SPECIAL REPORT • MISSION IN AN AFRICAN CONTEXT

Jesus Christ Our Ancestor

Mission means inculturation, namely the Gospel taking root in every culture. An eminent pioneer of African theology was the Tanzanian born, Prof. Charles yamiti. One of the founders of the East African Catholic University in Nairobi, he taught theology for many years there. His contribution to Christological reflection in Africa was outstanding: “Who is Jesus for Africans in their cultural milieu?”

BY Laurenti Magesa | Hekima University College, Nairobi

IN THE strict sense of the concept, ‘African theology’, as a theological genre within the Christian churches (and, in the specific case of this article, within the Catholic Church), is barely 60 years old. The notion began to be boldly proposed and openly claimed only in the 1940s and 1950s. It was understood to denote a distinctive way of thinking about and articulating the Christian faith tradition by taking seriously into account, African spirituality, culture and religion. By this was meant the comprehensive way of understanding the world and their place in it by the black peoples of the African continent.

Two texts published during these decades were seminal in the rise and development of African theology in the evident scientific sense. One was the book titled, La Philosophie bantoue (or Bantu philosophy in its English edition) by the Belgian Franciscan missionary in the Congo, Placide Frans Tempels. It was first published in 1945. The other was called Des prêtres noirs s’interrogent (Black priests are wondering). The latter was a compilation of articles from a consultation of a group of African priests studying in France at the time. It was published in 1956. Both books in their own way, raised consciousness within the Church and beyond about the necessity and urgent need for thinking about and living religion ‘in an African way’.

Two giants

To the question: “Who is the most outstanding symbol of such academic African theology today?” The answer is very easy. Any serious student of theology in Africa will come up with two names in the blink of an eye, especially where the English-speaking region of Africa is concerned. Besides the Kenyan Anglican Canon, Prof. John S. Mbiti (1931–2019), the other name to be mentioned quickly will be that of the Catholic Tanzanian priest, Prof. Charles Nyamiti (9 Dec.1931–19 May 2020). Whereas Mbiti specialised particularly in the field of African religious philosophy, Nyamiti worked in the area of theology proper. Without any doubt, these two have been the leading and enduring voices in the African theological field.

Charles Nyamiti served as a professor of theology since 1984, at the Catholic University of Eastern Africa in Nairobi, Kenya. Nyamiti was one of the founder-lecturers at that establishment which was known then as the Catholic Higher Institute of Eastern Africa (CHIEA). Before, he had lectured at St Paul’s National Major Seminary at Kipalapala, on the outskirts of Tabora town, in the north-western parts of Tanzania. He was assigned there in 1976, shortly after completing graduate studies in theology, social anthropology (or ethnology) and music composition at the Catholic University of Leuven, Belgium, and in Vienna, Austria respectively.

African rites and symbols

Young Nyamiti’s theological studies in Belgium were standard in Catholic perspectives, at the time heavily tinged with European ethnocentric biases in terms of expressing the Christian faith—but he had already manifested a remarkable interest in employing African symbols in expressing the Christian faith. Some people explain this away as merely coincidental, but it seems to many of us much more accurate to interpret this in terms of Divine providence that guided him to orient his studies towards an Afrocentric emphasis, despite the dominant European academic environment at the time. As illustrations, we may refer to both his Master’s and Doctoral theses to show this inner inclination.

For both degrees, Nyamiti concentrated on the processes and meanings of the rites and rituals of initiation to adulthood as practised in some African ethnic communities, in view of the understanding of corresponding sacraments in the Catholic Church. He intended to show that, despite the differences of approach between them, African indigenous and Western Christian approaches to these rituals were matching in terms of the meaning and intention at their core.

To say this may not be shocking today, but in 1966 and 1969, when Nyamiti wrote and defended these ideas, they were intellectually and doctrinally revolutionary, if not heretical, to say the least, even if Vatican II had just concluded.

Theology brewed in an African pot

It was this zeal for creating a “mature, adult and dignified way of conceiving, perceiving and talking” about the Christian faith in the African milieu that formed Nyamiti’s theological preoccupation throughout. Again, it involved the issue of how to express Christian mysteries without in the least, adulterating the sense of Christian belief.

In summing up Nyamiti’s lifetime work, we can indeed distinguish in it between what one of his students, Prof. Mika Vähäkangas, characterises as Christianity served in “foreign vessels” and what another African theologian, Agbonkhianmeghe E. Orobator, describes as a theology “brewed in an African pot”. Nyamiti worked tirelessly for the latter.

African theologians would agree with Vähäkangas that “there are few people who have dared to venture as far as Nyamiti… in constructing a complete African theology, covering the whole field of dogmatics”. In a field now quite replete with individual theologians and theological associations, in one way or another interested in the field, this is no mean compliment. I claim that, in doing what he has done, Nyamiti has lifted African culture to a status that is “equally capable and worthy as any other to be a receptacle of Christian values in the African context”. Here we have Nyamiti’s greatest bequest to African and, indeed, world Christianity.

It was this zeal for creating a “mature, adult and dignified way of conceiving, perceiving and talking” about the Christian faith in the African milieu that formed Nyamiti’s theological preoccupation throughout

Nyamiti’s struggle had been to unearth values deeply embedded in African beliefs and behaviour that, in the words of Joseph T. Djabare, “can unlock the African soul and open it for an authentic union with Christ”. Pope Paul VI had already affirmed this in his Message to Africa in 1967, saying: “Many [African] customs and rites, once considered to be strange, are seen today … [to be] worthy of study and commanding respect”. These include, in the Pope’s mind, the Africans’ “spiritual view of life”, their “idea of God”, “respect for human dignity”, and “the sense of family and community life”. All of these the Pope viewed as “providential” insights. It is to these that, in his theological method, Nyamiti had sought to offer Christian expression.

In line with this intuition and goal, Pope Francis wrote in his recent Apostolic Exhortation, The joy of the Gospel—Evangelii Gaudium (EG): “We cannot demand that peoples of every continent, in expressing their Christian faith, imitate modes of expression which European nations developed at a particular moment of their history, because the faith cannot be constricted to the limits of understanding and expression of any one culture. It is an indisputable fact that no single culture can exhaust the mystery of our redemption in Christ” (EG 118). The core of Nyamiti’s work captured this truth.

Who Christ is for Africa

One outstanding contribution by Nyamiti to theological discourse in Africa that will be remembered above all, is in the area of Christology. Who is Jesus for Africa? Who is Jesus for Africans in their cultural milieu?

Early on in his reflections, Nyamiti proposed the image of ‘ancestor’ to depict the identity, mission and ministry of Jesus as one that the majority of African peoples could easily understand and relate to. His African Ancestral Christology has been lauded throughout the continent as a theological breakthrough. Nyamiti’s seminal publication in this area, titled, Christ as our Ancestor—Christology from an African perspective, is identified as “monumental” by one of his former students, Prof. Patrick N. Wachege.

In many of his writings, Nyamiti constantly returned to this theme as central, as well in terms of appreciating the mission and ministry of the Church in Africa. In view of the values rooted in the African worldview, as was explained previously, Jesus is the Ancestor par excellence in the “Family-called-Church” or in “the-Church-as-Family”. Canadian Africanist scholar, Diane B. Stinton explains why, on account of the indisputable “vital role” ancestors play in African life, the vast majority of African theologians “lend various degrees of assent and priority” to this image of Jesus Christ as our Ancestor.

Nyamiti proposed the image of ‘ancestor’ to depict the identity, mission and ministry of Jesus

On this issue, Nyamiti was not merely theoretical. He put it quite clearly that the “most decisive step” in the development of African (Ancestral) Christology will only come when “it is allowed to enter into the magisterial teaching of the Church”. His call to African theologians and the African Church at large is that the goal of Christological thinking in the African continent should be to enable this perception of Jesus Christ “to influence, as far as possible, the doctrinal formulations of African bishops’ conferences and synods”.

Even during his earthly life, Nyamiti was popularly known and referred to by his students as ‘ancestor’, on account of his wisdom. Now that he has gone to join the ancestors in reality, the African Church must remember what an African saying reminds us all: “To forget one’s ancestors is to be a brook without a source, a tree without roots”. It is a grave responsibility we owe to this illustrious giant of African theology, Charles Nyamiti.

The Scriptures similarly enjoin Christians in this regard: “Remember your leaders. They taught God’s message to you. Remember how they lived and died, and copy their faith. Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever. Do not let all kinds of strange teachings lead you into the wrong way. Depend only on God’s grace for spiritual strength, not on rules about foods. Obeying those rules does not help anyone.” (Heb 13: 7–9).

The African Church remains ever grateful to God for the life and theological thought of Prof. Charles Nyamiti.

FRONTIERS • COMBONI SCHOLASTICATE

MISSION´S FUTURE IN AFRICA AND ASIA?

BY CARLA FIBLA | Journalist, reporting from Pietermaritzburg, Kwazulu-Natal

THEOLOGY STUDENTS hailing from various countries are preparing themselves to become priests with the Comboni’s. In a conversation, they share their vocation story and how they see their future ministry in the Church

It is Saturday, the day for cleaning rooms and common places in the Comboni Scholasticate in Pietermaritzburg. The group of 14 students who have been living together for months, organize themselves for cooking, sharing the prayers in the morning, and their silence in the afternoon.

We asked some to put off their tasks for a while and share a conversation about what it means to study and train to be, one day, a Comboni Missionary. The age of the group is between 27 and 33 years, and they come from the Philippines, Mexico, Kenya, Central African Republic, Zambia and Mozambique.

They are in different years of their formation, so we focus the conversation on their origin, their desire to dedicate their lives to the Mission, their initial difficulties and what they would like to contribute or change in the work carried by missionaries on the ground.

Benjo Raposa, from the Philippines, 33 years old (BR)

Since childhood, I dreamt of becoming a missionary, especially during high school. I read missionary stories and magazines that motivated me. I continued my education till university graduation, but the desire was still present. The path of the Mission was a way to return to the Lord, other blessings received in my life.

I am grateful, even if this life is not easy. There are difficulties, like everywhere, joys and pains, but you learn from everything, and that matures you. When I started the formation, it was a different life for me; being away from family, friends and cultures you´ve grown up with; you are assigned to a different place, with new people and their life stories.

Fernando Uribe Mendoza, from Mexico, 27 years old (FUM)

My uncle is a Comboni Missionary. Since childhood, I was interested in what he was doing and there started my desire to follow in his footsteps. He was explaining to us his mission reality during his holidays. I used to go with him to activities and meetings. I realized that my family was not only the natural one, but the Comboni brothers are also a family. About the difficult moments, I consider myself a relaxed person, so I haven´t found a lot of difficulties; I like new things that motivate me.

There are difficulties, like everywhere, joys and pains, but you learn from everything, and that matures you (BR)

Mark Uanyama, from Kenya, 27 years old (MU)

I was born into a Catholic family and when I was very young, I was led to the practice of the faith. That inspired me to become a priest. I didn´t know about the missionaries until high school, when a missionary came to celebrate Mass and brought us a calendar. One of its titles was: ‘Why not become a missionary?’ Priesthood, as a vocation, is something very respected in my village; people see you as successful in life, and they create distance; there is so much respect that you cannot be free; they see you as a great person, a holy one, and they don´t allow you to do anything at home. It is a gap, created in the name of respect.

Teo Graçia, from Central African Republic, 31 years old (TG)

I was born into a Christian family and most of my fathers´ friends were priests. I had the desire to become a priest, but I didn´t know anything about missionaries. The most difficult thing was to inform my family. It was not easy for them to accept it because we are not so many and my father’s plans for me was to support the family. It was a shock for him and I had to cut the relationship with my family for a while, but afterwards he accepted it and we reconciled.

Kennedy Bwanya, from Zambia, 28 years old (KB)

I desired to serve the people as a missionary since I was very young. I decided to follow religious life, seeing the injustices in society. I have been studying in a language familiar to me and I didn´t have to make too much effort with it, but the culture is different from one country to another.

Madalitso Castomu Supia, from Mozambique, 29 years old (MCS)

The desire to become a Comboni Missionary didn’t occur to me in a specific moment. I come from an evangelical family. When I entered the Catholic Church, I wanted to be someone that could preach and have the opportunity to share my faith. Then, I heard about a vocational group. It was difficult to choose the congregation, but I just wanted to become a missionary.

Now Africa is ready, with the values of the Gospel that bring richness into the Church (MCS)

Most people think that a missionary has a lot of money, cars, and is always helping people, and that is difficult to deal with. The other issue is celibacy. In Africa, it is difficult to understand our way of life; people see it as a lack of blessing. Some family members will ask you: are you really fine? How can a man decide not to marry? When you are at home it is a real challenge as you find all your friends and brothers are married.

Valeriano Silva, from Mozambique, 28 years old (VS)

I came from a Christian family, though most of my family are Muslims, but till now I didn´t have any conflict. We try to understand each other. In my parish, from 1959 till 2017, the only congregation was the Comboni Missionaries. From their experience, I thought that maybe I could be one of them.

It was not easy for my parents to accept it. In my culture, the one who takes the decisions is not the father, but the uncle from the maternal side. I explained it to him and he gave his consent. Another difficulty was that in secondary school I had a beautiful girlfriend and the relationship was very strong. It was not easy for her to understand my decision.

In my parish, the only congregation was the Comboni Missionaries. I thought that maybe I could be one of them (VS)

Worldwide (WW): In the Western world, the number of vocations is decreasing and religion is not as important as it was in the past, perhaps because of the way of life. Do you see it as a loss or as a normal process? Is the future of Mission in Africa and Asia?

MCS: I don´t see that what is happening with vocations in Europe is due to a lack of faith. If I look back at the history of our Congregation, there was always an open door when others were closing. Before, in Africa, most of the missionaries were coming from the North; but gradually, vocations started decreasing there and increasing here. It is good to have diversity, not to think that to evangelize is only for Europeans. Now Africa is ready, with the values of the Gospel that bring richness into the Church. Tomorrow we will hear that it is Asia. We must be able to accept all these realities.

MU: Europe and Africa are not in the same reality. For example, in some places, where there are only two children in a family, if one wants to become a priest, just one is left to take care of the family. Even in Africa, if you tell someone that when you are a religious or a priest, you cannot do your will, have your own car, that if you need to go out you have to inform your superior—you don´t have the young man’s freedom of nowadays.

FUM: I don’t think it is a lack of faith or commitment that Europe is facing. We see many young people concerned about different realities: ecology, peace; they want a change. The loss of vocations is due to different Church scandals and the misunderstanding of the concept of the Church. The Church is not only a few people, it is all of us. We are also responsible and we need to change the face of the institution. Another point is when the Church only cares about the spiritual side of the people; the priests are only involved on Sundays, to give the sacraments, baptize, marry couples. The Church has a role to play in social problems, in everyday life, fighting for ecology, justice, looking for peace. We are not a perfect society, but pilgrims. We can fall, make mistakes, but we need to encourage each other, to proclaim that the Lord’s Word is still alive by our actions.

TG: It is sad this diminution, because Europe taught us the faith and brought us this value. I don´t know the reason, but there are things that change in life, like culture. The Church in Africa is still growing and that´s why vocations are still increasing. Nowadays, Africans go to Europe to evangelize and that’s not a big deal; the important thing is if the Europeans have lost their value in religion, in faith.

BR: I agree with Fernando. As society becomes richer and wealthier, a misinterpretation of freedom and the understanding of God in everyone’s situation can happen. Then one looks at the Church as a set of rules that constricts one’s freedom. It is among the challenges of modernity itself, and of interpreting the Church. We have to go to what the Gospel is telling us—to love one another—and the values that Jesus Christ taught us. It is a call to go back to the roots.

KB: Another factor is globalization. The challenge is how to give answers through faith. Today, Africa has jumped into the shoes that Europe was wearing and has become missionary.

To be a Christian is not a privilege, but a responsibility (FUM)

WW: You all came from countries with different realities. How close is the Church to the people?

MCS: Maybe we have to go back in history, how missionaries arrived in Africa and brought the Gospel. The association with the government was there. The Gospel was not really helping the people but, for example, killing them in the name of God or helping the colonizers. Afterwards, the Church separated herself from the colonial powers and they were there because of the Gospel. Now, the Church in my country has chosen to be with the local people or the poor. She is on their side and is helpful. We used to discuss in my theological class how to fulfil the mission in Africa. It is clear that the Church must improve her closeness to the people.

FUM: In Mexico, the relationship between the Church and the people has increased. Mexico is a very Catholic country. The Church has an important role in society, and now she is trying to strengthen that relationship. It is not just that the Church has to be there, she has to do something. There are many initiatives for justice and against corruption in which the Church is involved. The consequence of raising her voice, is that the Church has been persecuted, but that is her reason for being: to raise her voice for the voiceless. The main thing to be improved is that some priests don´t want to enter into social issues. They think that they just have to concentrate on Mass and religious matters. Following the Gospel, Jesus said: “Go into the world”. He didn’t say: “go to the churches, and preach the good news”. Be concerned about the realities that affect the world. The Church is not just an institution, it is also her people.

MU: In Kenya the Church is close to the people and the vocations are increasing. The priest is busy with the people, and they trust the Church.

TG: Sometimes I ask myself: if there wouldn’t be the Church, where would my country be? The Church acts according to what is preached. God is love because He loves everybody. In my country, the situation would be worse because it is the Church who welcomes the refugees, Muslims and Christians, without distinction, and has a voice to talk with the government, the UN, etc.

KB: In Zambia, the majority are Christians; a small number of them are Protestants. The Church is very close to the people despite the message from the government that cautions the Church not to go into politics; but there are many organizations that ask the Church to talk to the people, for example, the Commission for Peace and Justice, or during the elections.

BR: For me, the Church has been very active in the transformation of societies in many parts of the world. In the Philippines, we celebrate 500 years of Christianity this year and I am grateful because the Mission of the Church has entailed not only spiritual knowledge, but also empowerment of communities, awareness of human rights. The Church is in the frontline for the delivery of basic social needs, in partnership with the government. In my country, she has taken an active role in taking down dictators and corrupt governments. The Church has pushed for social reforms and civil rights’ empowerment.

THE LAST WORD • THE GREAT COMMISSION

Go And Make Disciples Of All Nations (Mt 28: 16–20)

BY FR SILVANO FAUSTI SJ | BIBLIST AND WRITER

“GO THEREFORE and make disciples of all nations”, Jesus says to the Eleven. When Jesus’ mission was over, those who had welcomed Him began their journey: to testify the Father’s love to all who did not yet know Him. What the Nazareen offered to Israel, the ‘Nazareens’ are to offer to all peoples. Those who, in Him, have discovered their own identity as children, they fulfil it now, by reaching out, like Him, to others, until the Father’s name in heaven is sanctified throughout the earth.

The passage is an afterword, offering a synthetic vision of the whole book of Matthew; like the finale of a symphony, it takes up and blends into a single harmony the themes developed in his Gospel.

The text invites the reader to make the experience of the first disciples: to go to Galilee, “to the mountain”, indicated to them by Jesus (v. 16). There, they will see Him and worship Him (v. 17a). Doubt is also part of the encounter (v. 17b), of which faith represents its overcoming.

Whoever goes up the mountain knows “the Son” and is given His power (v. 18); of becoming brethren to all (v. 19a), and immersed in the love of the Father and the Son (v. 19b), which enables one to ‘do’ what Jesus has ordered (v. 20a). He is the God-with-us, to lead the world to its fulfilment (v. 20b).

Jesus, the Crucified and Risen One, has not completed His task, nor is He absent from the world; He is present as Emmanuel, God-with-us, so that in anyone, what has already been accomplished in Him, may be fulfilled.

The Church has the same ‘vocation’ as the Son, realised in the ‘mission’ towards humanity. She carries forward in history what Jesus said and did. Whoever listens to Him, sees Him and adores Him, becomes like Him, a child, sent to others.

We are not orphans, nor abandoned. The Nazareen is with us

The apostles are not to ‘teach’, but to make disciples of the one Master (Mt 23: 8). Their mission is to communicate to others the same power that Jesus communicated to them; that of hearing and doing the Word, and become a people that produces the fruits of the kingdom (Mt 21: 43).

Israel is the light of the nations (Is 42: 6). God is the Father, and He loves all as children. Abraham received the promise that in him all the families of the earth would be blessed (Gen 12: 3b). The mission, at first limited to the firstborn (Mt 10: 5f), is extended to all, after Easter. The light, which with Jesus was kindled in Israel, now illuminates the whole world.

A disciple is the one who is ‘baptised’—immersed—not only in water, but in God, by whose Spirit one breathes and lives. The fishermen of Galilee will become fishers of men (Mt 4: 19). The Son fished them out of the abyss to baptise them into the light; now they will fish for others, doing what He did to them.

Jesus came to immerse us in the Father of life, in the name—person—of the Son and in the name of the Spirit, so that we are inserted into the Trinity and participants in the life of God.

‘Teaching all that I have commanded you’. This is the fundamental theme of Matthew’s Gospel, developed in the five great discourses, which illustrate what Jesus accomplished. The command is to love the Father and others with the same love as the Son loves (Mt 22: 34–40).

‘I am with you every day’. We are not orphans, nor abandoned. The Nazareen is with us; He comes to meet us every hour in which, with fidelity and wisdom, we listen to Him and do what He has done and said.

‘Until the end of the world’. Time is a journey, the goal of which is to be with Him who has always and forever been with us.

MISSION IS FUN

Skilful As The Best Thief

BY Carlo Plotegheri | MCCJ

One day, three police officers came to Comboni College asking for a favour from Fr De Bertolis, our superior. They had a suitcase with a code lock and they had forgotten the code to open it. They had gone even to the prison to ask some skilled burglar to open it, but in vain. After hearing there was a missionary in Comboni College who knew how to handle anything mechanical, they had come to ask if he could open the suitcase for them. Bro. Soardi was immediately called for. He came, asked silence, and with much patience started moving the number spins. One by one, he found the numbers of the combination, and got the suitcase opened. The three officers would not stop thanking such a clever engineer.

YOUTH VOICES • MISSION AND LOVE

Where It All Began

Sharing the same passion for the youth, their journey of faith led them to a greater love for God and to a sincere commitment to minister to young people. They recounted their experience

BY Xavier & Nicole Mateman | Volunteer missionaries, Johannesburg

His story

I recall waking up early to make sure I got to shower in hot water. I recall queuing in line for toast and scrambled eggs complemented with weak juice and strong coffee. I also remember the mischievous nights and sleep-heavy eyes. Youth camps are burnt into my memory. The twenty-year-old youth leaders, speaking from a heart on fire and moving to the rhythm of their words, moving my heart into action and lighting the first inspiration in my life to be a part of something life-giving, full of love and spirit.

I was thirteen years old and ready to become a leader—or so I thought. My mother thought I was too young and that I had to go home after the camp. I was not deterred, I committed to the youth for four years following that camp. It led me to many more camps, friendships, sleepless dorm nights (and toast!). I went to World Youth Day in Australia when I was seventeen and returned enlightened in a way a seventeen-year-old can be: I discovered a love for our faith that was uniquely my own.

I also realised that my calling to serve young people had always been present (Xavier)

I had not realised it then, but I was inspired to work with young people in more ways than one, professionally, through coaching rowing, and in my faith through a youth group. I joined the youth group only because I saw Nicole the week before leading them at a Holy Thursday prayer evening in the garden prepared for the Eucharist. I unashamedly admit that I was there not only for a girl, but the youth leader. Bringing my baby brother to the youth group was my cover-story, but I confessed to her a few months later that it was mostly to be closer to her. A few months is all it took to relight the old flame I had for the mission and passion of youth ministry. I also realised that my calling to serve young people had always been present and showed itself in my day job. I loved uncovering an athlete’s potential and would rediscover the love for sharing my faith with the same youth.

Her story

When I joined our parish youth group, I had just finished matric and entered university. I was a strong-willed person who sought to assist the youth leaders; leadership was one of my personality traits. At some point during my first year of being part of the youth, I was spiritually shaken in a way I would never have thought I could be. I was not a ‘staunch devout Catholic’, as one would put it, at the time of joining. However, my faith was shaken, leading to many questions and even doubt in the faith. This took place during a time when many young people I knew (including our youth leaders) started leaving the faith. It left me feeling vulnerable and lost to a point of depression and anxiety. I knew I needed to do something. Going through ups and downs and seeking answers everywhere (including outside the Church), I found myself delving more into our faith and learning more about it than ever before.

An opportunity arose to attend World Youth Day (WYD) 2011, Madrid, during my struggle of depression and anxiety, so I went with the hopes of finding more answers to questions I had. To be honest, a lot happened and I learnt on the trip, but the true answers I was seeking were left unanswered. A few weeks after we returned, I just decided to let go and let God. My love for God and our faith grew immensely and it made me want to return to the youth with a perspective of trying to help other youth see the beauty of our faith the way I had come to see it in the midst of my depression and anxiety and questions I still had.

In 2013, when Xavier joined the youth with his younger brother, I saw someone who had the gift of wisdom and courage to lead people, especially young people. We eventually asked if he would assist and join our leadership team. Our friendship grew and (of course) a love for one another. What we enjoyed the most was being able to lead a youth group with the same vision and mission. Soon, we encountered a solidarity missionary group, whom we were familiar with, called Couples for Christ, Youth for Christ (CFC, YFC).

I could never have imagined the impact our love for God and one another would have on those around us and those who were to cross our paths (Nicole)

Little did I know I would have a spiritual awakening and my questions would be answered through a youth camp we hosted for the first time through CFC, YFC. I found myself totally surrendering to God. The encounter helped remove the doubts and fears I had and also answered the questions that I had been struggling with. From that point on, we grew from strength to strength as youth leaders, although having many ups and downs. We attended and ran youth conferences both in CFC, YFC, on deanery level and in the Archdiocese as well as participating in various youth-run activities with other youth groups.

Our relationship grew and became clearer; it was based around God and prayer throughout. When Xavier proposed, it was a scary time for me because my love for God had also grown immensely and I had to discern which path I was called to follow during our year of engagement. Eventually after making my decision to marry him in 2017, I could never have imagined the impact our love for God and one another would have on those around us and those who were to cross our paths. We continued making ourselves available for youth, but over time, the message which we relayed to the youth transitioned from being about youth and dating and courtship, to what it truly means to be married.

Our story

While talking about marriage we realised that our individual histories leading up to tying the knot had become a powerful testimony. Every time we spoke to a group, they would leave with a different message of hope. This happened especially during a Tuesday evening discussion called Love Matters, as part of a retreat at Bosco Youth Centre.

we participated in and ran was one which stood out most for us. Being married and gaining many new responsibilities, made it tougher carrying out mission work when compared to before marriage. This conference was even tougher as we were expecting our first-born, so I could not be as active as I wanted to be although Xavier could. Xavier was the programme director, but also carried out one of the talks that allowed him to open himself to the youth, making it a bit more of a personal experience. I even broke down during his talk because of how vulnerable he was.

That evening we had a powerful yet unexpected experience with all the youth at the conference who allowed themselves to be vulnerable; letting their pain be known to God through prayer. All I could remember is my heart aching for our youth—many of whom had experienced great pain—and yet as leaders and missionaries there is only so much we can do, but allow God’s healing grace to take place in their hearts and lives.

Every time we spoke to a group, they would leave with a different message of hope (Nicole & Xavier)

In the time of the pandemic today, it has been quite hard being able to carry out our mission as a family. It is a scary time as we can see so many of our youth struggling with navigating life. Social media makes it so much more complicated. All we can do for now is to remain in prayer for all of them and hope that when we have reached the end of this pandemic or in the ‘new normal’, God’s grace continues to guide us. May God’s amazing grace bring healing and bring them closer to Him.

CHALLENGES • MISSION IS COMMUNICATING LIFE

On Riots, The Pandemic And Doing Theology

“The crisis consists precisely in the fact that the old is dying and the new cannot be born; in this interregnum a great variety of morbid symptoms appear” (Antonio Gramsci)

BY Archbishop Thomas Menamparampil, SDB | Archbishop Emeritus of Guwahati, India

The Italian author Antonio Gramsci (1891–1937) wrote these words from prison in around 1931. Many of us might well imagine he was writing from South Africa ninety years later!

We are living in troubled times in South Africa: the Covid pandemic and the haphazard way in which vaccine delivery is happening; growing poverty and unemployment, accentuated but by no means caused by the pandemic; ongoing political corruption and mismanagement of public resources, with highly uneven—some might say half-hearted—attempts to fight it. We are seeing the ruling African National Congress deeply divided within itself, possibly in the process of fragmentation, over the very crises I have mentioned. The recent traumatic and violent protests and looting in KwaZulu Natal and Gauteng, the worst since the 1994 democratic transition, seem to mirror the morbid symptoms I have described above. The riots—and the wider crisis in which they occurred—demand serious political and ultimately theological analysis.

Why did the riots happen? There are three possible reasons (or combinations of the three):
1. Poverty and discontent;
2. A reaction to the Covid crisis;
3. Political maneuvering precipitated by Jacob Zuma’s imprisonment for contempt of court.

Let us examine these.

First, poverty and discontent. This line of thinking suggests that they happened because of the general state of poverty and unemployment in South Africa, a state worsened, but not simply caused by the effects of the Covid-19 pandemic, lockdown and rising unemployment caused by the lockdown. On a prima facie level this sounds credible. Historically, there are connections between disasters—be they famine, plague or some kind of natural occurrence (e.g. earthquakes, floods etc.). If that were the case, we should have experienced the riots across a wider territory than actually occurred. They should also have happened sooner rather than later, arguably during the toughest period of lockdown back in 2020.

Moreover, the conditions—poverty, unemployment and discontent—have existed in South Africa for much longer than 2020. Granted, the Covid lockdown caused a spike in unemployment—and highlighted the socio-economic disparity more intensely than ever before: wealthier people have been able to ‘sit out’ the lockdown better, have had (relatively) easier access to cash reserves to tide themselves over in some cases, or the resources to move their work from office to home. However, it seems odd that the riots themselves were on the whole highly localized, mainly in two provinces. Indeed, some of the poorest regions of South Africa (where one might assume poverty would precipitate violence) did not on the whole, participate. So, on a balance, I would see this factor as contributing in part to rioting and looting and not as its primary cause.

What of reaction to Covid-19 itself, our second factor? Historical precedents exist. In the past, times of plague have precipitated protests and mass movements, many of them articulating some kind of belief that the end of the world was nigh. Often these movements were linked to beliefs rooted in defective reading of apocalyptic religious literature like the Book of Revelation and the conviction that plague was divine judgment for the world’s sins. But this has not happened significantly during the global Covid pandemic (nor indeed did it during the Great Influenza epidemic one hundred years ago). Granted, there has been a considerable undercurrent, including in South Africa, of what might be called ‘Covid denialism’ and protests about precautionary restrictions, but compared to many countries, this has not happened as much here. Though there have been objections to occasions of police heavy-handedness in enforcing things such as curfews, I have found little or nothing of this rhetoric surrounding the 2021 protests.

There was no general uprising, just localized resistance in areas where Zuma has support

Similarly, I have no sense from what I’ve heard or read that the protests can be traced to a kind of kneejerk reaction by people against being cooped up by the lockdown—or indeed, as I mentioned, a protest against the serious economic side effects of the lockdown.

One is therefore left with the third, and to my mind, most credible cause: reaction to the imprisonment of former president Jacob Zuma for contempt of court. The evidence supporting this claim seems overwhelming. His allies in the ANC warned that if Zuma was jailed there would be protest: it happened. Although the case is by no means closed, there is mounting evidence that the protests (and subsequent looting) were encouraged—if not actually organized—by members of Zuma’s inner circle within the ANC. Beyond that, I have heard people say that when the rioting and looting started, those involved were in effect bussed into the areas affected (local people may then have joined in out of purely material self-interest). There may also be an element of trying to warn the state not to go after other members of Zuma’s cronies implicated in corruption.

More interesting is the question why this was done. It is conceivable that (assuming the organized protest claim is true, which at least seems the case) that it was simply a show of force to get Zuma released. Historically, protest actions—particularly strikes—have often proven effective in the past (at least since 1994). Simply put, and all morality aside, violence works. State counter-violence in these cases has tended always to backfire on the state; shooting protesters and strikers has all too strong a resonance with the apartheid era, even in cases where the first acts of violence were committed by protesters themselves.

A deeper possible reason for the ‘organized resistance’ claim could even be proposed: the first step to overthrowing the government of Cyril Ramaphosa and ‘restoring’ Jacob Zuma (or a close ally) to the presidency. The idea of a general strike or mass uprising has historical precedent (e.g. Russia in 1917), as has the idea of ‘rolling mass action’ in South Africa’s history. If this was in the minds of Zuma’s cronies—whose position within the ANC may be slowly weakening as public sentiment increasingly turns against government corruption and inefficiency, closely associated with the Zuma faction—they miscalculated. There was no general uprising, just localized resistance in areas where Zuma has support. Similarly, despite appearing ‘weak on crime’, Ramaphosa reigned in the temptation to violently suppress the protests—an act that could have played into Zuma’s hands. In short, if this was a power play on the part of Zuma and friends, it backfired dismally, despite the heavy cost in lives and to the economy.

What theological insights, if any, can we derive from these events, particularly how we as Christians can contribute a useful and sound moral voice to current events? I cannot in a short article here express this as fully as it deserves, but I hope to present a few points that we shall all have to work on.

Our theology must find a way of building dialogue with secular ideas and practices of governance

First, we can no longer afford to frame our moral reflections and witness in simplistic, ‘bi-polar’ terms. We no longer live in a society where there is a clear ‘villain’ like apartheid and equally an obvious ‘hero’ or ideal like democracy. Even issues in the deep background to the recent protests—poverty and inequality—offer no simple solutions. History teaches us that simplistic redistribution doesn’t work—and the protagonists who propose such solutions to varying degrees (notably the Zuma faction and the far left) have themselves a less than salubrious track record, suggesting that even if it were feasible, such radical economic transformation would ultimately serve another elite. In like fashion, both romanticized protest and the sanctification of repressive force to ‘preserve’ society don’t work. We need as Christians to develop a more nuanced theology of protest and what might be called (echoing the sociologist Max Weber) a ‘theology of legitimate state force’ to deal with both ambiguities and the real possibilities of excessive and illegitimate protest and/or state violence.

This proposal might unsettle some of you. After all, surely Christians must embrace nonviolence as a moral absolute? Quite frankly, I believe that though it is an ideal to which we must all strive, it is impossible for Christians in public life not to face the ugly reality of force. When we were a marginal sect awaiting the Second Coming, perhaps it was possible; once Christians took their place in the public square we had no choice than to accept the possibility of force. What we are called to do is to struggle to limit force as far as possible—and through our teaching to inculcate in citizens (most of whom are Christians) the need to do likewise.

Second, more importantly, we as Christians must deepen our commitment to and reflection on such tools that make democratic civil society possible, notably the rule of law and the need for it to be upheld fairly and equitably to all. If my analysis is correct, the recent crisis and violence was precipitated by a refusal of certain individuals and groups to accept the idea that all citizens, no matter how famous or highly regarded for their alleged contribution to society, are subject to the same laws, the same procedures, and the same penalties for violating them. Perhaps this can be summarized theologically as the need to develop a ‘theology of due process’. This is in itself part of a wider theology, a theology of civil society and democratic governance.

Here too we need to build upon what already exists and renew it in the light of new circumstances. Many of us in the past embraced theologies of liberation and struggle—in South Africa from the 1980s onwards it was called Contextual Theology. It, together with more mainstream theologies such as Catholic Social Thought, served us well and brought us to the (however flawed) democratic transition of 1994, but the context has changed and our theology must change with it.

Such a new theology must of necessity take account of the fact that the modern state is secular and independent of Church ‘control’, even in situations where many (indeed most) lawmakers and administrators are Christian. Our theology, and the theologies of other faiths, must find a way of building dialogue with secular ideas and practices of governance. It is worth noting here, for religious people filled with unease at the prospect, that many observers would claim that modern secular democracy is the non-religious expression of values first articulated in religious language, in one sense the ‘agnostic child’ of religious, mostly Christian, parents.

Third, our social analysis—upon which we build our theological responses to developments and crises around us—must be more subtle, more ‘scientific’, in the sense that we must use the best available knowledge at our disposal. Crude analyses—particularly simplistic splits between rich/poor, black/white, and even ‘us’/ ‘them’—yield data that is at best flawed, at worst utterly useless. There’s an old maxim: rubbish in, rubbish out—or, as they say in the field of medical research ethics, bad science is bad ethics. Our theological and moral reflection in every area including public life must reflect good (as opposed to myopic) ways of Seeing, so that our theological Judgment is sound and constructive, on which to build more effective Action.

To conclude, I think we must admit that for the most part the religious communities of South Africa dealt with the recent protests and looting rather poorly. We messed up because our analysis of the situation was weak, our theological reflection at best second hand, outdated or simply nonexistent. Will we do better next time? (Yes, there will be a next time—even next times). Perhaps we should revisit the words of Jesus (Mark 2: 22) in this regard:

“And no one pours new wine into old wineskins. Otherwise, the wine will burst the skins, and both the wine and the wineskins will be ruined. No, they pour new wine into new wineskins.”

PROFILE • MISSIONARIES IN SOUTH AFRICA

A Missionary Ahead Of His Time

Abbott Pfanner was a pioneer of the evangelization in South Africa, adapting monastic rules to mission work. He believed in equality and integration, and worked tirelessly with his companions to give young Zulu boys and girls educational opportunities, both academic and vocational

BY MARIAN PALLISTER | CHAIR OF PAX CHRISTI SCOTLAND

ST DANIEL Comboni’s famous motto was ‘Save Africa with Africa’. In the middle of the 19th century, this was a uniquely progressive proposal. In practice, it meant taking the Gospel to Africans who had not heard it before—and preparing them to then evangelize their own people. Missionary work was not, Comboni believed, uniquely for white Europeans.

Even at the end of that century, various factions of the religious establishment still did not accept such revolutionary ideas. As for adapting the way that missionaries operated in order to take the Gospel to the people in the best possible way, some aspects of that certainly did not go down well—as Abbot Franz Pfanner learned to his cost.

Pfanner was far-sighted enough to understand the importance of education, of health, of sustainable employment, and even of promoting the role of the laity

Criticism of Abbot Pfanner’s way of working came from both clergy and laity—and perhaps prefaced the more cruelly divided society that emerged in the 20th century in South Africa. Bishop Charles-Constant Jolivet, then Bishop of Belline, was reported as saying that it was a mistake to give “too much” to the black people because that would make of them “bread Christians”. A letter published in a Natal newspaper accused the Trappists (of whom Abbot Pfanner was leader in South Africa) of “seducing the natives” through their kindness in order to convert them and bring them to submission.

What was it that alarmed people about the Trappists’ approach to their missionary work? That the world’s largest monastery, founded by Abbot Pfanner, was too ostentatious? That the Trappist Rule was not being observed properly in the efforts to reach out to mission stations? or simply that people of all faiths and none, were accommodated by Pfanner’s idealism?

The establishment questioned the Austrian-born Abbot and found him wanting—but his legacy is the beautiful Mariannhill Monastery, which he established on the periphery of Durban in 1882 and which continues to flourish. Both Comboni and Pfanner seem to have won the day, if the photographic evidence is anything to go by. A plenary meeting pictured at Mariannhill in 1903 shows a sea of white faces. Move on some 120 years and the men photographed for the Mariannhill website are predominantly black.

Just as Daniel Comboni aimed to save Africa with Africa, Pfanner’s ideal was to promote the integration of the indigenous Zulu people in the white society of the then Transkei region. He was far-sighted enough to understand the importance of education—for girls as well as boys—of health, of sustainable employment, and even of promoting the role of the laity.

For all of this, the gaunt man with the long beard was censured.

Where had his ideas developed? What turned a red-haired boy who teased his contemporaries in the village of Langen, near Bregenz in Austria, where he was born on 21 September 1825, into a missionary with what was seen by some as too much zeal?

Trappist with a missionary call

Abbot Pfanner’s birth name was Wendolin and his twin brother was Johann. Johann from the outset seemed the one who would follow in the farming footsteps of their parents, while Wendolin was clearly a scholar, winning prizes and going on to university. His post-graduate course in philosophy at Padua University in northern Italy was, however, put on hold when he fell ill and was confined to a sanatorium. Some say he suffered from pneumonia and meningitis, others that tuberculosis was the root cause of his illness—and certainly, having been raised on a farm where he would have consumed unpasteurised milk, TB is most likely to have been an underlying condition.

God, moving as always in mysterious ways, chose this moment in Pfanner’s life—lying in a sanatorium with weakened lungs—to inspire him to be a missionary. It seemed impractical, but he began the process by studying for the priesthood and in 1850, at the age of 25, he was ordained. Despite succeeding in his work in a problematic parish, his bishop turned down his request to fulfil his calling to missionary work and instead posted him to a convent in Croatia—neighbouring on northern Italy—to oversee the nuns there. Another success story, but again, his health let him down and he had to take time off to recover.

It was then that he sought to join the Trappist Order, officially the Order of Cistercians of the Strict Observance, which demands hard manual labour, silence, a meagre diet, isolation from the world, and renunciation of most studies. This request from a priest who was passionate about evangelization was a strange one, but apparently, Pfanner believed he was destined for an early death and that joining the Trappists would prepare him for this. The bishop was doubtful, but eventually agreed to send Pfanner to the Trappist Mariawald monastery in western Germany. It was there that Wendolin became Franz, taking the name—as Pope Francis would do in the 21st century—of St Francis of Assisi.

Fr Franz, as he now was, recovered his health under the regime of the Trappists—the hard labour and vegetarian diet suited him. Ironically, as it turned out, his over-enthusiasm for the strict rules upset his confreres and he was ordered to leave Mariawald and set up a monastery elsewhere. He travelled to the Holy Land and to Rome, but in time it was at Banja-Luka in Bosnia that he set up the monastery of Mariastern: Star of Mary.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, his verve soon saw him create a mill, a fruit-drying plant, bridges and roads, a school and an orphanage. The monks were not allowed contact with females, but Pfanner solved the problem by introducing Sisters to teach at the school and orphanage. With hindsight, this seems like a blueprint for the work he would do in South Africa. The frequent tolling of bells (Pfanner had smuggled bells into Bosnia, which did not allow bell ringing, to call brothers to prayers) upset the neighbours as the monastery lands expanded to meet the Trappists’ need for self-sufficiency. This led to the first official rebuke—the bishop who received the complaints told him to curb his “unruly spirit” and limit further development. Moreover, in a strategy we have seen develop in industry in the intervening years, Pfanner was moved sideways by way of a promotion. Appointed Abbot, he was no longer in a position to be in the thick of the hard labour and the promotion of self-sufficiency.

A new mission in South Africa

Or so his superiors thought. He still wanted to be involved in missionary work, and when at a meeting of the Trappist Order, Bishop James David Ricards of the Eastern Vicariate in South Africa asked for monks to open a mission station at Dunbrody in the Eastern Cape, it was Pfanner who responded: “If no one will go, I will go.”

The offer was accepted, and Abbot Pfanner and a group of monks were soon sailing to South Africa. It was not, of course, an easy journey, and the location of the mission station was unwelcoming, but the “hard manual labour” ethic kicked in and the men cleared the land to achieve their aim of self-sufficiency. They had brought with them a printing press, and Pfanner used this to create fund-raising leaflets to send back to Europe. Despite the debilitating seasickness he knew he would experience, he went on fund raising missions to Europe, making the kind of compelling addresses that brought in the cash needed for the work in South Africa. The vow of silence did not seem to get in his way—and it is said that he never let such “man-made” rules get in the way of God’s work.

Those funds that were raised were not, however, used for the Eastern Cape project, where drought persisted. Pfanner asked, then, Bishop Jolivet in Natal if he could take his mission to that diocese. Could turning down the area the bishop suggested have set Jolivet against Pfanner’s future projects? Instead, he successfully bid for a farm that was up for sale near Pinetown and moved the whole operation there by rail and ox-wagon, arriving in December 1882.

And there, on 26 December, this Trappist missionary with his visionary ideals established Mariannhill Monastery on the edge of Durban. He intended to promote the integration of the native Zulu people into white society by opening schools, health clinics, craft workshops, printing presses and farms providing work for hundreds of monks, lay missionaries, nuns and natives. It was a whole new approach to missionary work in South Africa. An approach that opened up aspirational horizons for a rural community; that gave young black boys and girls, men and women, educational opportunities, both academic and vocational.

The monks began building work and farming that called on their own manual labour—that core Trappist tenet. They set up the first school—again bringing in nuns to teach the girls—and they taught a range of trades as diverse as carpentry, bookbinding, printing and tailoring.

Mariannhill Abbey

Almost miraculously, by 1885 the magnificent building that is the Mariannhill Monastery was not only up and running, but given abbey status, with Pfanner appointed as its abbot. For him, this was just the start. Throughout the 1880s, he spread the Word by building a network of mission churches throughout southern Natal. Each was built on a farm that could sustain clergy and laity alike.

If that sounds exciting and ahead of late 19th century thinking, consider this from Pfanner: “All boys in our institute receive free bed, board, and instruction, regardless of whether they are pagan, Muslim, Protestant, or Catholic, white, black, or coloured, English, Dutch, German, Italian, Indian or local African.”

Pfanner wrote in 1890 in his Principles for Mission that the aim of Marriannhill was “to pursue and bring about an equal status for black and white people”

This 19th century Francis was laying down the ideas that our 21st century Francis has expressed in Fratelli Tutti—that we are all brothers and sisters; that no one should be marginalised; that all are equal.

Pfanner wrote in 1890 in his Principles for Mission that the aim of Marriannhill was “to pursue and bring about an equal status for black and white people”. He would have been deeply disillusioned by how that worked out in the 20th century—and surely greatly saddened that in the third decade of the 21st century there is still a desperate need for the ‘Black Lives Matter’ campaign.

Under scrutiny

Of course, he may have had an inkling how things would progress. Although by 1887 he had sent the first Mariannhill candidates to Rome to study for the priesthood (and the first Zulu Catholic priest would be from Mariannhill); although supporters in Europe appreciated his work sufficiently to send generous donations for his work; although his outreach scheme was so obviously a success, Pfanner was under scrutiny because he was failing to follow the Trappist Rule. To enable continued success, he asked for the rules to be changed—to officially allow Zulu-speaking novices to teach at outlying missions, Sisters to teach girls in the schools, extra food given to sustain the hard-working brothers. He even distorted the description of Mariannhill, trying to get round the difficulties—it was not a mission, he suggested, but a base for missionary activity. But underlying this are those comments from Bishop Jolivet, that snide letter in the newspaper. Was this all about attempted integration rather than Trappist rules?

An inspection of his work resulted in Pfanner’s suspension. He spent that year in Lourdes in the Eastern Cape and offered his resignation, which was turned down. Meanwhile, all the dispensations he had put in motion were reversed and outreach stopped. In 1893 at the age of 70 he moved to a farm near Lourdes for a new life.

Perhaps not entirely new. He spent his time there drafting a statute for a new missionary society, to be responsible directly to Rome, adapting Trappist rules to be compatible with mission work. Mariannhill liked his ideas, but not until February 1909 would Pope Pius X approve the separation of the Mariannhill Missions from the Trappist Order. That approval allowed Pfanner to die in peace just three months later—and also allowed Mariannhill Missions to spread, taking the idea that we are ‘fratelli tutti’ around the world.

INSIGHTS • EVANGELIZATION

Bringing The Good News Into Public Life

BY MIKE POTHIER | PROGRAMME MANAGER, SACBC PARLIAMENTARY LIAISON OFFICE

WHEN ONE thinks of evangelization, the spreading of the Good News, Parliament is perhaps not the first thought that comes to mind. Most people probably associate it more with bad news—endless political bickering, dishonest politicians insulting each other, and corruption of all kinds.

Maybe it is precisely because of the place’s poor reputation that we should think of it as in need of evangelization. Almost 25 years ago, when the Catholic Parliamentary Liaison Office (CPLO) was established by our bishops, they certainly saw Parliament as a site falling within the Church’s broader mission—but in a special way.

CPLO has never had a specifically spiritual or religious mandate as far as Parliament is concerned. In some countries, the Church appoints a chaplain to look after the spiritual and pastoral needs of Catholic members of parliament and other office-bearers. Often these people spend a lot of time away from home, their support structures and their regular parishes, and the advice and accompaniment that a chaplain offers can be very comforting.

Christian social values

So far, our bishops have not chosen to appoint a chaplain (although, with St Mary’s Cathedral situated less than 100 m from the entrance of Parliament, Catholic MPs are never far from pastoral care if they need it). Instead, it has been CPLO’s task to bring the Good News to Parliament, and we do that primarily via the medium of Catholic Social Teaching (CST).

CST derives from the Good News; it is the application of Gospel values to the many-sided social aspects of human life. So, in our engagements with Parliament—usually making submissions regarding new laws and policies—we base what we say on the CST principles.

The starting point is human dignity. We ask ourselves whether the particular law or policy in question promotes or undermines human dignity. We often find that some parts of it do, but others don’t; it’s very seldom that a new law is all good or all bad, when measured against the Christian understanding of human dignity.

It’s important to note that the very exercise of engaging with the lawmakers, understanding what they are trying to achieve and explaining why we agree or don’t agree with them, is an expression of human dignity. Our right to have a say in the things that affect us, and to hold our public representatives to account, is an aspect of what it means to be dignified.

In our engagements with Parliament, we base what we say on the Catholic Social Teaching principles

We also ask whether the law or policy favours the common good, of individuals and of the whole. This is achieved when things are arranged so that individuals find their fulfilment through the fulfilment of all, and when the ‘all’ find their fulfilment through the progress of the individuals. It is a variant of our local African principle of ubuntu.

Many other CST principles act as lenses through which we can examine legislation and policy. The preferential option for the poor leads us to demand that Parliament should always carefully weigh the effects of its laws on the most vulnerable members of society. Solidarity, likewise, brings to the fore the interests of those who may be disadvantaged or threatened in some way.

Increasingly important in today’s world is the CST principle of the integrity of creation. Many laws and policies have negative effects on the environment, and there is often a tension, for example, between the need for development and economic growth, on one hand, and the need to preserve and nurture natural environments and resources on the other.

Further CST principles could be mentioned, but I think the point is clear: Catholic Social Teaching invites us to share our understanding of how society should work with itself. It is part of the Church’s ‘mission to society’. That mission plays itself out in hundreds of ways, from the provision of education and health services, development work, and the protection of human rights to the more traditional areas of pastoral and spiritual care.

All of them, however, flow from the Good News, and all of them form part of the Church’s foundational task of evangelization—even, or perhaps especially, in the sometimes barren-looking field of politics and parliaments.