Ubuntu!

"Ubuntu." The word is everywhere this week at General Convention. Ubuntu. It has a rich, melodic sound, coming from down in the diaphragm. Try saying it with a squeaky voice; you can’t, can you? I first became familiar with the term in my studies of the theology of Desmond Tutu. What had given this diminutive yet leonine Anglican clergyman the courage to stand up to the racist ways of an entire nation? What had kept him going through the years of bloodshed and trauma? As I learned more about who Tutu was, and what gave him his vision, I realized it was Ubuntu. It is not something the Archbishop made up; rather, it comes from the deepest part of his tradition. It is, for Tutu and for many cultures in subequatorial Africa, a worldview, an overarching, organizing principle. Its essence is that there is no such thing as an individual without placing that person with the context of the community: “There is no I without Us.”

Gathering for the first legislative session this morning, the Rev. Frank Wade, retired Rector of St. Alban’s Church, Washington, DC and chaplain to the House of Deputies used the theme of this gathering, Ubuntu, to organize his opening remarks. He described an incident several months ago, flying to Los Angeles to participate in planning for convention. Frank had been, he said, deep in contemplation about this foreign yet compelling idea during the long flight from Washington. “I thought I had a handle on it,” he said. Then, upon landing he looked up at the airport sign and read, “John Wayne Airport.” Suddenly it hit him. His was a time and a culture that had long valued just the opposite of Ubuntu. John Wayne’s movie characters had been formed on just about as un-Ubuntu as one can get. Clearly, for us this notion of Ubuntu is going to take some work. We, as a culture, are not used to thinking about the Us and not the I. Actually, we seem to be all about the I. Isn’t that exactly why we’re in the economic mess we’re in?

Yet, this way of relating may mean something new and different for the working of the General Convention, for the Episcopal Church and for all of us. For those working here in Anaheim there is the possibility that we can work for some kind of consensus in doing the business of the Church. Maybe we can begin to lay down the deep polarizations and have meaningful conversations about what brings us together. Archbishop Tutu’s belief in Ubuntu, and our ability to embrace it, holds an even more profound meaning. For it is through this strange, African way that we all, each and every rugged individual, church leader and human being at large, may begin to realize and truly understand that when one person is diminished, one person denied his or her God-given privileges and rights, then we are all diminished. If anyone is left out, then we are all left out.

How strange, and how wonderful that this most African of notions, in the shadow of Disneyland and the John Wayne Airport might find root in the Episcopal Church and grow, beyond all our imaginings. Although something tells me even this would not surprise Desmond Tutu.