This past Sunday, July 18, was the 92nd birthday of South African hero, Nelson Mandela. I hereby acknowledge his contribution to the cause of peace. Mandela, the first president of the new nonapartheid South Africa, was a noble man, a worthy leader, who turned from violence to peace in the struggle for his country.
I am presently reading a (2010) book by Anglican Archbishop Desmond M. Tutu, of South Africa who was also involved in the struggle against aparthied. The book is written in collaboration with his daughter and Episcopal priest, Mpho A. Tutu. The title is Made for Goodness: And Why This Makes All the Difference.
By Mandela's birthday, I had just read a portion in the Tutu's book that concerned another person in the antiapartheid struggle, a white man and another man of the cloth, named Beyers Naude'. I had heard of Naude' before and had noted his death in 2004 by a notice in the paper. However, I had not known the details of his story.
I give his story as told on pages 45-47 in the Tutu's book. It deserves to be retold and should be noted.
By the measures of worldly privilege, prestige, and human success, [Desmond Tutu wrote,] my friend the late Beyers Naude' had the "perfect" life. Beyers was an Afrikaner cleric. He was born into the royaly of Afrikanerdom. His father was a fouding member of the secretive and politically powerful Afrikaner Broederbond. The Broederbod was a group that was committed to preserving apartheid to secure the interests of Afrikaners, Beyers became the youngest member of the Broaederbod at the age of twenty-five. He was the dominee or leader, of a prestigious Johannesburg Dutch Reformed congregation. He was also the moderator of the Southern Transvaal synod of the Dutch Reformed Church (DRC).
But his seemngly perfect life was built on an untenable foundation. The South African DRC had constructed the theological pillars on which apartheid was established. Beyer's prayer, study, and reflection had led him to conclude that apartheid was unbiblical and unchristian and that its effects were indefensible. Forced to choose between the multiracial Christian Institute that he had created and the Dutch Reformed Church that he had led and loved, Byers chose obedience to conscience. One Sunday in September 1963 he announced his decision to his congregation. "We must show greater loyalty to God than to man," her said. He hung his gown on the pulpit and walked out of the church He resigned his post as moderator of his church district, left his congregation, and as a result, lost his status as a minister in the DRC. His fellow Afrikaners ostracized him and his family.
It seemed that his life was in ruins. But Beyers had traded in what looked like a flowlessly perfect life for a perfectly whole life--a life that he could fully inhabit. Although his Afrikaner community abandoned him, South Africa's black community embraced him He joined a black Dutch Reformed congregation in Alexandra Township. Friends of all races fill is home. Pastors from every denomination sought his counsel. Antiapartheid activists met with him for mutual support.
Over the years, Beyers faced government harassment. His Christian Institute was outlawed. For seven years he was placed under a banning order. Banning was a form of punishment that was akin to house arrest. The banning order made it illegal to quote Beyers in any publication. Banning also meant that he could not be in a room with more than one person, so he could not take part in family gatherings or attend a service of worship. His period in the wilderness lasted more than thirty years. Beyers's views were vindicated when Nelson Mandela became South Africa's first democratically elected president. Beyers spend the last five years of his life as a worshiper at Aavoelkop, the Johannesburg congeation that had first heard his declaration of conscience. He had dared to stand as a solitary witness against the injustice perpetrated by his people. He had traded a false perfection for godly wholeness.
No comments:
Post a Comment