The Lattice of Perspective

 The Lattice of Perspective

By Harold Mawela, from my study in Akasia, Pretoria

Scripture: "Beloved, do not believe every spirit, but test the spirits to see whether they are from God, for many false prophets have gone out into the world." (1 John 4:1)

Let me paint you a picture. The winter sun hangs low and brittle over Akasia this morning, thin as a tamboti branch, as I sit here with my rooibos tea steam curling like incense toward a sky that cannot decide between blue and grey. My neighbour, Mr. Van der Merwe, is at his gate again, scrolling through news on his phone. Just yesterday, the headlines announced that South Africa has now gone over 400 days without load-shedding a miracle many of us dared not pray for. And yet, in the same breath, the Absa Purchasing Managers' Index tells us manufacturing has slipped back into contractionary territory. The economy grew by 0.5% in the first quarter, we are told six consecutive quarters of growth but try telling that to the young man in Soshanguve who has been jobless for three years, or the factory worker in Germiston whose shift was cut again.

We live in a nation of dissonant headlines. A nation that holds its breath between promise and provision.

And in this tension, I see a great and terrible danger stalking the church of Jesus Christ in South Africa: the danger of a closed mind masquerading as faithfulness.

The Lattice: A Third Way

Let us define our terms clearly before we proceed. What do I mean by the "lattice of perspective"?

In the ancient Near East, homes had lattice windows—wooden grilles, intricately woven, set into the walls. They were not solid walls. They were not open gaps. They were both. They let in light and air while keeping out predators. They allowed you to see the world outside while protecting you from what might harm you. The wise man in Proverbs stood at his window and "looked through the lattice" to observe the foolishness in the street. He saw clearly because he saw through something structured, something that filtered without blinding.

Here is the spiritual law I want you to grasp today, as immutable as gravity but activated by faith:

A rigid wall of opinion shuts out light. An open gap of gullibility lets in predators. But a lattice of wisdom lets truth grow through while providing protection.

The closed mind says: "I have all the answers. No new information needed. My tradition, my pastor, my political party, my tribe they have spoken. Case closed." This mind is not a fortress; it is a prison. It mistakes repetition for righteousness and mistrust for holiness.

The open, undiscerning mind says: "Everything is true. Every spirit is from God. Every prophet speaks for heaven. Let us embrace all perspectives equally." This mind is not a garden; it is a field with no fence, where the goats eat the vegetables and the snakes nest in the tomatoes.

But the lattice min ah, this is the mind of Christ! It has strong vertical posts of Scripture, anchored deep in the bedrock of God's revelation. It has horizontal beams of experience, reason, and tradition, providing structure and support. And between them? Gaps. Spaces for new understanding. Openings for the Holy Spirit to weave fresh vines of truth through the framework, making it stronger, more beautiful, more alive.

The Betrayal That Wasn't

I need to confess something. For years, I assumed that spiritual maturity meant mental uniformity. I thought that if someone truly loved the Lord, they would see every issue exactly as I saw it. The urgency of the gospel? Surely everyone feels the fire in their bones like I do. The interpretation of Scripture? Surely the text is obvious to anyone with a sincere heart.

Then they acted differently. And I felt betrayed.

I remember a season in my own life years ago, when I was consulting in the private sector in Centurion. A colleague, a man I considered a brother, systematically undermined my credibility. He would wait until I left a meeting and then reinterpret my words to management. The tension was palpable. I felt the heat in Sandton, the cold shoulder in the corridors. I did what most of us do: I complained to God. "Lord, shut his mouth! Remove this obstacle!"

But God, in that still small voice that often speaks through the roar of our pain, said: "Harold, I am not removing him. I am using him. He is the waiter at the table I am preparing."

That was a difficult morsel to swallow. It challenged my theology. We often sing "What Satan meant for evil, God turns for good," but we rarely want to sit through the meal while the chef our enemy is still in the kitchen.

The Scripture declares unequivocally: Joseph understood this. He looked at his brothers—the ones who plotted to kill him, who sold him into slavery and said, "You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good" (Genesis 50:20). The brothers were the setup. The palace was the address.

Here is the paradox that will set you free: Your adversary is not your obstacle; he is your address. The intensity of the resistance you face is the clearest barometer of the weight of your assignment.

Testing the Spirits: A Logical Examination

Now, let us engage our minds rigorously, because the Scripture commands us to test—not to assume, not to ignore, not to embrace uncritically.

The argument can be formulated thus:

Premise One: God commands believers to test every spirit to determine whether it is from God (1 John 4:1).

Premise Two: The standard for testing is the confession of Jesus Christ as the Son of God who came in the flesh (1 John 4:2-3).

Premise Three: Many false prophets have gone out into the world, peddling spirits that do not confess Christ.

Conclusion: Therefore, discernment is not optional; it is an act of obedience. And discernment requires a lattice a framework that both receives and evaluates.

A common objection is: "But Harold, isn't testing the spirits judgmental? Doesn't the Bible say 'judge not, lest you be judged'?"

This objection fails because it confuses judging with discerning. Jesus did not say "discern not." He said, "Do not judge according to appearance, but judge with right judgment" (John 7:24). The Scripture does not command us to be naive; it commands us to be wise as serpents and innocent as doves (Matthew 10:16).

In an age saturated with sermons, prophecies, and spiritual utterances many of them broadcast from platforms in Sandton and streamed into smartphones in Khayelitsha discernment is not merely recommended; it is commanded. The Spirit of God will always confess Jesus as the Christ who has come in the flesh. Any spirit that diminishes Christ, that displaces Christ, that distracts from Christ that spirit is not from God, no matter how anointed the preacher appears, no matter how large the congregation, no matter how many miracles are claimed.

The African Context: Where the Lattice Matters Most

We are living in a season in South Africa where the noise is deafening. From the parliamentary debates in Cape Town to the taxi ranks in Marabastad, the spirit of accusation is rife.

Just last week, the South African Council of Churches met with President Ramaphosa, calling for human dignity and solidarity amid rising anti-migrant tensions. The Council has strongly condemned violence against foreign nationals, urging Christians to uphold the dignity of every human person and reject xenophobia. Archbishop Sipuka reminded us of the solidarity that other African countries showed South Africans during the struggle against apartheid.

And yet and here is where the lattice is tested cases of verbal abuse, intimidating graffiti on church walls, and threats of physical violence against foreign-led churches have been reported. Some of these churches are led by men and women who confess the same Jesus we confess. They worship the same God. They preach the same gospel.

But they are foreigners. And in the fever of nationalism, in the heat of economic anxiety, many South African Christians are closing their minds. They are building walls, not lattices. They are shutting out light.

The Scripture declares: "You shall not oppress a sojourner. You know the heart of a sojourner, for you were sojourners in the land of Egypt" (Exodus 23:9).

The lattice of perspective lets in the foreign brother. It sees Christ in the stranger. It tests the spirit yes, tests it rigorously but it tests with the goal of welcoming truth, not of excluding difference.

At the same time, we must sound the alarm against another danger: the syncretism that dilutes the gospel with cultural accommodation. The CRL Rights Commission has been locked in controversy over the regulation of the religious sector, with some arguing for accountability and others warning against state interference in doctrine. Survivors of church abuse have asked a hard question: "Where has the church's own accountability been all along?"

The lattice holds both truths together: Yes, we must protect the vulnerable and hold abusers accountable. And yes, we must guard against state overreach into the sacred space of worship. Both are true. Both must be held in tension. A wall cannot hold them both. Only a lattice can.

The Garden, Not the Fortress

Picture a world where every Christian mind is a lattice.

The vertical posts are the non-negotiables: the deity of Christ, the authority of Scripture, the reality of sin, the necessity of the cross, the hope of resurrection. These are load-bearing. They do not move.

But between them? Room. Gaps. Openings.

Room for the Holy Spirit to blow through like a Highveld wind. Room for the Pentecostal brother to worship with raising hands and the Reformed sister to worship with quiet reverence. Room for the Zulu believer and the Venda believer and the immigrant from Zimbabwe to find common ground in the blood of Jesus. Room for the economist to see God's provision in data and the prophet to see God's provision in dreams. Room for the young person with new questions and the elder with ancient answers.

The fence that encircles the village has gates for coming in and going out.

A closed mind is a fortress under siege. An open, discerning mind is a flourishing garden where the sunlight of God's truth dances.

I look out at my nation from this stoep in Akasia, and I see the garden struggling to grow. I see walls going up everywhere walls of party loyalty, walls of racial grievance, walls of economic fear, walls of theological tribalism. I see Christians who have stopped testing and started defending. I see Christians who have stopped discerning and started dismissing.

But I also see the vines of the Spirit, green and tenacious, pushing through the cracks. I see Gogo Mthembu's community kitchen in Soshanguve, feeding hungry children regardless of their tribe. I see the young worship leader in Tembisa writing songs that cross linguistic boundaries. I see the businessman in Sandton funding micro-enterprises in the townships. I see the lattice being woven, one thread at a time.

The Law of the Lattice

Let me state this as a spiritual law, clear and unshakeable:

Your perspective determines your protection. What you refuse to see, you cannot defend against. What you refuse to test, you will eventually be deceived by.

The enemy does not fear a closed mind it is already his prisoner. He does not fear an open, undiscerning mind it is already his playground. But he trembles at the lattice mind: the mind that is rooted in Scripture yet open to the Spirit, grounded in tradition yet receptive to fresh revelation, firm in conviction yet humble in posture.

This is the mind of Christ. This is the mind that will not be shaken by the storms of this nation—not by load-shedding, not by economic contraction, not by political chaos, not by cultural confusion.

My Testimony: The Lattice That Saved Me

Let me close with a personal story.

Just last week, I sat with a young man from Atteridgeville. He was angry righteously angry—about the injustice he saw in our land. The unemployment, the inequality, the corruption that bleeds our nation dry. He had joined a protest movement, and he wanted my blessing.

"Pastor," he said, "the church is too quiet. We need to burn things down. We need to fight fire with fire."

I looked at this young man this passionate, fiery, beautiful young man and I felt the weight of my responsibility.

I could have built a wall. I could have quoted Romans 13 and told him to submit to authority, case closed. I could have dismissed him as a radical and sent him away.

Or I could have opened a gap let his passion in, let his righteous anger in, let his valid questions in while holding firm to the vertical posts of Scripture.

I chose the lattice.

"Brother," I said, "your anger is holy. Your passion is from God. But your strategy is from the world. The world fights with fire and consumes. The Kingdom fights with fire and refines. The world tears down walls. The Kingdom builds lattices structures that let light in while keeping predators out."

We talked for three hours. We wrestled with Scripture. We prayed. And when he left, he was still angry but his anger had been latticed. It had been structured by truth. It had been given direction by the Spirit.

That is what the lattice does. It does not extinguish the fire; it channels it. It does not shut out the light; it lets it in. It does not silence the questions; it answers them with wisdom.

The Call

So I ask you, beloved: What is the state of your mind today?

Is it a wall rigid, defensive, shutting out the light? Have you mistaken rigidity for faithfulness? Have you confused suspicion with holiness?

Is it an open gap gullible, undiscerning, letting in every wind of doctrine? Have you mistaken tolerance for love? Have you confused open-mindedness with truth?

Or is it a lattice strong yet open, structured yet receptive, rooted yet growing? Are you testing the spirits, not to dismiss them, but to welcome the ones that are from God? Are you building your worldview with vertical posts of Scripture and horizontal beams of experience, leaving room for new understanding?

The Scripture commands us: "Test the spirits to see whether they are from God".

This is not a suggestion. It is not a recommendation for the especially spiritual. It is a command for every believer, in every age, in every nation—including this beautiful, broken, beloved South Africa of ours.

Prayer

Holy Spirit, weave fresh understanding through the lattice of my mind. Tear down the walls I have built in fear. Close the gaps I have left in gullibility. Make me like Jesus full of grace and truth, welcoming and discerning, open and unwavering.

Lord Jesus Christ, You are the chief cornerstone. In You, all the posts find their foundation. In You, all the beams find their alignment. Build in me a lattice that can hold the weight of Your glory and let in the light of Your truth.

God of our fathers of Abraham, of Isaac, of Jacob, of Mandela, of Tutu, of the nameless martyrs who died for the gospel on this soil anchor my mind in Your Word. Let me test everything. Let me hold fast to what is good.

And when the storms come and they will come let my lattice stand.

In the mighty name of Jesus Christ, my Lord and my God.

Amen.

Harold Mawela is a pastor, author, and speaker from Akasia, Pretoria. He is the lead pastor at Impartation Church and the author of "The Happy Lemon," "Knots of Problems," and other works. His blog is a daily source of inspiration for Christians seeking to deepen their faith and live a more fulfilling life.