Cry, the Beloved Country

I just completed Alan Paton’s classic, “Cry, the Beloved Country,” one of the most beautifully written and poignant pieces of historical fiction ever been written. I highly recommend it, both as a novel of faith and as a factual description of the urban-rural ramifications of South Africa’s racial divide. I’ve decided to include some extended passages from it, for Paton’s fictional description of apartheid is incredibly insightful. I hope this encourages you to go out and read it for yourself.

Stephen Kumalo, a native pastor and the narrator of the story, offers several prayers throughout his struggles: “And now for all the people of Africa, the beloved country. Nkosi Sikielel’ iAfrica, God save Africa. But he would not see that salvation. It lay afar off, because men were afraid of it. Because, to tell the truth, they were afraid of him… Yet men were afraid, with a fear that was deep, deep in the heart, a fear so deep that they hid their kindness, fierce and frowning eyes. They were afraid because they were so few.” “Cry, the beloved country, these things are not yet at an end. The sun pours down on the earth, on the lovely land that man cannot enjoy. He knows only the fear of his heart.”

Kumalo gives insight into the oppression of apartheid, but his witness is also a faith-filled invitation to salvation, a beacon of hope for those affected by racial injustice: “Who indeed knows the secret of the earthly pilgrimage? Who indeed knows why there can be comfort in a world of desolation? Now God be thanked that there is a beloved one who can lift up the heart in suffering, that one can play with a child in the face of such misery. Now God be thanked that the name of a hill is such music, that the name of a river can heal. Aye, even the name of a river that runs no more. Who indeed knows the secret of the earthly pilgrimage? Who knows for what we live, and struggle, and die? Who knows what keeps us living and struggling, while all the things break about us? Who knows why the warm flesh of a child is such comfort, when one’s own child is lost and cannot be recovered? Wise men write many books, in words too hard to understand. But this, the purpose of our lives, the end of all our struggle, is beyond all human wisdom. Oh God, my God, do not Thou forsake me. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil, if Thou art with me.”

An interaction between Kumalo and a friend:
“-This world is full of trouble, umfundisi (Reverend, in Zulu)
-Who knows it better?
-Yet you believe?
Kumalo looked at him under the light of the lamp.
-I believe, he said, but I have learned that it is a secret. Pain and suffering, they are a secret. Kindness and love, they are a secret. But I have learned that kindness and love, can pay for pain and suffering… so in my suffering, I can believe.
-I have never thought that a Christian would be free of suffering, unfundisi. For our Lord suffered. And I come to believe that he suffered, not to save us from suffering, but to teach us how to bear suffering. For he knows that there is no life without suffering.”

A final prayer from Stephen Kumalo: “Yes, God save Africa, the beloved country. God save us from the deep depths of our sins. God save us from the fear that is afraid of justice. God save us from the fear that is afraid of men. God save us all. Call oh small boy, with the long tremulous cry that echoes over the hills. Dance oh small boy, with the first slow steps of the dance that is for yourself. Call and dance, Innocence, call and dance while you may. For this is a prelude, it is only a beginning. Strange things will be woven into it, by men you have never heard of, in places you have never seen. It is life you are going into, you are not afraid because you do not know. Call and dance, call and dance.”

Elim Home

Cecilia Engel, Director of Elim Home; Vicki Schmidt, my mother.

The Elim Home

The town of Elim, population 1500, is located approximately 300 km east of Cape Town. To get there, we traveled on a small coastal highway tucked between the Indian Ocean and the towering Hotentot mountain range, then headed inland on a series of potholed gravel roads surrounded by sheep and ostrich farms. One feels transported back in time when entering; donkey-pulled wagons, Dutch-architecture, and thatched roofs all contribute to an old world feel. The town’s main industry, in fact, is producing and installing straw-thatched roofs! Elim also boasts of having southern Africa’s oldest and largest water wheel, a 14 foot diameter all-wood wheel that is still used for grinding wheat.

Elim Home was started by Pr. John in 1964 in response to a family in his congregation with a severely disabled son. It quickly grew to ten children with moderate to severe developmental disabilities. Today, the home has 50 residents ranging in age from 5-27; while most residents are discharged to their families (or other institutions) at age 18, many who were taken in as orphans are allowed to stay past their 18th birthday. Epilepsy, Cerebral Palsy, Down syndrome, and various birth defects make up the majority of diagnoses. In addition to taking care of their daily needs, the staff of 50 nurses and assistants programs various activities. Elim struggles for funding; with only 25% of their operating budget met by the government, they are constantly appealing to South African churches and other agencies for support. Staff members are underpaid, and many of their buildings need work. Because of its reputation for providing good care – a part of their history as one of most established institutions of its kind in South Africa - Elim has a long waiting list of applicants.

Cecelia Engel is the director of Elim. She is a registered nurse, but also works extensively with the Moravian church as a public health advocate and as a guest preacher. Wearing these multiple hats made her a perfect candidate to interview for my project. During our visit, she gave us a tour of the grounds, and introduced us to some of the residents and staff. She also showed us the farmyard where the home raises chickens and vegetables for food and to supplement their income. In our conversations, Cecelia revealed a deep passion for her work and for helping the children in her care. As a person of faith, she sees the Holy Spirit as a tangible, active force that keeps Elim afloat. Despite their financial struggles and staffing uncertainties, Cecelia reflects that the Spirit has always met their every need. Just when they have felt on the verge of bankruptcy, a large grant or donor has come through to help keep the home running.

Cecelia doesn’t try to pretend to understand the workings of the Spirit. While there is definitely a need to grow to provide for more residents, Cecelia says that “the Spirit only provides when the time is right.” She sees her work and her life as a journey of faith; her greatest joy is when a resident makes an unexpected breakthrough - such as learning to self-feed or communicate in a new way - when such learning was thought to be beyond their capability. In this way, the journey is full of twists, turns, and surprises. For Cecilia, this is the Spirit at its best! She says that she is constantly surprised by the Spirit and the way in which it infuses her residents and staff with life, love, and laughter.

Cape Town, South Africa

My mother first came to South Africa in 1967 to visit a friend, and has always said that she left a big part of her heart here when she left. I can see why. South Africa is an enchanting landscape of people, culture, history, and geography. There is much to say about the incredible vistas of the Cape, the geological wonders, and the diversity of flora and fauna. But there is also much to say about the turbulent history of oppression and apartheid, and the stories of people that lived through this history. It is these stories that got into my mother’s heart; people that shaped and formed her faith and understanding of the world.

She tells the story of how her friend here, the Rev. John Ulster, was unable to sit with her at a Cape Town soda fountain, but rather had to stand behind her chair because he is coloured. He was putting himself at risk just to show her around town, and could be arrested just for being in the same car as a white woman. My mom now says that this experience as a “young and naïve” traveler served to open her eyes to injustice in the world. It led to her lifetime calling of social-justice work in refugee resettlement, anti-apartheid efforts, and Central American relationship-building.

So, it is a real privilege to be here with my mom! It has also been a privilege to meet and have lunch with her longtime friend John, now 85 years old and the retired bishop of the Moravian Church in South Africa. When I was first developing my project themes, Mom suggested I talk to him. As a young pastor, John’s family was part of the government’s forced relocation of black and coloured families. Millions were removed from desirable property with inadequate warning or compensation, simply because the white minority-ruled government wanted the land for white citizens. The areas that non-whites were moved to were inadequate, offering little for industry, infrastructure, or employment. John’s had no choice but to move his family to the coloured township and take a call at half his previous salary.

He had no idea how they would survive, and wondered how he would put his five children through college. But he has learned to trust the work of the Holy Spirit. Now, at age 85, he says that he can look back and see how the Spirit has provided for him and his family along the way. His children all received bursaries for their studies, through both grade school and college. And their daily needs were met through the generosity of his parish. In fact, even though his parish was filled with relocated people suffering from poverty and the injustice of apartheid, they managed to do a lot of missionary outreach to their communities. One of these projects included the opening of the Elim residential home for developmentally disabled youth. John says that this was the Spirit at work, a Spirit that provided for those in need, a Spirit that uplifted and encouraged a group of parishioners that otherwise had little to be encouraged about.

Boundary Waters

Here are a few pics from my trip to the Boundary Waters with my brother, Matthew. We spent a week along the MN-Ontario border, canoeing roughly 40 miles, and portaging about 10 miles. I've got some great shots of the loons that I'll put up later (contrary to popular belief, the MN state bird is the Common Loon, not the mosquito!)
















Matthew, my personal gourmet camp chef!




Straddling the border between Canada (on the left) and Minnesota.
















Not a whole lot of luck with the fishing, which is probably good, considering my lack of a fishing license. Oops.