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Cape Town to Hermanus

2 September 2015


Continued from More cousins and friends in Cape Town

On Sunday morning we went to the Divine Liturgy at St George’s Cathedral in Woodstock.

St George's Cathedral, Woodstock, Cape Town

St George’s Cathedral, Woodstock, Cape Town

Fr Nicholas invited me to serve with Deacon Michael, and we were joined by Archbishop Sergios, Metropolitan of the Cape of Good hope, who welcomed us to his diocese, and took me in tow afterwards to have coffee in the hall, and discussed the possibility of joint training meetings with our diocese similar to the training meeting we held three weeks ago.

His Eminence Metropolitan Sergios, Archbishop of the Cape of Good Hope. 30 August 2015

His Eminence Metropolitan Sergios, Archbishop of the Cape of Good Hope. 30 August 2015

We then left Cape Town for Hermanus, calling at Somerset West on the way to have brunch with nephew Alan Machin — at about 3:00 pm. Al has been working in Cape Town for some time, doing engineering drawings.

Alan Machin & Val Hayes, Somerset West. 30 August 2015

Alan Machin & Val Hayes, Somerset West. 30 August 2015

At Hermanus we are staying at the Volmoed community in Hemel en Aarde (heaven and earth) valley, and this was the view from our front door when it had finally stopped raining.

Volmoed Community, Hermanus

Volmoed Community, Hermanus

We asre staying in Faith Cottage, and I’m spending some time talking to John de Gruchy about the book we are writing on the charismatic renewal movement in South Afirca.

Faith Cottage at Volmoed, Hermanus

Faith Cottage at Volmoed, Hermanus

You can read more about the Volmoed Community here. We went in to Hermanus town, which has some nice bookshops, where you can often find books that are not available in the big chain bookshops like Exclus1ve Books.

Hemingway's Bookshop, Hermanus

Hemingway’s Bookshop, Hermanus

It’s a nice place just to browse around, and in some ways looks like a place out of a fairy tale, with hidden nooks and crannies, probably not watched by security cameras, and if you wander too far perhaps you could find yourself in another world.

Hemingway's book shop, Hermanus

Hemingway’s book shop, Hermanus

We had coffee in the Old Harbour Cafe, and beyond it was an art gallery, glimpsed here through the door at the end of the veranda

We had coffee in the Old Harbour Cafe, and beyond it was an art gallery, glimpsed here through the door at the end of the veranda

At this time of the year, it seems, everyone comes to Hermanus to see the whales, so we had a look over the bay, and saw a couple, but too far away to be worth trying to take photos of. There’s a pleasand path around the clifftops, with notes on flora and fauna, and some interesting sculptures.

Seafront sculpture, Hermanus

Seafront sculpture, Hermanus

There are notes on some of the flora and fauna in the area, and we could hear the clicking frogs.

The coast at Hermanus

The coast at Hermanus

Then it was back to Volmoed for another session with John de Gruchy to discuss our book on the charismatic renewal, wo which we have given the provisional title of The charismatic renewal and the churtch struggle.

John de Gruchy

John de Gruchy

Kamieskroon to Robertson

28 August 2015

Continued from Namaqualand Spring: Lily Fountain and flowers

Saturday 22 August 2015

We were sad to leave Kamieskroon after spending three nights there, and we left before dawn and drove down the N7 towards the Western Cape. The sun rose just after we passed Garies, where we stopped for petrol, but the national road bypasses most of the towns along the way.

Sunrise on the N7, somewhere near Garies

Sunrise on the N7, somewhere near Garies

We bypassed Bitterfontein, with its railway line — it was still the railhead for points further north. As we approached Vanrhynsdorp there was a large rectangular mountain to the left, looking, as Val put it, like a slab of butter. I thought it looked like an alien artifact, and imagined one day the rocky comouflage crumbling away to reveal an enormous spaceship or something.

A mountain, or an alien artifact disguised as one?

A mountain, or an alien artifact disguised as one?

We bypassed Vanrhynsdorp as well, and there was a sign pointing to the mountain labelled “Gifberg”. After Vanrhynsdorp the countryside was more familiar to me, and the previous times I had travelled this road, in 1971 and 1972, it had still been daylight.

We crossed the Olifants River at 10:20 am, 242 km from Kamieskroon, and stopped to take photos, as Val’s great great great grandfather Frank Stewardson had taken 5 days to cross the river with his herd of cattle back in 1862, though it may not have been at this particular point.

Olifants River

Olifants River

The road followed the course of the river southwards for some distance, though it was shorter than I remembered, and we only got one or two glimpses of the irrigation canal, which in my  recollection had seen almost endless the first time I saw it, though perhaps one gets a better view of it travelling the other way. I believe wit was built during the Great Depression as a project to create employment, back in those days only for white people.

As we approached Clanwilliam there were road works, with stop/go sections, though we were lucky, and arrived at the tail of the queue, and did not actually have to stop once. There were still spring flowers along the sides of the road, giving the countryside a festive air, mainly yellow ones, with occasional patches of the orange Namaqualand daisies as well. We by-passed Clanwilliam, and the traffic on the N7 was heavier, and the road works continued for some way beyond, though we still passed through the stop/go sections without having to stop.

Roadside flowers along the N7 between Clanwilliam and Citrusdal, with the Cederberg in the background

Roadside flowers along the N7 between Clanwilliam and Citrusdal, with the Cederberg in the background

We turned off the N7 at Citrusdal and drove straight through, and up and over the Middelberg Pass, 1071 metres high, which was similar to the pass leading from Kamieskroon to Leliefontein. If there were any cedars growing on the Cederberg range, we didn’t notice them. Beyond that we drove through a wide flat cultivated valley between two ranges of hills, not as scenic as I had imagiend it would be. We passed several signs warnong of pothols, but the potholes seemed to have been repaired. I’ve sometimes wondered why they go to the trouble and expense of erecting such signs, rather than just repairing the potholes.

The Middelberg Pass over the Cederberg

The Middelberg Pass over the Cederberg

We drove down the Gydo pass, which we reached at 12:55 , 424 km from Kamieskroon, to Prince Alfred Hamlet and Ceres, stopping a a viewpoint halfway down to take photos, and recalled the impression of that I had had when we stayed at Ceres 40 years ago that it was in a bowl of mountains, entirely surrounded by a circular range of mountains. There were fields of plum trees with pink blossoms in places. We looked for somewhere to have lunch in Ceres, but most of the eating places seemed to be in shopping malls which were busy with Saturday afternoon shoppers, so we opted for take-away “hero” rolls from Steers, and drove to a sitplekkie on Michell’s Pass, and ate our lunch there. In the kloof below we could see the railway line winding down the side of the mountain, and from above it looked like a narrow-gauge one, because of the size of the surroundings, but when, after lunch, we crossed it, it turned out to be a standard (3′ 6″/1067 mm) gauge one.

Michells Pass

Michells Pass

We then drove alongside the Langeberg through a much wider valley than the previous one, with fields and more spring flowers at the side of the road. and sometimes whole field of them. We passed teams of people repainting the lines of the road, which looked as though it had recently been resurfaced, and they were just packing up for the day. There were signs saying “No lines” but they seemed to have finished the job.

More spring flowers between Ceres and Worcester

More spring flowers between Ceres and Worcester

At Worcester we got lost, as there were signs pointing to the R43 to Villiersdorp, but none pointing to the R60 to Robertson, and we drove around looking for at least one sign, and eventually went out on the Villiersdorp Road, and saw one turning off that, which eventually led us to the R60. We were rather surprised to see that the cultivation ended a short way out of town, and the road passed through uncultivated country, and there didn’t even seem to be many animals grazing. The railway line ran alongside the road, and it still seemed to be narrow gauge, even though it could not have been. Perhaps it is travelling on the Gautrain, with its broader gauge, that makes the others seem narrow.

As we got closer to Robertson we saw some passenger coaches in a siding, and wondered if that indicated that there was still a passenger service along here, though perhaps they had retired, as one had a big Steers advertising sign attached to it. We later discovered that they were retired, and at least one of the coaches was used as a church.

We drove straight through Robertson to Fr Zacharias van Wyk’s place, Bedehuis Bethanië, where we arrived just after 4:00, and   Val and I went to see Macrina Walker at the Life-Giving Spring next door, an old dairy that she had converted into living and working quarters. She did her bookbinding there, but said she is now more into soap making, and has been living there for three years. We went over to Vespers at 5:00, sung in Afrikaans.

Bedehuis Be

Bedehuis Bethanië

Fr Zacharias cooked supper, a special fish dish, and we sat on the veranda talking in the dusk, discussing the church, and the mission-mindedness, or lack of it. Fr Zacharias said they had installed green energy, and most of their electricity came from solar power. It again felt like something out of Tolkien, the last homely house, and I would noit have been surprised if elves and dwarves had joined us at the meal.

After Vespers at

After Vespers at Bedehuis Bethanië

Going West through Bushmanland

24 August 2015

19 August 2015

We left Augrabies at 7:20, and drove down the road towards Pofadder. In some places along the way there were fields of tiny mauve flowers. At 9:15 we reached
Pofadder, 138 km from Aughrabies, and stopped to take photos of it, as it was the provebial back of beyond. Val said that when they were young Pofadder’s  CEK car registration was the only one they had not seen from the old Cape Province, and then one day in a camp at the Kruger Park there was one right in front of them. We had thought of coming here on our 1991 trip to Namibia, but it was too far out of the way. It actually seemed to be quite a pleasant little town, and more hilly than I expected.

Pofadder in  the Northern Cape Province

Pofadder in the Northern Cape Province

We turned off to Pella, 170 km from Augrabies, which we reached at 9:36. It was another historic mission station, and we drove down into the valley where it was. The road was tarred, which I hadn’t expected, and the countryside was also hillier than I expected. the town itself was bright and clean, with well-kept houses. At one point we stopped to see where the church was, and were approached by a bloke who wanted to sell us a lump of rose quartz and said he was our information source, and pointed the way to the church, which we could have found without his help. The church was smaller than I expected — in reading about it I imagined some huge cathedral, and the descriptions said it was built by two priests, working on their own. Unlike the Moffat Mission, it was approachable.

The mission church at Pella, near the Orange River

The mission church at Pella, near the Orange River

An hour later, 219 km from Augrabies, we stoped to take photos of a social weavers’ nest on top of a telephone pole. We had taken some photos of them on our 1991 trip to Namibia, on the road to Onseepkans, but with digital cameras one could take more pictures, and I hopoed to catch the birds flying in and out.

A social weavers' nest attached to a telephone pole. What will they do when cell phones take over completely?

A social weavers’ nest attached to a telephone pole. What will they do when cell phones take over completely?

We did not stop again until we reached Springbok, as we were worried that we might run out of petrol, and for the last 70 km the last block of the Yaris’s petrol gauge was flashing. We stopped at the first garage we came to, an Engen one, and they had no unleaded petrol. The next one, a Shell garage, was just replenishing its supplies, and and they said it would be some time before they could give us any. We finally found a Caltex garage and filled up there, 332 km after leaving Aughrabies.

Springbok, Northern Cape, with fields of orange Namaqualand daisies between the houses and the hills.

Springbok, Northern Cape, with fields of orange Namaqualand daisies between the houses and the hills.

Then we went to the local Wimpy and had veggie burgers for lunch. The place was quite full, and there were two blokes sitting near us who looked like Mormon
missionaries. There were three others who looked like businessmen, and one of them looked as if he was trying to sell the others something. Springbok  was a very pleasant little town, reminding me in a way of Mbabane, which we had last visited 30 years ago. Val had never been here before, and though I have been here twice, when travelling between Cape Town and Windhoek, it had been dark on both occasions, so I hadn’t had a chance to see the town.

Okiep, Namaqualand, a coppermining town. The chimney is left as a monument to Cornish miners who built Cornish=style beam pumps for the mines.

Okiep, Namaqualand, a coppermining town. The chimney is left as a monument to Cornish miners who built Cornish=style beam pumps for the mines.

After lunch we drove up a hill and saw the view over the town, and then drove to Okiep, which I had also seen only at night. We took some photos of a chimney, a memorial of a Cornish beam pump, and St Augustine’s Anglican Church there, which was surprisingly big, and in front of it were a lot of orange
Namaqualand daisies. It was another place I recalled stopping at in the middle of the night — travelling from Cape Town to Windhoek, we stopped to borrow R10.00 from the Anglican rector, Llewellyn Jones, otherwise we would have not have been able to buy enough petrol to reach Windhoek.

St Augustine's Anglican Churcdh, Okiep, Namaqualand

St Augustine’s Anglican Churcdh, Okiep, Namaqualand

We went on to Nababeep, another copper-mining town, which had a mininbg museum. We saw an engine, a coach and a couple of wagons from the old narrow-gauge railway that had run from the copper mines to Port Nolloth on the coast. They were rather badly weathered from standing for 60 years in the open, and looked as though they would deteriorate more.

Mining museum at Nababeep, Namaqualand, with train that took copper ore to Port Nolloth on  the coast. The line closed in 1952.

Mining museum at Nababeep, Namaqualand, with train that took copper ore to Port Nolloth on the coast. The line closed in 1952.

The gauge wasn’t as narrow as I had expected, perhaps 2′ 6″ or even a metre, certainly larger than the standard 2′ gauge one found in other parts of South Africa. Inside the museum were some photos of it in the days when the ore trucks were hauled by mules, and  there were also samples of the ore-bearing rocks.

Narrow-gauge train at Nababeep

Narrow-gauge train at Nababeep


We left Nababeep at 15:30, having travelled 367 km from Augrabies, and drove straight to Kamieskroon, stopping on the way at Arkoep Spruit to take photos of some fields of flowers. It was 16:30, and the flowers were beginning to close. We reached Kamieskroon at about 5:00 pm, and found Cosy Cottage,
where we were to stay, without any difficulty, and waited until a bloke came with a key to let us in. It had a TV, and we watched the end of a cricket match between South Africa and New Zealand, which we eventually won by 20 runs, though it should have been by more, only there were a lot of dropped catches. It was a cilly evening, reminding us that winter was not quite over yet, in spite of all the spring flowers we had seen,  and we lit a fire in the cottage


Leaders training and Women’s Day gathering

11 August 2015

At the weekend we had a church leaders’ training course, followed by a Women’s Day gathering and picnic.

In South Africa August 9 is Women’s Day, in memory of the thousands of women who marched to the main government office in Pretoria to protest against passes (internal passports) for women, which the government at that time wanted to introduce. It also falls in the Dormition Fast, so it seemed a good day to celebrate the most notable Christian woman of all, Mary, the Mother of God.

The leaders training was for those who are, or might be called to be, church readers, and was for males only, as it was held on the premises of the Monastery of the Descent of the Holy Spirit at Gerhardsville, south wast of Pretoria.

Students on the leaders training course: Bheki Buthelezi of Olievenhoutbos; Artemius Mangena of Atteridgeville; Nicholas Chauke of Soshanguve; Fr Frumentius Taubata; Christo Kokkinos of Vanderbijlpark; and Ernest Shilubane of Soshanguve.

Students on the leaders training course: Bheki Buthelezi of Olievenhoutbos; Artemius Mangena of Atteridgeville; Nicholas Chauke of Soshanguve; Fr Frumentius Taubata; Christo Kokkinos of Vanderbijlpark; and Ernest Shilubane of Soshanguve.

Fr Elias Palmos bought beds to provide sleeping accommodation in the monastery library. We thought we might be roughing it a bit, but the beds were actually very comfortable.

Where we slept-- in the monastery library

Where we slept– in the monastery library

When I arrived on Friday afternoon only Christo Kokkinos was there, and Fr Frumentius Taubata and his assistant Victor Rhema, who live on the premises, and prepared meals for us. As it was the Dormition Fast, the meals were very simple. We went to St Demetrius Church for the 9th Hour, and then had supper, and were joined by Bheki Buthelezi, who lives nearby at Olievenhoutbos.We waited for people from Soshanguve to join us, but they got lost in the dark, because of the road works on the R511, and eventually Fr Frumentius went out to meet them.

We had introductions and learnt a bit about each other. Christo Kokkinos runs a bicycle shop in Vanderbijlpark, and had helped out as a reader in his parish. Bheki Buthelezi hails from KwaZulu-Natal, but is working in Gauteng for SANRAL, the national roads agency, and is staying at Olievenhoutbos. He is preparing for baptism.  Ernest Shilubane and Nicholas Chauke are from Soshanguve, and are leaders in St Seraphim  parish there. We finished off with Compline in the church quite late at night.

Students reading in the moastery library: Nicholas Chauke and Christo Kokkinos

Students reading in the moastery library: Nicholas Chauke and Christo Kokkinos

On Saturday morning we started at 6:00 am with the First Hour; it was dark when we went into the church, and as we came out it was just beginning to get light in the east. There is no electricity in the church, so we used candles, which are made on the premises by Victor Rhema. If any parishes are interested in buying church candles, you can get them from the monastery — each bundle Victor is holding in the picture costs R50.00.

Victor Rhema with some of the candles he makes at the monastery

Victor Rhema with some of the candles he makes at the monastery

After the First Hour there was time for washing, tidying rooms, and reading until breakfast at 8:00 am. I went Atteridgeville to fetch Artemius Mangena, who was not able to join us on Friday evening because he still had to go for medical treatment from the time he was staying at the monastery and was shot by armed robbers some months ago.

This was followed by the Third Hour at 9:00 am. To begin with I read the Hours, but gradually some of the others joined in, and we used English, North Sotho and Zulu. After the Third Hour I said something about the daily cycle of prayer in the church.

Vespers – at sunset
Compline (Apodipno) after supper
Nocturns (Mesonichto) – midnight
Matins (Orthros) – 3 am
First Hour — 6 am
Third Hour — 9 am
Sixth Hour — Midday
Ninth Hour — 3 pm

In parish practice the services are usually “aggregated”, that is, jolined together into one longer unit. So the Vigil usually consists of the Ninth Hour, followed by Vespers, Matins and the First Hour, and in some parishes Matins immediately precedes the Divine Liturgy. During the course, however, we had them separately, partly to show their connection with the time of day, and partly to interperse the teaching sessions with prayer. We did not have Matins and Vespers, as they are much more complicated, and need a choir that can look up and sing all the variable bits. stichera etc, which we did not have. We were beginning with the relatively simple stuff, like the Hours and Small Compline.

We had tea and some more teaching, and then the Sixth Hour at noon, followed by lunch.

On Saturday afternoon Fr Elias Palmos arrived, bringing some course handbooks, and taught on the Ecumenical Councils especially the first one, and the doctrinal issues they dealt with, and in another session he taught on the Holy Trinity. Ernest Shilubane had to leave in the afternoon for a funeral, and in the evening I had to take Artemius Mangena back to Atteridgeville, as he had not brought any blankets with him.


Fr Elias teaching during the readers' course

Fr Elias teaching during the readers’ course

On Sunday morning we had the First Hour at 6:00 am again, and Val came to join us for the Divine Liturgy, which we sang following the Third Hour. In many parishes the Liturgy of Preparation is done concurrently with another service, like Matins or the Hours, so that there is one service going on at the altar and another in the nave of the church, but we did the preparation separately, so that the students could see how the bread and wine are prepared for the Divine Liturgy.  At the Divine Liturgy itself, Fr Frumentius served as priest and I served as deacon, while Val was the choir. Victor Rhema and Bheki Buthelezi, who are not yet baptised, stayed in the nave of the church. Some people from Atteridgeville, 21 km away, were supposed to join us, but could not do so as the taxis that were meant to bring them were engaged in ferrying people to Limpopo for Women’s Day.

Before, during and after lunch we had an informal class on church history, sitting round the table in the trapeza, where the students asked questions. We covered early church history of the Patriarchate of Alexandruia, to explain the origins of the Coptic and Ethiopian Churches, and how we differed from them. This was also a follow-up and expansion of what Fr Elias had taught the previous day about the Ecumenical Councils and the nature and person of Christ.

In the afternoon, after the 9th Hour  we went through the Liturgy of Preparation (Proskomedia) that we had done that morning, line by line, action by action, explaining the theological meaning of each part of the service.

Sunset in the monastery garden

Sunset in the monastery garden

We ended that day, as usual, with Compline, though somewhat earlier than on previous days, as we were all tired, and went to bed early.

On Monday we started with the First Hour before dawn again, only this time there were only two of us, as Nicholas Chauke had gone back to Soshanguve to fetch the women for the Women’s Day gathering. Fr Kobus arrived to give some teaching on preparation for Holy Communion, but we suggested he should wait until more people had arrived, and instead we did the Readers Service (Obednitsa), mainly to show Christos how it could be done.

When Nicholas Chauke returned with the Soshanguve people, Fr Kobus gave his teaching to a larger audience, and by then others were arriving for the Womens Day gathering as well. There were people from several different parishes, and His Eminence Metropolitan Damaskinos. Archbishop of Johannesburg and Pretoria. There was also the local city councillor.

Fr Elias leading the Akathis hymn. In the foreground, in isishweshwe skirts, are Angela and Martha Krunic.

Fr Elias leading the Akathist hymn. In the foreground, in isishweshwe skirts, are Angela and Martha Krunic.

Fr Kobus served a Paraklesis to the Theotokos, and then Archbishop Damaskinos spoke briefly, and Thomae Cavaleros spoke about the life of the Theotokos and its significance for Christians today. Fr Elias Palmos also spoke on the life of the Theotokos, and this was followed by an Akathist Hymn, and then a picnic.

Fr Frumentius, city councillor and compainions, and Archbishop Damaskinos

Fr Frumentius, city councillor and companions, and Archbishop Damaskinos

Owing to a misunderstanding some people had not brought any food, but others had brought more than enough, and so there was enough to go round, with some left over. Owing to another misunderstanding, Simon Shabangu, who was one of those involved in the planning of the course, missed the first couple of days, but managed to make it on the last day, and his comment was, “what a beautiful day it was indeed. We should continue organising such progressive events every now and then, since they unite the people in terms of getting to know each other n share ideas.

Women's Day gatheruing at the Monastery of the Descent of the Holy Spirit in Gerhardsville

Women’s Day gathering at the Monastery of the Descent of the Holy Spirit in Gerhardsville

We hope to be able to hold more leaders training courses in the coming months, at least 3-4 times a year, and hope we don’t have to wait 12 years for the next one!

Simon Shabangu, Thomae Cavaleros and Archbishop Damaskinos

Simon Shabangu, Thomae Cavaleros and Archbishop Damaskinos




The rainbow sign

23 July 2015

Recently the profile pictures of a lot of people on Facebook appeared overlaid with rainbow-type stripes.

This was made possible by the people at Facebook, who offered it on a page called Let’s celebrate pride. “From all of us at Facebook, Happy Pride!”.

There didn’t seem to be a corresponding one for celebrating humility.

SteveRainbowAnyway, it made me think of how Bishop Desmond Tutu’s description of South Africa as “the Rainbow Nation” went viral in the days when we were celebrating “many cultures, one nation”. So I added it to my profile picture on Facebook too.

It soon became apparent that South Africa, as always, was out of step with the rest of the world. When the rest of the world was denouncing apartheid as an unmitigated evil, the South African government stuck rigidly to it.

But when we finally abandoned apartheid and too up the “many cultures, one nation” idea, people in the rest of the world started denouncing multiculturalism as the worst thing since sliced bread (oh, wait, wrong metaphor, but still you see what I mean).

South Africa was uniting all the bogus “homelands” into one nation, while other countries, like Yugoslavia, were determinedly trying to drive people into their own “homelands”, and in the process gave us the term that so perfectly described effects of the former South African policy of apartheid, namely, “ethnic cleansing”.

But I digress.

proudly-south-africanThe other thought sparked off by the Facebook “Let’s celebrate pride” thing was the Proudly South African campaign. So if Facebook isn’t going to offer humility, let’s make the most of pride.

That probably isn’t the kind of “pride” that Facebook had in mind, but since they didn’t specify it, I suppose everyone is free to interpret it in their own way, though it does raise the question of who owns signs and symbols, and who gets to interpret what they mean.

So what does the rainbow symbolise?

The rainbow nation? Pride?

Back in 1971  a friend and I ran a kind of alternative news agency in Namibia, which we called Rainbow Press Services. We sent stories to South African newspapers, which didn’t have offices in Namibia, but as South Africa ruled Namibia at the time, they occasionally wanted to report things. We worked intitially for the Argus Africa News Service, and later for the South African Morning Group of Newspapaers. When I was sacked by the Windhoek Advertiser it became my sole source of income. When, a few months later, we were deported from Namibia, Rainbow Press Services came to an end.

But the name Rainbow Press Services arose by accident.

In 1969, at the instigation of Beyers Naude, I started some youth groups for the Christian Institute in Durban. I sent out a newsletter informing the members of the various groups of activities. The newsletters were produced by a stencil duplicator (remember those?), and I printed them on yellow paper because I had read somewhere that black printing on yellow paper was easiest to read. A journalist friend, Dick Usher, nicknamed it the Yellow Press, and took over producing it when I went to Namibia. There we produced a similar newsletter, the Pink Press, printed on pink paper to distingish it from the Yellow Press in Durban.

Of course we were aware of the symbolism of rainbows. In the words of one song,

God gave Noah the rainbow sign
No more water, but the fire next time.

FireNestAnd The fire next time was also the title of a book on race relations in the USA, presumably derived from the same song.

Paul and Silas bound in jail
Had no money for to go their bail.

The very moment I thought I was lost
The duncgeon shook and the chains fell off.

The only thing that we did wrong
was staying in the wilderness too long

The only thing that we did right
Was the day we began to fight.

God gave Noah the rainbow sign
No more water but the fire next time.

But there were other books that promulgated the idea that the rainbow sign was extremely dangerous. One such was The hidden dangers of the rainbow, by Constance Cumbey. Real conspiracy theory stuff, that.

CumbeyAccording to Cumbey, the rainbow was a secret symbol of the New Age Movement, which encapsulated everything evil in the world today.

So as a symbol, the rainbow seems to mean anything that anyone wants it to mean, good or bad.

My own take on it is somewhat different.

God gave Noah the rainbow sign, but didn’t say anything about “the fire next time”.

For a brief period of 20 years, from 1969 to 1989, the Anglican Church in Southern Africa had an experimental lectionary in which each Sunday had a particular theme, and the Bible readings were chosen to reflect that theme. The cycle began on the 9th Sunday before Christmas, and from then until Christmas the Old Testament reading was the “contolling lesson”, on which the theme was based.

The first three themes were Creation, Fall and, on the 7th Sunday before Christmas, The Covenant of Preservation: Noah.

This scheme brought out the Christian significance of the rainbow sign.

Perhaps I was influenced in thinking this because, as a child of the 1960s, I was familiar with the Beatles’ song We all live in a yellow submarine.

It was also fashionable in the 1960s to speak of “Spaceship Earth” — here we are hurtling through a hostile environment, space, on a planet with limited resources, and we’d better look after it, or we’re doomed.

The Bible, at least in the story of Noah, prefers the image of the submarine.

There are waters above the firmament, and waters below the firmament (the firmament, of course, being the hull of the submarine). It is still a hostile environment, though it is pictured as water rather than empty space.

And the people in the submarine are fighting, so that the whole earth was filled with violence (Genesis 6:13). And when you fight in a submarine, you are likely to make holes in the hull, and let the water in, which is what happened. And God told Noah (the only one who would listen) how to build an escape capsule, which, according to the story, he did.

Those three Sundays emphasised s sequence: creation, fall, preservation. God made the world and saw that it was good. Evil enters the world through human beings, and it is human addiction to violence that threatens to destroy it and all life in it. But the Covenant of Preservation is just that: evil may seem overwhelming, but it will never completely overwhelm the goodness of God’s creation. Evil may be powerful, but there are limits to its power, and God’s promise, God’s covenant of preservation, is that evil will never completely overcome the good. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not, and will not, overcome it.

And that’s why, also back in the 1960s, we used to sing We shall overcome.


Christina Mothapo’s funeral

11 July 2015

Today we buried Christina Mothapo, at 89 the oldest member of our Mamelodi mission congregation. She had been, like most of the other members, a member of the African Orthodox Episcopal Church, whose leader, then Archbishop Simon Thamaga asked in 1997 to join the Patriarchate of Alexandria. Christina was not only the oldest, but also one of the most faithful members.

Christina Mothapo with members of her family on her 87th birthday, 1 Jan 2013

Christina Mothapo (in blue dress) with members of her family on her 87th birthday, 1 Jan 2013

We first used to meet in a school classroom, and Christina walked up there for services on Sunday mornings. When the school raised the rent for the classroom beyond what the congregation could affor (from R30.00 a month to R200.00) we met in Christina’s house. That made it easier for her, because she was beginning to find the walk difficult. But it had some drawbacks — in a church building, the church is visible when it meets. In a classroom, it is less visible, and in a house, it’s almost invisible.

Val remarked that it was rather sad that an old lady should have so many beautiful flowers when she was no longer around to enjoy them.

Val remarked that it was rather sad that an old lady should have so many beautiful flowers when she was no longer around to enjoy them.

For the last couple of months, Christina had been ill in bed, and we had the service in the next room, where she could hear it, but not see it.

She also got a new blanket as a pall to cover the coffin, and another old ladyt in the congregation said, "Rather give me a blanket when I'm alive and feel the cold."

She also got a new blanket as a pall to cover the coffin, and another old ladyt in the congregation said, “Rather give me a blanket when I’m alive and feel the cold.”

One of the things Christina was very insistent on was that she wanted an Orthodox funeral, and was worried that after her death people would do strange things. One problem is that many people belong to burial societies, and one of the things they do is print funeral programmes, but those who draw up the programmes have no idea what Orthodox funerals are like. But we somehow managed to marry the two.

Deacon Stephen Hayes and Reader Peter Chauke at the funeral

Deacon Stephen Hayes and Reader Peter Chauke at the funeral

There are three cemeteries in Mamelodi, and while I had been to two of them before, it was the first time I had been to this one, rather unfortunately placed next to a municipal rubbish dump. I was struck by the number of recent graves. A few, like Christiana, had lived long lives, but so many have died relatively young, in  their 30s and 40s.

Christina Mothapo's grave, after the burial

Christina Mothapo’s grave, after the burial

With the saints give rest, O Christ
To the soul of Thy servant
Where sickness and sorrow are no more
Neither sighing, but life everlasting.

Thou only art immortal
Who hast created and fashioned man
For out of the earth were we mortals made
And unto the same earth shall we return again
As Thou didst command when Thou madest me, saying unto me:
For dust thou art and unto dust shalt thou return
Whither we mortals all shall go
Making our funeral dirge the song:
Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!

Memory eternal! Memory eternal!
May her memory be eternal!

Segopotšo ka go sa felego!
A gopolwe ka go sa felego!




Greece and the European banking crisis

9 July 2015

In the last week or so the news media have been dominated by the story of the Greek anti-austerity referendum.

At first it seemed that the “mainstream” media were saying one thing, and “social” media another.

Before the referendum I would see things liike “Don’t blink, Greece” on Facebook, while the “mainstream” media (including the Greek media) were presenting it as Greeks voting for or against the Euro, or the Eurozone, or the EU.

Celebrating the "No" vote in the anti-austerity referendum, Syntagma Square, Athens (photo: Julia Bridget Hayes)

Celebrating the “No” vote in the anti-austerity referendum, Syntagma Square, Athens (photo: Julia Bridget Hayes)

But that doesn’t seem to be the way most Greeks saw it. It seems that most of those who voted “No” were voting against austerity without end, and ever-increasing debt. They were being asked to vote on whether they should jump into a bottomless pit. Should anyone be surprised that a majority voted “No” to that?

Well, according to this article, no one was more surprised than the present Greek government, which called the referendum in the first place. Europe is blowing itself apart over Greece – and nobody seems able to stop it – Telegraph:

Greek premier Alexis Tsipras never expected to win Sunday’s referendum on EMU bail-out terms, let alone to preside over a blazing national revolt against foreign control.

He called the snap vote with the expectation – and intention – of losing it. The plan was to put up a good fight, accept honourable defeat, and hand over the keys of the Maximos Mansion, leaving it to others to implement the June 25 “ultimatum” and suffer the opprobrium.

That one reads a bit like a conspiracy theory.

But since the referendum the media consensus seems to have fallen apart, and we have seen a lot of wildly contradictory stories about what happened, what is happening, and what will happen in future.

It didn’t take long for the “Putin is the bad guy” meme to surface in the Western media: Is Putin Playing Puppetmaster in Greece? – The Daily Beast:

The weekend’s stunning repudiation of further European bailouts by a strong majority of Greeks shocked Brussels and beyond. That 61 percent of Greek voters want nothing to do with European Union “fixes” to their country’s grave fiscal crisis, which has preoccupied the EU for five years, represents a shocking development to Eurocrats.

What happens next is on everyone’s mind. Unless Athens comes up with a revised—and more plausible—finance plan very soon, expulsion from the Eurozone appears imminent. While that could cause financial instability for Europe, and may bring bad tidings far beyond, there’s one country that seems to be savoring this crisis.

That’s Russia. To the surprise of no one who pays attention to Vladimir Putin’s persistent efforts to undermine the EU and NATO, Moscow is poised to reap political benefits from Greece’s financial collapse.

Celebrating the "No" vote in the anti-austerity referendum in Athens (photo: Julia Bridget Hayes)

Celebrating the “No” vote in the anti-austerity referendum in Athens (photo: Julia Bridget Hayes)

Both that and the Daily Telegraph‘s story seem to be in the classic conspiracy theorist mode. They are different conspiracies, that’s all. The first suggests a conspiracy between the Greek government and the Eurocrats, the second a conspiracy between the Greek government and Putin.

I think this one comes closer to the truth in economic terms, though it could also be seen as a conspiracy theory, positing a conspiracy between the the governments of countries like Germany and France and the banks: Mark Blyth | Why Greece Isn’t to Blame for the Crisis:

the Greek deficit was a rounding error, not a reason to panic. Unless, of course, the folks holding Greek debts, those big banks in the eurozone core, had, over the prior decade, grown to twice the size (in terms of assets) of—and with operational leverage ratios (assets divided by liabilities) twice as high as—their “too big to fail” American counterparts, which they had done. In such an over-levered world, if Greece defaulted, those banks would need to sell other similar sovereign assets to cover the losses. But all those sell contracts hitting the market at once would trigger a bank run throughout the bond markets of the eurozone that could wipe out core European banks.

I’m no economist, but that article seems to jibe with what professional economists I know have been saying, and I see no reason to disbelieve them. And it seems that other economists have been saying similar things:

… the financial demands made by Europe have crushed the Greek economy, led to mass unemployment, a collapse of the banking system, made the external debt crisis far worse, with the debt problem escalating to an unpayable 175 percent of GDP. The economy now lies broken with tax receipts nose-diving, output and employment depressed, and businesses starved of capital.

But they persist, like medieval quack physicians, in believing that if bleeding the patient does not result in improvement, bleed them some more.

And then there is this article, which points to an important and often-overlooked truth behind all this: Greece just taught cap[italists a lesson about what capitalism really means – Business Insider:

Debt is not a guarantee of future payments in full. Rather, it is a risk that creditors take, in hopes of maybe being paid tomorrow.

The key word there is “risk.”

If you’re willing to take the risk, you’ll get a premium — in the form of interest.

But the downside of that risk is that you lose your money. And Greece just called Germany’s bluff.

The IMF loaned Greece 1.5 billion euros, due back in June, and Greece isn’t paying it back. Greece has another 3.5 billion due to the ECB in July, and that looks really doubtful right now.

This is how capitalism works. The fact that it took a democratically elected government whose own offices are adorned with posters of Lenin, Engels, and Guevara to teach this lesson to Germany is astonishing.

Over the last few decades we have seen a growth in the popularity of the ideology of neoliberalism, with its proponents saying that socialism is outdated and discredited. They stress the importance of “free markets”, and proclaim the merits of privatisation.

But here, as elsewhere, we see the essential flaw in this. What the exponents of privatisation want is privatisatiion of the rewards, but not privatisation of the risks. Thus they can be reckless with other people’s money and pay themselves enormou7s bonuses, but when things go belly-up, they can always apply to the public purse for bail outs.


The Daily Beast describes Greece’s “No” to endless austerity is “stunning” and “shocking”. and many of the other Western news media said similar things. Some speculated about whether the Greeks were too stupid to know the consequences of what they were voting for, and some implied that they were stupid because they voted “no”.

But if the Greeks were stupid, they nevertheless remembered more of Grade 3 arithmetic than the Western media who criticised them.

If you have a tank that is being filled at ten litres a minute, and at the bottom the tap is open and draining 17,5 litres a minute, the tank is soon going to be empty.

That is what the Eurozone troika wanted the Greeks to vote “Yes” to, while themselves standing on the hose filling the tank to reduce the inflow still further.

The Greeks aren’t that stupid, but the Western media who expected and urged them to vote “Yes” apparently are.

Back at the end of the last century the United Nations set several “Millennium Goals” to be achived by 2015, among which was the go0al of reducing povery. But in 2015 the Eurozone troike was not satisfied that, as a consequence of their austerity policies, 60% of Greek pensioners were living in poverty. They wanted it to be increased to 70%, or even 80%.

Would anyone in their right mind actually vote for that?

Yet the Western media and a lot of Western politicians seemed to expect them to.

The consequences of this imbroglio will not be confined to Greece, or even to Europe. They are likely to affect all of us. And nether the politicians nor the media pandits seem to be able to see any way out of it, and all offer widely differeing solutions.

Here are a few more interesting articles on the topic:

Celebratiing the "No" vote in the anti-austerity referendum, Syntagma Square, Athens (photo by Julia Bridget Hayes)

Celebratiing the “No” vote in the anti-austerity referendum, Syntagma Square, Athens (photo by Julia Bridget Hayes)

And, concerning the last, it might be well to remember this:

Therefore is the kingdom of heaven likened unto a certain king, which would take account of his servants.
And when he had begun to reckon, one was brought unto him, which owed him ten thousand talents.
But forasmuch as he had not to pay, his lord commanded him to be sold, and his wife, and children, and all that he had, and payment to be made.
The servant therefore fell down, and worshipped him, saying, Lord, have patience with me, and I will pay thee all.
Then the lord of that servant was moved with compassion, and loosed him, and forgave him the debt.
But the same servant went out, and found one of his fellowservants, which owed him an hundred pence: and he laid hands on him, and took him by the throat, saying, Pay me that thou owest.
And his fellowservant fell down at his feet, and besought him, saying, Have patience with me, and I will pay thee all.
And he would not: but went and cast him into prison, till he should pay the debt.
So when his fellowservants saw what was done, they were very sorry, and came and told unto their lord all that was done.
Then his lord, after that he had called him, said unto him, O thou wicked servant, I forgave thee all that debt, because thou desiredst me:
Shouldest not thou also have had compassion on thy fellowservant, even as I had pity on thee?
And his lord was wroth, and delivered him to the tormentors, till he should pay all that was due unto him (Matt 18:23-34).




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