Ah, there are so many stories to tell. But this one comes from a
heavy heart. It keeps echoing through my heart, inviting itself to be
told.

I am a Lutheran. One who understands that God is a God of grace. So,
with that in mind, this is tough.

On Monday of this week I visited the parish of Nazareth, a rural
mountainous parish about an hour’s drive south of Dundee on a dirt
road. The church (and school) at Nazareth was built by the German
mission society in about 1929 for the Zulu people. It has fortress
thick walls, like I would assume old German cathedral walls had.
There is a white German Jesus for an altar painting. A mile or two
down the road is a German Lutheran Church. The people who worship
there still worship in German. There were many mission societies that
came from Germany, so I have no idea if the same group built both
churches or not. However, slowly the people of the Zulu congregation
explained to me what had happened in that remote corner of South
Africa. One of the troubling things of apartheid was that there was
legislation that forcibly separated the blacks and the whites. The
Zulu were deported to areas that the whites didn’t consider to be of
commercial importance. And so it was that the land that the Zulu were
living on in the area around Nazareth was considered to be good crop
land. According to the Zulu telling the story, their German Lutheran
neighbors wanted their land, and so asked the government to have them
deported. I asked for clarity, “Did the white Lutherans do that?”
and they said yes. In fact, they said, to this day the white
Lutherans will have nothing to do with them. A couple of years ago a
man from the white German congregation died. He had been a shop
keeper and in the course of doing business had made many Zulu friends.
And so many Zulu came to his funeral. They were forcibly not allowed
into the church, and had to sit outside during the service. They told
me that there were 2 such instances in the past 3 years. The dean of
the circuit (the lead pastor) told me that to have a visit with the
white German pastor he has to go in through the kitchen (doesn’t sound
like its a regular occurance!!!). He is not allowed in through the
front door. This is today. Not 30 or 40 years ago. The Nazareth
parish only has a few Zulu in it. All the people are 40-50 miles
away, in a new church that they call Nazareth, in honor of their old
home. The church, while structurally sound, has had no tender loving
care for a long time. There aren’t enough people to care for it.
What have we corporately as Lutherans done? Do we own some
responsibility for brothers and sisters abroad who treat their
Lutheran neighbors as though they were less than human? In Germany
during World War II there were many Lutherans that didn’t speak up.
Bonhoeffer did. I’m told that if Germans from Germany visit the area
they won’t have anything to do with their German counterparts in the
area. I expressed my sorrow at the treatment of my Zulu Lutheran
brethren. Strongly. Vocally. But is that where my responsibility
ends? Ignoring my German Lutheran brethren who continue to wound?
I’m not asking these questions because I have answers. I ask because
I ache at what I saw in one little hidden part of the world. Perhaps
unhiding is a part of healing? Lutherans claim to understand grace.
What does grace look like here?

I saw many more effects of apartheid. The Zulu “homeland” (as
designated by the government) is mountainous and rocky. Waste land
that no one else wanted. People struggle to eek out a living. Now
there is the possibility of returning to the good lands that they
lived on before. But when one has been gone for 40 or many more
years, does one leave ones’ current family and friends to return?
Will people be able to make it if they do return? Many don’t have the
technical skills to be competitive.

One of the many destructive affects of apartheid is in the attitudes
toward the land. One of the few ways that a young adult could get an
education was to earn a bit of money working as a “garden boy”… To
say “garden boy” they needed to say no more… it was a humiliating
degrading position that those hungering for an education put up with.
Bheki Mathe, who was with us in Minnesota this past spring, told of
working as a garden boy to put his way through college. He said that
the whites would put his coffee next to the dog house, where the dog
would pee in it. The Zulu were considered no better than dogs. One
of the ways that we affirmed the land was to state that we worked the
land ourselves. Over and over again I stated that we who were from
the US like to get our fingers dirty. In one sermon I stated that one
of the ways that the white South Africans had enslaved the Zulu was to
teach them that to work the land was a degrading thing, not a
privilege. I talked about how God has blessed us and gifted us with
land, Zulu and white alike, and we are invited to care for the land.
Princess, the head of the partnership committee, stated as she
introduced me once that she was amazed to see that a pastor knew
things about gardening. When I would walk into a garden I would feel
the soil, talk with people about my garden and theirs… admiring,
praising, pointing out a few possibilities for raising more produce.
There are simple things, like crop rotation, like proper planting
distances, like removing bugs. Water is a problem. The whites took
the land that has proper clay amounts. They also took most of the
land where there would be adequate water supplies. The Zulu now have
the right to reclaim these lands, but that doesn’t make it easy.

Speaking of images…
http://www.matthewsullivan.org/zagallery/v/rsulliva2008za/2008-02-04/IMG_3903.JPG.html
will give you one view of the church I was speaking of… If
you wish to see a bunch more pictures, Matthew (thanks, Matthew!) has
placed all my pictures on the web. Just back up to
www.matthewsullivan.org/zagallery and you can access all the pictures.
However, it will be a while before I get labels on them (keep
checking back). Linda and David Pedersen have also entered their
pictures from the trip. And they are all labeled. Enjoy!

More later.
May God’s peace guard and guide our hearts and minds as we struggle to
continue to make sense of all the we have seen and heard.
Revkah

Ah, there are so many stories to tell. But this one comes from a
heavy heart. It keeps echoing through my heart, inviting itself to be
told.

I am a Lutheran. One who understands that God is a God of grace. So,
with that in mind, this is tough.

On Monday of this week I visited the parish of Nazareth, a rural
mountainous parish about an hour’s drive south of Dundee on a dirt
road. The church (and school) at Nazareth was built by the German
mission society in about 1929 for the Zulu people. It has fortress
thick walls, like I would assume old German cathedral walls had.
There is a white German Jesus for an altar painting. A mile or two
down the road is a German Lutheran Church. The people who worship
there still worship in German. There were many mission societies that
came from Germany, so I have no idea if the same group built both
churches or not. However, slowly the people of the Zulu congregation
explained to me what had happened in that remote corner of South
Africa. One of the troubling things of apartheid was that there was
legislation that forcibly separated the blacks and the whites. The
Zulu were deported to areas that the whites didn’t consider to be of
commercial importance. And so it was that the land that the Zulu were
living on in the area around Nazareth was considered to be good crop
land. According to the Zulu telling the story, their German Lutheran
neighbors wanted their land, and so asked the government to have them
deported. I asked for clarity, “Did the white Lutherans do that?”
and they said yes. In fact, they said, to this day the white
Lutherans will have nothing to do with them. A couple of years ago a
man from the white German congregation died. He had been a shop
keeper and in the course of doing business had made many Zulu friends.
And so many Zulu came to his funeral. They were forcibly not allowed
into the church, and had to sit outside during the service. They told
me that there were 2 such instances in the past 3 years. The dean of
the circuit (the lead pastor) told me that to have a visit with the
white German pastor he has to go in through the kitchen (doesn’t sound
like its a regular occurance!!!). He is not allowed in through the
front door. This is today. Not 30 or 40 years ago. The Nazareth
parish only has a few Zulu in it. All the people are 40-50 miles
away, in a new church that they call Nazareth, in honor of their old
home. The church, while structurally sound, has had no tender loving
care for a long time. There aren’t enough people to care for it.
What have we corporately as Lutherans done? Do we own some
responsibility for brothers and sisters abroad who treat their
Lutheran neighbors as though they were less than human? In Germany
during World War II there were many Lutherans that didn’t speak up.
Bonhoeffer did. I’m told that if Germans from Germany visit the area
they won’t have anything to do with their German counterparts in the
area. I expressed my sorrow at the treatment of my Zulu Lutheran
brethren. Strongly. Vocally. But is that where my responsibility
ends? Ignoring my German Lutheran brethren who continue to wound?
I’m not asking these questions because I have answers. I ask because
I ache at what I saw in one little hidden part of the world. Perhaps
unhiding is a part of healing? Lutherans claim to understand grace.
What does grace look like here?

I saw many more effects of apartheid. The Zulu “homeland” (as
designated by the government) is mountainous and rocky. Waste land
that no one else wanted. People struggle to eek out a living. Now
there is the possibility of returning to the good lands that they
lived on before. But when one has been gone for 40 or many more
years, does one leave ones’ current family and friends to return?
Will people be able to make it if they do return? Many don’t have the
technical skills to be competitive.

One of the many destructive affects of apartheid is in the attitudes
toward the land. One of the few ways that a young adult could get an
education was to earn a bit of money working as a “garden boy”… To
say “garden boy” they needed to say no more… it was a humiliating
degrading position that those hungering for an education put up with.
Bheki Mathe, who was with us in Minnesota this past spring, told of
working as a garden boy to put his way through college. He said that
the whites would put his coffee next to the dog house, where the dog
would pee in it. The Zulu were considered no better than dogs. One
of the ways that we affirmed the land was to state that we worked the
land ourselves. Over and over again I stated that we who were from
the US like to get our fingers dirty. In one sermon I stated that one
of the ways that the white South Africans had enslaved the Zulu was to
teach them that to work the land was a degrading thing, not a
privilege. I talked about how God has blessed us and gifted us with
land, Zulu and white alike, and we are invited to care for the land.
Princess, the head of the partnership committee, stated as she
introduced me once that she was amazed to see that a pastor knew
things about gardening. When I would walk into a garden I would feel
the soil, talk with people about my garden and theirs… admiring,
praising, pointing out a few possibilities for raising more produce.
There are simple things, like crop rotation, like proper planting
distances, like removing bugs. Water is a problem. The whites took
the land that has proper clay amounts. They also took most of the
land where there would be adequate water supplies. The Zulu now have
the right to reclaim these lands, but that doesn’t make it easy.

Speaking of images…
http://www.matthewsullivan.org/zagallery/v/rsulliva2008za/2008-02-04/IMG_3903.JPG.html
will give you one view of the church I was speaking of… If
you wish to see a bunch more pictures, Matthew (thanks, Matthew!) has
placed all my pictures on the web. Just back up to
www.matthewsullivan.org/zagallery and you can access all the pictures.
However, it will be a while before I get labels on them (keep
checking back). Linda and David Pedersen have also entered their
pictures from the trip. And they are all labeled. Enjoy!

More later.
May God’s peace guard and guide our hearts and minds as we struggle to
continue to make sense of all the we have seen and heard.
Revkah

This may be a quickie. I’m waiting to leave from a place. I’ve spent
quite a bit of time this morning teaching email? so now I’ve a couple
of minutes.

Each day has been so different.
On Monday we spent about 9 hours in church? an awesome worship
followed by a meal and a meeting that brought together the circuit
council and the partnership committee? the question of the day is
what role does the circuit want to play in agricultural things? it’s
a conversaion one piece at a time?

Monday we got to see a place where the chief offered to the church
some land that is well fenced and would work well for the raising of
chickens. The feeling I had was that our presence was “political
capital”? offering to people the opportunity for their own
negotiations?

Then on Tuesday we went over some mountains to a valley where the
government had put in a large water pump to pump water from the river.
But communication breakdowns and misunderstandings had prevented
anything from happening. So the pump and the irrigation system sat
unused. So we were in the position of mediatiors. We find that there
are resources available but that there is not always the connecting of
the dots? or there is a piece missing to use the technology. So, we
have been doing bits of teaching and encouragement along the way.
Sometimes it is as simple as stating that one could do a double or a
triple row of onions instead of a single row. Sometimes it is helping
them to know what to do with a particular bug? sometimes it is
helping them to realize that there are incountry resources.

Yesterday we saw Longlands, a very large farm that has been returned
to the Zulu? however, there is no water. But the land is very
beautiful and has been fully farmed in the past. Much larger than can
be farmed with even a small tractor, but no funds to begin the
farming. So how? That is the question. Mark and John, we really
needed you yesterday, although Dan did a great job. Lots of space for
corn? which is what they want to plant. More when we are in person.

These past few days I’ve begun to long to go home for brief moments?
but then we get so involved for the day that there really aren’t
moments to think about it. And people have been so very very generous
and kind that one feels totally undeserving. Yesterday I was
“installed” as a Zulu woman? wow.

God is good. The miracles and the provisions for the day keep
happening. I can’t wait to tell you all about it in person.

Oh yes, people get a big kick of the fact that I can’t quit asking
questions? nothing has changed!!! I keep saying, “one more
question”? and then there is one more, and so forth.
God bless you. I’ll see you soon!
Becky

What are our goals? Partnership. Building self esteem. Looking at connections for the future. There is much to do, but we have been reminded that it is God who does the doing? we plant a few seeds.

Another brief glimpse? (hopefully this is a new one? I don’t totally remember what I’ve written)? 10 women from one congregation, widows all, decided to build a cooperative? they got a hold of 7 sewing machines, and they sew school uniforms (a requirement for all SA students), and also hospital gowns. When we arrived only 2 machines were working? Juanita and Gary took two of them back, figured out what the problems were, and then Juanita went back and taught them
sewing machine repair. Its little, but it is a great boost for a few women.

Christine is working at the Old Age Home at Rorke’s Drift. She’s finding her time rewarding. She’s working on teaching wound care and
infection control. She says that the residents are delightful, and the workers are eager to learn. She’s looking forward to keeping in
touch with the Old Age Home. Lois has said that the quality of the ceramicists could make them university quality. I am bringing home a few simple pieces… others
are bringing home weavings… (I am too cheap for them!)

How I must scoot. Mostly not a whole lot more that you will hear from me. I will be visiting the rest of the parishes next week? that will be incredibly intense? listening, listening, listening. And sleeping in a different bed every night. But people’s hospitality is amazing. People are interested and interesting. I think when I get home, though, I will sleep for 2 solid days. Do you know the hymn, God, my Lord, my strength, my place of Hiding? It keeps running thorugh my mind. Look it up in LBW. The words it ends with are these? God shall have his way. We know that we can trust it. Now and always!

God’s peace and joy!!
Revkah

It would not surprise me if this is the last day that I would be able to send something. If I return to Rorke’s Drift there will be no access. Perhaps in some other places.

This coming Sunday all of us from Watonwan are invited to participate in an ALL parish Shiyane Circuit worship. I will be preaching. They have rented a hall in Dundee, because there will be no worship space large enough. It is something they do a couple of times a year? the equilivant of everyone from Watonwan River Conference gathering for a 3 hour worship service. However, this one is to honor the visitors from America, and to celebrate our partnership. I will be preaching.
I welcome your prayers. It is amazing the texts appointed for this Sunday? Isaiah 55? something like 5-12? as the snow and rain return to the earth so my word will accomplish that which I have set out to accomplish? (my very loose paraphrase? look it up!!!)

We have all needed the down time that we’ve had here at the game reserve. God has deeply gifted us with time to share. I have never so fully understood why God uses the command of Sabbath. However, the exhausting pace we have been keeping, the Sabbath is indeed gift. I went out on one game drive and have just rested the rest of the time. There are so many people who want to talk. There are so many places to see.

Yesterday we gathered to share the deepest feelings. They ran the gamut? hope, discouragement, and everything in between. Over it all was the presence of God.

One thing that part of our group did at the end of our stay in Shiyane before coming to the game park was visit a seed store. They looked at the seed and the possibilities available for weed and insect control. They explained many things. One of the shop clerks asked Barb and Princess (the head of the partnership committee for Shiyane) what all the talk was about? she said that they were teaching them about modern methods of farming. The white woman asked why they didn’t get that help from their neighbors, and she responded, because no one has offered their help.

Some of the challenges that we have seen are unreliable water sources, some of the soil being quite sandy, and the need to adequately fence all plots so that the naimals, wild and otherwise, don’t get access to the plots. it is indeed quite a challenge!!! also, farming isn’t necessarily a great interest among the young…

an incredible asset is the eagerness of some to learn, and in those people the depth of hope despite their struggles.

Tomorrow we go to Umphumulo to a meeting of the four circuits that we have been visiting. (Shiyane, Ondini, Umvoti, and Durban) Everything
continues to be surprise. May God bless our meeting! We can but give a cup of cold water. But it is a cup of hope. We don’t know what the future holds, but we know Who holds the future.

God bless you all.
Revkah

I promised you yesterday that I would let you know a bit more about what has been happening… I only have the info for the Watonwan part of the group. But here it is.

We arrived in Rorke’s Drift Thursday evening. That is a place you can google. At Rorke’s Drift there is an Arts and Crafts Center as well as agricultural land.

Frida we had a long meeting with people who gathered from all over the Shiyane Circuit. We began some basic sharing. We heard from the people who were partnership folk as well as those who were there from ag sights. Then Saturday we went out to visit a cooperative garden site. The women who were working there gathered and started singing a welcome as they each came to greet us. What a welcome. It was a large garden. Some things were doing very well. Some had bug problems. We looked we shared we listened. In the afternoon we split up, sending people out by twos to different parishes. Folk had very different experiences… the ones who stayed in Rorke’s Drift (Mark and Tim, the camera man, and myself… got into number of other spots. One had heavier land. One lighter. The biggest question as how do you control the weeds… some of the challenges included the lack of male presence… it would take a long time to fully understand the reasons for that.

We met many gracious and energetic folk… one young man was asking for advice on what he might try to study in university. Another wants to be an artist… some have big dreams, some have seemingly hopeless obstacles. Yet there is a lot of hope. There are plans there are cooperatives.

Sunday there was worship in a brand new church. I had the opportunity to preach. A woman translated. Their text was the farmer who hired folk to work in the vineyard. Wow! Couldn’t have been a better text to talk about how Jesus offers to folk stories that meet them where they are at to offer them the opportunity to know God’s grace. The service lasted for about 2.5 hours… singing, praying, worshipping. God is good…

I want to let you know about a place where 100 folk are worshipping in a garage… they take the car out on Sunday morning, scrub the floor… they long for their own place to worship, but for the time being…

And then there is the 9 year old that doesn’t come to school on Thursday and Friday… he cares for his 6 year old brother, and on Thursday and Friday he has to go to the garbage dump to collect food that the grocery store has just dumped. Otherwise he has nothing to eat for the next week.

Now we are at the game reserve. A beautiful spot. Quite a contrast… it is a 5 star hotel, with a buffet grand and extravagant. We had a bull elephant coming toward us on the game drive this morning. Wow. Gorgeous. Poverty and extravagance exist next door to each other. Despair and incredible hope. But through it all we have encountered great hospitality.

Sometimes the power doesn’t work. It is long and hard to find a place to send an email. But God is gracious, and has sustained us for each and every day. God is indeed good.

There have been stressors. Most of us have hit the wall at one time or another. One of the gifts is that it hasn’t been the same time for each of us so that we could be there for each other.

Now I have to head out to a planning meeting. Hopefully this will go through.

God bless each and every one of you.

We know you are praying because of the peace in our hearts which has indeed passed all understanding.

Becky.

We have just arrived at the game reserve.  We haven’t had any access for the past few days.  I want to let you know that we have been mightily blessed with the presence of many courageous people.  At the same time we know so little of their struggles.

I will write a bit more shortly, but want to get this one on the way.  Thanks for all your emails and all your prayers. 

God bless you all. 

More tomorrow. 
Becky

Harold Wolle Jr. runs 1,600 acres of prime corn and soybean land, using the latest in machinery, computer technology and farm-management techniques.

This week he’ll be in South Africa hoping to help some fellow farmers who have little if any farm equipment, own only a few head of livestock and are just beginning to farm land they now own after years of apartheid.

Wolle, who is traveling with two dozen area farmers, clergy, business people and academics, doesn’t expect they will be able to offer any quick help that will transform South African agriculture. Instead, he’s looking to kindle a friendship and understanding that can be built upon…

You can read the whole article at: The Mankato Free Press

I arrived safely, and have had an incredibly blessed and busy time ever since.

I can’t share everything with you, but I would like to share two things with you briefly.

The day after we arrived we went to visit in Soweto. It was a totally amazing day, learning a bit about the story about Apartheid, and what it meant for so many. One of the places which we visited was the Hector Pieterson museum. It tells the story of the children against apartheid within Soweto. Specifically, it tells about when the children began a peaceful march objecting to the government mandating that all school instruction be done in Afrikaans, the language of Apartheid. (Formerly it had been done in their local languages and in English). Hector was the first boy killed, and the picture was spread around the world. Then there were many more children who were killed. As I walked through the museum an anthem that I had learned while I was at Trinity in Truman kept coming to me? First time I had thought about it in years? What have we done, what have we done? We’ve crucified God’s own son. I thought the connection strange until I realized that we continue to crucify God’s own son when the powerless in our midst are wounded and killed? What do we continue to do in our world?

That was on Thursday. On Friday we spent the day moving out to Newcastle (Becky and Juanita) and Rorke’s Drift (Gary, Lois, David, and Don). There were no major problems, just a bunch of glitches that made that day many hours longer than it was intended to be!!!

On Saturday we attended the most amazing gathering that I believe that I have ever attended? a celebration of healing for a young adult who had been tormented by demons? Many pastors had gathered and had laid hands on her, and now she is whole. We (Juanita and I) traveled 8 hours round trip with 10 people in our vehicle to be present for the celebration. They told us that there was going to be a short worship service? Well, short was 3 hours. Filled with Zulu praise song, thanking God? Talking about God’s presence and the hope of eternal life we have in God. After prayer we would sing. After everything we would sing. And when the father broke down and started to cry we broke into song while he composed himself. A very long day, but one unlike any other. When we were done thanking God then we were entertained with Zulu dancers and a feast. Oh, if we would so publicly stop to give praise in our country!!!

God’s peace and joy.
Revkah (Hebrew for Rebecca)

PS… today we had 3 hours of festive worship followed by a potluck and then a 2 hour gathering of conversation. God is indeed good! even keeping me awake and helping with jet lag… amazing.