What did Jesus look like?

Most of us have some image in our heads of what Jesus Christ looked like, or might have looked like. If you grew up in a Christian household, there's a good chance you had a picture of Jesus hanging on your living room wall at home. There's many different variants of the picture of Jesus, but almost all of them have a few common traits. Jesus will most probably be caucasian, have a long beard; long, flowing, shiny hair that most Hollywood celebrities would kill for; flawless skin;, bright red/pink lips; ocean blue eyes with a sad and far-away look in them and, if his hands are up, shiny manicured nails too. Ooh, and his heart will be on fire. Yeah.

Now, nothing wrong with this picture. I think most people would like to believe that our supreme Lord and Saviour was flawless and perfect in every way, including his physical appearance. And the thought of Him being gentle and kind and meek and humble would also go with the gentle blue eyes, welcoming face, soft pink lips and soft, gentle hands. But the problem is, this picture goes against most things that the bible says about Jesus.

First of all, Jesus was a Jew, an Israelite. That means, Jesus was of Middle Eastern descent. He therefore most probably looked more like an Iraqi nomad than a Milan model. Of course, some people would curse at any proposed similarity between Jesus and Arabs, but if you know your history and geography, you'll know that Israelites and Arabs have lots in common, especially physical appearance. Also, common knowledge would say Jesus lived in a desert, or a semi-desert. And deserts are hot and windy and dry. You know what all that wind and all that whirling sand and all that exposure to the sun will do to your hair and skin? Split ends, dry hair, tough leathery skin, sun-spots etc. And the lips, the dry, chapped lips; Labello would have a very hard time protecting them. One could argue that He used primitive shampoos and conditioners and other chemical treatments, but, if they did exist in his time, they were probably way too expensive for Him to afford. Add that Jesus walked everywhere he went, and you'll have a better idea. And finally, Jesus was a carpenter. That means he worked with wood, hammers, nails, glue, fire, saws, axes and a host of other woodworking tools (ask Julius Malema for the complete list). So his hands were most probably tough as hippo hide, and bigger than most men's. And cracked nails too. Yup, definitely cracked nails. Not the prettiest picture then. I can't explain the heart on fire though, no thoughts on that.

The thing is, most of the pictures that we see of Jesus were originally painted by Italian and other European artists, the likes of Michelangelo and Da Vinci. And, being Italian, they based their illustrations on the Italian men around them. Also, these were mostly painted centuries after His death. So the illustrations are heavily misguided, and were made to appeal to the generation at the time. If you can look at His circumstances, and the times he grew up in, and the experiences he went through, you will most definitely have a different picture of the man that Jesus was.

Now, you're probably thinking "Whats the point of all this?" and truth be told, there is no final point, I'm not out to prove anything. Because at the end of the day, it doesnt matter one bit what you think Jesus looked like. Whether he was white, black, Chinese, fat, thin, tall, short, long hair, bald, toothless, wore pink robes etc... it doesn't matter! As long as you believe in His death and resurrection, and you have complete faith in Him, and He is your #1, that is all that matters. What I'm trying to say here is, most Christians have a completely distorted view of who Jesus was, what His character was, how He saw the world, how He saw other human beings. Over the centuries, His person has become twisted and contorted beyond recognition. This is just to open your eyes to any misconception you might have. His physical appearance is just the tip of the farce iceberg. In the near future, we shall explore in more detail the other, deeper side, personality, character, thought process, what ticked him off etc.

Till then, I rest,
Mzwandile

Judging

People in general oppose passing judgment on others, and this is a good thing because most of us are really not equipped to pass judgment on anything, let alone on stuff which we know NOTHING about. There's a reason why judicial judges have to have years of legal training and practice behind them before they can be qualified to pass judgment, and even then it is not uncommon for them to take months and many separate hearings in order to pass judgment, and it usually takes them even longer to settle on fair sentencing. Why then do we "common" human beings feel that we are adequately skilled to pass judgment on our fellow man? No, knowledge of the bible and spending years in church does not make u adequately skilled.

However, there is a flipside to this. Yes, its quite true that a person is innocent until proven guilty. Here's a question: if I see with my own eyes a person taking something that does not belong to him, can I call that person a thief immediately, or do I first have to wait for the courts to find him guilty first? And if I do decide to call him a thief without waiting for the courts, am I then passing undue judgment or am I simply stating a fact based on what I witnessed with my very own eyes? And does it matter if the stuff I saw him taking belongs to me or if I had nothing at all to do with it? Some people think it matters.

Another question is, if I am a thief myself, does that mean that I am then not qualified to label other people as thieves, even though they clearly are, simply because I am guilty of the same crime as well? Should we be differentiating between labels which are merely descriptive (thief, prostitute, liar etc) and those which pass condemnation? Do we even know the difference? And lastly, to which should we be focusing more: honesty, brutal as it may be, or political correctness, to protect feelings and not be defamatory? Or does it vary depending on the matter at hand?

Think about it, tell me your thoughts.

Mzwa

Whats up?

Just about everyone who knows me will tell you that I'm not very fluent in slang, whether township slang or American slang. Some of my most embarrassing moments have been when I'm visiting Soweto and my sister introduces me to some of her friends. As I extend my arm for a handshake the other dude goes "Fede?", and I'm always left with this "Uuhhh...." look on my face. Because it always takes me a few seconds to register exactly what "Fede?" means. And to be quite honest, I still have very little idea what it means.

Granted, I may be too analytical. I don't like saying or doing things unless there is a very clear reason why I should do that thing that way, and there's a defined result in doing that thing that way, and there isn't a better way to do that thing. But every now and then something comes along that everyone just takes to like a duck to water, and it becomes such an integral part of life that you don't really have a choice but to join in, get with the program.

But there's some things I can't get a hold of. You'll find this strange and nerdy of me (what's new?) but I just can't get used to the phrase "What's up" or "Wassup" or even worse "Sup". I just cannot respond to that, whenever someone greets me that way. I mean, what do I say? Do I say "I'm good" or "I'm ok"? But that wasn't the question. Do I look up first, and then answer? Most of the time I say "Nothing", not because there's really nothing, but because that's the only answer which sounds right. I mean, I can handle other slang greetings, like if someone says "Howzit" or "Hoezit", I know immediately that the answer to that is "Sharp sharp". Its clearly defined and I can't get confused. And the question is a simple "How is it?" which makes sense. What's up? Not so much hey.

Thing is, everyone uses it. They especially like "Sup" which I especially don't like because to me it's just lazy. You're asking a senseless question and you're abbreviating it. Mnxm. They use it on instant messaging, on the phone, facebook, even e-mails. It's like, you don't really know what you want. I mean, when you say "Sup", what exactly are you expecting? Look up your damn self man!!! Unless you sprained your neck and you seriously need to see the sky but you're physically unable to do so, you shouldn't ask that. It's not on. Not one bit.

But I suppose it's just one of those things I'll have to get used to, along with sms shorthand (a longer tirade on that later).

I rest,
Me

Some brilliant soccer videos

Aphi Amakwerekwere

Yesterday (16 June '10) I decided to go and watch the South Africa vs Uruguay game in the township of Khayelitsha. They have one of these really cool "Fan Jols" which they have set up in most of the townships around the country so that those without tickets can watch the games on big screens for free, and its a very cool vibe there, what with the vuvuzelas buzzing inceasantly.

No, this is not a piece about how Bafana embarrassed the nation so much last night (tempting but I won't), but it centers around the game.

Now, as I said, there was a lot of jubilation at the fan jol, with everyone everyone else's friend. Of course, this didn't last long as you probably know. After the second Uruguayan goal everyone was hating Bafana and people started leaving. And then the third goal came in, and people started swearing, and people went off to the tarverns, and while they were leaving, you could hear shouts of "Aphi amakwerekwere, awashe amakwerekwere (where's the kwerekweres, let the kwerekweres burn)".

In case you are not aware, kwerekwere is a derogatory term that is used in South Africa to refer to foreigners of African descent. Yes, when Bafana was losing, some guys were looking to take out their frustrations on innocent foreigners. And these were such young guys, teenagers some of them. They were not drunk too, some of them maybe high on the ganja they managed to sneak into the grounds, but most of those shouting like this were, from what I saw, sober. Of course, it wasn't everybody in the crowd shouting these things, it was a minority, less than 5%, but it was still disturbing. And try as I might to find comfort in the chance that they might be joking, I couldn't find it. They looked serious, especially when they were waving the sticks and empty bottles.

I was embarrassed. This is what some call the "township mentality" and its the few rotten apples who give the rest of the people there a bad name. Having grown up in a township myself (Umlazi, what a place) I'm quite aware of some of the negative elements of growing up in that environment (slums, unemployment, no services), it creates a mindset which is hard to crack. And I know the "herd effect" when the stupidity of one is multiplied by the number present, so it escalates. But I hadn't expected what I saw there. And I was just glad that I had resisted the temptation to invite my Zimbabwean and Ugandan friends to join me in Khayelitsha, as I had planned.

Now, clearly there is substance to the rumours we've heard that some people are planning the purging of foreigners as soon as the world cup is over. This is not very surprising, considering how the debacle of two years ago was never resolved, only dealt with for the moment and the underlying issues swept under the carpet. And we know how quickly and effeciently pests and dust and germs can multiply under carpets. Simply taking the victims and placing them in distant compounds and telling everyone that its now alright was never gonna be a permanent solution. The ignorance which culminated in the original "purgings" is still there, the misinformation is still there, the fear is still there, the loathing is still. Cutting a tree at the trunk while leaving the roots intact does not kill the tree. In fact, it gives the roots more time to grow farther and stronger, so that by the time the tree rears its ugly head again, it'll be harder to get rid of.

We need more decisive action in this matter, from all fronts: the government, the ANC, the ANC Youth League, the Police, Home Affairs, Department of Education, the media, churches, everyone!! What people need to realise is that, in this country, there is really enough to go around. Those in the know say this country is operating way below full capacity. With the right systems in place and, more importantly, the right national mindset, we could easily double South Africa's GDP. We do not have to be fighting over scraps, especially to the point of spilling innocent blood. Its frustrating to see that there are really people who think in such twisted ways, who see life as being so cheap only because it comes from the DRC. Maybe its because I have so many friends from other African countries, and members of my youth group too, and I saw how terrified they were two years ago, that I feel the need for more decisive action. This cannot go on. Our rainbow is tainted, in fact it doesn't exist at all, as long as these elements still persist in our societies.

It also doesn't help that these things happened on Youth Day, after Bafana played #&$% soccer.

Bantu Steven Biko, Walter Sisulu, Solomon Mahlangu, they would be ashamed at the attitudes of some of the present day South African youth.

I rest,
Mzwa

Have you hugged a shark today?

The dead burying the dead, feeding the dead

There's a lot of things that we, black people, do in the name of culture, tradition or custom but other than that we're not really sure why we do them, or how they benefit us. Sometimes we're not sure if they benefit us in any way at all, but we still do them for old time's sakes. Also, you'll find that there's a lot of people out there who confuse tradition with habit. Most of the time this doesn't bother me much, because generally people are the masters of their own destinies, and whatever they do in the name of culture only affects them or their immediate families, nobody else. But then there are times when the effect is far reaching.

This is highlighted the most when there's a death in the family. This is one of those instances when, in my eyes, the communal spirit of the African shows its negative side. Because this when the troubles of the family of the deceased are multiplied. For example, suppose that somebody dies on a Monday. This will typically be buried on a Saturday, sometimes on a Sunday, depending on religious inclination. Then one or more of the older women in the family will be required to sit on a mattress of reed mat, probably in the main bedroom, until the day of burial. Fair enough, people mourn in different way. Which, of course, brings us to the mourners.

From the day that people hear of the passing, they will start visiting the family to offer their respects and condolences. A noble act this, and one which I encourage and do myself when the need arises. You'll have relatives who will come and take up temporary residence in the house, until after the funeral. And friends and neighbours will come daily to offer prayers. And in some circles, on the night before the funeral, there'll be a huge prayer service which will last the whole night.

But now here's the sad part: these visiting relatives who have taken up permanent residence, and some of the friends, will expect the family of the deceased to provide for their needs while they are mourning with them. I have never ever understood this from the day I could differentiate my ears from my nose. People will just pack their bags from wherever they are and come to the house and expect a place to sleep, water to shower with and breakfast, lunch and supper everyday!! And the friends who come to offer prayers, some of them will not leave until they have received food, or biscuits and soda at the very least. If they do leave without receiving this, they will complain no end, and will probably not be coming back the next day for prayer. And then there's the relatives, who are a much bigger cost centre. Because they require a place to sleep, food everyday (good food, otherwise you'll be the butt of every joke for your frugality) and everything else that comes with being part of the family. If you're lucky, they'll contribute towards all of these things by buying food and actually being useful around the house. And those who come to offer prayers will leave money in the offering plate. But from what I've seen this is seldom the case, and you'll be lucky to see more that R20 in the offering plate (yes, I look).

Then there's the day of the funeral, where the family will again be expected to provide food for all who come to attend. On the surface, there's also nothing wrong here. Its quite normal to slaughter a cow or sheep for a funeral, has been happening since forever. But these days this has taken an ugly turn itself. Simple cow meat is no longer adequate. People want three course meals for funerals. They want to be entertained by singers. They want to sit and eat using the very best materials. And most families feel obliged to provide all of these things, AT THEIR OWN COST!! And this will go on until a few days after the funeral. The relatives will stay a bit longer, and the friends will keep on coming to offer prayers. And the lucky family will keep feeding them. At their own cost.

I have talked to many people about this and surprisingly, many support these practices. People just do not mind going through these costs, if it means they will "stage" a funeral which people will talk about for days. That's why you see people hiring cameramen to film the funeral. Even if it means going into debt to reach this end. Some see it as honouring the deceased. But how is the deceased honoured if the family is left in debt because of him? How is the deceased honoured if his children can no longer get what they need because all the money he was saving for them went towards entertaining mourners? Of course, if you can afford all of this comfortably go right ahead, but where is the sense in loading yourself with even more trouble, when the death should be trouble enough? Maybe I'm too modernised to understand the antics of our elders. I just think that we, black people, need to change the way we think on so many levels if we want to enjoy the freedoms that this country offers. And funeral practices is just one way of looking at this.

I rest,
Mzwa

Confused Preachers

Make the Circle BEEGA

Drama at the Robot

It’s depressing, really. A tragic state of affairs. Racism is still alive in this country. Or at least in Cape Town it is, as far as I can tell. No, I’m not talking about white-on-black racism. Or black-on-white racism. Or even black-on-black racism. No, this is way more sinister. This is beggar-on-black racism and hawker-on-black racism.

And it is not that hard to see. You just gotta be black to see it. All you need to do is just drive to the nearest intersection with a traffic light anywhere in the Mother City. There is a very good chance that there will be more than a few individuals who use the traffic light to make a living. Some will be selling small items of art, some will be selling fruit and veggies, some will be selling flowers and just about anything else you can sell at a traffic light. Others will be selling The Big Issue, which is a magazine sold by homeless people (I’ve bought a few copies, it’s not bad). Others will be offering you Jokes for Change (funny money). And others will just be asking for money (Tchooning you straight, bra).

Now, there’s nothing wrong with the way they choose to make a living. And I totally support what they do, especially the Big Issue peddlers and the art traders. Some of their items are very creative, and I have a few in my room. But that’s where the problem comes in, actually supporting these guys. You see, it seems they have a phobia for black man in cars. An apparent mistrust for chocolate-covered skin. And for the life of me, I cannot figure out why. There have been so many times that I’ve been stuck in traffic and I see this guy walking from car to car displaying his wares. Being bored, stuck in traffic and this being month-end, I decide that I’d like to see whatever he’s offering, and he looks like a nice chap, and it being 31 degrees in the shade today, I wouldn’t mind supporting the oke. So I get my wallet ready as he nears my car. And then, just as I open my window and smile, the guy just passes me for the car behind me. And I noticed very well that he went to each and every one of the cars in front of me. But he just sommer skips me for the guy behind me without glancing twice. WHAT THE HECK!!

Then I notice something else. Of all the cars at this intersection at the moment, mine is one of only 3 driven by darkies. And, as I continue observing, I see that the other black dudes are also deprived the opportunity to part with their hard-earned 20 bucks. This is so not on. And since this is not illegal, there’s really no way for a concerned young man to get to the bottom of this. Why can’t I buy a model of the Moses Mabhida stadium made from coke cans and cardboard if I want to? Why am I not allowed to read funny money? Why do I need to wave a green note in the air before you pay me more attention? Is it because black brothers have a history of being stingy? Do black brothers perhaps have counterfeit money? Does this really qualify as racism? Does it matter that, more often than not, the guy at the traffic light is a foreigner? Although the Xhosa and Coloured guys will treat you the same way; funnily enough, white beggars don’t seem to discriminate that much, just my observation.

Most people will find nothing wrong with their behavior, but personally it sort of irritates me. It’s like people look down on my ability/willingness to support entrepreneurs based on my chocolate-reminiscent melanin-rich covering. And I wonder if this is only prevalent in Cape Town. And I wonder if apparent BEE types get the same treatment.

Sigh, the struggle of the black man doesn’t end.

I rest,
Mzwa

Sweety Lavo

They don't make music like this anymore