Botswana Diary 7

            My cell phone lights up and the screen indicates a message.  “Stuck on the M1 – accident,” it reads.

            As I wait for my ride over to the TEE College (Southern Africa), I think back on my introduction to theological education by extension (TEE).  I was living in Kenya at the time, the dean of studies of the Diocese of Nairobi’s residential theological college.  The Trinity Grants Program from Trinity Church, Wall Street, was pouring money into Africa, East Africa in particular, in support of TEE.  They saw it as a healthy alternative to residential seminaries – more accessible, more contextual, less expensive.  Local writers were busy designing TEE workbooks, on the gospels, on church history, on African traditional religion.  Trinity Grants supported writing conferences, and resources in multiple languages were churned out, some quite good, some not so.

Behind it all was a strong vision for alternatives to traditional seminary studies, and East African Anglicans embraced TEE, especially for laity.

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TEE was a late arrival in East Africa.  It originated in Latin America in the 1950s.  The name Ross Kinsler returns to my mind as I wait for transportation here in Johannesburg and reflect on those years in which I worked myself up the learning curve about TEE.  To this day his name is associated with the founding of the movement, and in fact he spoke at TEE College a few years back on some anniversary of theirs.

The burden of TEE in Africa has been to demonstrate that its programs and resources have depth and integrity.  Some have been very simplistic, which is why they continue to be relegated to lay education and to be looked down upon by some leaders of residential seminaries.

But that is changing.  When I left Kenya there were those who were developing degree-level TEE programs, a sign that TEE was moving forward and might serve broader needs.

Which is what brings me to TEE College here in Johannesburg.  For many years it has been offering quality resources and programs leading to solid diplomas and degrees.  I visited them some years back.  Now I want to be clear about what they are up to these days, and to see whether, and how, their programs might be useful to the Diocese of Botswana.

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Craig Dunsmeir has extricated himself from the M1 and pulls up in front of my lodge in Melville.  He is the new administrative head of TEE College, an Anglican priest serving at an ecumenical institution.  We drive back to the College, his kindness over and beyond the call of duty, even though the M1 has cleared.

The College is between terms, so few staff are around, but even during term there are not many students around – some local ones come to use the small library – since it is, after all, distance learning. 

They enroll over 4,000 students from throughout South Africa and beyond.  Their motto: “Equipping anyone anywhere for ministry.”

We talk for quite awhile in a cold office.  They are good at the academic substance of their courses, Craig says, but he acknowledges that the nature of TEE makes ministerial formation, especially in community, hard.  He’s been working with the folk down at the residential College of the Transfiguration in Grahamstown, where Botswana already sends ordinands.  My mind starts working on the notion that Batswana ordinands might remain in Botswana for two years of their course of study, enrolled with TEE College, then head to Grahamstown for a final year of residency.  I run the idea by Craig.

He takes me over to where their resources are located, and I look at a few samples.  Dense.  EfM’s are more attractively laid out.  But it’s good stuff.  I’ll take substance over appearance any day.

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It seems a long time since I was worshipping at the Cathedral of the Holy Cross in Gaborone on my first April Sunday in Botswana, I think to myself as son Trevor and I walk down the street to the local Anglican parish, in the neighborhood of Auckland Park here in Johannesburg.  It’s the Fourth of July.

            St. Peter’s is a lovely old parish, very English in its design.  Now it boasts quite a mixed congregation.  The Rector is Vicentia Kgabe, and she is the Archdeacon for this region of the Diocese.

            Today is “Favourite Hymn Sunday,” and the requests have been eclectic.  One parishioner asked for the Battle Hymn of the Republic, and this the congregation sings with great energy, seemingly oblivious to its history and our Fourth.

            The “special prayer” offered today is “for our country, our visitors, and that xenophobia does not arise again.”

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            In a few hours I board my flight to Atlanta and home to Greensboro.  Packing is virtually done.  I have cautiously placed my many notes into my carry-on, fearful that my checked luggage might disappear, and with it the foundation for my final report on the Diocese of Botswana’s vision for theological education.  I may even pull some notes out, and type a bit, during the 16-hour flight.  (But probably not.)

            I wonder how it will feel, writing away in my study in Greensboro.  In my cottage in Botswana there seems an immediacy to the work.  I worry that the energy that feeling of immediacy generates might dissipate as I return to the routine, and the heat, of a North Carolina summer.

           

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             In the forty-six years since my first trip to Africa, as a Wake Forest undergraduate, I have never left the continent without a feeling of how richly blessed I am for the experience.

            Not to idealize the experience.  Things go wrong sometimes, and frustrate, and for every time the different pace of African life refreshes, there is a moment when it irritates.  But I like the time Africans, especially within the Church, take for people who appear at their door.  Including me, time and again in Botswana.  It plays havoc with schedules, but maybe that’s not so bad.

            And maybe it’s something for us to learn.  After all, Jesus let himself, and his plan for the day, be interrupted by Bartimaeus, much to his disciples’ chagrin.  Which role should we opt to play?

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            At St. Peter’s in Auckland Park yesterday we say together the post-communion prayer, but then, before moving on to the priest’s blessing, the congregation begins to sing.  It’s not in the bulletin, but everyone knows it.

                        God bless Africa.

                        Guard her children.

                        Guide her leaders.

                        And grant her peace.

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