Welcome!


Welcome to my blog, “Living Water: Saturated by the Spirit in South Africa!” A mentor told me that the most important thing one can do when immersed in a culture other than one’s own is to soak it in like a sponge. Cultures are expressions of God who dwells in the human heart. Cultures are fountains of living water that reflect the very nature of God. Jesus said, "I will give you living water" (John 4:10). This blog seeks to share my stories of being immersed in South Africa's living water and being saturated by the Spirit therein.

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Washed Out in Shades of Grey & Black

I stepped through the doorway of the house into a room lit only by the sunlight shining through the door. Dust mites and ashes floated in the rays of morning sun. As my eyes adjusted to the light, my nasal cavity was filled with the putrid reek of smoke. This was not the smell of smoke from a wood-burning fire, that pleasant rustic scent. This was the smell of smoke from a fire that consumed possessions, memories, and human life, leaving behind charred remnants of what once was.

In the early hours of Wednesday, March 23, a candle fell and set fire to a house in the coloured neighborhood of Mascassar, a suburb of Cape Town. The home had no electricity so the family used candles at night in order to see. The nine residents fell asleep with a candle burning and awoke to find their home on fire. The house was a small residence with a kitchen, tiny living-room, one bathroom, and two small bedrooms. The family of nine, three adult women who were sisters and their six children (ranging between the ages of 6 months to 14 years old) were trapped in their house and in the flames. All nine of them died.


Flowers left in memory of lost loved ones.

The vicious Cape Townian winds fed the flames and spread the fire along to two other houses. One of these houses was the one that I walked through. The homeowner, his wife, and small daughter survived the fire. He took me, my HOPE Africa collogues, and Archbishop Thabo through the remains of his charred house. Everything was black. The linoleum floor tiles were melted from the heat of the flames. The pages of a scorched book fluttered in the breeze. A burnt Christmas ornament sat beside the book. Evidence of life lived. I made my way into one of the small rooms. The remnants of blackened bunk beds rested against the wall. A large crayon and the strap of a plastic watch sat in a pile of ashes. The children’s room. Colorful and vivid life washed out in shades of grey and black.

Archbishop Thabo and his entourage prayed with the man, his family, and the Macassar community. We then made our way to St. Joseph the Worker Anglican Church for some more prayers and a light reception with the families of the fire victims. When asked how the Anglican Church could provide support for the survivors, the community responded by asking the Church to use its voice.

When the fire broke out on Wednesday morning, the fire department was called in. Three separate trucks were sent. None of them had water to fight the fire. Here in Cape Town, they don’t have fire hydrants. Fire trucks carry their own water. Each of the water tanks on the trucks sent to the Macassar fire was empty. Archbishop Thabo promised the community that the Anglican Church would indeed use its voice to advocate for adequate public services. He also encouraged the community to turn to one another in their grief and to turn to God. He told them to question and to wrestle with God. He told them not to be afraid to ask God the difficult questions, like why this happened and where was God in the midst of it.

The most tragic part of this story is that it is not the only story like this. This kind of thing happens frequently throughout the Western Cape. Lack of electricity and water often lead to fatal tragedies. This is a part of life for many people.

Monday, March 21, 2011

Human Rights Day

March 21, Human Rights Day, is a national holiday in South Africa. The Constitution of South Africa states, “Everyone has inherent dignity and the right to have their dignity respected and protected.” This right was repressed during apartheid South Africa (1948-1993) and was fought for and bought dearly by oppressed South Africans and their allies. Human Rights Day is a time to remember their struggle and ensure that by honoring each person’s God-given rights, South Africans will never experience such injustice again.


Mural in downtown Cape Town

March 21 was chosen to commemorate Human Rights Day because it marks an important day in this country’s history in the fight for human rights. On March 21, 1960, protesters refusing to be treated like second and third-class citizens were gunned down in cold blood by police.

Background to the Event:
The Native Laws Amendment Act of 1952 extended Government control over the movement of Africans to urban areas and abolished the use of the Pass Book (a document which Africans were required to carry on them to ‘prove’ that they were allowed to enter a ‘white area’) in favor of a reference book which had to be carried at all times by all Africans. Failure to produce the reference book on demand by the police was a punishable offence.

The Protest and Massacre:
The Pan Africanist Congress proposed an anti-Pass campaign to start on March 21, 1960. All African men were to take part in the campaign without their passes and present themselves for arrest. Campaigners gathered at police stations in townships near Johannesburg where they were dispersed by police. At the Sharpeville police station a scuffle broke out. Part of a wire fence was trampled, allowing the crowd to move forward. The police opened fire, apparently without having been given a prior order to do so. 69 people were killed and 180 wounded.

“That is the simple story that historians will relate,” Joe Tlholoe, one of South Africa’s most prolific journalists, wrote. “The real story was a more complex mixture of pain and grief, suffering, anger and courage, that is best left to izimbongi, the African epic poets, to tell.”

This Human Rights Day, I am taking time to consider the ways in which the world perpetuates attacks against the inherent dignity of each person and the ways in which I contribute to these injustices. I am also celebrating the human rights victories we as a world community have achieved and honoring the individuals who contributed to these triumphs. I pray that the fear of the other (that is at the heart of human rights abuses) will be transformed into joy of diversity and that out of this joy we will come to celebrate the inherent dignity of ALL people.

A prayer to inspire this task:
O God, who created all peoples in your image, we thank you for the wonderful diversity of this world. Enrich our lives by ever-widening circles of fellowship, and show us your presence in those who differ most from us, until our knowledge of your love is made perfect in our love for all your children; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. BCP p.840

Thursday, March 17, 2011

Six-Month Threshold

I recently returned to Cape Town after a two-week stint in the states! On February 27 I boarded a South African Airways Boeing airplane headed to New York City for my ordination to the deaconate in the Diocese of New York. After a wonderful send-off at the Cape Town International Airport from my friends, I wound through the security line with my spirits soaring, excitedly anticipating seeing family, friends, and homeland after 6 months away.

After jetting through the atmosphere for 14 hours, America’s coast appeared on the map of my personal TV in the seat ahead of me. My heart literally jumped at the sight! While my fellow passengers watched Black Swan, The King’s Speech, and Harry Potter & the Deathly Hallows on their screens, my eyes were glued to the map of the east coast looming ever closer. Soon, I was able to make out cities… Boston, New York, Washington. And that’s when I knew I was home.

Some of you may be thinking, but the Northeast isn’t really my home. That’s true, I grew up in Texas, but America is home and I never felt more at home then when I stepped out of JFK International Airport to the chilly embrace of 40° temperatures, rain, and piles of snow. I was home.

My two weeks home in the US flew by in a whirlwind of happiness. My ordination was wonderful. Flanked by family, friends, and the Holy Spirit I was ordained to the sacred order of deacons and charged to a ministry of service.


Friends from Episcopal Divinity School


Deacon Amanda


My Parents

Now that I’ve returned to South Africa I look forward to engaging in that ministry in a parish in the Diocese of Cape Town. The bishop here has placed me at St. Faith’s Anglican Church in Plumstead, where I will serve as deacon for the next five months until the end of my time in South Africa.

February 26 marked my sixth month in Cape Town. The halfway mark was an excellent time to go home. I now feel energized, rejuvenated and ready to tackle whatever new things may come my way over the rest of my time in the Mother City. A placement in a parish, a move to a new home, and a move to a new office building are all current realities for me. I am excited about these shifts and looking forward to living into the change that surrounds me at this threshold of my YASC year.