FutureChurch

Amahoro ended yesterday and I headed back to Joburg, giving a lift to a few people. First, we dropped Philbert Kalisa off at Khotso House, which was significant in itself. Khotso House is where the South African Council of Churches is housed. Their website describes their mission:

"As a National Council of Churches and Institutions, the SACC, acting on behalf of its member churches, is called by the Triune God to work for moral reconstruction in South Africa, focussing on issues of justice, reconciliation, integrity of creation and the eradication of poverty and contributing towards the empowerment of all who are spiritually, socially and economically marginalised."

The SACC was hardly mentioned in my formative Christian years, and if it was, it was always in the context of "those Christians who had lost the plot of what Biblical Christianity was all about" - and that they were working for things which Jesus wouldn't have cared a whole lot about, because what was really important was preaching the word, evangelism, discipleship and a personal quiet time, not all that other stuff.

Khotso House was bombed in 1988, with the aim to make the building unusable. Adriaan Vlok was ordered by former state president PW Botha to do so, and was granted amnesty by the Truth and Reconciliation Commission. He spoke this week at Amahoro, and was part of a powerful scene of healing with a member of Koevoet, a notorious Apartheid-era death squad.

Philbert (who organised last year's Amahoro Gathering in Rwanda) was going to a meeting with the person who is in charge of bringing together perpetrators and victims with the aim of reconciliation.

"Amahoro" means "peace" and it reminds me of the angels' proclamation at Jesus' birth: "Peace on earth and goodwill to all men." If Christianity is not about this, it is worthless, like salt that has lost its saltiness. It will be thrown out into the street, to be trampled by the feet of the people.

Andries Louw writes about Philbert:

Philbert Kalisa, founder of Reach Rwanda (see also here) told me about their work in reconciling warring tribes with each other who then build houses together in “villages of hope”.

Amahoro. Peace. The Gospel of Christ which brings peace and hope, not war and strife.

After dropping off Philbert at Khotso (the Zulu word for "peace") House, I took Curtis Love and Paul Kiviiri back to my parent's house. Curtis and I have a few similaries: we both studied at Baptist Theological College in Randburg, he's an apprentice at Nieu Communities this year (I was there last year), we both sustained a long-distance romance while being at Nieu Communities, we both blog (Curtis blogs at http://curtisamongfriends.wordpress.com/) and while both feeling a call to some kind of ministry, we can't exist inside current church structures. Curtis spoke at Amahoro on his perspective on Christianity and reconcilation in South Africa (and unfortunately it was the only time during the entire conference that our recording software crashed. I'm trying to source the audio from Reggie, who was recording on a video camera).

I first met Paul Kiviiri in Uganda at Amahoro 2007. Andrew writes:

For the past 10 years Paul has been working to build bridges across tribal divides and establish new forms of church among southern Uganda's marginalised, nomadic Tutsi tribes people. He is part of a new generation of post-colonial African Christians living the good news of Jesus in Uganda. He gets some donations from overseas partners which helps to maintain an orphanage in the north of Uganda, and puts the money to good use. He showed me the photos of what they're doing, and what they've been able to build.

Talking with Paul reminded me of Kampala in Uganda, and of how I'm drawn there still.

We were asked to bring a symbol of reconciliation to Amahoro, perhaps to exchange with a new friend. I had no idea what to bring. I haven't been involved in much reconciliation, and so to bring something symbolic seemed to me to be...cheap (in the same vein as "cheap grace" for those who are familiar with Dietrich Bonhoeffer). The only thing I could think to bring was something I didn't want to give away.

When we did our field trips at Amahoro in Uganda, we could either go to Rwanda, Kenya, or Kampala. I chose the latter, and so was part of the smallest group. That's where my friendship with Luc Kabongo was solidified, and where we continued to laugh at me for eating goat (which is delicious, if properly cooked!).

Luc reflected on the first Amahoro here: http://www.emergingafrica.info/amahoro/luc-kabongos-reflection-amahoro. He now lives in Soshanguve with his wife Petunia as part of InnerCHANGE, a missional order amongst the world's poor.

One day in Kampala we had some free time, so Luc and I walked into Kampala from the Anglican guesthouse we were staying in, and submerged ourselves for an afternoon in the city. I loved it! On our way back, we passed a woman on the street who was selling rosaries, which I'd discovered as a very helpful way of staying focused while praying. I bought one from her, and have kept it with me since then as a reminder of Uganda, Amahoro, and my friendship with Luc.

I didn't want to give this rosary away, but it grew upon me that it was increasingly appropriate to give it to Paul, not because it was a gift to him from me as much as it is a symbol of when I will next see it, which will be in his house in Uganda when I come to visit him.

Amahoro is about belonging to a family. We're incredibly diverse: in age, culture, race, worldview and country. What binds us together is a love of Jesus and a love of peace.

Amahoro be with you.

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