my contemplations

In our denomination we have a week of services around Pentecost. Every evening we get together, and usually there is a theme running through, so this gives pastors some room to run through something in a short space of time. Also, it’s quite common to get someone from another congregation to preach for the week. We had ours this week, a week late, to accommodate the guy we got to preach for the week.

Every second Thursday we have a youth night. Nothing fancy, nothing grand, just a place where youth between 13 and 16 get together, sometimes play games, sometimes read Bible, sometimes watch a video, socialize and where I can build relationships with them.

When this clashed with our Pentecost service this week I decided to arrange that the youth join the service. Did I think that they would find this the most amazing thing ever to happen at church? No. I actually knew that they wouldn’t really like attending church. But if we do things parallel, then I’m actually saying to them that church is for old people, and not really for you. Something which is the exact opposite of what we would say in our congregation.

So we entered the service. About 15 of 20 kids, into a church with another 80 people or so. First we sang some hymns, and in great discomfort we sat there, kind of mumbling together, I tried singing, tried saying to them: “this is OK, you can sing”. Then a looong sermon started, about how we neglected our pneumatology and should make more of the holy spirit in the Reformed tradition, or something like that. First three girls walked out, then another two guys.

I’ve been using the reviewing methods of Roger Greenaway for a number of years now. In reviewing we would say that a bad experience become a positive learning experience when reviewed well. So I decided to scrap the program for the rest of the evening, and review the church service. What came out was the usual, discomfort in church, church being for old people (although they did say they are very positive about our informal service on a Sunday morning). Looking at something like Four Views on Youth Minstry, which I’ve read a number of years ago, they would actually go for something like a “church-within-a-church” model. Where youth go to a separate ministry, and at some point move over to the “real church”.

But sitting in that service on Thursday, noticing their discomfort, I suddenly realised that these people are our conscience. They are the conscience of the church. If we take them out, we can just continue playing a number of songs on the organ, while no one really experience anything, or like singing when it feels like your singing alone. We can keep on with long sermons that only a few insiders can understand. We can just continue doing church the way we do church, because everyone that is sitting their is trained that “this is how things are supposed to be”. But when our young people start attending in their masses, we need to ask the question: “Why are we doing this?”.

Because they do not know our church conventions that well, they won’t do things just because this is how it’s supposed to be done, they ask stupid questions which the rest of us know we are not supposed to ask. Malan Nelthought me this valuable truth in my first year, saying that: “When we take the kids out of the church, the rest of the church is losing out, not the kids”. I wonder what the preacher thought when the kids started walking out of his sermon? Did they address his conscience, or only madden him? What about the rest of the congregation?

I do think this is the more difficult approach to youth ministry. Because now the whole church need to start thinking youth, the “family” need to start thinking “teenager”, instead of just getting the “baby sitter youth worker” to keep their kids happy. But we need this. If you lose our kids out of the church, the church will lose.

It’s been years now since we started talking about Zimbabwe. I remember hearing the stories of farmers being forced from their farms, even of farmers being killed. I still think it was a crime, and I still think it was quite stupid and didn’t help the country at all. But life went on, the farmers lost their farms, they got new farms in Australië, or new jobs somewhere. Somehow, throughout all this, I still thought that much worse problems was going on in the world. But I think that might have changed:

The evening after first hearing about the ship full of weapons on it’s way to Zimbabwe, I told my flatmate that: “now, for the first time, I am really worried about Zimbabwe”. At that point I started thinking about Rwanda, Uganda, and the other worst case stories of Africa. Could it be? Is this really where Zimbabwe is heading?

Yesterday I’ve been hearing some of the stories about the current situation in Zimbabwe. The personal accounts stand out more than the news. One pastor told about people he know very well who actually are still farming in Zimbabwe. ZANU-PF (Robert Mugabe’s party) are doing “voters education” on the farms. So they had to leave and go stay in town, so that ZANU-PF could “educate” the workers. This education involved the chopping of of fingers, of hands, the cutting of of lips…

Arthur sent me a mail yesterday with an article written by a friend of his who was there, the photo’s ain’t nice…

The things which happened over the past years in Zimbabwe was bad. It was really bad. But when we all thought that Zimbabwe has hit rock-bottom. When we thought that now the people would throw out Mugabe and start something new, it got worse! We assumed that Morgan Tsvangirai will win the election. A friend who is onto economy and things like that said a few weeks ago that within 5 years a lot could again be back on track in Zimbabwe… that idea has changed.

What do we do? What should the church do?

Our denomination has started a project to help feed Zimbabwe. We made an arrangement with Makro to pack crates of food which is then sent to Zimbabwe and can be picked up be church leaders there to help the people of Zimbabwe. Currently a crate cost R15000 (approximately $2000). This certainly is needed, and even if political problems stop today, would still be needed for quite some time. Anyone interested in contributing to this could mail Dr Gustav Claasen.

I think the church have a mayor role to play in forming people thoughts on this. We need to talk politics in church! We can no longer turn our heads away. How about using Hotel Rwanda, Last King of Scotland or The Interpreter and discussing the Zimbabwean situation along with them. After first seeing The Interpreter I remember thinking that this is telling the story of Zimbabwe (that was some years ago). Today I fear that Last King of Scotland, or worse still, even Hotel Rwanda might be telling the story of what is approaching in Zimbabwe! For more information on Zimbabwe you could also visit this site posting updates on the Zimbabwe Situation, or this blog from a Civic Action Group keeping you up to date on the situation in Zimbabwe.

But what next? Is it maybe time for the church to start saying out loud that the world powers should play a much stronger role in Zimbabwe? Could it be time that the United Nations step in in Zimbabwe? Should the large church organization, the World Council of Churches and the Roman Catholic Church not say very loud that “enough is enough!“? What about other faith or philosophical traditions, almost all of these would agree that what is going in is deeply unethical. I’m not a politician, and surely don’t understand everything. But I do know a little bit about ethics, and I know that the right to self-government should be respected, and that Zimbabweans should have the opportunity to govern themselves, and do things in their way, which might differ from developed countries. But I also know that the right to life had priority over the right to self-government. And when this right is taken from the people of Zimbabwe, how long can the world take part in active non-participation?

If your not taking part in this months bloggers unite yet, I urge you to join in. On Wednesday bloggers all over the world would be joining hands to blog about human rights. And when blogging about human rights, remember Zimbabwe.

Let us be a voice for the voiceless…

As the call to papers for the synchroblog about “Emerging heresy” came out, I was having a conversation with Deborah on my Beowulf post. Early on in the conversation Deborah said:

Be wary of the Emerging Christian doctrine that you mentioned in your post. It’s as false as the liberal propaganda that comes out of Hollywood. I would advise always, always to measure what you read or view in this world against the pure doctrine of God’s holy word.

I still haven’t found exactly what she has refered to, but maybe it was another post, since I didn’t refer to anything “emerging” in the post. The conversation went on for pages and pages, and I guess I knew from the start that the chances was very unlikely that we would find some common ground, but as I explained previously, I still consider fundamentalism as an ecumenical challenge, so I continued the conversation. May I just mention that Deborah do not consider herself to be a fundamentalist, her reaction to my mention of the word was:

Now, let’s get to the bias you think me to have. Am I evangelical? No. Am I a fundamentalist? No. Now, again, that could depend upon your definitions, but according to my definitions, the answer is “No.” As far as being a fundamentalist, I think of Islamic terrorists as fundamentalists. So, no, I’m not a fundamentalist. Evangelical? In what sense? Do I go out and evangelize? No. Do I believe in preaching the Gospel? Yes, for that was Christ’s Great Commission (Mar 15:16). But that makes me doctrinal, not evangelical.

I don’t think the conversation was a success, maybe I should even be ashamed of the things I’ve said. But I do have some thoughts on how conversations may continue. I’ve had some friends who are very comfortable with the evangelicals, and we had loads of very constructive conversations, and others that we couldn’t even get through a cup of coffee. So, if you have some emerging friends you think might be heretics (whatever that may mean, give your interpretation to this word), but still want to be “conversing with the heretics”, here are my thoughts:

• If your heretic friend consider him/herself to be a Christians, try to consider them as Christians
• Remember that both of you have biases, and that you can maybe help each other notice them
• Try focusing on social justice, you might find you both want to help the poor and suffering, although you differ on some theological stuff
• Remember that you may be wrong, both of you, remember that just maybe you are wrong! I guess this is the most difficult part. I’ve written some more on this here.

Just one of these can sometimes provide an entry point for some good conversations, without the need to give up dearly held beliefs. Oh, and by the way, don’t ever mention that you have a direct link with God which mean that you are definitely right, no matter what anyone says. This tends to kill a conversation, because you can’t really fight with God.

Well, maybe I’m too demanding. But I am serious to keep the conversation going. If you think I should back down on some points, tell me, if you think I should add some, also leave a comment. And maybe you have some things which you think your heretic friends should also keep in mind when the attempt at conversation is made, please make a mention of those as well.

Well, you can read the conversation between myself and Deborah here, and you’re welcome to give some pointers where you think the conversation could have been done better (especially if I should have done thing differently). But I must say, it’s gonna be a loooong read if you do read this.

Well, that’s my thoughts for the day, also read these other fine sychrobloggers!

Aratus - The Gender of the Creator and Face forward
Cobusvw - Conversing with the heretics
Liquid Light - Coming out a heretic emerges
Nic Paton - The Lif Cycle of Heresy and The Blessings of Heresy
Roger Saner Towards a heretical orthodoxy
Ryan Peters - title not cited yet
Steve Hayes no title cited yet
Tim Victor - Confessions of a heretic

I recieved this link from my flatmate yesterday. He obviously know what stirrs my passion! I discovered the works of Kim Stanley Robinson at about age 16, while searching through the library shelfs for anything that remotely resembled science fiction (at that stage I was actually reading Arthur C Clark). Today I’ll sometimes jokingly refer to the Mars Trilogy as my “second Bible”, because of the major influence these books have had on my thinking.

In the Mars Trilogy Robinson create a Martian society which provide a sharp critique on human society. Or actually, it is the underground society on Mars which provide the alternative for how human societies work. It was especially on economy that Robinson influenced me, but also culture, and how our cultures might develop in the future.

The Mars Society website is down right now, so I can’t check it up, but Handré, my flatmate, said that Robinson was one of the directors or something of the Mars Society. What I like about the Mars Society, and maybe it was the influence of Robinson on them as well, is that they are talking much more than technology. They are already discussion what the world order on this new world might look like. How the economy, politics, civilation and culture might work itself out when Mars gets settled

Sunday’s is market day in Hatfield. I usually go look through the second hand books, but also just because I like the atmosphere. It’s not a large flee market, since it’s situated on Hatfield Plaza’s upper parking, which is quite small. I haven’t been there in quite a while though. I guess I’m not used to the amount op beggers to be found in Hatfield, but they really seem to have become more since I was there last. Actually, all over the city beggers seem to be becoming more, especially white beggers.

So I walked into the first begger, he wanted R7,50 for the train. I didn’t believe his story, it was the classic one that he’s wife got a baby and is in a hospital somewhere (at least he didn’t try and convince me that he have to buy a blanket or else the hospital won’t let him take his child). But he was telling the truth or was at lying, most probably the latter. I have a bad habbit of remembering faces, which have caused many a begger some discomfort when they try and convince me that they are not another regular, and I remember them from 6 months ago or something. But this guy I couldn’t recall, so I gave him the benifit of the doubt, and gave him the money. Maryke later told me that she know him, but she doesn’t like to take part in my conversations with the beggers, so she didn’t say anything.

Next up, I walked into Johan. This one I remembered, I found him about 6 months ago in front of the Transvaal museum, opposite Church plain. Johan lives in a flat somewhere in the inner city with his wife and child, and he asks for food or money, and hand out very small hand-written cards with Christian messages on them. He attempts some humor sometimes, jokingly giving us the card, and then saying that it will be R100 per person, then laughing, asking if we would buy him bread and milk. The department store was closed by this time, so I gave him money for bread and milk.

Why do I even do this? Everyone will tell you that you never give money to beggers. This only make them dependent. And I guess this is true. But the reality is that there are really people that do not have food to eat, and there really isn’t enough jobs in South Africa. So the nice Pauline verse which people like to throw around (out of context, when writing this Paul is addressing those who expect the coming of Christ to be immanent, and therefore have stopped working) that those who doesn’t work shouldn’t eat isn’t that easlity appilicable to our context. I guess part of why I give is because I don’t know where to send them to get a job.

This struck me a few years ago when I was talking to a begger that said he isn’t able to find a job. And then suddenly I realised that is this guy was asking me for a job I wouldn’t have given him a job, because he doesn’t look like someone that will do a good job. Some would say I’m just doing this to make myself feel better; maybe I am, but too many who are saying this generally don’t do something other than blame those who give money for not doing enough.

There are some people who do amazing work with the poor, maybe I should rather give money to them? Maybe I should give it to the church? But then, although the church is doing good work, and I’m not the one saying that everybody should stop giving money to the church, only a little of what I give to the church will go to the poor. If I give to the church, I must know that this will probably go into other important word, but not into helping the poor. Maybe I should start a business that help with the unemployment problem… I guess this is a really great idea, but struggle to see how I will be starting a business.

OK, so how do I help? Looking back, I think I was stupid to give money to the guy wanting to take the train. I think he lied to me. I would rather have given Johan some food than money, but I guess it wasn’t his fault the shop was closed. Maybe we shouldn’t be handing out money, but I belief everyone has the right to eat, and I have no problem in giving food. But yes, the critique is correct, I’m not doing enough, I ought to be getting involved in a persons life, but this is much more difficult than many who haven’t tried it may think…

So, this is the reality of living in South Africa. When in South Africa it’s kind of obvious what I’m called to do as a Christian, because suffering is in my face day after day, and I know I called to help those who suffer. How I’m supposed to do this is an extremely difficult question.

Graeme Codringtonposted a nice summary on MBTI (Meyers-Briggs) and spiritual development (part1, part2). I have a kind of love-hate relationship with personality tests, I love them, because they can help give greater self-understanding and self-acceptance. Knowing who you are, and that it is normal, and different from some others, so that you don’t attempt to make yourself someone you are not. I hate them when people try to change who they are because some test have said that they are supposed to be different from they natural way they express themselves, but any good psychologist will tell you that this is not the idea.

According to MBTI I am an ENTP. And the descriptions I’ve seen of this, is shockingly accurate! I’ve read some stuff on creativity, and yip, ENTP was me, and on personality profiles, ENTP was who I am. I once tested INTP (after I once broke up with Maryke), and all my friends who read the description knew that something must be seriously wrong. I was mentored by a guy who is busy with his Doctorate, working on MBTI profiles in the liturgy; he really helped me understand these kind of stuff better.

So, according to Graeme, this is what I ENTP will look like with regards to spiritual disciplines:

Creative, resourceful, and intellectually quick. Good at a broad range of things. Enjoy debating issues, and may be into “one-up-manship”. They get very excited about new ideas and projects, but may neglect the more routine aspects of life. Generally outspoken and assertive. They enjoy people and are stimulating company. Excellent ability to understand concepts and apply logic to find solutions.

Study, Service, Celebration

• You need freedom from structures – disciplines are least helpful for you.
• Prayer is much more of your whole day than a specific event.
• Dream big dreams for God – you can change the world, if you try something really huge for God!
• You might want to try liturgies and written prayers that you read, but be careful of an overly “religious” life.
• Have spiritual conversations with others.
• Try serving other people.

Yes, and this is me. I remember the feelings of guilt in my 2nd year of university because I simply couldn’t get a structured prayer life together. Until I realised that prayer is part of my whole day, and I simply can’t seem to sit still for a “prayer-hour” or something similar. Maybe I should try serving though…

What’s your MBTI profile? Does the description Graeme gave fit you? Can you learn something about spiritual disciplines from them?

Most of my city friends will see my hometown, Piet Retief, as a small town. They think it small that I grew up in a town with basically one primary school, and one highschool (of course, this is a lot more complex because of the Apartheid destinction between the town and the township). Usually I see this as small myself, after 6 years in Pretoria.

But for the first 10 years of my live I grew up in an area which was really rural, in the town Nhlangano in the southers part of Swaziland. And the percentage of Afrikaner people in around the area is especially small. On Sunday I had the opportunity to preach in the small church in which I grew up. 14 people attended (excluding my family). No, not because they heard who was preaching, this is hoe attendance generally look. We stand outside and talk up to about 9:00, and then someone would say that they think everyone who is coming is here, and we will go in.

The debate is not between organ and band, since they use no instruments, I had to start singing, and then the rest will follow, but I must say this: these people really sing! The service was short, since we only sang two songs, I didn’t so a full liturgy, and I generally preach short. Afterwards they have coffee and tea, with LOTS of cake and stuff.

I must add this. The 14 people attending have all been members of the congregation when we moved away 14 years ago, except for the new kids that was born and the those that got marries into the community, one or two woman, but I just met the one. No one gets allowed into the community, you have to be born or married into the community to be a part.

Parts of what I’ve seen looks very romantic: the informal setting, everyone knowing everyone else, everyone staying behind for tea even though there is no Sunday school keeping them there. Parts of this would probably be part of how some people would see the ideal church, sometimes I would include myself with these “some people”. The little church is also a warning. Because they are so part of each other, that they don’t make room for those on the outside, that they don’t welcome the stranger. This is also a warning for the emerging conversation (see this comment on a previous post on someone’s experience of Solomon’s Porch).