High Drama on the Cape Flats

Many years ago I served two separate congregations in “The Cape”. For our international readers “The Cape” refers to The Cape Province of South Africa, historically known as The Cape of Good Hope.

In terms of its 20th century political history it may be better named “The Cape of Lost Hope”. This essay ponders one such story out of myriads reflective of a set of sad circumstances affecting the lives of people on the Cape Flats who “Lost Hope” – people my wife and I served with great joy, and who gave us even greater joy in return.

The congregations we served were in the “Mother City”, Cape Town. The congregations met a relatively short distance from each other. But, Apartheid Laws demanded that we meet separately because one congregation was “white” and the other was, within the South Africa context, “Coloured”. “Coloureds” were people of, so called, “mixed blood”. The term is oxymoronically racist. According to Scripture there can never be people of “mixed blood”.

Scripture states plainly: “And [God] has made of one blood all nations of men for to dwell on all the face of the earth, and has determined the times before appointed, and the bounds of their habitation.” [Acts 17:26. Author’s emphases throughout.]

Paul refers to Deuteronomy 32:8 from which some, particularly within the South African context, will immediately focus, not on the “one blood” but on the fact that the Eternal “divided [Hebrew: bequeathed, gave -- as in many other versions of the Bible] to the nations their inheritance, when he separated [dispersed, divided] the sons of Adam, he set the bounds [borders, regions, territory] of the people according to the number of the children of Israel” [Deut 32:8]. The argument they present will be that God “separated” the nations, therefore Yehovah is a God of Apartheid [apart-ness or separate-ness].

None can cogently argue that Yehovah did not set national or ethnic boundaries for the separate development of the 70 national families stemming from Noah’s three sons. Scripture speaks plainly. God divided the nations by separating them geographically [Gen 11:1-9]. He separated them linguistically, deliberately “confounded their language” and "scattered them” because “nothing will be restrained from them”.

It was GOOD that men were divided, separated in different areas and kept apart in different groups or nations otherwise their united actions would very soon again have produced the same deeply sinful society as was extant before the flood.

Consider: Whereas the antediluvian society took 1650 years to develop and decay to the point where the Eternal had to totally annihilate it, and that from one pair whose offspring all spoke the same language and thus communicated freely, sharing technological advances, brilliant discoveries and inventions, the post-flood society, developing from three pairs could, hypothetically, have developed three times faster to reach that critical mass of sin within only 550 years. This would have demanded another total extermination of humanity soon after the death of Abraham! By dividing mankind each nation-family had to struggle ahead on its own – and, of course, murdering each other in wars to secure food, greater territory and better land, despite the Eternal's predetermined land distribution to each tribe, nation or race as their divinely appointed inheritance.

By separating the nations the progress towards re-annihilation of the human race was curtailed significantly, lasting up to today, 4370 years later. [The flood occurring at 2350 BC and adding 2020 AD years equals 4370 years.] The progress towards a second major human extinction was, hypothetically speaking, delayed by 3820 years, if reckoned up to our time.

Thus, in mercy GOD DIVIDED THE NATIONS!

However, when considering HUMAN INTERRELATIONSHIPS within the ecclesia, then grace-elected, Christ-accepting, blood-cleansed, spirit-filled, scripture-believing, law-abiding, Christ-followers, living according to New Covenant norms, values and dictums [that is, by the Commandments of God], then there exists no need for corporate separation, social division, ethnic apart-ness – or, bluntly stated: ecclesiastical Apartheid!

The Eternal promised Abraham, the “Father of the faith,” that Messiah will proceed from him. “In thy seed shall all the nations of the earth be blessed…” [Gen 22:18].

This promise is confirmed in the New Covenant. “Now to Abraham and his seed were the promises made. He saith not, And to seeds, as of many; but as of one, And to thy seed, which is Christ” [Gal 3:16]. Abraham does not have multiple seeds of promise that need to be separated!

This seed, Christ, was to descend from the tribe of Judah. “For it is evident that our Lord sprang out of Judah…” [Heb 7:14]. And, Christ confirmed: “… salvation is of the Jews” [John 4:22].

The Apostle to the Gentiles, Paul, emphatically declared with all the force and inspiration of the holy spirit that: “…if thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thine heart that God hath raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved. ... For there is no difference between the Jew and the Greek [Gentile]: for the same Lord over all is rich unto all that call upon him [Romans 10:9-12].

Since Scripture confirms clearly that, concerning the status of believers in Christ, there is no difference between ethnic groups, it was my aim to unite in Christ the two Cape Town congregations; considering neither tribal nor ethnic origin, skin pigmentation, linguistic preferences and peculiarities, cultural idiosyncrasies or Governmental classifications.

Furthermore, considering that one of the leading teachers and prophets in the early church was a black man, “Simon called Niger (Black)” [Acts 13:1], it seemed absurd to keep brethren of like mind and faith separate.

But, Apartheid laws prohibited us from meeting in unity.

However, as soon as the prohibition against “mixed (racial) gatherings” were unofficially relaxed I brought the two congregations together with certain provisos. Not to be too brave and socially conspicuous we kept an invisible “wall of partitioning” [the center isle] between us. [How ludicrous and outrageously insensitive all this sounds today!]

There was an interesting but seriously contradictory aftermath to this “brave and bold” decision. It wasn’t the Apartheid police who censored or arrested me for contravening the Apartheid Laws – it was our own Church authorities! They demanded to know “by what authority” I dare bring the two congregations together. It thus appeared that one can act within Scriptural law but find oneself outside Church law!

I thought that it was perfectly legal in the sight of our Almighty heavenly father by decree of sited Scriptures, and in terms of the more moderate approach of the then still Apartheid South African Government to unite in Christ.

I accepted the ecclesiastical castigation and a transfer out of Cape Town to the very heart of Afrikaner conservativism, Pretoria … where, guess what? I again pastored two separate congregations, one totally black, comprised of an admixture of the indigenous tribes of southern Africa, mainly Zulus, Xhosas, Sotho’s, and Tswanas. This time the congregations remained apart for two reasons: the deeply entrenched and ossified Apartheid attitudes in this, the most conservative city in South Africa, and for logistical reasons. [Extreme distances and lack of transportation infrastructures made it impractical for the black brethren living in the expansive outskirts of Pretoria, to meet in central Pretoria.]

But, I digressed too far from the “Drama on the Cape Flats” and will now return to this episode and its incongruities, contradictions and social distancing – not of a few meters, but of some miles!

Within this corporately divided body of Christ in the Cape the following absurdity confronted me. A middle-aged lady attending the European [“white”] church, tremulously approached me; highly perturbed and emotionally deeply distraught. A guilt-ridden past daily raked at her passionate, conscious-plagued spirit. She had a major, soul-ripping admission to make. Her long overdue confession and shameful secret, she felt, had to be revealed. Her fake and fraudulent life-representation, cloaking her dark past, had to be shed, finally.

Stammering and tearfully she confessed that she should not be attending the “white” congregation anymore; for, she continued: “I am a Coloured.”

Oh, what disgrace! Shame! Horror of horrors! Her painful heart was ripped apart for having to confess this devastating secret.

I stared at her in flabbergasted disbelief. In front of me sat an educated and cultivated lady, as European in appearance and features, in manner and culture, in education and demeanor, as any of the “purest” white sophisticates in South Africa. In fact, she was whiter than many “white” South Africans!

She explained her dilemma. She was the daughter of an extremely wealthy South African farmer, well-known for his fine Arabian thoroughbreds, his vast holdings, and his superior export wines. She grew up on his farm amongst several Coloured families, all neatly tucked away behind a distant knoll; however, near enough to come running to serve when summoned, but living out of plain sight from any white visitors and family. The boisterous, ever “happy-with-our-lot”, laughing, vibrant, barefoot children had to be unseen and unheard, kept away from the stately Dutch-gabled historic home. The enduring edifice of the wealthy white-washed walls of an Afrikaner aristocratic establishment, rooted deeply in the extraordinary fertile soil of the Cape winelands, must not experience “coloured contamination”, despite being spawned in hypocritical “white respectability"!

Irony screams out to irony! Those white walls are so kept by a skinny, tobacco-chewing contingent of “Coloureds”.

The corpulently overfed handlebar moustached landlord waving his ebony and ivory, gold embroidered, walking stick with his fleshy matriarch commanding all with authoritarian confidence, and three “white” children that should have been named Plump, Podge and Pudge, were magnificently nurtured on Steak au Poivre Vert during noon luncheons. Gorgonzola and Bobotie snacks served at three hours past noon. At 19h00 -- sharp! -- the overstuffed, weary wealthy, will sumptuously feast on Duck done in Orange and Van Der Hum sauce, Leg of Lamb, Crepes Ratatouille, an assortment of fresh garden greens [planted and cared for by “coloured” green fingers nursing soil and vegetable with generations of agronomic wisdom]. The liquid red comes from “Master’s” private bin of Superior Cabernet Sauvignon. Rich aromas of Jamaican coffee and Jewish Cheese Blintzes, delicately prepared by masterful “coloured” hands, await the surfeited souls who will retire to a small-scale Versailles-like lounge stocked with, inter alia, the finest Cape brandies, Scotch whiskies, Russian Vodkas and French chocolate liqueurs. The next day the over-privileged might feast on grilled skaapribbetjies, sosaties, pickled galjoen and smoked kalkoen …

Thus life continued on the farm of her father whose house she was never to enter, except to perform some menial tasks for half-brothers and -sisters, pot-bellied, gout-gripped Papa. And screeching, stentorian voiced "Miesies" which at 110 decibels on G#6 could be the combined envy of Mado Robin, Natalie Dessay and Beverley Hoch.

But -- and here’s the great tragic unfoldment -- our “Coloured” lady remembered her painful youth as a skinny, barefoot, tatterdemalion, but still a happy-go-lucky waif. But the wrenching, overwrought, pain-filled thought of opening up these old memories by a return to her "Coloured cousins" in the church, was an emotional torment consuming her heart, cell by cell. She had to expose herself, her past, her life, her perceived “shame”.

Her life was precariously hovering on the threshold of an astronomically high emotional abyss. Like Jacob of old [whose offspring she was without having the faintest awareness thereof!] she wrestled with an imaginary force, a self-perceived Angel of doom. She imagined her very spiritual and emotional existence was to be destroyed, because her long-held secret was about to be exposed by the arrival of a “pure bred Afrikaner” who had recently entered the congregation. This “pure bred”, blue eyed, rosy complexioned lady, strutting proudly and erect in her Afrikaner-ness, knew our self-deprecating lady as a “kleurling kind” [a “Coloured child”] on the farm!

Fearing she would be recognized and exposed as an interloper into the white community – and this more than 30 years after leaving the farm! – this lady, now sensing an emotional return to her true origins on the farm, perceiving rejection and humiliation once again as “racially inferior”, sought to be removed from the European congregation.

I refused!

Apart from the Eternal having placed her in the European congregation, our white-cum-Coloured lady was no imposter. Legally she was classified white by the Nationalist Apartheid Government who after their 1948 election victory, hurriedly classified and registered people according to “race”.

The classification was done based on appearance! In this manner she was classified by a government official as “European” and escaped the humiliating and demeaning experiences many of her family and school friends had to experience in later years. She merged into the European community quite naturally. She found well-paying “white” employment, married into the white community and birthed white children.

If this story smacks of racism, it is! It is the type of real-life drama that produced unnumbered agonies on the Cape Flats. It was bizarre. It was tragic. But fully illustrative of the vicissitudes underlying the Apartheid absurdities of the time.

Her secret has remained with me till this day. She passed away without having to fight the devil of apartheid humiliation WITHIN THE BODY OF CHRIST. I have never revealed her identity. This is a real case and not a parable. But by the use of scripturally utilized literary devices, hyperbole and hypocatastasis [exaggeration, stating more than is literally meant, and implied resemblance or representation --- see, inter alia, Deut 1:28 and Mat 15:13, 16:6], in describing her family setting, I ensured that neither she nor they can be identified.

Hers is not the only such story. There are many more similar accounts of tragedy, humiliation, suffering, debasement and human degradation still traversing the impoverished Cape Flats. And, the spectre of these sagas hover menacingly over the vast community thrust unceremoniously onto the Cape Flats. Shall I detail the narrative of a "Coloured" octogenarian who had to pose as a gardener to visit his “white” sister? And others? No. The painfully heart-ripping stories are, as the demoniac said to Christ, “Legion”! Mountains of heartaches, bigger than famed Table Mountain casting its cold evening shadows over the Cape Flats, lie obscured, painfully enshrouded, in the psyche of thousands of people.

But, why have I told this story?

It is to boldly declare to a community scorned that there is a hope, a dynamic, real-life expectation looming on the horizon which they can joyfully anticipate with such jubilant cheer as has never been manifested in any “Kaapse Klopse” parade. The preparation and anticipation, the labor, the bright and brilliantly conceived costumes – all with its separate glories – will pale into insignificance and become a vague, meaningless memory in comparison.

There’s a glory in ascent on the eastern horizon. And as certain as the sun will come up tomorrow over the peaks of the Hottentots-Holland, and as certain as the splendor and glory, the beauty and grandeur of the “table cloth” spill over Table Mountain, so certain will be the new majesty, the harmony, the peace, the dignity, the respect, the pride and honor that will be given to all people who will accept the eternal gift of grace from Messiah to enter real Versailles-like palaces which will adorn the restored and re-beautified Cape Flats, the Cape coastlands and the farms. This glorious manifestation is but a few years hence.

Our lady savored the sour slop brewed by humans who were conquered by an ideology which caused them to behave absurdly. Their "politically correct" behavior was exercised at the expense of compassion, despite being very 'Christian'.

Hers was but one of the high human dramas that unfolded on the Cape Flats. Like too many others, hers is a story of "concealed identity" embroiled in a spectacle of life which destroyed her dignity. Struggling with shame she fought for survival amidst enemies – real and imagined. It is a story of fear of foes, fear of betrayal, and fear of a nationalism that suppressed true Christian charity and crushed human mercy -- even amongst those timid "white" souls who privately damned their own silent complicity.

Our dear lady has passed on to her rest. She awaits her reward. She awaits her rebirth into the millennial Kingdom of Christ; a Kingdom that will rule the Cape Flats; a Kingdom that will reign over the farmlands that once absorbed the vibrancy of her youthful dancing feet and vineyards that enjoyed her innocent jocundity.

Having been promised to rule and reign as kings and priests [Rev 5:10], she will be empowered and granted rulership to help restore and rebuild the waste places of a land she could not freely and fully enjoy without fear and frustration. She will be a teacher to her resurrected overfed proud father who savoured more than the mere culinary delights of his "kitchen maid" once too often.

Our lady in Christ will be part of that restoration of which the great prophet spoke in anticipation of the returning Messiah most merciful: “For Yehovah shall comfort Zion: he will comfort all her waste places; and he will make her wilderness like Eden, and her desert like the garden of Yehovah. Joy and gladness shall be found therein, thanksgiving, and the voice of melody” [Isa 51:3].

image credit: Dana Allen