As the old year drew to a close, so did the life of one of the Anglican Communion’s most celebrated figures, Archbishop Desmond Tutu, known throughout the world for his courageous stand against the apartheid government of South Africa and his leading role in the new South Africa under Nelson Mandela from 1994.
Many had predicted that the end of apartheid would lead to a bloodbath and civil war, but the miracle of a peaceful transition owed much to Archbishop Tutu’s chairmanship of the Peace and Reconciliation Commission, which brought the power of forgiveness to bear on the life of a whole nation.
His work was recognised around the world and he received many honours, including the Nobel Peace Prize, the Presidential Medal of Freedom, the Légion d’Honneur and the Templeton Prize.
Tutu’s courage, passion and compassion are not in doubt. He was made for his particular moment in time and seized the opportunity with both hands. It is not surprising therefore that many call him a prophet, but do they use that term too loosely? None of the Biblical prophets enjoyed the adulation of the world; Anglican readers will (or should) be aware that February begins with the celebration of The Presentation of Christ in which we are reminded of Simeon’s words that Jesus himself will be a ‘sign spoken against’ (Luke 2:34).
Once the battle against apartheid had been won, Tutu engaged in new battles, including that against corrupt and powerful leaders in South Africa itself, but it is difficult not to conclude that his passion for social justice became a form of moralism which owed as much to popular Western secular liberalism as it did to the often unpopular prophetic voice of the Scriptures.
In 2008, Gene Robinson, the same-sex partnered man whose consecration as bishop on 2003 tore the fabric of the Anglican Communion, published his autobiographical In the Eye of the Storm with Tutu writing in the Foreword: ‘Gene Robinson is a wonderful human being, and I am proud to belong to the same church as he.’ His subsequent campaigning included the arresting comment in a speech at the launch of a UN-backed campaign in South Africa in 2013 when he said: ‘I would refuse to go to a homophobic heaven. No, I would say sorry, I mean I would much rather go to the other place.’
However, evangelicals need humility in assessing Archbishop Tutu’s legacy. One of his most famous sayings was: ‘If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor.’ There is a kind of pietism that can amount to the same thing as neutrality and while we may not agree with him on every point, his refusal to be silent and his willingness to take courageous action are surely qualities we should encourage and emulate.
