Pilate

“The truth will set you free, but it will first shatter the safe, sweet way in which you live.” –Sue Monk Kidd

This is a stream of thoughts connected by one loose fiber: truth. If you feel like this is completely random, you were warned.

What is truth?

What is the truth and how separate is it from my truth?

The truth from my Cato Manor homestay is that people are people wherever they are. My sister swore up and down she was Catholic, but attended some mega-church with her friends. My baba (father) was an alcoholic with diabetes, who came in late with a friend to carry him and pretty much only wore his boxers 90% of the time. Religion wasn’t on the radar. Politics was, and his former career as a cop under apartheid seemed to have placed many ghosts in the closet. My mama- my tireless mama who cooked and cleaned all day, did shopping errands and laundry, walked up the hill to sit on a grass mat with her best friend- my mama clung to the church for a reason we never talked about. She was the only Eucharistic Minister at mass, arrived an hour early, had a special outfit--- but we never talked about Jesus.

The truth about my Newlands homestay (colored/Indian neighborhood) is that God’s love was revealed in the way my family treated one another. I didn’t need to hear them pray before dinner to know what they believed. I only had to look at the genuine concern and love they held for one another. I only had to see the outpouring of generosity in time and care that they gave us.

The truth about hospitality is that it exists just as strongly in Bemidji, MN as it does in Africa. People are people. Some are loving and hospitable, and some aren’t.

The truth about my nationality is that sometimes I feel so blessed to have had the opportunities and government of the US. The other truth is that most of the time I feel embarrassed that everyone knows where I’m from the minute I open my mouth. Our country’s imperialism and world power cannot be ignored here. Little kids I know grow up wishing they were American, not their own nationality.

The truth about today is that it was beautiful. The truth about my first day at the prison is that the success of the program was not hindered by the offenders, but by the administration and institution. Policies regarding space and time, red tape and hoops to jump through that were navigated beautifully by our friend here, but I would have tripped up at step one. Once I got to meet the women and work with them, it was clear that the next few weeks are going to be wonderful. They have a lot to express and share, and a desire to learn technique.

Our friend here, the hoop jumper, works for Phoenix and translated for me. She organized a ride for me to two different chemists when the first didn’t have my prescription. She took me on a shopping trip for more art supplies. She introduced me to a woman who leads a Lenten reflection weekly at the Anglican Church, and organized a ride there. She called me to make sure I got home safely from the reflection. She has children and a family, and her care for me was overwhelmingly loving.

The truth about Eshowe is it is where I am meant to be right now. I knew this before the reflection, when the leader invited me into her house for a bit before we walked over to the church. While sipping citrus/honey rooibos and eating a homemade bran muffin she found for me, off of dishes her ceramics major daughter had made, I felt completely at peace. Her home was airy and open, yet cozy, surrounded by green plants of the forest. We talked about faith and God and what Jesus calls for. We talked about truth and disciples.

“Truth is not a set of rules or evidence. Truth is not a moral code. Truth is found in knowing who you are, who God is, and through those two, who Jesus is. Truth is relationship.”

Our reflection centered on the Pharisees, adhering to the law to uphold truth. When Truth itself rejected this: had dinner with tax collectors and his feet washed by prostitutes, the strict law was put to test.

Truth is relationship.

What is my truth in Africa? What is my relationship with God, myself, Jesus, here?

It is different. It is changing. I have been to mass four times, only three of them Sundays. There is so much out of my control, and I know God has asked me to see and receive the Body of Christ in a different way here. I know a facet of my relationship with God, the world- that truth- was meant to be challenged and changed here. I miss mass, I ache for it sometimes, but in my heart I know that this is currently my truth. This is my relationship.

I am among the people of God wherever I go, and here I’ve had the time and focus to really, really look in their faces and see the truth they offer me.