Two days ago I went to a friend’s place to do my hair. She couldn’t do the much-needed house call for me because she and her partner couldn’t leave town. They were busy preparing for their children’s Christening. She had the boy years before she met her current partner, whom she shares a daughter with.
“Is the boy also going to be christened?” I asked.
My question was followed by her laughter.
“Can you believe I never took him for the ceremony because I am not one with the church?” she said, still giggling.
“Well my partner and I don’t go to church; imagine how that’s going to work out”
We both laughed. I guess it wasn’t necessarily because the events were funny but because we were raised by a generation that took church and christening seriously. However, here we are, rebellious as ever.
My partner and I had the discussion once or twice and in all instances, we agreed that it would be our babies’ choice to make. I do sometimes feel a little guilty; I imagine how disappointed my mom would have been. I almost hear my sister’s voice and how she would have said “I am taking those babies to church, ha ke na nako ya mahlanya nna (I won’t entertain crazy people”. I also play out scenarios and in all of them, I stand firm because I am that stubborn.
You see, I somehow feel like by not introducing the babies to that world, I take away their choices. How do you accept or reject what you don’t know? But then again being christened is a covenant with God. How dare I get them into an agreement to which they are too small to consent? That’s it, I will take them to church, should they one day ask me to.
A few years ago, my partner and I went to his parents’ church and we were immediately reminded of why we didn’t like church in the first place. We arrived there just in time for the thirty-minute prayer session and I was happy, I felt fulfilled. I was looking forward to listening to the word of God and praying, dancing, and singing hymns as the main session took place. My dream was soon shattered when an important matter arose.
The pastor walked to the pulpit and immediately spoke about how important it was for them to fundraise. He reminded the congregation about one of the buildings being too small for the number of kids that came for the Sunday school session. Just like that, the day became money driven.
Before you think I am ridiculous, hear me out. It wasn’t so much about the day being about fundraising….as it was about who could flash the most money.
“R10 000”, that’s what I and my family swear to contribute”, the pastor exclaimed. His speech was soon met with ululations and a round of applause.
“R500” pastor,” one member of the congregation said, and there was no applause. Eyes went on to the next person. My heart broke for the man who could only afford R500. My heart bled for his efforts were suddenly deemed not good enough. They didn’t have to say it as their actions said it all. The more money you afforded to contribute, the more important your story was.
I think at some point the man of God felt horrible. One child stood up and contributed R10, to which the pastor made a scene out of him. “How much?” the pastor asked the boy a thousand times, to which the boy replied “R10” pastor.
“You see, you don’t have to be ashamed of where you come from and how poor you may be. Young man, for your bravery, I am giving you back 20 times what you contributed. Here is a R200 note for you” the man of God exclaimed.
The congregation went bananas, suddenly there was a hymn and people yelled “God bless you, pastor”. My partner and I looked at each other. We were both disgusted by the act. He didn’t have to create a scene out of that. Our people suffer enough. He didn’t have to use a fragile person’s story to make himself look good.
The pastor’s daughter then came to the front. “Pastor, I want to contribute R700,” she said.
You should have seen him. His pride…..
“Wait daughter, wait. We just contributed as a family. Where do you get the money? Are you sure?” he tried so hard to stop smiling but he couldn’t.
“Yes, Papa I am sure,” the little girl said.
“Everybody, this is my daughter”. For some weird reason, people clapped their hands.
“She is contributing all of her savings” he added.
Oh, the congregation danced and sang songs. They were so proud of the girl. The pastor started turning red from blushing. It was chaotic.
“I vow to give R2000 pastor,” another woman said.
“No, no maan. I know you can afford more. I prayed for you the other week, I know you have a new job. No maan mme. Add more, maan”
The poor woman was cornered. How dare she pray for the job but fail to use the money for the same church that contributed to her blessings? As for me, I was fuming. How dare he? He has no idea how much she makes, and even if he did…..he doesn’t know how many more people must benefit from the salary. Needless to say that, the woman took the guilt trip and added more money. I felt bad for her. However, maybe I wasn’t understanding because I came to church for my own selfish reasons. I went there hoping to be moved, but instead, I hated it even more. I am still trying to figure out if I hate it per se or if I hate those who run it.
By the end of the day, they raised close to a half million rands. To which the pastor explained “this is disappointing. We needed R2m, this is concerning. I am afraid we might lose the building if we keep contributing this little.”
*insert laughing emoji*
How ridiculous can this man be? How naïve can, the congregation be. Is this church or is it a cult?
Jane Mpholo is an award-winning multidisciplinary artist, entrepreneur, and changemaker from Botshabelo, South Africa. As CEO of Jane Mpholo Pty Ltd, she is pioneering work in theatre, film, and site-specific performance art. The first recipient of the CCIA’s “Outstanding Actor in Theatre” award, she has performed, written, and produced for national and international stages. Honored with two honorary awards from Onalerona Productions NPC and the Southern Region Women in Media Awards, she is a mentor, producer, and advocate for inclusivity. Through bold storytelling, she sparks important conversations, shaping the performing arts landscape and inspiring change worldwide.
