We are busy celebrating 500 years of reformation and one of the basic convictions of the reformers was that we know to (W)whom we belong. During the student uprisings that we experienced in 2015 and 2016, it became clear that the notion of ‘belonging’ was deeply contested. Students still experience that black people are socially, economically and psychologically abused by the white systems, including university campuses.
In empirical research conducted in 2016 with colleagues from five other faculties, these feelings and experiences of exclusion, of not belonging and of injustice among theology students and even some lecturers, were confirmed. This led to the basic research question focused on the subject field for which I am responsible at the Faculty of Theology: how do we work together as lecturers and students to help create such spaces of human dignity in the training of students who are busy preparing for ministry practice in a postcolonial African context in which they experience belonging? This article endeavours to provide an answer to this question.
During the night of 04 April 2016 a small drama was enacted in the passages of the Faculty of Theology at Stellenbosch University. In the early hours of the morning, students removed the class photos of previous years in the passages of the building, placed them on the floor, and in some instances rearranged them. Those of us who arrived there early in the morning to lecture stopped dead in our tracks. I think most of us felt that what occurred behind the curtains in our passages was the beginning of a new chapter in the 150-year narrative (Mouton
Various activities related to the removal and rearrangement of the photos can serve as markers and may help to interpret these events. On the walls where the photos once were, posters were arranged with the following expressions: ‘Black pain – White gender men – Violent space – Non-representation – Lack of transformation’, these can all be regarded as examples of what Shay and Peseta (
As the Black Theologians Collective, we want to make it clear that we have come together as Black students because we are tired of this place’s attempt to silence the Black Poor Voice. The Theology Faculty of the University of Stellenbosch through the Dutch Reformed Church still harbours Apartheid memorabilia in the Name of God, through practices and physical material. We understand that Apartheid was a point of privilege for White people only, but it was a pinnacle point of horror and it is still to this day, as we see it in the fact that Black people are still socially, economically and psychologically abused by White people and White Systems. (p. 1)
These students, in no uncertain terms, are expressing their experience of the Faculty of Theology as a place where they do not feel at home, where they feel they do not ‘belong’ and where they experience injustice. Because of the memorabilia, which find expression not only in the physical appearance and content of the building but also, according to them, are strengthened by certain practices, their experience is that they are socially, economically and physically excluded and therefore are not treated fairly. In empirical research I conducted in 2016 with colleagues from five other faculties, these feelings and experiences of exclusion, of not belonging and of injustice among our theology students and even some lecturers, were confirmed. The section ‘In a plot of action’ of this article presents a more detailed discussion of the research of this project.
The title of this article ties in with one of the basic convictions of the reformation, namely, the point of departure that we know to (W)whom we belong (Burger
These types of questions are however not as new as one might think, as the church reformers in Europe grappled with similar contextual and existential questions 500 years ago (compare the work of Vosloo
In one of Steve de Gruchy’s last contributions to the academe before his untimely death, he and Sophie Chirongoma used four elements to describe the postcolonial African decor in an imaginative way (De Gruchy & Chirongoma
Against the background of the multi-coloured decor of the four elements, Lartey (
In this regard, Mbembe (
The postcolonial stage presents several challenges to the ministry practices of all the so-called mainstream churches in Africa, as well as the places where theological students are trained. According to Lartey (
In light of the question in the title of this article, it is therefore important to reflect on how theology and theological training with a view to ministry practice should be practised at a faculty of a university without it becoming ‘enclaves’ for certain groups or denominations only. Venter (
Dramas are performed on a stage, but they make use of texts, the so-called script. Luther and Calvin’s emphasis on the reformation
As a practical theologian, I join my colleagues and students in reading the text of the world, the text of ministry practice and the text of the students’ actions through the lenses of my tradition and my subject field. In my reflection and research, I relate to an aesthetic-dramatic approach to the field, as articulated by Swinton and Mowat (
Practical Theology is critical, theological reflection on the practices of the Church as they interact with the practices of the world, with a view to ensuring and enabling faithful participation in God’s redemptive practices in, to and for the world. (pp. 6–9)
The plot in a drama entails events or, as we like to refer to it in practical theology, practices that impact one another and are therefore interdependent. For an extensive discussion on the importance of ‘practices’ in practical theology, see the work of various theologians in the volume of Bass (
Similar to the plot in any good book, film or play, ministry practice begins with the details of the everyday practices of people. The role played by the practical theologian here is that of an active participant and curious observer. In and through these ordinary activities the equilibrium is often disturbed and people’s faith starts to waver, among others, because of the experience of injustice, often leading to hardship, suffering and crises, such as the perception that I do not belong. Practical theologians are interested in knowing what causes hurt, where the injustice lies, why it does not work and how we can and should react. Osmer (
Students’ removing of photos from a wall during the night tells a story of trauma and alienation, an experience of injustice and of ‘not belonging’. Of course, their actions do not stand in isolation from what happened on the rest of the campuses in South Africa since October 2015 (such as
The second phase in the development of the plot is where practical theologians, through the use of
The 2015 and 2016 student protests marked watershed moments in the history of South Africa’s higher education landscape. The following is a summary of the findings from a research project by the Critical Citizenship (CC) group at the Stellenbosch University Conference on Teaching and Learning held in October 2016. Four questions were posed to the audience, and the discussion at each faculty group was facilitated by members of the CC group:
What is your reaction to the student protest page? (Participants were asked to respond to a photo prompt depicting Stellenbosch University student protest action in 2015.)
How do you think the protests affected student–lecturer interactions?
How do we decolonise higher education structures?
How do we take the conversation further?
Responses to pictures of the 2015 photographs were overwhelmingly emotive. Feelings of anger, frustration, anxiety and chaos were expressed. However, members of staff also expressed conflicted feelings, mostly of simultaneous anger and sympathy. The general consensus was that, although there were even feelings of solidarity with the issues students were raising, violence associated with the protests was unacceptable. Despite the reported intensity of anger, chaos and hopelessness, statements of empathy and sympathy for students and their plight were most prevalent.
Some colleagues found associations between the 2015 protest and past experiences, either at other universities (e.g. University of the Western Cape) or in other countries (e.g. Zimbabwe) or in the historical national narrative (e.g. Mandela-led negotiations with the National Party). Self-identified white colleagues, and white male colleagues in particular, expressed feelings of exclusion, wanting to respond in a way that was empathetic, but feeling disenfranchised from the populist discourse, and failing to find an acceptable response. The same cohort, it seems, also expressed fear, shame and guilt, hopelessness and powerlessness. Other responses included acts of distancing, unwillingness to deal with the collective trauma and surprise over the fact and the intensity of the students’ anger. However, these responses of distancing were marginal.
Views were expressed that issues raised by students indicated systemic disparities at the institution, that the complex nature of these issues and the emotions they evoked rendered them difficult to resolve and that in many ways they were intensified iterations of unresolved injustices at the institution, and in broader society. There was a sense that we had left the problem too long, and that we had missed opportunities for addressing them properly. By extension, failure to pay attention now would probably lead to further and more volatile disruptions in future.
Several ideas were exchanged about how to decolonise higher education structures. Questions about whether to remove symbols of the university’s oppressive past, whether to retain and re-interpret them, or whether to replace them with new artefacts (e.g. photographs) opened the discussion. The deficit of safe spaces, in both the physical and the abstract sense, was a dominant theme. Points were raised about university architecture, and design and use of physical spaces on campus, and the latent messages that physical spaces hold for students and staff.
With regard to an abstract interpretation of ‘safe spaces’, the participants felt that while students had safe spaces to express themselves, staff did not have. Safe spaces are compromised by an abiding sense of mistrust among staff members, and between staff and faculty management. This is further exacerbated by silos in the university – clusters of people operating in closed systems by themselves, or entirely dissociated with others in the faculty or department. Feelings of mistrust and exclusion were linked to several requests for anonymous platforms of communication and expression for members of staff. Responsibility for the creation of safe spaces was frequently placed with faculty and faculty management. Some called for a culture of debate at faculty level, citing the lack of courageous conversations and the broaching of difficult topics as the very reasons for issues remaining unresolved.
In conversations about how to decolonise the classroom (the physical and abstract space), how to deal with ‘difficult topics’ became a point of discussion. Some expressed a desire to talk about the difficult issues raised by the protests but cited not knowing how to broach the subject, feeling inadequate to facilitate such a discussion, protest-induced time constraints and added pressure to cover prescribed content as reasons for not doing so. Concern with being misunderstood, misjudged for their perceived loyalties, for being representatives of the elite (Afrikaans) or bureaucratic establishment, was pervasive for a number of lecturers. Several other lecturers went ahead and set aside the course content in favour of these discussions, taking it as an opportunity to gain insight into and raise awareness with students about historical contexts of which they may not otherwise be aware.
Ideas were exchanged about ways to bring about structural change by changes to curricula, course content and degree structures. Cross-pollination of courses in the humanities to disciplines not usually associated with socio-political content was suggested. Next to
Relationships between students and lecturers were reported to have changed in several ways. One interesting response was that lecturers or supervisors were shocked by the revelation of who their students ‘really’ are, where they come from, their homes, their contexts, their realities, etc. Some came to the realisation that we do not know the personal backgrounds of our students, and that it may be important to take this into account in how and what we teach. Few references were made to broken trust and feelings of betrayal, and there were even fewer remarks about relationships between students and lecturers remaining unchanged. For others, the protests evoked feelings of sympathy and care, not only for staff towards students, but also for students towards staff. One lecturer gave an account of how her class had been disrupted by protestors, and how students rallied round in a bid to protect her. Another lecturer mentioned feeling helpless, but still feeling compelled to protect their students in the classroom during class disruptions.
An enduring theme throughout the session was the need for different members of the university campus community to talk. Calls for ‘debate’, ‘dialogue’, ‘engagement’, discussion of ‘difficult topics’ and ‘conversation’ were repeatedly made. However, barriers to effective communication were described as follows: lack of common understanding and common language (e.g. definitions) of decolonisation; lack of awareness (on the part of students and staff) on where different parties are coming from; lack of will, but mostly, lack of skill, to facilitate difficult discussions with students and other members of staff; a trust deficit that leads to feelings of exclusion or threat; not enough time, not the right space, not the right context for courageous conversations; and not the right skills to bring up these important topics, and then hold them in a way that expresses empathy and safety.
These are some of the major themes captured in the analysis carried out in April 2017. It would be useful to keep in mind that although the frequency of coded items attracts attention, expressions of dissidence, avoidance, exclusion and depression may be infrequent, but are perhaps especially important to note.
A third phase in the plot development is where practical theologians reflect on what they want to teach and learn to and with students and how this should be done. (For a sound research in this regard, compare the work of Naidoo
The development of a curriculum for theological training on the postcolonial African stage requires that a complex number of aspects should be kept in mind. These include the challenges of interculturality and inclusivity, processes of decolonisation that place Africa at the core, the question as to the ways in which and places where knowledge is produced, the importance of computer and information skills and students’ experiences and feedback. Furthermore, this also includes the search for social justice in teaching and learning, which was also the focus of our research project. In various contributions scholars show how challenging each of these processes is and how they are interdependent (see in this regard the contribution of Msila & Gumbo
From the above, it is clear that interculturality and co-existence are central practical theological challenges to curriculum development. Lartey (
Crossing boundaries and helping others do so has been the main activity of much of my professional life and ministry. Over the years I have gained the conceptual framework and the philosophical apparatus to understand cultural and systemic differences. (p. 7)
His argument is that we are dealing here with more than mere multiculturality that is a static description of multiple cultures and that we should move in the direction of an intercultural community in which there is dynamic acknowledgement of interaction, mutual influence and interdependence. In this regard, the African concept of
One of the greatest challenges to curriculum development remains the integration of knowledge. At the Faculty of Theology we work with three discipline groups to help the students see how the
In the last phase of the plot of practical theology, the spotlight falls on specialisation. The role of the practical theologian in this part of the plot is that of an expert. There is a rich variety of specialisation fields in the discipline group Practical Theology and Missiology. The research of my colleagues and the projects in which we collaborate serve as sources of inspiration for my work. The focus of my own research is on, among others, congregational studies (Nell
The characters in a drama often serve as interpreting guides who lead one through the storyline of the plot to understand the meaning of the plot and come to the deeper nuances of humanity. Therefore, we identify with characters to develop greater insight into the reciprocity of the relationships between God, people and the world. The characters in the plot of ministry practice include a variety of vulnerable people. Newbigin (
The Reformers were convinced that it starts with a person’s calling [
Calvin’s Christocentric approach, with his emphasis on the threefold office of priest, prophet and king, helps with role clarification for practical theological guidance. Osmer (
In recent hermeneutical approaches to the office of the priest, it is clear that Christ as Priest vicariously takes our pain and suffering upon him. (Compare in this regard the insights of Wainwright
If, however, we work with the conviction that Christ’s incarnation heals and repairs our mutual connection with one another, there is the challenge to acquire and practise a spirituality of priestly listening. This form of listening is based on a spirit of attendance with full attention to people’s experience of pain and suffering in the presence of God. Therefore, it also urges us to investigate all forms of alienation and to work together for social cohesion. As practical theologians we are on the way to
In modern communities there is an explosion of information and it is necessary to develop
Koopman (
According to Wainwright (
Leadership, seen in this way, cannot but be transformative leadership; it is a leadership that is embedded in a spirituality of service and that is therefore willing to take risks on behalf of others. Here is mention of ‘deep changes’ with regard to identity, culture and processes. In this way, it is a sign and embodiment of God’s self-giving love for the world. Therefore, leadership stands in service of a moral community with the aim of forming disciples and citizens – people with character and virtue who in time develop into fellowship with God and fellow humans.
In the introduction of this article, I mentioned that the actions of the students a year ago brought us to a new chapter in the story of theological training at the Faculty of Theology at Stellenbosch University. The text for this chapter must still be completed and we owe it to one another to write and perform this text together. However, unfortunately there are no perfect models and strategies for the embodiment of the spiritual leadership required to this end. It is a case of stumbling, falling and getting up through vulnerable characters, but then not without hope – specifically christian hope. For Martin Luther and John Calvin this hope was grounded in God’s promises (Sauter
The research was partly funded by the National Research Foundation (NRF), grant number 109407. Any opinion, findings and conclusions or recommendations expressed in this article are those of the author and therefore the NRF does not accept any liability in this regard.
The author declares that he has no financial or personal relationships that may have inappropriately influenced him in writing this article.