A South African Sunday

Sundays are great days in South Africa… once coming here you quickly learn that this is a very religious and very Christian country. Any given Sunday I am able to walk down the street and simultaneously hear three different congregations singing. I love that.


Today I went to Imbali [local township area] to go to church there. As we drove up there seemed to be a mass exodus of people on their way to church, all dressed in their Sunday best singing praise before they have reached their building. We parked at the bottom of a grassy hill and walked to the top with dozens of other people. Once over the hill I saw the church we were going to… a massive tent [they didn’t have a building]. I walked in and looked at the half-empty tent that seemed to have at least 300 chairs inside. I have suddenly entered a southern Baptist church, choir singers at the front and men decked out in their shiny shoes and very, very sharp suits [I think men look so good when they dress to go to church!]. A woman grabs my hand and leads me to the very front to a row of seats that say “RESERVED” and we sit down [only to then remain standing and singing for a very long time], right next to the speakers [I have no idea when I am going to regain hearing in my left ear]. The singing and dancing commenced, half English and half Zulu gospel songs being sung at the top of their lungs. I have to say, that was the closest thing to a dance party that I have been to since coming to South Africa and I thoroughly enjoyed it. I am starting to think that all South Africans are born with beautiful voices, because everyone here is always singing and rarely does anyone sound bad. I tried not to look too awkward, singing along [despite not knowing the words] and rocking a bit—I have learned how to watch people’s lips to properly fake sing in their language from years of experience going to Melissa’s totally-in-Spanish Catholic church services… but I am sure they knew I didn’t actually know what I was doing.

After an hour of singing, the house was packed and people were standing up in the back. The sermon commenced and although I had made my best effort to not stick out like a sore thumb [which I obviously did], the pastor said how he was going to try his best to give his sermon in English for us… of course there are about 600 eyes all staring my way at this moment. Another guy joined him on the stage and translated everything he said, switching between English and Zulu, and mimicking his every move. The pastor sat down, he would sit down; the pastor threw his towel on the ground, he would throw his towel on the ground. He did a great job.

You can tell what people in the community are struggling with by listening to their sermons any given Sunday; “If you woke up this morning and you have no food, remember God will be there to bless you. If you woke up and still have not been able to get a job for your family, remember God will provide. If you woke up this morning with no hope, remember that God gave you hope through his son, Jesus Christ.” I don’t think in my church at home they ever spoke about waking up in the morning with no food for your family, because honestly that is not a big problem where I live. But here, it is. And as many hardships that the people here have [there are many, many, many], they stay very strong in their faith to God. I think that is a testament in itself, or at least a testament to the power of religion’s ability to give hope. It is so great, and I have never been somewhere like this, where despite the huge struggles that people have they are constantly looking up—God gives them hope for a better future.

The people at church today were very nice and welcoming. They carried their tattered Bibles through the grass fields with them back to their homes, often passing a few other churches on their way. It was a great sight to see.

*After today I will have gone to 5 different Christian churches since being in South Africa. I manage to go to church every Sunday, sometimes twice, and I am just really interested in seeing the different churches… the only issue is, I live somewhere where 87% of the population is black and yet somehow every Sunday I manage to go to churches where there is mostly or all white people. How does that happen? [Well, I know how that happens… I go to church often with the Youth for Christ volunteers, who are mostly from Europe, and it is preferable to go to church in your own language.]
** After some research on Wikipedia, I have come to find that South Africa is not even 2% more Christian than the US (80% Christian population here), but it just seems to manifest itself a lot more here than it did at home.