In 1985, at the age of 32, was imprisoned by the South African government for his role as a church leader in the struggle against apartheid. For two weeks he was harshly treated and interrogated. Now the presiding bishop of the Methodist Church of Southern Africa and president of the South African Council of Churches, Bishop Dandala spoke in Johannesburg with about how faith supported him at that time.
I prayed that the hearts of all the people engaged in the apartheid struggle would be softened and transformed.
We prayed without stopping. It was hell in there, I can tell you. But we proved how strong God is. We were allowed just one hour a day in the sunshine, for exercise. But no one looked forward to it because that was the hour during which the security police would pounce on one of us and take that person away for interrogation.
Every day we prayed together to ready ourselves for that possibility. Above everything else, I prayed that the hearts of all the people engaged in the apartheid struggle would be softened and transformed. And it was at those times that I learned much from the others in our group with many experiences of cruelty in the hands of the police.
When I first joined the prisoners in my cell, the younger men turned to me immediately and said, "Mfundisi [Reverend], you must pray for us." But I couldn't. I was too afraid. The thoughts and words just would not come. I couldn't offer the spiritual nourishment they expected of me. And they asked, "Aren't you going to say evening devotions for us?"
At that moment, I was rescued by another minister twice my age, who had been in prison many times. He sensed the hesitation and the dilemma in me, and he said hastily to the others, "Let him lead us tomorrow."
I will never forget that night. He based his prayer on Psalm 23, speaking boldly even to those prisoners who would not normally go to church. And he said, "God is here with us. [Our Shepherd] is looking after us. We will not be broken. Let us pray for those who will be interrogated tomorrow, and for their families. They're in God's hands, too."
I learned. I learned. I learned how to pray in prison. It was mind blowing! That minister just did not compromise on the reality of God. He was so mature spiritually. He was strong, strong, strong. He encouraged us all to take moments of silence in which to strengthen ourselves for the ordeals that lay ahead. He would lead us in meditation and show us how to make the most of those moments of quietness.
When my turn came for interrogation, I recalled something one of my fellow prisoners had said to me: "Remember, it is those who are beating us up who are really in prison. We must pray for them to be set free." And that was a powerful, helpful thought for us all. We were to pray that the madman would regain his senses.
The "madman" in my case was a burly white policeman. And he was rough with me. Very rough. I continued to pray as he tormented me, and after a while I saw him begin to melt down. He'd be rough one minute, and then quickly walk out. And I could see he was struggling. He came back and abused me again, and then rested.
When I thought he was finished with me, I said, "Could we pray together?" And he said gruffly, "Yes, let's pray."
Now, their strategy had always been to threaten us with the strength of South Africa's army. They said it didn't matter who we appealed to in Africa, the South African Defence Force could push them all the way to Nigeria and upwards. They said, "We care for this country and this continent, and we don't want to see them destroyed."
I said to my interrogator, "It's strange, because I also care for this country and this continent. And as we both care for them, we could pray that we will both be shown a common way of doing that." And he said, "All right, let's pray."
So I prayed that we would not have bitterness. I prayed for the day when black and white would deal with one another in a responsible way. And I prayed for the officer: "Lord, you know the things that are going through his heart. Hear them, and show him the way—as I pray that You will also show me the way." And [the officer] thanked me.
I was exhausted and weak. I hadn't had anything to eat for hours. But after the officer had thrown me back into the police car, he pulled out a cold meat pie he had in the cubby hole [glove compartment]. "Want to eat?" he said, breaking it in half to share it with me. I think it must have been his own lunch.
You know, that experience of mine points to one of the most remarkable aspects of the evolution of the new South Africa—the way black people prayed for white people. I cannot remember any prayer where black people prayed for God to bring fire upon the white community. They prayed that the hearts of white people would be changed. I have to admit it was the most difficult prayer of all, and we had to work hard at it. But it brought me some of my greatest lessons, especially when I learned to pray, "Lord, we leave them in your hands. You know what is right for them." Even now, that is my most frequent prayer.
When I was detained in 1985, I was responsible for the spiritual well-being of eight thousand church members, and the police were adamant that my arrest would break my congregation, and would stigmatize me. "No one wants a minister who's been in detention," they said. But when I was released, people came out in their thousands for a service of thanksgiving. The church was full, full, full, and people spilled out into the streets.
I had never really thought that in our time Christians could go to prison for their witness. Even more important, that they could pray for the doors of prisons to be opened, and they would open. But that was my experience. And as I stood in front of that laughing, singing, rejoicing crowd, all I could think and say was "Ah, our God is good!"
Lord, Light of the World, Africa cries to you.
You are our hope for forgiveness, healing, and transformation.
Lighten our path by removing darkness from our midst.
Where there is injustice, let justice come.
Where there is war, let peace reign.
Where there is poverty, let the hungry be fed.
Where there is sickness, let disease be conquered.
May we so embrace your Holy Spirit
that we will let your Kingdom come
on earth as it is in Heaven.
Prayer Spoken By
