I met a white man the other day who amazed me. I thought the likes of him were extinct in the land. He wore shaggy shorts, takkies (no socks) and a crumpled cap. He was perhaps 70 and had lived all his life in this country. He clearly loved it though he had to give up two farms first one, then another.But he wasnt bitter. While we were together he had plenty of opportunity to berate the powers that be, but not a word of criticism crossed his lips. Far from it: he spoke with respect about everyone though with a throw away laugh about the failure of the person we were dealing with to deliver the service he was employed to do.
He was the sort of person who knows the details. He knew the lie of the land, where the water could be expected, the soils, the minerals. He was a living encyclopaedia. But he was discarded, ignored, left to wander the bush as an oddity. But the word kept forcing itself on me: he is a free man.
Perhaps he realised there is no point in bearing grudges, in growing old in hatred and carrying resentment to the grave. Better to shake off all those feelings and enjoy life as it comes. I will say no more about him as I have no permission to write on him, but I do pay tribute to someone who may have lost much property but has gained real freedom. If you call him a bloody white, he will just chuckle. He is past being hurt.
And I met another man who has just returned from Northern Ireland. He was clearly moved by the progress the two communities there have made to come together after centuries of bitterness towards each other. They are baffled by their own success.
How did we do it? How did we who were killing each other only 10 or 15 years ago reach the point where we can almost live together. (I say almost because they are not quite there and passions can flare up if there is a provocation.)
Were they exhausted by conflict? Or are the old protagonists dying off? Or is it because they have made the act of courage, of faith, to put old hatreds aside? Their peace is not from exhaustion but from hope. They have actually decided slowly, painfully to create something new. It must be this because there is now a sort of peace tourism in Northern Ireland. People come from America and Africa, Palestine and Israel, to learn about reconciliation and building peace.
We know that peace comes from moving out of our bitterness, rising above our prejudices, reaching out even when it is most painful, acknowledging our part in conflicts and accepting the forgiveness of the other person. Reconciliation follows truth as the South Africans have taught us. And Zaccheus too; he came down from his tree where he kept his distance from the others and mingled with the crowd; he stood his ground and welcomed Jesus joyfully to his house (Luke 19).
Post published in: Opinions