The corruption in Africa is, at times, astounding. I want to believe that it's the exception and not the norm, but when it occurs in government it affects everyone.
Today is the birthday of Robert Mugabe, President of Zimbabwe. A country that was once the breadbasket of Africa, Zimbabwe now has more citizens living outside the country than in it. Lack of medical care, schools, food and jobs has reduced the country to ruins and stripped its people of hope.
I find that I want to be outraged at what goes on in South Africa and its neighbouring countries, yet I am called to pray for the leaders of this world. And that humbles me. I want to think that I'm better than them, but I cannot ask for mercy for myself and judgment for another. Grace doesn't work that way. And I don't like it, because that means I have to love my neighbour and pray for God's best for them as much as I ask for it myself. It means I have to realise that I, too, have failings and make spectacular mistakes. It means that Jesus died as much for Robert Mugabe as He did for me. It knocks me off my pedestal. And that just plain hurts at times.
1 comment:
Jesus' gift is such a personal moment to each of us. But, in spite of its sweetness, it eventually finds us with a meter stick in our hands with our own reasoned, arbitrary position firmly attached.
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