I write this meditation sitting in the departure lounge at Götenburg airport on the west coast of Sweden having just spent two days at the annual conference of the Swedish Christian Humanist Association. The conference was held in Jönkoping about two hours drive to the east of the airport. It is raining outside, though it is the middle of summer, and having already drunk my allotted cappuccino for the day I thought it would be good to write my next meditation for Volmoed. Many thoughts are racing through my mind. One batch is about the conference, the paper which I presented, the discussion which followed and the wonderful people I met. But I also think back to my first visit to Sweden in 1971 when, together with Isobel, I was just starting out on my ecumenical travels to many places across the world. It seems an eternity ago. Steve was then only nine years old. Yes, it was an eternity ago.
The next batch of thoughts that fly unguided through my mind are about this very airport, for it was here, a few years ago that my plane from London was high-jacked on arrival by an armed gang who in a dramatic robbery made off with millions of dollars and pounds. It was a traumatic experience, made more so by the bomb planted under the plane (it turned out to be a hoax), and the icy cold weather outside made worse by my lack of suitable clothes -- all of which were kept in the hold for six hours until the drama was over. I trust that my flight back to Birmingham to meet Isobel and Jeanelle will be routine. Other thoughts come to mind that have to do with modern travel and communications, with e-mail and the internet, with Skype, facebook and Google, and the technology that brought me here to Sweden. We have begun to take all these marvels for granted. Maybe we shouldn’t because when do so we more easily let them dominate and control our lives and our humanness becomes a slave to technology. Christian faith does not decry science and technology, but it does insist that people and our humanity are more important. And that is central to what we call Christian humanism.
Unlike secular humanism, Christianity does not claim that “man is the measure of all things,” but it does insist on the value of every human person as created in the “image of God.” Psalm 8 is, in many ways, the theme song of Christian humanism for there we are told that God has made us just a little lower than the angels. That’s quite something for us to remember, not least here at Volmoed where we believe that we are surrounded by angels. And is not our Christian faith premised on the audacious claim that God became a human being in Jesus Christ, and in the life and death of that truly human being of Nazareth we discern the face of God? That is why I believe that to be a Christian is all about becoming more truly human, shaped and fashioned in the image of Christ, yet always more truly the person we are, the person who by God’s grace we can more truly become.
So what are some of the things that I said at the Christian humanist society conference in Sweden? First of all I suggested that it is important that we recognize that though we are wonderfully made as human beings we are, as the Bible reminds us, just dust, cosmic dust, yes, but dust nonetheless. We are the dust that breathes. That puts things into perspective, reminding us both of our connection to the environment and as such, of our mortality. Once we have acknowledge this we can begin to live each day as a precious gift.
Second, I insisted that being human is about relationships. We are not individuals living in isolation from others but persons who we are through our relationship with them. It is impossible to be truly human and therefore truly Christian without being in relationship to others through whom, as Jesus taught, we also meet him -- whether in the neighbour or stranger, the prisoner or the poor, our siblings or colleagues. Being truly human is very different from being an individualist whose life is shaped by self-interest. Our relationship to Jesus always requires that we are in a reconciling, forgiving relationship to our neighbour and even our enemies. Being Christian and therefore being truly human is all about learning how to embrace others who are different from us, especially those in need of love.
A third set of thoughts was related to the theme of the conference, namely the vulnerability of hope. As Christians we should be people who live in hope, the hope that we have in Christ, the hope that we have for the coming of God’s kingdom of righteousness, justice and peace. Yet it is a vulnerable hope because it is the hope of faith and love. Hope is not being naive. There are many reasons why we may fear for the future, for human life is fragile and often tragic. But while Christian hope is not naïve, it is an antidote to the widespread cynicism that we encounter everyday. You cannot flourish as a human being or as a Christian if you only see the worst in other people, if you believe that the future holds no promise, if you do not celebrate the capacity of people to love and care and work for the common good. For living in hope is about expressing our love not just for others today but for future generations, living now in such a way that our grandchildren and theirs will have a meaningful future. That was my closing word to the Swedish Christian humanists: being truly Christian is living and working in such a way that we live in the hope that future generations may also experience with us life in Christ to the full.
(John W. de Gruchy is Emeritus Professor of Christian Studies, University of Cape Town and Extraordinary Professor at the University of Stellenbosch. This is a weekly meditation given at the Eucharist service at Volmoed Christian Community Centre, Hermanus.)
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