get to church just in time for the 07:30 mid week eucharist attended by both grieving families and the usual bundle of parishioners. Try to convert my sermon about xenophobic violence – based on Paul’s exhortation to accept one another as Christ accepted us– into something appropriate for traumatized families. Administer 85 communions and leave for home just after 09:00. I have to return on Sunday to license 25 Lay ministers including one in our new program to train lay ministers under the age of 25 at two services – one in English and one in Sotho in a school classroom – so it is quite good to tune in to the needs of the community during the week. It is a wonderful thing to be part of the church’s ministry in a place like this where it all makes difference. Goodnight – tomorrow begins at again at 05:00.