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Debilitated by shameful visions of promiscuity, witchcraft and a mysterious virus, few ministers have the strength and courage to communicate directly about HIV/AIDS. Instead, at funerals, pastors
and congregations find indirect ways to deal with grief. By singing psalms about the resurrection, by dancing, and by clapping
hands, communities can express fear, sadness and confusion without acknowledging its cause. These communal rituals offer Christian congregations a sense of togetherness and inspire much-needed hope.
Zulu funeral practices have a similar potential to inspire. In many townships, women form savings organizations, called burial societies, which aid in organizing and funding Zulu funerals. Each member of the burial society pays a small monthly amount to form a fund. Whenever a member has a death in her family, the society disperses funds to help with the funeral. Before AIDS became endemic, these societies also aided the bereaved family by bringing food, helping with cleansing rituals and receiving visitors. Sadly, the spread of AIDS and the accompanying barriers of secrecy and witchcraft accusations have impeded these forms of communal support. Because Zulus believe that witches can transmit curses through poisoned food, a member of a burial society who brings food to a bereaved family risks being accused of witchcraft. In areas where the diverse functions of burial societies endure, however,
they play an invaluable consolatory role.
The churches of South Africa have a responsibility to care for the spirits of their congregants, and they must find their own way to end the painful silence surrounding
AIDS. Churches must address the virus directly by creating
an active and liberating theology of AIDS as an alternative to condemning the sick. When ministers from African indigenous
churches and mainline churches network and share their spiritual resources, they can mix traditional Zulu rituals and beliefs with Christian theology in a way that offers consolation and strength. The power of an ancestor, even a young man or woman who has died of AIDS, lends safety and protection to the family left behind. Likewise, the sacraments must be used to explicitly assure people that, even in a time of so much death, there is life.
More broadly, ministers of all denominations and traditions
must collaborate with health professionals in support of the emerging effort to make life-extending antiretroviral drugs available to all HIV-positive South Africans, not just a few wealthy whites. The medical campaign for antiretrovirals will have to confront the same barriers to communication and consolation
that ministers and their congregations face every day. Doctors and health administrators, many of whom are white or Indian in KwaZulu-Natal, badly need the expertise of these ministers. If medical professionals do not learn to negotiate cultural barriers, the expanding availability of antitretrovirals
will never touch the great majority of HIV-positive South Africans. Only when victims and their families explicitly acknowledge
the reality of AIDS will patients be able to receive the medical care that they need. In collaboration, ministers and doctors can present a practical theology of healing and a powerful incentive for their congregants and patients to break the silence surrounding AIDS.
Thomas Cannell is a former Editor-in-Chief of P.H. He is a senior History of Science, History of Medicine major at Yale University.
Norman Mudau is a Lutheran minister outside Pietermaritzburg and a Master’s candidate in Theology at the School of Religion and Theology, University of KwaZulu-Natal.
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Vol. 3 No. 2 Specials |
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Penile Politics and Religion in an HIV-wary India |
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AIDS Funerals in South Africa |
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Rick Warren’s Purpose-Driven Plan |
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An Interview from New Orleans
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Inside South Asia’s Fiercest Slum |
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The Struggle with Modernity |
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A Review of Jeffrey Sachs’
The End of Poverty |
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This virus is of a far different breed. |
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