C. Austin Chawner and the Portuguese Work
Profile by Dr CUTHBERT CHIDOORI
My First General Conference of the Assemblies of God
The Congress on Mission and Evangelism held in Durban
W F P Burton and some Congo Missionaries
Nicholas
Bekinkosi Hepworth Bhengu
– His Youthful Dreams
– His Preaching
- Bhengu and Education
- Bhengu and Money
- Miraculous Experiences
- Spiritual Happenings
- The Sanctifying Spirit of God
– His Departure
Bhengu’s “Isinthunzi”
- Government and Politics
– Some Faults, Virtues and the Burden
of His Heart
President Lucas Mangope of Bophuthatswana
William
Frederick Mullan
The Fairview Assembly
Fred Mullan and the Gifts of the Spirit
A Miracle and a Vision
The Revival in Norwood
James E Mullan
Paul O Lange
William Branham in Durban
Oral Roberts in South Africa
Billy
Graham in Salisbury and Durban
The American Missionaries from Springfield, Missouri
C. Austin Chawner and the Portuguese Work
August Kast and the Mount Tabor Mission Station
Colin
La Foy and the Coloured Leadership
The Work in Zimbabwe
Mauritius and Reunion Island
Special
Answers to Prayer – 1
Special
Answers to Prayer – 2
A Beautiful Square with Good Vibes
Prayer and the Hippie Revival
The Young Turks
Tensions within the Group
The Split
of 1981 – Part One
The Split
of 1981 – Part Two
The Beginnings of the Faith Movement in South Africa
The Statement of September 1989
The Charismatic Renewal
The Start of the Pentecostal Revival World Wide and The Swedish Pentecostal Assemblies
Epilogue
APPENDIX 1 : How to be Filled with the Holy Spirit
APPENDIX 2 : The National Church by Nicholas Bhengu
APPENDIX 3 : Article from the Argus 5/02/1981
APPENDIX 4 : Pointers to the future of the Assemblies of God in the New South Africa (10/06/94)
C. Austin Chawner whose sphere of influence radiated from Lourenco Marques (Maputo) in Mozambique. He was a likeable man, very courteous and kindly. No matter how insignificant the person might be conversing with him, he always wore an attentive smiling face, his whole being spelling out complete absorption with the conversation, murmuring softly all the while in reply to what was being said. Casting my mind back now, I can’t remember that he ever said anything significant in response, thus displaying a circumspection which might explain why everybody liked him and why he clashed with nobody.
C.
Austin Chawner
When first I attended conferences
he was General Secretary, a tireless scribe who wrote elaborate minutes
in a faultless copperplate hand. It
was said that in his youth his handwriting was deplorable, but he made
this deficiency a matter of prayer, so that his subsequent meticulous script
was indeed a triumph of grace.
He was always convivial. As the Assemblies of God grew more numerous, conferences
were held at Witbank on a small farm owned by an American missionary, Fred
Burke. A large marquee served as an auditorium and delegates slept where
they could, in tents, in huts or caravans, and even on stretchers erected
in the marquee at night. Meals were served in roughly built dining rooms.
Accommodation could be described as rough and ready and often freezing
cold, but fellowship was warm. As a raw young minister it was intriguing
to behold the horseplay on retiring at night after a rigorous day in conference.
I must say, Austin Chawner was a sight to behold. Being used to camping
in the Mozambican bush, he contrived to get the most warmth possible from
the meagre blankets he used. His routine on retiring reminded me of a dancing
crane waving its wings about. He would cast his blanket about him skilfully
until he was wrapped up in a warm cocoon. Then he’d shuffle to his
stretcher and snuggle down for the night.
There was one of his Canadian confreres (for Chawner was from the Pentecostal
Assemblies of Canada) Bob Peel, a gentle giant of 6ft 2in. If given the
slightest chance, he’d pounce on Austin Chawner, all trussed up in
blankets as he was, carrying him shouting about the marquee to the laughter
of all present. Chawner was bound and helpless after his good-night ritual.
~
Conventions held in Johannesburg had better arrangements, for we were farmed
out among members of the Fairview Assembly. We slept in beds. But fellowship
was equally cordial.
Once, after an Easter convention at Fairview, a few of us attended a meeting
in the Malvern Town Hall. Austin Chawner was the speaker. He was physically
a small man. Some thought he looked a trifle like Charlie Chaplin. How
well I recall him that night as he addressed us, earnestly with deep feeling.
I don’t remember what his subject was. But at a certain stage he
held up his right hand indicating a small, small man held between thumb
and finger as he said, “God is looking for someone willing to be
small enough for him to use”. It was a shaft that has lodged within
me forever. At the same time I knew I was listening to one who himself
had humbled himself and whom God could use.
His end was tragic. Holidaying in a flat near the beachfront in Durban,
he ventured out early one evening to get something from a tea-room. He
did not return. He was found in Gillespie Street lying dead, the victim
of a hit and run accident.
Thus we lost an assiduous secretary and a zealous missionary who founded
a thriving work in Mozambique. With Brother H. C. Phillips he started a
printing press that grew into the Emmanuel Press now at White River in
the Eastern Transvaal. He was a fluent linguist, being the master of several
languages. He seemed to have some special connection with Scandinavia.
It was he who in the early days set the pattern for our General Conferences.
As in Sweden, topics were debated on the open floor with anyone contributing
until a consensus became apparent. Yet no official ruling would be made
by the conference. Everyone was free to weigh up the discussion for himself
and act on what seemed to him the merit of the argument.
From Mozambique, Austin Chawner arranged for a Portuguese minister named
J. do Cerro Guerero, to pioneer an assembly at la Rochelle in Johannesburg.
Later at the request of James Mullan, he sent another Portuguese minister,
Brother Folgado to start an assembly in Salisbury (Harare).
Do Cerro built up a big congregation at la Rochelle in the south of Johannesburg.
That was at the time of political troubles in Mozambique. The Portuguese
population of Mozambique were excellent colonists, but never true citizens.
Being basically materialists, they lived in the country of their choice
but always kept their roots in Portugal, intending to retire there with
the small fortunes they had acquired in Africa. When upheavals came in
Mozambique, thousands of them fled to South Africa. Many were Christians
from the congregation Austin Chawner had pioneered in Lourenco Marques.
The majority of do Cerro’s people were these Christian immigrants.
Other Portuguese ministers followed in do Cerro’s wake, thus forming
a small group of Portuguese assemblies and ministers located in sundry
parts of the Witwatersrand. Do Cerro assumed a leading role among them
without providing over-much in the way of true leadership for them.
While this was happening on the Rand, Brother Folgado was busy forming
an assembly in Salisbury (Harare). Being myself in Salisbury at the time,
I had a close relationship with him, helping him as much as I could in
his assembly work. The Portuguese were for the main part excellent builders.
In 1960 the English Assembly in Salisbury launched a building program.
I found myself acting as Clerk of Works on this project, hiring the building
skills of Folgado’s Portuguese Assembly. I enjoyed the task greatly
and the church went up within a few months, a job well done. I got to know
the humour, the volatile temper and the fundamental good nature of the
Portuguese builders. It proved an education in cross-cultural relationships.
Folgado himself was a highly charismatic personality, a short but heavily
built man. His supreme delight in life was to organise others, including
me. He preened himself on his ability to speak English and he often used
to lecture me on what he perceived to be the richness of the Portuguese
tongue as compared with the paucity of English. But he had a phobia concerning
Communism. He dreaded the prospect of a Communistic take-over in Rhodesia.
His alarm at events in Central Africa sometimes seemed paranoid.
It was not surprising then, that in 1963 he moved from Salisbury to Pretoria.
I happened to be transferred to Pretoria in 1963 as well. Thus I became
engaged with Folgado more closely than ever. Again I had to build a church
for the English Assembly where I ministered in Pretoria. Again Folgado
proceeded to organise things for me, which helped me a lot, let me say.
He got me Portuguese builders, he arranged a contractor, and he even discovered
an architect for me. I did have great difficulty in restraining his zeal
when on frequent occasions he wanted to alter the architect’s plans
which he thought to be somewhat deficient.
The building turned out well. It was given an award for excellence by the
South African Society of Architects. This distinction baffled Folgado.
He commented, “It’s very stranger (sic) to me!” Folgado’s
language was often more memorable than precise. He used to call Rissik
Street in Pretoria “Risky Street”. He once explained why he
had taken a lady congregant to hospital: “He has a tereevel pain
in he’s teefs”. (“He has a terrible pain in his teeth”.)
~
Scarcely had I settled down in Pretoria after being transferred from Salisbury
than a most unusual event occurred. Folgado asked me to attend a discussion
he was about to have with a Dutch Reformed dominee, a certain Dr Dawie
de Villiers, chairman of the Evangelistic Committee of the NG Kerk in Pretoria.
The dominee had a proposal for him, for he had heard that Folgado intended
starting a Portuguese church in Pretoria. He looked at me with a smile
and said to Folgado, “Pastor Bond will fall off his chair with surprise
at what I am going to say to you! Why start a church for the Assemblies
of God, and struggle against odds? Rather join with us in the NG Kerk.
We will provide you with a church, a house, a car, a salary, and every
door in the land will be open to you, from the prime minister downwards!”
He seemed to expect a response from me. I said, “Well Doctor, that
is a most kind offer you have made; but there is a problem. Pastor Folgado
is Pentecostal. He speaks in tongues and expects his congregation to speak
in tongues.”
The dominee’s answer indeed did nearly knock me off my chair with
surprise. He shrugged and said with a smile, “That is no problem
at all!”
I responded, “But Doctor, there is another problem; both Pastor Folgado
and I believe that baptism has to be administered by adult believers being
totally immersed in water. We don’t baptise babies”.
This time Dr de Villiers did not smile. He looked concerned. “Yes”,
he said, “That is the problem!”
I was concerned too. Perhaps the offer would prove too tempting for Folgado
to resist! But, in his broken English, he launched into a lengthy speech
that made my heart glow with admiration and relief. He explained how, “In
Portugal I is a very richer (sic) man; I suffer for my faith, etc, etc”.
The long and short of it was Folgado’s principles were not for sale.
He refused the dominee’s offer.
Ironically he actually lost nothing by his refusal. Dr de Villiers became
a firm friend to him and to me. In the years that followed he helped the
Portuguese work in many ways by his considerable influence. Folgado was
blessed with a neat little church which he filled with people. Of course
he had a house too, and a car, but marvellously, every door in the land
did become open to him. I accompanied him once to an audience with the
Minister for the Interior, Senator de Klerk, father of our erstwhile State
President who released Nelson Mandela from prison. I often reflected that
Folgado’s very genuine horror for Communism doubtless helped his
credibility in the eyes of the Nationalist authorities, for Communism was
widely regarded as a serious threat to the South African State in the 1960s.
Yet Folgado’s credit did not extend to his own brethren in the network
of Portuguese Assemblies in Johannesburg. He would never submit to do Cerro’s
authority, vague as it was, and do Cerro seemed threatened by him. Their
relationship was not good.
Folgado eventually emigrated to America. Do Cerro continued in his church
at la Rochelle until he retired a few years ago.
A sociological process seems to have overtaken the church at la Rochelle.
From being crowded with people it has now dwindled to a couple of hundred
members, for the immigrants that made up do Cerro’s congregation
in its heyday were all Portuguese speakers who liked to worship in the
vernacular. But their children attended South African schools, becoming
proficient in English. They made English-speaking friends and English became
their home language. They dislike the vernacular Portuguese worship at
la Rochelle. They have drifted off into other pastures. The la Rochelle
congregation would do well to have English services to keep their second
generation Christians, if it is not already too late to do so.