A Personal reflection on Archbishop Emeritus Desmond Mpilo Tutu by Rev John Hughes
I can’t quite remember when I first met him, but it must have been in the late 1970s or early 1980s. Our paths crossed numerous times over the next 20 years mostly because I was a member of Provincial Synod (General Synod), The Provincial Standing Committee (PSC) and a Trustee of the Anglican Church during his tenure as Archbishop. I remember many of those encounters because he was someone who made an impression on you.
On one occasion, when I was a young priest, at a conference on marriage organized by the Diocese of Pretoria, he was working the room greeting people and chatting to them. He shook my hand and then he continued to hold it for ten minutes while he chatted to me. Doing this is not unusual in African culture, but that was not my culture and so he could see I was uncomfortable. So with this mischievous twinkle in his eyes, he carried on chatting to me and holding my hand.
The deepest impressions he made on me was his chairing of Provincial Synod and Provincial Standing Committee. This was the 1980s when tensions in the country were high, open and sustained opposition to apartheid was met with increased oppression and violence. South Africa was a simmering pot ready to explode. It was natural that, as we debated contentious motions at these meetings such as sanctions and not singing the national anthem that these feelings boiled over in the debates. Desmond would occasionally stop the debate and speak from the bottom of his heart, making himself exceedingly vulnerable. I can only describe it as a “fireside chat” where you felt that you were the only person present. When he had finished speaking the whole atmosphere would change. It felt like you had been called to a new depth in yourself to a better you, to the person God was calling you to grow into.
Once at PSC at Modderpoort, in the hot afternoon session Arch (as he became affectionately known) quietly handed over the chair to Bishop Michael Nuttall and disappeared. I sat there thinking “off to an afternoon snooze while the rest of us struggle to pay attention.” Answering a call of nature I slipped out some time later and as I walked past the chapel I glanced in and there was Arch on his knees praying. I returned thoughtful and humbled.
At this same session of PSC we were debating sanctions and encouraging multinationals to disinvest from South Africa as part of putting economic pressure on the apartheid government. Archbishop Desmond was a strong proponent of this strategy. I need to explain that the Arch was sitting up on stage at a table chairing the meeting. On the table was a white tablecloth that did not quite reach the ground. He was drinking a can of Coke. In the debate it was suggested that Coca Cola be encouraged to disinvest. We all watched in amusement as Arch surreptitiously placed his can of Coke on the ground and with his foot nudged it behind the table leg.
At Provincial Synod and PSC Archbishop Desmond insisted at the start of each day that we say good morning in each of the about 13 languages that were used in Southern Africa. Everyone counted and everyone’s culture was important.
I was part of the formation of the new Diocese of St Mark the Evangelist and to inaugurate the new Diocese we had a big outdoor service in the stadium in Shesego with thousand attending. All the Bishops were there as well with Archbishop Desmond presiding. It was a hot day in May. The bishops sat out on the centre of the field sweltering in their vestments in the hot sun while the clergy communicated the thousands of people present. One enterprising local went and bought cold drinks and carried them out onto the field to sell to the bishops. He had many customers. I thought only in Africa could this seem natural and appropriate. The service ended and I have a picture in my mind of Archbishop Desmond dancing out at the rear of the procession clutching his can (of Coke?) to greet the crowds.
It was the dawn of the new South Africa. I had a man (Louis) in my congregation who did not like Archbishop Desmond. Once very angrily at the church door he told me that if he ever met Desmond, he would punch him on the nose. Louis was also a sport fanatic. One day he was watching South Africa play cricket at Lords for the first time since being admitted back into International Sport when he saw Archbishop Desmond appear on the screen as he sat with the South African team that day. Louis was a changed man because Arch had gone and supported his cricketing heroes and now wanted to meet him and have his photo taken with him. Not too long after this Archbishop Desmond visited our Diocese, celebrated and preached in my church and I had the pleasure of introducing Louis to Desmond who told Desmond about his change of heart, and they had their photo taken together arms around each other grinning from ear to ear.
On the same occasion my wife and I had our photos taken with Desmond standing between us. As the photo was taken Desmond said to us, sporting his mischievous grin: “There goes your reputation!”
On that trip I remember accompanying Desmond on a trip out to the northeast of the Diocese where he wanted to visit some refugee camps. These were Mozambique refugees who had fled the civil war in their country, braving the Kruger Park and the wild animals to find sanctuary. People living under scraps of plastic with nothing. Yet when we arrived, they know who he was and there was much joy in their greeting of him. He brought them hope, they were not forgotten, they mattered.
Archbishop Desmond had a national and an international ministry. The demands were massive and must have been relentless, yet each year while I was on National church bodies, I received a handwritten Christmas card from him. I know from my own Bishop at the time that he never forgot the birthday, wedding anniversary of each of the bishops, their wives, and children. I heard this was also true of all the clergy of his Diocese. This was something unseen and reveals the true nature of the man.
I heard Archbishop Desmond preach on numerous occasions. Through this I came to realize that he had one message that came through again and again: “God loves you.” To this day my daughter, who was a child when she heard this from him, can mimic him perfectly in saying it. A little reflection and I realized that in apartheid South Africa and even in the new South Africa it was a message people needed to hear again and again. In the experience of most of the population of South Africa so much of what they experienced many times every day was saying the opposite.
Many words will be used to describe his ministry and his legacy. I believe God gave him a singular mission and he was always true to it, never distracted from it. Well done good and faithful servant.
By Rev. John Hughes
