The Complex Idolatries of Africa
Editor’s Note: How to Reach the West Again is Timothy Keller and City to City’s book on starting a new missionary encounter with Western culture. We invited ministers from around the world to respond to, extend, and engage that vision.
This discussion is premised on two basic ideas about African society.
The first is this: unlike Western society, which Tim Keller observes has rejected the idea of a “sacred order,” the African conception of reality is founded upon the existence of the spiritual realm. Prior to the arrival of Christianity and Islam on the continent, the idea of a Supreme deity who rules over creation was accepted by many, if not most, African peoples.[1] At face value, such a worldview serves as fertile ground for revealing the truth about this “unknown god” (Acts 17:23), but centuries of intense missionary endeavours have shown that it presents as many challenges as opportunities.
The second idea is while one can reasonably identify the specific values and beliefs that are leading Western culture, the same cannot be said for African society. The ideas that dominate the thinking and shape the values of Africans are incredibly numerous and varied, falling anywhere between strongly traditional baby boomers and older Gen X’s to completely Western millennials and Gen Z’s. The former would have experienced Western culture as a direct affront to traditional African culture through the subjugating effects of colonialism. To the latter, it is virtually synonymous with modernization.
This cultural melting pot is further stirred by socio-economic factors. Many boomers and Gen X’s who have experienced Western education (though fundamentally rooted in traditional African culture) increasingly identify with Western values and beliefs.
One night many years ago, I took a walk in the beautiful garden of our home in Harare, Zimbabwe. Something unexpected in my peripheral vision caused me to turn to the centre of the garden, where a large owl stood proud on the ground. It turned its neck to face me in that unusual way that owls do.
Now, there are two things you need to appreciate before I conclude the story. The first is that my age places me in that obscure territory between Gen X and millennial. The second is that in traditional African culture, owls are feared as conduits of evil.
a large owl stood proud on the ground. It turned its neck to face me in that unusual way that owls do.
So how would a young, Western-educated African man respond to a visit by such a creature? I recall my response as if it were yesterday. Two completely contradictory, yet equally instinctive ideas immediately entered my mind. One came from the National Geographic side of my brain, which marveled at the beauty and poise of this rarely-seen bird. The other originated from deep within my African psyche which, until that point, I thought had long been suffocated by a good education and biblical teaching. This part of me wanted to know one thing from the owl: “Who sent you and what do you want with me?”
The point of all this is that the question of how to reach Africa with the gospel needs to be broken down to address the complex idols of each generation—and of each socio-economic group. As the gaps widen between contemporary Western and traditional African culture on one hand and the economically-empowered and disenfranchised on the other, it is reasonable to assume that this task will only get more complicated.
THE CHALLENGE OF SYNCRETISM
Keller observes that the challenge of syncretism in the West is not so much the temptation towards polytheism as it is the lure of cultural idols. In Africa, both are prevalent—the former amongst older generations and the latter amongst the young.
Polytheism is perhaps not the best definition for the brand of syncretism found in Africa because, as has already been stated, Africans have long believed in a Supreme Being. It is the space between this supposedly impersonal deity and human beings that is a little crowded with a kind of functional polytheism. First, we have the realm of spirit beings: ancestral spirits, non-human spirits, and mini gods. Then we have human intermediaries: sorcerers, chiefs, rainmakers and so-called witch doctors, who interact with the spiritual realm on behalf of humans (with both constructive and destructive intent). And finally, we have human beings whose idea of community is not limited to the living but includes the entire spiritual realm.
This belief system is fertile ground for gospel proclamation—the redemptive analogies virtually jump off the page. However, it is within this very opportunity that the danger lies.
Here’s why.
Within a modern Western paradigm, faith in the God of the Bible requires a complete shift in worldview, such that one’s final destination bears little resemblance to the point of origin. And although the missional challenge to take someone on that journey is often slow and complicated, it is also more definitive.
The same cannot be said in the African context because one’s starting point already includes faith in an unseen god and complete dependence upon some kind of mediation. If the gospel is not preached correctly, it can be received as a coexistent narrative rather than what we might call a displacing narrative. For example, it would not be difficult for a traditional African to place the God of the Bible alongside the Supreme Being and the Lord Jesus Christ alongside ancestral spirits—a bit like a head of department.
The results are devastating. Professing Christians who rely as much on Christ as they do on their ancestors, who seek favour from the Supreme Being that they’ve learnt to call God. This presents a serious challenge for evangelism.
If the gospel is not preached correctly, it can be received as a coexistent narrative rather than what we might call a displacing narrative.
A second challenge is that, in Africa, the gospel can be perceived as simply the white man’s version of traditional African beliefs, and thus is irrelevant to black Africans. It is unhelpful that in most parts of Africa, the spread of the gospel came hand-in-hand with colonial subjugation and was deeply interwoven with Western culture. Images of a Jesus who resembled the colonial oppressors did nothing to help the situation. Even amongst millennials who experienced only the fading vestiges of the colonial era, there remains a distinct distaste for this “white Jesus” and his gospel.
THE CHALLENGE OF CHRISTIAN DISCIPLESHIP
When gospel preaching eventually penetrates the defences just described, there lies the great challenge of Christian discipleship. Although African Traditional Religion (ATR) views all things as spiritual (human beings and their interactions, as well as nature), African Christianity is largely dualistic. This means that a (traditional) African Christian will turn to Jesus for matters that he perceives to be inherently spiritual (church, worship, prayer, and Bible reading), but will turn to his plethora of mediators for more practical, day-to-day matters like relationships, work, money, and public life in general.
It is this relative silence of African Evangelical teaching that gives rise to false teachings such as the so-called “Prosperity Gospel.” The reason is simple: the traditional African view of the world is that everything is spiritual and therefore, all problems in life require a spiritual solution. The Prosperity Gospel meets this need by convoluting the true gospel in such a way that it resonates with African spirituality, which follows a basic three-step process: Approach, Appease, Receive. So, God must still be approached through intermediaries, only now this is done not by ancestors or witch doctors, but by religious leaders, the so-called “man of God.” God must still be appeased, no longer through ritual sacrifices, but through “faith offerings” in cash given to the man of God. When this is done, the faithful can then expect to receive blessing from God.
One Sunday I was invited to preach in a neighbouring church in Johannesburg. As I was heading to my car after the service, I heard the unmistakable sound of an African church in full flow. Out of curiosity, I joined what turned out to be the end of the sermon. As I walked in, the preacher instructed his congregants to pull out their credit cards and wave them in the air while he spoke a blessing of “miracle money” over them (for the uninitiated, this is money that just miraculously appears in one’s bank account). Unfortunately, I’d left my credit card at home, so I had to carry on working for a living.
Why would educated people do such a thing? The answer is simple: it is because no matter how educated they are, they intuitively know that everything is spiritual (and perhaps by extension, mystical) and through this false doctrine, they have found a form of Christianity that affirms their deepest beliefs about the nature of reality.
And sadly, it gets much worse than this. In only the last eighteen months, there have been numerous stories in the press and social media about pastors putting their congregants through the most bizarre faith rituals. Some were made to drink petrol (gasoline) while others were sprayed with domestic insecticide as part of their deliverance from demonic powers. Images went viral of churchgoers eating grass and lying flat on the ground while the “man of God” stood on them as he prayed for healing. One pastor had women bring a spare set of underwear to church and wave it in the air during the service as he prayed for husbands. Another staged a resurrection in front of thousands to convince them he had supernatural power. And these are just the few things we hear about.
THE CRITICAL ROLE OF FAITH AND WORK
I have been an advocate for the integration of faith and work for many years for two main reasons. Firstly, I believe that it is the inevitable consequence of the Sovereignty of God over Creation and the clear teaching of Christ and the Apostles. Secondly, because in my context, Christianity has failed to affirm what every African knows intuitively—namely, that everything is spiritual and everything matters to God.
I truly believe that if we as African evangelicals took the integration of faith and work seriously, it would resolve many of the challenges of evangelism and discipleship that we currently face.
This failure has led to a weak church that sings loudly on Sundays but has nothing to say on Monday. A church where a “faithful deacon” is also a corrupt businessman and cannot see the contradiction. A church where pastors don’t understand, and consequently don’t teach their members about, the sanctity of work and the redemptive call upon the life of every believer in every sphere of work and public life.
I truly believe that if we as African evangelicals took the integration of faith and work seriously, it would resolve many of the challenges of evangelism and discipleship that we currently face. I do realise that the Biblical call is faith in life and not just faith in work, but I would contend for a greater emphasis on work for two reasons. First, that’s what most people spend most of their lives doing. And second, other areas of life (such as marriage and parenting) have already been incorporated into Christian discipleship.
What if the worshippers I came across that Sunday morning truly believed that “doing something with their own hands” (Eph. 4:28) was as spiritual as praying for provision? What if African politicians, businesspeople, artists, and teachers truly believed that they are agents of Christ’s redemption in their places of work? Would not the hope of evangelism and the gospel flourish across the continent?
I believe it would.
[1] Sulayman Nyang: Essay Reflections on Traditional African Cosmology
About the Author
Sibs Sibanda is the executive director of the Faith and Work Alliance, a church leader and business development director for a technology company. He currently lives in Johannesburg with his wife and two teenage kids.