South African sunlight played along thin metal artfully crafted into draadkars emblazoned with Audi, Ford and Mazda at the starting line of the inaugural Philipstown Wire Car Grand Prix on Oct. 2. Drivers nervously fiddled with last-minute adjustments. But this racing event was not organized to demonstrate speed, nor was it primarily about competition. This row of gleaming wire cars and excitedly bouncing drivers bore testimony to unprecedented cooperation in Philipstown, and brought together racial communities that rarely celebrate together.

The eight members of the Philipstown Community Health Evangelism (CHE) committee planned the wire car rally to start dismantling the 400-year-old walls between black, coloured and white people, and to begin laying a foundation that builds upon their common humanity. (Coloured in South African terms designates a person with ancestors from both Africa and Europe.)

The draadkar, a well-known toy on the African continent, is a wire car crafted from found items rejected as scraps. Running children provide the propulsion, maneuvering their cars via a long steering mechanism. At the Philipstown Grand Prix, the 16 cars sported performance-enhancing components, such as tomato paste cans, bottle caps, small oranges, and tennis balls.

As a police car escort moved into position to lead the way, yellow-shirted drivers stretched their muscles and strained to hear the starter, CHE member Amos Reed, give final instructions about the 1.8 kilometer route that would wind through black, coloured and white neighborhoods. At Reed’s command, the wirecar racers surged forward in pursuit of the police car.

Fanie Bauman’s car crossed the finish line first, arriving into a gala atmosphere of pulsing Christian music and heavenly aromas wafting up from grills.

“This event means something to the community,” said Bauman, a young man from the coloured community.

Andries Fourie, a white farmer and one of the rally organizers, agreed with Bauman’s assessment in less reserved terms.

“I can proudly say this is the first and only town in the world to have a wire car grand prix,” Fourie said.

Like many communities in South Africa, residents in the areas around Philipstown desire to move beyond the barriers created by apartheid laws. One of the ways they have chosen to work toward this is through the CHE program that Christine and Phil Lindell Detweiler of Mennonite Mission Network helped to introduce in 2008. CHE attempts to flesh out the good news of Jesus by living it out practically in the community.

Two people of color and six people from the white community work side-by-side on the CHE committee, determined to overcome fear with positive demonstrations of solidarity, and to begin the slow process of healing wounds of division.

“We are going to be together in heaven, so we should get used to it now,” said Ursela Malherbe, a white woman whose husband is the pastor of Body of Christ, a multiracial church in neighboring Petrusville.

Although the word painting of heaven in the seventh chapter of The Revelation of John describes all peoples singing around God’s throne, the blending of skin tones at Body of Christ is a dangerous act of faith that makes church members targets on a South African white secessionist organization’s hate list.

Most, if not all, of those involved in organizing the wire car rally committed to the long hours, hard work and risk because of their belief that all races are part of the one family of God. They hope that the Draadkar Grand Prix will become a yearly occasion for making Jesus known.

“We are getting all the [nearby] towns to pray together. We are repenting of our sins,” Malherbe said.

In addition to sharing God’s love and bringing the community together to have fun, Malherbe said that making the wire cars encouraged creativity and recycling.

Although only 16 participants showed up on race day, CHE organizers reminded each other that one of the biggest challenges to overcome is skepticism that communities can change. Everyone agreed that the day should be celebrated as a major success, that more kids would participate in the 2011 rally, and that transformation comes about through small increments.

“The Grand Prix is going to be an annual event,” said Kay Fourie, CHE committee member and wife of Andries. “The fight against poverty and social problems will not be won by a single rally. Programs are needed on a regular basis. We’ve got to get the message through: ‘We are spending time together because we love each other.’”

At the finish line, the now motionless wire cars still gleamed, having proved their road-worthiness—or not. Their drivers, in contrast, relaxed under trees and relived, with joyous animation, the rigors of the race, slaking their thirst with flavored ices and enjoying Rose Witbooi’s very fresh bread. Witbooi, who, along with Amos Reed, represents people of color on the CHE committee, began baking at two o’clock in the morning. She wanted to make sure that race participants would not be eating day-old bread.

“The rally kept the children occupied [for today], but we can do more,” Witbooi said when asked for her opinion of the day’s success.

Racers and spectators alike enjoyed braai (barbecue) and potjiekos (a stew prepared outdoors in a cast-iron, three-legged pot) made from donated lamb. Funding for the rally came from area businesses, farmers and individuals.

Phil Lindell Detweiler said observers from outside the community might be tempted to see the event as cute or picturesque.

“What happened was not cute, but a prophetic act. The wire car rally is nothing short of a sign of the kingdom of God breaking into Philipstown as more and more times of common work and celebration between different racial groups become the norm, rather than the exception,” Lindell Detweiler said.