BONA, derived from the Zulu greeting to a multitude of people, 'Sanibona' - directly translated as 'we see you' - forms the premise of this publication, by Tebo Mpanza
Dating has no playbook. Christian dating? That’s a whole other category. I remember telling my mate Jo that I liked this girl, Becky. The first thing he asked? "What team is she on?"
He wasn’t asking about a sports team. In the Christian dating world, that question meant—what team at church does she serve on? That was a metric. Not her character. Not her values. Not whether we were actually compatible. What team is she on? Because, unspoken, that meant: Is she serious about her faith? Is she planted? Is she serving? And back then, that mattered. Maybe too much. Let’s discuss that another day.
It was the shorthand for spiritual maturity. A low-key assessment of whether someone was ready—worthy—for a relationship. It shaped how people talked about dating in church circles. In some spaces, it was even preached from the pulpit: "I want to be with someone who loves the Lord so much that I have to chase Him to catch them." HAY! (Stands up. One clap.) We had markers. We had filters. Some of them were helpful. Others? Maybe not so much.
Fast-forward to today, and dating in Christian circles feels different. Now the kids are going on holiday together, and no one’s asking WAG1 deya (what’s going on there)?! But what team is she on? was never really about teams. Not directly, anyway. The real question behind it was accountability. Discipleship. Friendship. The true question was: Who is she surrounded by? Who speaks into her life? Who sharpens her? Who calls her out?
I don’t know if we ask those questions anymore. I don’t know if we pull each other aside and ask, "Hey, are you sure?" I don’t know if we say, "That guy? I don’t know… I don’t see it." Nobody wants to seem judgemental. Nobody wants to seem like they know better. The risk is too high. You challenge someone’s choices in 2025, and suddenly, you’re cut off. So we stay quiet. Or worse—when we disagree, we don’t even have the courage to say it. Instead, we make passive-aggressive comments, throw shade, drop hints. Perhaps it’s none of our business.
The real question is—and every husband knows this—it’s not what team is she on? It’s are we on the same team?
Because nine years into marriage this July, I can tell you this: my life doesn’t make sense without her. Bex sharpens me. She challenges me. She encourages me. She speaks life into my spirit. She teaches me through her character, her selflessness, her grit. I thought I was self-aware. Then I got married. I thought I was patient. Then I got married. I thought I communicated well. I soon found out otherwise.
Back to Christian dating in 2025. I said to one of my boys the other day, "I think I just secured you a date with this girl… How would you like to proceed?" Great girl. Solid character. Up for it. Man said: "Yeah, for sure! Down to grab a coffee… or something more… when I’m next in London! But don’t know when I’m next in London. So I think gonna have to put a pin in that one." A pin? The brothers are putting pins in dates now like it’s a dentist appointment.
It’s just different now. The boys are not jumping in the car immediately this Saturday and driving down for brunch. They’re not making arrangements. "If, when, but, I’ll see, maybe" is the vibe now. It’s different.
"What team is she on?" used to be the question. Maybe it still is in some ways. But these days, I’m using it to check myself. Am I still in the game? Am I showing up? Am I paying attention? Am I asking the right questions?"
