Refound belief: Donovan E Williams at his Confirmation at the Mater Dolorosa Catholic Church in Johannesburg at the age of 50. Photo: Velile Mhlungu
My values and principles were initially cultivated by the Catholic Church.
Jesus’ honesty in representing the poor and downtrodden resonated with me. His teachings allowed me to understand that, for my life to mean something, I had to place the needs of those less fortunate than me above my own.
Jesus’ life and teachings gave me hope that mine could mean more than my station in society allowed.
As my civic and political activism increased, I found the church less committed to the ideals, values and principles it had entrenched in me. I couldn’t find the liberation theology I had read about. Indeed, I found the church’s response to the machinations of the apartheid regime lukewarm, to say the least.
As my rebelliousness grew, I found very little joy and inspiration in my Sunday churchgoing. Therefore, when I was a teenager and I was supposed to take my Confirmation of Faith vows, I consciously and deliberately decided against it. By that stage I wasn’t a regular churchgoer. I honestly knew that I couldn’t lie and confirm my faith. It stayed like that for nearly four decades.
But in and around 2021, things changed when I developed an overwhelming longing to remain connected to my father and began visiting my Dad’s grave at the Stellawood Cemetery in Durban.
I was only four years old when my Dad died in February 1976. But I could recall the funeral and the grave site vividly. Those images of my mom and other family members crying at my grandparents’ house and the graveyard were etched in my brain.
So, although I needed Google Maps to find Stellawood Cemetery, I needed no assistance to locate his grave — it was on a slope in the vicinity of a tree near the entrance.
When I visited the grave after so many years, I was not sure what to do, so I recited the prayers I knew, the Our Father, the Hail Mary and Glory Be To the Father.
I apologised for not visiting his grave and promised I would visit him every time I was in Durban. I confided in him about my life, introduced him to my kids, spoke with him about how my mom, brother and sister were doing and tried to get him up to date with all the happenings.
This journey to rebuild a relationship with my Dad put me on a path of sincere and truthful introspection. I have always tried to be as truthful with myself as possible.
I had been claiming for years to be agnostic — that I didn’t believe in organised religion — as a way to avoid admitting I am not an atheist but a believer. I looked at myself in 2022 and admitted that whenever I feel vulnerable and lonely, or scared, I reach out to God for help. I had to admit I had faith and I believed.
Years ago, Chris Hani, our liberation hero, was an inspiration to me. He was an altar boy, like I used to be, and the church played a big role in his activism, as it did mine. Hani in many ways kept the Catholic Church alive in me. So with the truthful introspection catalysed by me visiting my Dad’s grave and the inspiration of Hani, I started to go to church every Sunday. I did that for close to three months.
I also began to pray more regularly. Once I could confidently claim that praying and going to church were not big occasions in my life, but normal, I approached the church and asked if I could be confirmed.
I started confirmation classes, and attended religiously (excuse the pun). After a month and a couple of weeks, I then went and had my first confession after close to 35 years. And then partook in Communion.
The patron saint I chose for my Confirmation vows was Saint Martin de Porres. He is the patron saint of social justice, racial harmony and mixed-race people.
Born of a liaison between a Spanish grandee and a free black woman, and later abandoned by his father, De Porres was brought up in poverty and bore the stigmas of both his illegitimate birth and mixed race.
Ironically, the Catholic Church in Gelvandale, less than 5km from Malabar, where I grew up, was named after St Martin de Porres. If only I had known this when I was growing up, I could have taken inspiration from it.
On 18 November 2022, at the age of 50, I made my vow of Confirmation of Faith at the Mater Dolorosa Catholic Church in Johannesburg. I did it, safe in the knowledge my faith may not be intact but it is strong. And I won’t relinquish it.