At the core of me, and I suspect of you too, there is a battle raging.  It is a battle between the desire for revenge and the gospel call to mercy, the longing to see wrongdoers punished and the uneasy sense that Desmond Tutu’s warning is true: there is no future – for me, for you, for South Africa – without forgiveness.
 
Intellectually I can understand that the endgame of Apartheid produced no clear winners.  The Struggle played to a stalemate that led to a negotiated transition and, as a result, no Nuremberg Trials for the old regime’s death squads, torturers and generals.  The Truth & Reconciliation Commission that followed was the best alternative given the situation.  Yet it rankled to see the murderers of Steve Biko, Vuyusile Mini, Dulcie September, Rick Turner and Ruth First walk away scot-free.
 
I fully understand the revulsion that a century of hangings of mostly black prisoners in Pretoria Central can have on a society like ours.  Intellectually, I do believe that people can change, that the term Correctional Services is a genuine desire of our democracy and not Orwellian newspeak.  Yet I am enraged to see how so many brutal crimes go unpunished, and that ordinary citizens live in fear.
 
Yes, I understand mercy.  I understand forgiveness.  We have many examples of great sinners who became, like Augustine, saints.  I am drawn again and again to the figure of the reformed convict Valjean, in Victor Hugo’swonderful Christian parable of forgiveness Les Miserables, pursued by his chilling adversary the relentless, unforgiving policeman Javert.  I see the need to move from a society of institutional brutality to one that is forgiving.  And I know that 25 years of historical time is but a pinprick in eternity, and that a human rights-based democracy does not – cannot and should not – have the kind of draconian powers to stamp out violence.
 
But it’s difficult to maintain these beliefs when one sees that, 25 years on, it is still the little guy, the unimportant person, women and the poor, who suffer the most.  It’s difficult to believe in mercy and justice when our police services are under-resourced, often corrupt or just plain incompetent.  And it is double difficult when some of the oppressors were from the ranks of our liberators.  Are we surprised, then, when communities take matters into their own hands and revert to the dreadful tools of the past to reassert a semblance of control in their lives?  Or when, in a unequal society, there are those that horde and heap their wealth beyond excess as soon as they are given any opportunity – regardless of the compounding disorder that results in the process.
 
We must now draw together again so as to combat corruption and promote the common good over self-interest.  It is time to remind ourselves of the hope we all desire for our common future.
 
 
Reflection prepared by Anthony Egan SJ & Matthew Charlesworth SJ

At the core of me, and I suspect of you too, there is a battle raging.  It is a battle between the desire for revenge and the gospel call to mercy, the longing to see wrongdoers punished and the uneasy sense that Desmond Tutu’s warning is true: there is no future – for me, for you, for South Africa – without forgiveness.
 
Intellectually I can understand that the endgame of Apartheid produced no clear winners.  The Struggle played to a stalemate that led to a negotiated transition and, as a result, no Nuremberg Trials for the old regime’s death squads, torturers and generals.  The Truth & Reconciliation Commission that followed was the best alternative given the situation.  Yet it rankled to see the murderers of Steve Biko, Vuyusile Mini, Dulcie September, Rick Turner and Ruth First walk away scot-free.
 
I fully understand the revulsion that a century of hangings of mostly black prisoners in Pretoria Central can have on a society like ours.  Intellectually, I do believe that people can change, that the term Correctional Services is a genuine desire of our democracy and not Orwellian newspeak.  Yet I am enraged to see how so many brutal crimes go unpunished, and that ordinary citizens live in fear.
 
Yes, I understand mercy.  I understand forgiveness.  We have many examples of great sinners who became, like Augustine, saints.  I am drawn again and again to the figure of the reformed convict Valjean, in Victor Hugo’swonderful Christian parable of forgiveness Les Miserables, pursued by his chilling adversary the relentless, unforgiving policeman Javert.  I see the need to move from a society of institutional brutality to one that is forgiving.  And I know that 25 years of historical time is but a pinprick in eternity, and that a human rights-based democracy does not – cannot and should not – have the kind of draconian powers to stamp out violence.
 
But it’s difficult to maintain these beliefs when one sees that, 25 years on, it is still the little guy, the unimportant person, women and the poor, who suffer the most.  It’s difficult to believe in mercy and justice when our police services are under-resourced, often corrupt or just plain incompetent.  And it is double difficult when some of the oppressors were from the ranks of our liberators.  Are we surprised, then, when communities take matters into their own hands and revert to the dreadful tools of the past to reassert a semblance of control in their lives?  Or when, in a unequal society, there are those that horde and heap their wealth beyond excess as soon as they are given any opportunity – regardless of the compounding disorder that results in the process.
 
We must now draw together again so as to combat corruption and promote the common good over self-interest.  It is time to remind ourselves of the hope we all desire for our common future.
 
 
Reflection prepared by Anthony Egan SJ & Matthew Charlesworth SJ

Though little is known about Saint Joseph, and still less extrapolated, there is something profoundly important in our remembering him: he is the quiet figure standing in the background of salvation history, one whose greatest role is simply being there.
 
He is there for Mary, an honourable man who refuses to abandon her to certain disgrace and possible death when she is found to be pregnant and unmarried.  He is there at Jesus’ birth and leads the Holy Family into exile in Egypt.  He is there when Jesus makes his premature debut as a public intellectual at twelve in the Temple.  And, just as the canonical gospels tell us no more of Jesus’ childhood and youth, sweeping us into his public ministry, Joseph disappears from the picture.  From what we know of him, loyal and protective that he is, we can be certain that he does not abandon Mary and Jesus, but dies.  In an age of widespread marital disarray, divorce, and single parent families, his example of fidelity is a challenge to all parents.
 
In another sense, he is also a model of the anonymous disciple, the follower who never gains, let alone claims, the limelight.  He is everyone who does his or her job without making the 8pm news.
 
Both before and after 1994, we saw him in the millions of South Africans who tried to live a normal life in situations varying from hardship to chaos.  He – and more often that not ‘Joseph’ was also she – battled to earn a living and offer a semblance of ordinary family life.  Before 1994 s/he was often misunderstood as a ‘collaborator’ for not being on the barricades of at the negotiations tables in Kempton Park.  After 1994, where millions of ‘Josephs’ queued for hours to vote in the Election, s/he was once more relegated to the shadows of ‘normality’ as politicians strutted their stuff in parliament, where ‘experts’ pontificated in front of cameras and in board rooms and factories where the new and old elites divided up the spoils of victory.
 
Will ‘Joseph’ vote in 2019?  Or will s/he decide that a day’s paid leave offers more important things to do than once again elect the same celebrities who have to a large degree not made much difference to Joseph’s life.  ‘Joseph’, if you’re reading this, please vote: just as your role model never gave up on Mary and Jesus, don’t give up on our democracy.
 
 
Reflection prepared by Anthony Egan SJ & Matthew Charlesworth SJ
 

Equality
 
Equality means equal concern and respect across difference. It does
not pre-suppose the elimination or suppression of difference....
but an acknowledgment and acceptance of difference.
~ Albie Sachs, retired Justice of the South African Constitutional
 Court ~

For those of over-pious disposition, or who imagine that only their religious tradition will be ‘saved’, Jesus’ words about separating the sheep from the goats on Judgement Day (Matthew 25:31-46) must come as a shock. We are not saved primarily by our belief in the ‘right’ god (indeed in any deity), nor by our strict adherence to correct doctrine, or moral teaching, but by how we treat those who are marginalised. Theologies that speak of justice – Catholic Social Thought, the Protestant Social Gospel, Liberation, Black and Feminist theologies, and the justice traditions in all great faiths – bear witness to this as well, sometimes from the heart and sometimes from the prophetic margins of faith.
 
In South Africa these last twenty-five years the Constitutional Court has also stood out, a beacon on Johannesburg’s Constitution Hill, as a secular defence of values, often in the face of resistance from those who would deny the rights of the marginalised. For the most part the Court has resisted the temptation to easy solutions that benefit the powerful or to the popular judgments that pander to unreflective prejudices of majorities, but tried instead to seek the common good. In a sense the Constitution and Bill of Rights are our secular Sermon on the Mount, calling us citizens to reflect on the degree to which the law and our practice protects everyone and takes special note of the needs of the marginalised. It is not a text that favours anyone – it certainly does not give any religion special favour. What it does seek to do is protect those marginalised from unnecessary harm – and where it might disadvantage some individuals’ interests or beliefs it does this out of a desire for a greater good.
 
At its best, the Constitutional Court has delivered judgments that defend the rights of the poor and protects society as a whole from arbitrary rule and laws defending sectoral interests. The fact that it has aroused the anger of the ruling party and many groups (including the churches) is a measure perhaps of its even-handedness and effectiveness. Despite attempts to politically influence it, mainly through appointment procedures, it has managed to remain fairly neutral – and its popularity is perhaps a measure of its success.

 
A man had two large pots that he used to carry water from the stream back to his house along a narrow path. Each hung on one end of a pole that he carried across his shoulders. One of the pots was perfectly made and never leaked. But the other pot had a crack in it. By the time the man would walk from the stream back to the house, the cracked pot would have leaked half its water onto the ground.
This went on day after day. The man would carry the two pots to the stream and fill them both. On the way home, the cracked pot would lose half its water while the other pot remained full.
The cracked pot was ashamed of its crack. Because of its imperfection, it thought, it was only able to do half of what the man needed it to do. It longed to be like the perfect pot. After a long time, the cracked pot spoke to the man one day as he drew water from the stream.
“I am ashamed of myself, and I want to apologize to you,” the pot said.
“What do you have to be ashamed of?” the man responded.
“Because of this crack,” the pot replied, “half my water leaks out on the way back to the house. You would be better off if I had no flaw. I’m ashamed that I haven’t been able to serve you well because of my crack.”
The man looked kindly at the cracked pot and said, “My dear old pot, you haven’t failed me. While we walk back to the house today, I want you to look at all of the beautiful flowers along the path.” And sure enough, as they walked home the pot opened its eyes and noticed for the first time the beautiful array of flowers that decorated the journey home.
When they reached the house, the man said to the pot, “Did you notice that the flowers were growing only on one side of the path? They grow only on the side where I carry you, but not on the other pot’s side. You see, I knew about your crack, and so I planted flowers all along your side of the path. While we are walking back from the stream, you aren’t losing water—you are making the flowers grow!
Now everyone who walks along the path looks at the flowers and thinks about how beautiful they are. You bring joy to every single person who walks down the path! What you perceive as a flaw is the very thing that gives life to the flowers and brings beauty into the world!”
 

First Samuel 1–2 shares the account of Hannah, an extraordinary woman who endured many difficulties in life. We are told she had a caring husband named Elkanah and lived in the hill country of Ephraim. She was one of Elkanah's two wives. Further, Hannah was unable to have children, while Elkanah's other wife had multiple children. In a culture in which having children, especially sons, was viewed as being of utmost importance, Hannah's situation would have been overwhelmingly sad.
Once, when Hannah visited Shiloh, where the tabernacle of the Lord was, she poured out her heart in prayer before the Lord. She asked the Lord for a son, promising that if the Lord answered, she would dedicate her son to serving God all of his life. Eli, the high priest, saw Hannah praying silently and earnestly and thought at first she was drunk. After rebuking her, Eli heard Hannah's explanation and realized she had been praying. He replied, "Go in peace, and the God of Israel grant your petition that you have made to him" (1 Samuel 1:17). Hannah left, encouraged.
Soon, Hannah gave birth to a son whom she named Samuel. After Samuel was weaned, she took him to Eli and said, "Oh, my lord! As you live, my lord, I am the woman who was standing here in your presence, praying to the LORD. For this child I prayed, and the LORD has granted me my petition that I made to him. Therefore I have lent him to the LORD. As long as he lives, he is lent to the LORD" (1 Samuel 1:26-28).
First Samuel 2 opens with a prayer of worship from Hannah that glorifies God for answering her prayer. Interestingly, Mary, the mother of Jesus, offers a similar prayer in Luke 1:46-55. Hannah left Samuel in Eli's care but was not completely disconnected from Samuel. "And his mother used to make for him a little robe and take it to him each year when she went up with her husband to offer the yearly sacrifice. Then Eli would bless Elkanah and his wife, and say, ‘May the Lord give you children by this woman for the petition she asked of the Lord.' So then they would return to their home" (1 Samuel 2:19-20). The Lord blessed Hannah with more children—five more, to be exact (verse 21).
Lessons we learn from Hannah
Many lessons can be taken from Hannah's story. First, Hannah remained faithful to God even during difficult times. She had to deal with a polygamous husband, a lack of children, and mockery from the other wife, but Hannah never lost her focus on the God who cared for her.
Second, Hannah was a woman of prayer. She took her burdens to the Lord. She prayed for a son and then offered a rich prayer of praise when God answered. Her prayers were her lifeline.
Third, Hannah kept her promise to God even though it was difficult. She had pledged her son to the Lord, and she followed through. When the time came to leave her only son with Eli, she certainly would have had difficulty. But her pain did not lessen her integrity. By God's grace, she was blessed with even more children in the end.
Fourth, Hannah acknowledged God's answers to her requests. When Samuel was born, she gave thanks: "For this child I prayed, and the LORD has granted me my petition that I made to him" (1 Samuel 1:27). She did not seek to take credit or explain the results in any other manner. Samuel was a miracle, and Hannah praised God for His answer to her need.
Hannah offers a wonderful role model for all believers, especially for women who have endured times of difficulty in bearing children. Or a difficult partner in the home. Her experience provides an example of faithful prayer and commitment to God that Christians can apply today.
Let us Pray
Father God, may we be ready in season and out of season to share Your word and to pray for others.  Let us not be embarrassed or think that it may not be a convenient time.  It takes nothing from us to ask”May I pray for you?” when we someone distressed or in need.  May we be ready at all times to be used by you.  May we bear fruit at all times for you.  So that we may increase more and more.  May we never hide the talent that you have given us but invest over and over again in the lives of others. We pray you give us boldness and equip us through daily reading of the word, in Jesus Name,
Amen.

Established by resolution of the Synod of the Anglican Diocese of Natal
Challenge The Diocese of Natal is facing a number of unprecedented challenges, with our finances in particular, under increasing pressure. There may be a number of reasons for this situation, but significant amongst them is the fact that many of our suburban churches find themselves impacted by changing patterns of attendance and a rise in the average age of parishioners. Parishes that were once in a position to generously and sacrificially support Diocesan finances are no longer in a position to do so. Likewise, but for different reasons, many of our rural parishes continue to struggle with financial viability in the face of imperfect infrastructure, often vast distances over which ministry must be conducted, and the limited availability of resources for ministry (human and otherwise).
Question: What challenges are faced in your parish?
Need : These challenges within our denomination, play out against the backdrop of local communities influx. Rapid change in some, slow decay in others. In some  communities, still bearing the scars of our nation’s history, change has not come quickly enough. Poverty, deprivation and exclusion remain and the temptation to turn to ever more radical voices for apparent solutions is real. For others, change is proving difficult and has left residents feeling insecure and fearful; the temptation is to move ever further apart, to build bigger and higher walls. And everywhere, symptoms of our hurting nation appear as a plague of crime, corruption, violence, depression, abuse and addiction.  Jesus looked at the crowd with compassion. There before him were people with a range of needs, some material and some spiritual, and he brought relief to them as only he could. But he also recognised their primary source of need and vulnerability in describing them as “sheep without a shepherd”. As we look at our communities, the parallels are obvious, with many desperately searching for competent and compassionate leadership and a new hope for the future.
Question: What challenges are faced in your community?
Opportunity : Our challenges as a Diocese come at a moment of great opportunity, a time when the church needs to find its voice for the sake of the communities in which we are rooted. People, both rural and urban, need to hear the Good News of Jesus Christ the Great Shepherd, shared with new vitality and creativity, and to experience the personal transformation that is only found in relationship with him. And of huge importance in our hurting land, people also need to experience the joy and hope that may be found in belonging to the Loving Community of the Church - together with a new sense of purpose and fulfilment as the church works together in unity to meets needs and establish God’s Kingdom and its values in the wider community.
Question: What opportunities exist for your parish?
Solution : God has given our Diocese a vision. Our task is to ensure that the vision is fully resourced and that we are working towards its realisation. Our starting point must be faith-filled listening and obedience, asking for God’s guidance and wisdom as we work to overcome our challenges. But in doing so, we also have an opportunity to ask the difficult questions: to challenge our structures, our attitudes and our spirituality. Leadership will be absolutely key and courageous decisions may need to be made. The goal is not just to make our system of Assessment more fair and efficient, or to balance the books, but to shape a church that will be effective in sharing the Good News of Jesus Christ.     The Revd Archdeacon Chris Meyer

Is a guild for all baptized and single ladies who desire to fulfil their Christian lives within the Anglican Church. The guild was formally established in remembrance of Saint Agnes, a young girl who was slaughtered for her devotion to Jesus Christ during the reign of the Roman Emperor Diocletian. She was born in Rome (Italy) AC 291 and died in AC 304; St Agnes Day is celebrated on the 21st of January. St Agnes is depicted in art holding a lamb which represents her religious purity; she is also shown with a martyr's palm. The young martyr's life sets an example as to how as young women we should claim power in Christ to define our own identity and not conform to cultures claim to identify us in terms of standards of society. For we must have the courage to believe and trust that we are given the spirit of love, power and self-discipline and as young women we aspire to be like the various virtuous women of the bible and other Saints.
 
One of the main purposes of the St Agnes Guild in the Anglican Church is to become disciples of Jesus Christ and bring together Christian women to strengthen their faith and trust in God. We consider ourselves as the ‘sisterhood in Christ’, ‘intombi yomusa’ (Sisters of grace) and ‘flowers of the world’; this is truly who we are. Our beauty is not what meets the eye, nor the attractive uniform that we wear or the beauty our face holds, but it is the good deeds we do, the love we share amongst ourselves and fellow brothers and sisters in Christ, confirming in the truth of the Word of God and living a righteous life. For James 5: 16 says the prayer of a righteous person is powerful and effective. We too as the Guild have our aims and objectives rooted in prayer, in everything we do; prayer is the jet fuel that flies this plane.
 
The leadership in our region consists of a full committee which takes the responsibility to plan St Agnes events, and services within the Durban and District region and also in the Diocese of Natal. Our Chaplin is Rev. P Nyoni, who forms part of the Guilds support structure, she has committed herself together with other Clergy in praying for the success of the Guild and the services or events we hold, and offer guidance and great wisdom when we are confronted with challenges in the Guild.
St Agnes Guild objections are:

• To assist members to believe in the truth and to do righteousness repent
• To work as trustworthy members who work for the Church of God
• To pray daily, the Guilds prayer
• To attend at least one service a week
• To attend meetings without fail
• To make planned confession at least twice a year
• To evangelize the Good news, take part in Bible studies and Retreats.

 By: Ms. Thuladu Manyoni
Public Relations Officer for St Agnes Guild @ St Barnabas Bluff