Getting the church's hands dirty

Yesterday was Mandela Day, Nelson Mandela's birthday and a day on which people are encouraged to spend 67minutes in the service of humanity. Me and my wife decided to pick up litter in our little town's main street. The morning at church I invited congregation members to join us. Ten guys showed up and we started cleaning a segment. We chatted and I got to know a few people that I didn't even know belonged to our congregation. It felt great looking back over the stretch we cleaned after 60 or so minutes! A scene that will stay with me forever is when we finished and everybody raised their hands in the air to show each other how dirty it is.

There is something about a group of twelve that gets their hands dirty in service of Christ and their community that excites me!

A Child shall lead them

A congregation here in Delmas collaborate with an American organization and the local community in our Township Botleng to built houses for poor people. When I visited the project the first time, kids popped up out of nowhere and started playing with my son. They gave him a cookie. The next time we visited, I bought a bag of lollies, gave it to Steph and told him to hand it out to his friends. My son experienced the joy of giving. He insisted on not even having one himself (and he love lollies!) so that he can give to more kids. After his generosity he played his heart out with them and I had to torn him away from his new friends when it was time to leave. Should we raise children or should we allow them to show us the way? Sometimes I wonder...

Diarrhea

Today I took my little one year old daughter to the doctor. Since Saturday she suffered from diarrhea, keeping her mom awake and refusing to eat. I bought some over the counter medicine but there weren't any improvement. While I sat waiting for the doctor in the waiting room, I picked up a Time magazine (August 17 2009). I opened it at an article about diarrhea in Africa that until recently killed 1,6 million children each year. By a happy twist of fate they found out that a daily supplement of zinc cures diarrhea quickly and effectively. Also, the Rota virus vacination will soon become the norm and that will save even more lives.

I read about how with great difficulty people ensure that zinc supplements are brought to remote villages. I on the other hand can go to specialized care, a phone call away. My daughter got the Rota virus vaccination without me even knowing it and therefore has the diarrhea very mildly. Had I been living in Mali, my daughter may very well have died of this disease. It's like every day I realise how privileged I am. There are people everywhere who has it really tough.

Tsidi's sad story

When we moved from Johannesburg to Bloemfontein four years ago a miracle walked into our lives. Isabel was far along and about to give birth to our first born. We were on the lookout for a domestic help with no luck. That is until an angel named Alina knocked on our door. From the first day we got along very well. We decided to pay Alina far above the minimum wage required in South Africa and helped her with what we could. Alina is a truly remarkable women. She once made the newspaper when she took in a homeless white family into her humble home for a few days.

Alina had a husband and a daughter called Tsidi. Tsidi were about five at the time and my son immediately developed a bond with her. So it came that Tsidi visited us often and one time even went along on a family vacation. We came to notice that Tsidi was quite eager to learn and smart, always asking questions and listening attentively to everything we say.

Then I took my current position in Delmas. We told Alina that we were about to move and thanked her for her faithful service. To this she simply replied that she refuse to work for somebody else and that she is willing to move with her husband and Tsidi to Delmas. Things worked out well. Our home had a sufficient servant quarter and Alina liked the place. By the time we moved here, Tsidi were grade 1. I made arrangements for her to be put in an Afrikaans Primary school. To our horror we learned that in the six months she was in her township school in Bloemfontein, she learned neither to read or write a word. Every evening my wife faithfully sat with Tsidi and tried to make up for lost time since her own mom and dad could barely read or write. It bore fruit. At the end of last year Tsidi finished as one of the top in her class and did her work and even read extra books in her spare time. We felt glad and excited about her future.

Then her mother aged 46 fell pregnant. We found this strange because while we were in Bloemfontein she developed problems and was put on a waiting list for a hysterectomy. Being pregnant at such an age put strain on Alina. Her work quality and attitude declined. She announced that she wanted to return to Bloemfontein and rest until the baby was to be born. We gave her her allowed four months maternity leave on which she still is. The baby was born and apparently healthy. Tsidi and her dad stayed behind in Delmas so that Tsidi could continue with her schooling.

For a while everything went well. Then Tsidi started to miss her mother which one can understand. All of a sudden, Alina demanded the child be brought back to Bloemfontein promptly. She barely finished the school term and was taken to Bloemfontein which we thought to be a good thing as long as she would return in time for the next school term. However to this day Tsidi still hasn't showed up. What's worse she hasn't been put in another school for two terms now. She was already to old for her year group and even if she returns now the school will not take her back in. A future wasted and there is nothing I can do about it. I want to cry when I think about it.

Funny moment with my son

Readers not able to understand Afrikaans won't share in this but yesterday when I dressed my little boy Steph age3, he was like a stubborn mule. I told him: "Jy is op dun ys mannetjie (you are on thin ice lad)" to which he replied: " Ek is nie 'n dun muismannetjie nie (I'm not a little thin 'mouseman!)". I am still laughing!

Soccer fever in Tembisa

I met a guy called Victor at a function. We are both involved in a initiative called beautiful people where we attempt to build friendship across racial and other lines of division. So it came to pass that Victor invited me to watch the Bafana vs France game at one of the Fan Parks in Tembisa. I was quite excited about the opportunity but at the same time a little bit apprehensive. I am a child of my time. I grew up with stories about how dangerous townships are and how much the people there hate whites and plot to kill them. I was therefore kind of grateful when Victor met me at the local police station.

We then drove to his home. Driving with so many taxi's all around you is quite stressful. I imagine it will feel much the same as driving in New York in rush hour. Apart form the taxi's there are a lot of people and some dogs on the street one should also look out for. Victor took us to his room, a small sink shack in the backyard of his parents home. Maybe it was because Victor knew we would visit but I was immediately struck by how clean and neat this room is. On the one side there was a book rack with books on many different subjects. Victor is a third year student at UNISA, a local university. On the other side of the room stood his desk. Pinned on a notice board in front of the desk are a variety of poems Victor has written. One poem that stood out was "Choice" It starts be telling what things in life we have no choice over, things like your upbringing and background and then goes on to make an important statement that every person can take responsibility for the many choices he or she are able to make. What make this poem special is that Victor's life is a living testament of the truth this poem expresses. While sitting there I reminded myself how just a few hours before I complained how cold our home is, our five bedroom three bathroom home that is! We sat with a few of his friends and discussed everything from sex to cars.

Suddenly we got interrupted by a very well known vuevuzela sound trumpeting next to us. This was promptly followed by a deep roar that shot through the whole township. This reminded us that the game has already started and that we have probably missed a goal. So we walked to the nearby fan park. There is a vibe on these streets that is difficult to describe. It is like everybody knows one another well. I haven't seen one drunk person and were surprised at how well almost everybody were dressed. We entered the fan park where 3000 young people gathered to watch the game on the big screen provided. Vuevuzela's were blown all around and the people danced and partied like I've rarely seen. In a radius of at least 20k's we were the only whites yet I strangely felt very save and at home. The vibe is indescribable!

After the game we went to the home of one of Victor's friends. In their small yard, this friend made a lovely garden, complete with lighting which he switched on to welcome us. We made a fire in a worse for wear car rim and talked and talked. What amazed me was that unlike the people in my white community nobody spoke much about themselves but on issues effecting the country and how it can be solved.

I drove home humbled by what I experienced and inspired to built more such friendships across racial lines. I'll be forever grateful for this exposure! (see pictures I took on the next blogpost I wrote in Afrikaans)

A World Cup Story (English readers be patient-a english version will follow in due time)

By ‘n funksie wat ek onlangs bygewoon het, het ek bevriend geraak met ‘n inwoner van Tembisa. Sy naam is Victor en hy swot ekonomie deur Unisa. Hy het my genooi om saam met hom en sy vriende die Bafana teen Frankryk wedstryd te kyk in Ivory Park se “Fan Park” in Tembisa. Ek het die uitnodiging dadelik aangeneem. Omdat ek redelik skrikkerig was vir die onbekende wêreld wat ek moes betreë, het ek ‘n pel saamgevat...
Victor het ons by die polisiestasie in Tembisa ontmoet waarvoor ek heimlik dankbaar was. Daarna het hy ons na sy woonplek geneem. Ek het aangeneem dat Victor wat wyd belese is en oor blykbaar enige onderwerp ‘n sinvolle opinie kan lig van die meer welgestelde inwoners in Tembisa is. Groot was my verbasing toe hy ons laat stop by ‘n klein HOP huisie waarin sy ouers bly. Victor self bly in ‘n sinkkamertjie agter in die klein erfie. Sy kamertjie is pynlik netjies en skoon. Die eenkant van sy kamertjie bestaan uit boekrakke met boeke oor baie verskillende onderwerpe. Van ekonomie tot BMW’s. Drie armlengtes van hierdie boekrakke, teen die anderkantste muur is daar ‘n klein tafeltjie waar Victor tot laat saans by die lig van ‘n skermlose gloeilampie bo die tafeltjie studeer. Bo die tafeltjie teen die muur is daar ‘n tipe kennisgewingbord waarop Victor se pennevrug van gedigte vasgesteek is. In die middel van hierdie bord is daar ‘n prominente, grootgeskryfde gedig in rooi letters. Ek kan nie die woorde presies onthou nie maar dit beskryf al die dinge wat Victor voel ‘n mens nie kan kies nie. Jou ouers, jou agtergrond, jou velkleur ens. Die gedig sluit dan af met ‘n sin wat iets soos die volgende lui: “But I can take responisbility for the choices I can make!”
Half droomverlore gesels ek en my vriend met Victor en sy vriende oor alles en nog wat in hierdie beknopte kamertjie. Ek dink aan hoe ek vroeëer die middag gekla het oor hoe koud ons huis is, ons vyfslaapkamer, drie badkamer pastorie. Ek luister hoe positief en opgewonde Victor is oor die land. Ek begin so klein soos die kamertjie voel. Skielik onderbreek die geskree van ‘n nou reeds bekende Vuevuzela digby die kamertjie ons gesprek. Dit word opgevolg deur ‘n dowwe deurdringende gedreun van 50000 Ivory Park inwoners wat Bafana se eerste doel vier. Victor sê: “I think we must go”. Ons stap na die “Fan Park” twee kilometer daarvandaan. Daar is baie mense op straat en dit lyk asof almal mekaar ken want elke tweede persoon groet Victor en mekaar asof hulle jare laas gesien het. By die park dans 3000 jongmense uitbundig voor ‘n groot skerm wat die wedstryd wys. Ek en my vriend is die enigste twee witmense in ‘n raduis van twintig kilometer maar op ‘n vreemde manier wat ek moeilik vind om te verduidelik, het ek nog nooit so tuis gevoel nie. Na die wedstryd stap ons na ‘n ander vriend van Victor se huis toe. Op die erf langs ‘n stowweroge straat het hierdie vriend die mooiste tuintjie gemaak met liggies en al wat hy trots vir ons aanskakel. ‘n Groep ouens steek ‘n vuur in ‘n afgeleefde motorrim aan. Hulle begin gesels. Nie een praat oor hulleself nie maar oor wat gedoen kan word om die probleme van Suid Afrika op te los.
Half nege klim ek en my vriend in my Volvo om huistoe (die een wat vir my te koud is) te ry. Dit is stil in die kar. Terwyl ek uit hierdie ervaring uitry maal ‘n gedagte deur my kop: “Here gaan weg van my af want ek is ‘n sondige mens!”

Dreamride on Youth Day

After a breakaway at my grandfather's Game Lodge in the Madikwe Game reserve near the Botswanna border it so happened that me and my three year old son went home with my grandfather. Because he lives in Randburg and Delmas is quite out of his way, I offered to be dropped off at the Gautrain station in Sandton form where me and my boy took the train to the airport.

It was quite a mission to handle two suitcases and an energetic three year old in the long cues waiting outside the station. However, an official must have seen that I am struggling. He came up to me and took us right to the ticket office from where we took the escalators to the train. In no time we sat in a train that trumped my wildest expectations. The train is clean and world class in every way (I've been on many trains in Europe and the UK). The train was dead centre on time. The ride was smooth and fast and in 14 minutes we arrived at OR Tambo airport. But the real treat wasn't the quality of the train ride but the vibe on the train. There was an air of excitement tangible. Everybody smiled. Opposite us sat a obviously wealthy black couple. Before I knew it my son went and sat right on their laps. I took a picture. I also immortalised this experience in my memory. It was like having a glimpse of the future, of a non-racial and efficient society that buried the past and a society where a great many different people live alongside each other in harmony.

I have hope for my country! If you don't take a ride on the Gautrain and get a glimpse of what our nation is capable of!

Why won't we apologise?

On my recent study tour we visited a Baptist congregation in London with 32 different races/nationalities represented in one congregation. We learned a lot about the challenges such a situation poses but also about the joy and fulfillment it brings to worship together as one people of God. A Nigerian pastor from a nearby congregation also met as there. He pastored a mostly black congregation and told them that it is a theological no-no that a church should consist of people form only one race. He and his congregation actively planned how white people could be made to feel welcome and become members of a black church. He even wrote a book on the subject. I was inspired by his vision of racially integrated churches.

When we were about to leave this black pastor thanked us and then he did something quite remarkable. He, a black man, apologised for any thing black people in South Africa might have done to harm us during the transition form apartheid. To me it was logical that this should be responded by a heartfelt apology from our side. Most in our group were in their late forties and early fifties. This means that they have benefited from apartheid and will continue to do so for the rest of their lives. Many of them were members of the Broederbond and part of the synods that said apartheid is biblical. But instead of an apology only a dreadful silence followed. I who was 12 years old when apartheid ended, who attended a High School and University that was integrated, who will in future probably be worse of in terms of pension funds than my fellow tour members, I stood up and apologised from the bottom of my heart. I also benefited form apartheid in many ways in in some ways will continue to do so for many years to come. I also owed an apology.

The question that bugs me though, if I am willing to apologise why wouldn't my fathers generation, who have much more reason to apologise do so? Either they don't realise what apartheid did to people or they think they were justified in doing it to other people. The realisation of this makes me sick. One thing I know, I will apologise at every opportunity I get for as long as I live. I will also apologise for previous generations not apologizing when they could and should have done so.

How does one reconcile?

The world we life in could do with as much reconciliation as possible. There is no reconciliation however big or small that doesn't in some way make the world we live in a better place. It is important to realise that reconciliation is not a deed but a process. It is therefore something that hap pend over time. Time, though will never reconcile people. Time only heals if it is used wisely. I find Kraybill's description of the reconciliation process very helpful. Maybe you do to:

1. Relationship risk. The basis of any relationship is that people in a relationship take risks because they trust each other. The more trust, the greater the risks people are willing to take.
2. Injury. Because we are human beings, we make mistakes. At some point people fail to meet the expectation of those they are in a relationship with. When this happens risk is not rewarded which of course leads to injury and distrust.
3. Withdrawal. When injury occur people withdraw either physically, mentally or emotionally. This is a necessary and healthy response to injury. If people are given time to lick there wounds they will eventually start thinking about reconciliation.
4. Reclaiming identity. Through a process of self -awareness and self-affirmation people will recover form their injured self-esteem and self confidence. Without this happening the reconciliation process will not advance any further.
5. Internal commitment to reconciliation. We speak here of a conscious commitment to seek reconciliation, a willingness to take the risks involved in trying to reestablish the relationship.
6. Restoration of risk. Until there is restoration of risk there can be no restoration of trust.
7. Negotiation to meet present needs. There will probably new needs that arose form the past injuries for both parties and these need to be negotiated. This negotiation will free both parties to normalise the relationship if it is done thoroughly.

Easer said than done. Never the less helpfull!

Mclaren's take on human history

In the second last chapter of "A New Kind of Christian" Brian Mclaren gives a take on human history that is nothing short of brilliant. I find it very helpful. He describes human history as having different zones to which he assigns a specific colour (for a specific reason that will become clear later). Each zone is defined by a specific quest or struggle...

The first identifiable zone in human history was a quest for survival. As hunter-gatherers human beings were involved in a desperate struggle for the basic life sustaining properties such as food and water. During this stage God was came to think of as the Provider (and at times the "Withhelder") of things necessary for survival. Brian identifies this stage with the colour red.

This zone was followed by a Quest for Security. As people came to live together in clans and tribes they felt the need to secure their land and sources form other tribes. During this stage a theology developed in which God was seen as the Almighty Warrior and protector. This Brian calls the orange zone

Third the quest for power came for as competing city states began to be ruled by powerful warlords, a need developed to have a competitive advantage over others. Many people indeed found this competitive advantage over others in a believe in God as a all powerful king, emperor or even dictator depending on the form of governance the people got used to. This is the yellow zone.

Fourth the quest that followed was one for independence. As people became aware of the fact that the more powerful a ruler became the more corrupt he becomes a need developed to have something even better than human rulers and in their mind that turned out to be timeless laws, principles and values to which even the rulers must adhere. Now God became less the King and more of the Judge and in many peoples minds only the distant architect of timeless laws and principles who actually isn't involved in any relational way in His creation. The age of rationality has dawned. Brian calls this the green zone.

Next came the quest for individuality as a natural consequence. Since the world was now seen as a rational machine which operated according to set universal laws people felt free to explore their individuality through competition for goods. Independence was what all strive for (many still does of course). God now became our Personal Saviour which was understood as the one who's blessing could be gained for personal success and individual achievement. People formed voluntary denominations and associations which could be joined according to personal choice hence the religious "industry". This was the blue zone.

The next zone was one of disillusionment. We looked back at things such as two world wars, the Khmer Rough regime in Cambodia, Apartheid in South Africa. We realised that we are destroying the planet by running after profit on profit. We looked the fact in the eye that we made a few people rich and the great many others dirt-poor. We began asking ourselves if the rational we worshiped weren't perhaps overrated. We don't exactly know what to do about the mess we created but we want to start by at least not denying the dilemmas we created. This the quest in this, the indigo zone can be described as a quest for honesty. Some like to call this quest for honesty relativism, pluralism or post modernism.

The next quest would be a quest for Peace and healing in which we not only deconstruct but also start building anew in a spirit of togetherness that African philosophy coined as "Ubuntu". Here the community and relational qualities of God are (re)discovered. Brian Calls this the violet zone.

How coming zones and quests are going to look like we can only speculate. The kicker is that we are not all in the same history zone. When you look at the theologies of different churches you'll notice some still in the quest for protection, others involved in the quest for security, individualism and power. Those stuck in earlier stages tend to either shy away from or worst, attack the truths later stages wants to add to our understanding of God. Those in more advanced stages tend to look down upon earlier stages thinking about the people comfortable there as obstructionists. When they (we) do this they objectify and dehumanise the honest effort of people in previous and future zones which of course helps nobody. It is the violet zone's insights that might show us a better way to look at each other. It is therefore good to realise that all colours put together gives us in a metaphorical sense, the light of God. Therefore listening and appreciating one anther's insights as coming from an honest struggle of wrestling with what it means to be human and what it means to believe in God. We must try and give a person in a different zone than us the space to explore and share whether it be from a zone before or after our own.

What excites me about the person of Jesus when I consider Brian's take on history is that He is not just another child of His time but the Child born into the fullness of time, not only one representing a colour but the one who gave us a glimpse of the true light of God that we will one day experience when all history's zones has played out. Therefore looking unto Him can enable us to transcends the zones and thinking we are stuck in and continue growing in our exiting journey of discovering God, a journey we somehow blandly describe as history.

Back Home

I'm back home and like they say there's no place like home. My trip enriched me in so many ways. The most important thing I learned is that we need a missional approach to church and ministry as apposed to an attractional approach. After what I've seen I do hope that I will be able to meaningful conversate with my mainline middle of the road congregation. Rome wasn't built in a day. As long as we can start conversations we can find meaning in our life. Even if the results are not to be seen in our lifetime...

My Go at Dutch Poetry

Nederland gij bent deel van mij
In jouw geschiedenis erken ik meself

Ik wil uit jouw stromen drink
Ik wil jouw naeuwe bronnen wijs
Ik wil niet vergeten waar ik vandaan komt
Ik wil niet in het verlede stilstaat

Ik wil op het best van jouw bouw
maar met jouw foute niet trouw

Ik wil jouw in mij hart dragen
en met mijn handen dienen

Europe Then and Now

In 1993 I had the priviledge of staying in Belguim for three months with my family. Since I was in a School, I got know the european culture quite well form the ''inside'. Europe has and always will have a very rich cultural heritage, something anybody would be proud of. What I have found in 1993 was that this pride can easily go over in arrogance. Many a time even as a boy of but thirteen years of age, I experienced how europeans tend to think they know best and that the world should emulate them. Especially when it came to South Africa's sad history of apartheid especially the Dutch were quick to point fingers and "show the way". Most interestingly theEurope I encounterd this time round was way different. We met with five quite well known authorities on the emerging church and misional thinking here in the Netherlands. Each one of them had a humbleness and acknowledged form the start of their talks that they can learn as much and even more from us than we can from them. I found this moving. Indeed it is true and africans should realise this. We in Africa have much to offer the world. Though Europe's intellectual contribution is a tough act to follow our complex contexts gave many of us a wisdom beyond mere book knowledge wich can help others much. When it comes to missional thinking living alongside such a vast array of cultures other than your own gave us no choice but to engage with cross cultural issues, issues countries like the Netherlands are increasingly confronted with. For the first time I am considering becoming a missonary to...Europe:-). Who would have thought this possible ten years ago?

Intentional Living Oxford

In Oxford we visted Jonny Baker who is also quite a well known voice in the missional church in Britton. Unfortunately I was dead tired and didn't take in much. The veening we visted a "misson house" where eight people live together. There are two couples both with little children and the rest are singles. Every evening they eat together. They divede household chres and try to be a witness by living together in a pieceful and helpful way. Living like this also decreses everyone that live there ecological footprint. They have house rules they have decided on together wich functions more like codes than rules. They welcome any vistors in the conviction that God Himself meets us in strangers.

What these guys do, I believe will become a growing trend among Christians. Come to think of it, that is how things worked in the early church. Christians lived together and shared in such a way that other people came to notice. Independence in our society has become something we put to high a value on. All could benefit by living together in a spirit of christian love. For those of you who want to know more about this I highly recommend reading Shane Clairborne's books.I'm inspired, How about you?

Cadbury Gospel

The Highlight of the tour thus far was the visit to the Cadbury Chocolate factory here in Birmingham England and I didn't even eat a single bit of chocolate! Let me explain...

We visited a Church planter and missiologist, Martin Robinson. He took us on a tour through the Cadbury facility which is much more than just a chocolate factory. 1880 George Cadbury, inspired by a vision for a truly Christian society decided to but his dream into reality. He built homes for his workers, schools for their children, Churches to pray in and parks to relax in. Even today most of these buildings are being used for their original purposes. Being a Quaker, George allowed no pubs. He fired any worker of his drinking without asking any questions even if it was after hours. The church we visited started in a house and then moved to a facility in the local community centre. The centre went bankrupt soon afterwards and the church was asked to take over the facility. Since 1300 people of the community visit this facility every week the 150 strong congregation took up the challenge in order to reach the community with the love of Christ. There were one strange condition though. Although ol' George wouldn't have liked it the facility had a pub and a coffee shop. Part of the contract stated that both had to remain after purchase. A Church that sells pints...now that's my kind of church. These guys builds relationships with the community in true missionary fashion. Like you can imagine it is not always easy. Once a rugby club sneaked in strippers. Instead of being the ever judgmental fingerpointers they explained to the club that they would like to run events at the community centre that does not exclude people especially children. The club understood and the relationship grew. Recently the club captain shown alot of interst in the christian faith. I can keep you busy for hours with the stories he told us...But lets leave some for future blogs, hey?

Martin wrote many books but the brilliant signed copy I'm devouring right now is called: The Faith of the Unbeliever" in which he brilliantly describes Europe's decent into unbelief, the reasons for it and the new spiritual hunger evident. Gripping stuff I tell you! Sorry for not responding on your comments. i'm in u rush whenever I get the chance to blog on the net here in England but will reply as soon as we get a proper break!

Study Tour Update

It's been a jam packed few days of traveling, meeting with emergent church leaders in London and writing reports on what I learned. I learned a lot. This tour is all about coming to terms with being missional Church in a post christian world. Brittan is like twenty years ahead of South Africa when it comes to these cultural developments so it's like peeking into the future. The main things I learned or became aware about were the following:

1. The dire need for churches to get involved in issues of social justice
2. The importance of making disciples of Christ rather than making followers of a particular Church's way of thinking.
3. The many forms church can actually take.
4. The many messages the gospel contains for different cultures and sub cultures
5. The effectiveness of an incarnational theology and way of doing things in the post-modern paradigm
6. The potential true Christlike living has to transform society.

I'll keep you posted!

Leaving on a Jetplane

Today I'm leaving for a two week study tour through Brittan and the Netherlands. We, a group of pastors and theologians are going to visit various churches that do church in a different way. Looking forward to it and will try and blog as much as possible about what I see and learn there.

Bye

How I propose we should train our dragon

My south african "village" has been plagued by a specific problem for ages. The problem of living together with those "we" perceive as the "other". The solution that was found eventually was apartheid, a regime of separate development. For various reasons this turned out to be a bad solution which gave a small part of the populations huge advantages and the rest a really raw deal. Worst of all, it alienated whites and blacks from each other. Both had (and has) so much to teach and give the other.

This alienation made us think that the enemy is blacks or whites, hiding the fact that a much greater enemies lurked in a cave and ate away at our potential. enemies such as racism, poverty, corruption, unequal education. Luckily a few leaders realised that this solution in fact solves very little and will eventually cause more problems than it create. So apartheid fell structurally and we all were in awe of "Madiba Magic" back then. Problem is it only fell structurally for many people. The generation before mine somehow decided to keep at the old apartheid solution in practise and only where it is absolutely required by law, reach out to the other. To many people kept on fighting the dragons instead of collaborating with them and in so doing unleash the potential of this country and tackling the real enemies.

So I propose a different approach. My generation must go out of their way to built relationships with every kind of "other" we can imagine. We must approach them not as masters (like the boy did in the movie) but as equals, as people than not only could be helped and learned by us but also as people that have much help to offer and much to teach us. We must stop the nonsense of insisting to worship separate and in our own language and realise that even Jesus didn't preach in His mother tongue. We must do everything in our power to reconcile with those we perceive to be others, even if it cost us a arm and a leg. Reconciliation simply won't happen without sacrifice. Older generations will not understand our approach. They will keep scaring us with warnings not to trust the other because they are "dangerous". However in the end they will come to realise that our solution works much better than theirs and be proud to call us their sons and daughters once more. And that is how I think we should train our dragon!

How to Train your Dragon

Last night me and my wife went and see a movie. "How to Train your Dragon", an animation. It tells the story of a viking boy with the strange name of "Hiccup". His little village is plagued by dragons that come by night and steal livestock. With his father as chief much in the village centre around fighting and killing dragons. It has become the measure of success for both men and women-the ability to sleigh dragons.

Poor Hiccup lives with the tension of knowing in his heart that he is not a dragon slayer and probably never will be. By twist of fate he manage to catch a dragon in a net which injures this dragon in a way that prevents him form flying. This happens to be the most feared dragon, the so called "Night Fury". Unfortunately nobody saw Hiccup shooting the net and catching this dragon and of course nobody believes Hiccup when he tells them. He therefore go look for the dragon all by himself, finds it but when he looks in the helpless dragon's eyes, he is unable to kill him. Instead he frees the dragon and later on helps it to repair it's broken wing and to fly again. A deep friendship develop. Hiccup learn a lot about dragons and comes to know them as friendly creatures with which his people can collaborate with. He also learns that the only reason they steal livestock from his village, is that they all live in fear of a very big monster dragon that needs to be fed regularly. When this friendship becomes known in the village Hiccup has to endure his father and the village's scorn and disappointment.

In the end, through Hiccups interventions the village and dragons collaborate to defeat the big monster dragon. And although Hiccup loses a leg in this epic battle all lived happily ever after. Even his father is proud of him and realises that his son's way was exactly the approach the situation called for.

This was a entertaining and good movie. And although it is no Oscar candidate to me the message I got from this movie was nothing short of a voice from God guiding me at a time when I very much needed guidance. In my next post I will explain why...

A New Kind of Christianity

I am not even half way through it and already I came to the conclusion that this is one of the best books I have read. The way in which Brian Mclaren frames Christianity in a new way excites me. I can't wait to preach on the issues he addresses which will no doubt get me in hot water again but hey after spending so much time there one tends to climatise, you know!

It quite a well known fact that every five hundred years the Christian faith undergoes cataclysmic shifts. The reformation in the 15oo's is a good example of such a shift. These shifts are although traumatic for the Christians living in the time they occur (both those who make the necessary shift and those who don't), good for the people who practise it now and will practise it in the future. It keeps faith relevant, makes it interact with the fast changing world people live in, brings about old messages in a refreshing and new way.

Comparing the shift that happened with Martin Luther and the reformation to the shift that is needed now, Brian formulates the process that's going on in a nothing short of brilliant way. Whereas in the reformation Luther made a new statement that lead to a debate which in turn lead to a new state, what we need today is different. We need new questions that won't lead to debate but to conversations which hopefully will unite as in a new quest.

Please buy this book and read it with me and in so doing you will perhaps join a quest that will invigorate your walk with good. I don't know about you but I am more than ready to move beyond self-assured statements, tiring debates that before they create a new state also produce a lot of hate and divide people. I feel much more comfortable with questions that moves people in humbleness toward each other in conversation than with answers of the self proclaimed experts that divides people in camps. I am more than ready to embrace a new kind of Christianity and Brian Mclaren might just be the first one to articulate what's been living in many peoples hearts.

South Africa's new Racist Party

My first blog post was morbid. Considering the tense mood in South Africa this week I surely can't be blamed for feeling a little gloomy. Much has been written on the murder of Eugene Tereblanche and it's consequences. Many people incite hate and fear with what they write most notably Dan Roodt which I see as a Far right extremist of the worst, the intellectual kind.

I don't have time to give my perspective on everything that happened thus far. I'll briefly comment on something that happened today. Both Visagie, a leader of the AWB and Malema, leader of the ANC youth league lashed out at the media today. In some strange way this coincidence showed them to be birds of the same feather- Undisciplined extremists who's uncomfortable with dialogue when spreading their racist rhetoric. Maybe this could help people to realize that racism in whatever form is unhealthy and ugly. Maybe black and white could in this way be united in a fight against racism and not against each other.

Titanic Church

Legend has it that when the Titanic began to sink there was a group of musicians that played their instruments in the midst of the chaos created by people scurrying back and forth trying to save themselves. I do not no how historically accurate this is and if these musicians perished with their ship or not but I do find in the legend a powerful way of understanding myself and the community of faith I currently serve.

I am a pastor in the Dutch Reformed Church. It used to be and in some ways still is a powerful denomination with a lot of members and great resources. It is also a shrinking (or should I aptly say "sinking") denomination. Any closed system will eventually regress and die and the Dutch reformed Church in my mind is no exception. It used to be the blue eyed boy of the national Party in the Apartheid years. Many of it's leaders were members of the secret Broederbond society that called the shots on much of what was decided in those times. Many white churches today must to their shame admit that they went with the flow during the apartheid years. The Dutch Reformed Church however took it a step further. Not only did this church remain silent on the gross injustices of Apartheid, they also justified the apartheid regime theologically. In my opinion that was the moment this impressive organisation hit the iceberg. It will take quite a while for this ship to actually sink. Some on board simply do not believe this is possible and live in denial, others try frantically to repair the damage whilst others loot what they can and make for a life boat outside. I try not to be part of any of these groups. I try to be the musician that plays the best music I know to calm, challenge, provoke, heal and inspire those who care to listen. I didn't join the crew by purpose. I was brought up in the Dutch Reformed Church and by the time I decided to become a pastor who wants to play the truth-music of the gospel the best I could, this church was simply the logical choice. By the time I began my studies the church apologised what seemed to be wholeheartedly for apartheid and their role in it. Negotiations for integration with our black and brown sister churches seemed well underway. Sadly even twenty years after apartheid none of the remorse or talks of uniting materialised in any meaningful way. Young people are leaving my church in droves for this and many other reasons. It is now evident that the ship will sink.

I don't exactly feel called to go down with the ship. Whilst I play my music I keep my eyes open for a space on a lifeboat that can take me, made wiser by what I learned on my journey thus far, to a new hopeful beginning. I dream of a non-isolated life in which I engage with people form all races and read the Bible with Christians from all races and denominations. I dream of confessing openly what my people did wrong while proclaiming it to be the will of God. I dream of receiving the forgiveness of those I confess to and take hands with them towards a better future. I dream of playing my music in the much larger orchestra of an integrated South Africa. I hope for the grace of a new beginning. I have no assurance that I won't perish with the ship but as long as I have this hope I will "move nearer my God to Thee" while I play the most beautiful songs to people in a dying structure. This is my story. Stay tuned for it has but started.