Water

Something to think about, stemming from a Bible study presented by Prof. Steve de Gruchy at Conference:

3% of the world's water is fresh water;
0.1% of this water is surface water;
About half of this water is accessible;
It takes more water to produce the plastic bottles which are used for bottled water than the water it contains;
People need about 20l of water, where most of the world's population have to survive on 4l per day.

How do you use water?

Welcome to Themba!

A warm welcome to my colleague and friend, Themba Mntambo to the bloggosphere! You can follow him here.

After a busy day

Burying ashes

Today we buried my grandfather's ashes at Roodepoort cemetery. We decided on this place as my grandfather's father, grandfather and grandmother were buried here. My grandfather's grandfather and father came to South Africa from the Netherlands. We are not precisely sure from which town, but have a hunch that they lived in Amsterdam. There are still quite a few Van Goeverden's listed in this city. My grandfather's father died at age 33 when my grandfather was 3, turning 4. He had a weak heart. My grandfather's mother then remarried. It was strange to see my great-grandfather's grave. My grandfather barely knew him, as he was my age when he died, leaving behind a young wife and a very young child - about our Nathan's age. And so we buried Oupa Goewies' ashes at his father's feet.



I could, for a moment, imagine my great-grandfather embracing his son, spending time to get to know each other and telling stories of all that had happened during the last 70-odd years. Just as I sat on my grandfather's lap, it was now his turn to sit on his dad's lap, to be embraced and loved, to be assured of a love that surpasses the boundaries of life and death.



Not too far away are my grandfather's grandfather and grandmother's grave. I felt extremely sad for my great-great-grandmother as she buried both a husband and a son.



Here lies my grandfather, under a bottlebrush - a plant he loved very much.



As we left the cemetery, I saw in my mind's eye my ancestors, who rest in this place, welcoming Oupa Goewies. I imagined him looking at me, smiling, saying that he was going to be ok. He will not be going home with us today. He will wait here for our next visit. In the meantime he has some catching-up to do.

He laughed.

We laughed as we left this hallowed site, seeing the signboard that welcomes all its visitors. Oupa Goewies must have seen this when he came to visit his ancestors and I know what he was thinking.



Closure.

Meet Milo Bentley

His name is Milo. We took him into our home today. He is actually Matthew's puppy, a birthday present. Matthew has been asking for a puppy for his birthday now for months. At first we thought it was just another phase, soon to be replaced by requests for a DVD, a Playstation or a skateboard. Not this time. Matt's birthday is on 11 September, but this puppy came just at the right time.

Milo is a Miniature Schnauzer. We had to do our research quite carefully. There are only so many types of dogs that don't lose their hair, and Miniature Schnauzers are one of of them. Matt bought Milo with his own money, and has asked his friends and family to rather contribute towards Milo's purchase than to buy him a present. The Greek blood is coming through.

In any case, welcome little Milo. We hope you enjoy this family.

Ps. If you would like to contribute, drop me a line and I'll give you Matt's banking details.

The August winds are blowing.

If you live on the highveld of South Africa, you will come to know the August winds. Winters are dry and cold with cloudless skies and a biting chill in the air. There is very little wind in winter, perhaps only a slight breeze that makes it feel even colder.

But then in August the wind starts to blow. Dust is everywhere and you don't dare clean until spring - a real spring clean. It is this wind which signals change. It is this wind that brings moist air from the coast and brings with it the promise of rain, and new life. It signals the approach of spring, calling forth warmth and colour.

This August wind brings more than the usual for me. I have experienced a renewing breath in my spiritual life during the past two months. there is a deeper sense of connecting with myself, with my family and with God. For the first time in my life, and this is really the first time, do I experience the gift of living in the present. Thanks to the prayers of friends, the support of my family and guidance of my friend and psychologist, Rene Cruickshank, have I journeyed through some very painful experiences which have brought to the surface memories, experiences and identities long hidden.

This has led me to revisit some of the things that I considered "touching" in the past. Music played a vital part in my life-experiences and so I turned to my CD collection and found the very first CD I ever bought - Steven Curtis Chapman: The Great Adventure (Live). What a joy to listen to! And then I searched him on Google and found that this man has experienced some hard times during the last year or two and is bringing out a new CD based on his thoughts and feelings. (His little girl was tragically killed in an accident (http://www.stevencurtischapman.com/). The title of his CD is "Beauty will rise".

It reminds me of August winds. God doesn't make life easy, but God brings hope and healing. Not always in the ways that we want or expect, but through the winds there is the expectation, the awaiting of petricor - the smell of rain. My prayer for you is that you will know the renewing wind of God's Spirit bringing hope in places that are desolate and dry.

A word from the Lord

This Sunday, a lady from our congregation who knows a bit of what has been going on in my life, came to me and told me that she has a word from the Lord for me. I am usually suspicious of these "words", but her sincerity and message resonated well with where I am. I would like to share what she put down on paper. This is a translation from the Afrikaans:

You stood in front of me with your face and whole body creased like a dishcloth that had just been squeezed out. All of a sudden love, peace and God's glory started shining through your face. Peace, relief, faith, love and all that is beautiful to God beamed through you, because God 'squeezed' all the anger out of you, like one dries a cloth. Your path is open and is like that of a newborn child. 'Be of good courage, my son, for God has heard your prayers and they will be answered in His time'. A word of caution: Be careful of head-knowledge. Become like a small child and feed on your Father in Heaven. Be of good courage, beware and spend more time with God to be healed.

As I say, I treat these with caution, but this was something that I needed to hear and I trust that God has heard my prayers. I will continue to look after my health and hope that when the follow-up exam comes in six months time, I will receive good news. This has been a tough year.

Sunday, bloody Sunday

And so they stuck again. They broke into my car, parked in our driveway and stole the radio and my U2 cd.

We went out for the afternoon t visit Natalie's family. I came back home to get ready for church, at which I had to lead Communion. Needless to say, I did not feel like Communion very much, but in participating felt a close kinship with those who at least strive to live a godly life.

"Forgive us our trespasses..."

Oh, Lord, it's difficult. But I'll try.

6 August

On this day in 1945, the Bomb was dropped on Hiroshima. About 80 000 people lost their lives that day, with thousands more dying since then from radiation-sickness.

The irony is that we live in a world which still strives after nuclear-weapon capability.

And as usual, the ones shouting the loudest about stopping the development of nuclear weapons have the biggest arsenals themselves.

Victims of crime...again.

I'm starting to get the feeling that you can't call yourself a South African unless you have been a victim of crime...a sort of right-of-passage. Either that, or you must be a criminal.

A week has passed since another friend-of-the-family was killed on his plot. He was an elderly man, shot dead without questions asked. Last night someone broke into our garage and made off with two of our bicycles. I think our dog was making too much noise for their convenience, so they were gracious. The one bicycle was a gift from a widow-friend of ours who lost her husband in Iraq. It was an expensive "Bianci" bike that belonged to her husband, the other, my wife's mountain bike.

I am angry, even though we can consider ourselves not having lost much. We work hard for what we've got, and we don't have much. Everything we have has been saved for, planned for and eventually enjoyed when we got it. Now, some schmuck thinks he can simply march onto my property and take what he wants. And if I should dare ask a question, or poke my nose out the front door, I could expect a stolen gun to be pointing back at me.

What is this? Did I miss something? Am I supposed to feel sorry for the poor person who steal my stuff? I am not even going to try to compose a soppy message about how I should see this creep in a Christian-light... how I should pray for his salvation, because, at the end of the day, Jesus loves him just as much as me. No, I am angry, for this is not the first time... this is not the second time... this is not the third time. There is a part of me that prays that he will fall of that blinking bike while crossing over a bridge, to the road below, only to be met by an 18-wheeler.

Now for a few months of light sleeping, waking at every sound, paranoia about locking and checking, worrying about my family's safety while I am away at evening meetings, spending more to upgrade the security system on our property... I am tired, and did I mention, ANGRY!

Thought for the day...

In my devotions, the theme of "Sabbath" has come to the fore. The time to take a break and refocus on God. This does not need to be a long stretch, but spaces throughout the day when the demand of the world are put on hold. This past week has been filled with many different challenges and conflicts to be resolved. It has been a time for new deadlines, planning of essential projects affecting the lives of other people, and hopefully new ways of empowering people to be able to live moral and ethical lives.

And so I'm looking at my diary, asking when the next moment will be for a Sabbath. I think I can spot a few days in September after Conference, but for now, it is "close laptop lid", put cellphone on silent-mode and drink Rooibos tea with honey while watching a cartoon with my sons.

Almost forgot, thought for the day: "If you can't fix the problem with a hammer, it is an electrical fault."

Some thoughts on Psalm 14

Psalm 14
Ephesians 3:14-21;
John 6:1-21


“The fool says in his heart: ‘There is no God’”. There is no God. Who would say such a thing? From a place of faith, one can join with the Psalmist in frustration and anger, saying ‘Surely, only a fool will say such a thing’. With the Psalmist we may very well even become very condemning of such an action, warning that God will show Godself and that those fools will soon come face-to-face with their own foolishness. In this Psalm, we are asked to draw a line in the sand and to separate the fools from the wise. We are asked which side of the line we are standing on. Are you standing with the wise, or are you standing with the fools? I’m afraid that life is not as simple as that. I’m afraid that the Psalmist may have made it seem too easy, for one either to belong to one group or the other. I’m afraid that however strong our faith may be, there are still parts of our lives which cry out “There is no God”. If it were not so, we would be completely Godly, completely perfect, completely holy. Anybody here walk on water latterly? You know what I’m talking about. It is the place where one watches the news, sees the suffering of the innocent and for even that split second entertain the thought :”There is no God”. It is the moment of hearing devastating news that shapes your life forever “There is no God”. Sometimes these are fleeting thought, at other times a whole chapter being written in our spiritual growth. But today, we are faced with other ways in which we claim: there is no God.

There is no God outside my expectations.

In ancient faith there was no such thing. It all depended on the will of the gods. It is a very recent development in human history where we live by the philosophy that we are as big as our dreams. The American dream, the dream team, the dream body, the dream job, the dream wife, the dream husband. It is the modern search for perfection and happiness. With this way of life comes the belief that our expectations need to be met, otherwise we feel we have no meaning or purpose. Realistically speaking, of the 6 billion people in this world only a few will become famous, a few will become educated, a few will experience good health for the majority of their lives. Think about it this way. If you have satellite TV at home, the emount you spend on that per month is almost twice the amount of money that the majority of people in this world lives on per month. Isn’t that scary? Yet, when our expectations are not met, when our dreams don’t come true, we dare to say… and you guessed it “There is no God”.

There is no God outside my control.

This is the art of directing God. On the one extreme we pray as if we need to educate God, instruct God, coax God to do what we believe to be righteous and just. There are the folk who believe that God follows their instructions word-for word. A couple of years ago, a famous tele-evangelist came to South Africa. There were posters all around stating: Be in such-and-such a place and you will witness the hand of God performing miracles. To which I thought “Well, I hope God diarized the event”. But it is the subtle forms of struggle with God which affects us more, and I suppose that this is the crux of spiritual struggle, the struggle between the power of God and the will of self. The place where we are not explicitly stating that God doesn’t exist, but that my Will should count something in terms of God’s action.
There is a new U2 song which has been buzzing in my head, especially when these moments arise. The line in the song says:
“Stop helping God cross the road like a little old lady”
It may sound a bit strong, but I think it carries the just of the situation.

But hear the words of the Gospel and the Epistle:

God’s grace is sufficient for all. The miracle of the loaves and fish? Perhaps we have given it the wrong name. Perhaps it is not about the loaves and fish at all. Another reading of the parable suggests that as soon as the boy brought his food, people were touched by his generosity and starting bring out their hidden food. The miracle of the changing of hearts. If we are tempted to believe there is no God, perhaps we need to open our hearts and we will find God using what we have to ensure that there is enough for all: Enough to live, enough to love. Paul is convinced of the extent of this gift of God’s presence, for it is found in one gift: The gift of love. It is this gift which binds families together,, this gift which forges relationships, this gift which ensures that no-one should ever be in a place where they say “I’m on my own” – a place which says “There is no God”.

The fool says: “There is no God”. Let us surrender the places of our foolishness to the wisdom and Lordship of Christ.

A new chapter

I can remember my first day in Grade 1. I went to Laerskool Jongspan in Carletonville. My mom was crying and I asked her to leave so I could learn to read and write.

Today we enrolled my little-big boy at Glenstantia Primary.

I cannot say that I felt brave walking down the passage, knowing that my son's primary school days are about to start. The school seems so big, there are so many new faces... will he be ok?

Knowing Matthew, it will only take a few days for all of this to become familiar to him, but as a dad I cannot help but feel a bit scared for his part.

Psalm 91

In my devotions I read Psalm 91:7-13.

It was a passage I needed to hear today. I am tempted to read it literally, somehow hoping that it is a sign of things to turn for the better, especially after I heard some more bad news regarding my parents today.

And then I wondered: "What a great world it would be if the righteous were blessed and the wicked were punished?", or would it? There are so many good people who suffer tremendously and there are so many, shall I say "bastards", who have it all going for them: "Health, wealth, seemingly not a day's worries". Oh, the world can be glad that I'm not God, especially today.

Perhaps this is why evil prospers; there does not seem to be any incentive to be good. In a world of retribution, especially divine retribution, people would be good, or else... One might say that the reward is in the long-term. Religion would suggest it's either heaven or hell. Problem is, most of the baddies don't believe in the afterlife in any case, so they'll continue in their ways and won't bother seeing the righteous struggle.

Then again, not all people who struggle are righteous, not all people who prosper are evil. Sometimes I feel like I don't want to help God cross the road like a little old lady. I want to get behind this lady, grab her by the back and PUSH, running, with walking sticks flying, just to get to the other side quickly.

Meditation: "Stop trying to help God cross the road like a little old lady". Yes, Lord.

Stop trying...

"Stop trying to help God across the road like a little old lady..."

I love U2. This is a phrase in one of their new songs. Since my news and operation I have struggled with issues concerning my own mortality, God's will for me and my family etc.

Needless to say, I have tried to theologize God's behaviour in all this, trying to understand who God is and where God is. The more I search, the less defined and uncontrollable God becomes. And then I listened to my favourite band and heard the message loud and clear.

I will not have answers, I will not be able to rationalize all that has been and all that will come. More than that, I cannot patronize God by prescribing how God should act or how God should spare me this struggle. Like Paul, I can ask several times for this "thorn" to be taken away. I still pray for that, but in the end, this becomes a journey where I become strong in my weakness.

So, in all my questioning, in all my hunger to gain some energy to face the tasks that lie ahead today, this sentence is before me, a central point for reflection and meditation. Why not make it yours and tell me what you've discovered?

Oupa Goewies

His name was Hubertus van Goeverden. To me, and many others he was simply Oupa Goewies. He passed away almost a month ago after surgery. Oupa Goewies was a fireman, and proud of it. I remember as a small boy being put on the fire-engine and my Oupa would arrange a courteous sounding of the sirens. On Wednesdays they used to spray foam in the ambulance parking lot - a fantastic place to play hide-and-seek.

My favourite time was spent boxing with my Oupa in the quadrangle. If more people were like Oupa Goewies, we would not have a tenth of the world's problems. Did he love God? Yes. He loved God too much to belong to a church. It sounds strange, but you would understand if you knew him. A humble man, filled with love, but having no time for lying, cheating, laziness or hypocrisy. The depth of his faith and the level of his reasoning would certainly entertain great minds such as Barth and Bonhoeffer.

As news reached me of Oupa Goewies' passing, one thing struck me. There was still noise coming from the highway near our house. Horns were blaring, traffic was moving, people carried on with their lives. One of the greatest men that I have ever know had just passed away, but the world carried on as if nothing happened. What a pity.

So are all our lives, I suppose. We are all but dust. The things we regard as important are not always so. Working 18 hour days won't help the world to remember you. What do people remember? Things like sitting on top of a fire-engine, sparring in the quad, playing hide-and-seek in foam, taking walks in the park, helping to fix a flat bicycle tyre, nursing a wound, wiping a tear, celebrating life, taking time to listen.

I hope I can be even half the man to my boys as my Oupa was to me.

Hans Kung - a modern Luther

Hans Kung is one of my favourite theologians, one who is willing to stand by his beliefs despite the influences and powers of the institutional church. He recently published the second volume of his memoirs. For a brief description of the man and his work, click here - it is a fascinating read!

Luther on salvation

God works by contraries so that a man feels himself to be lost in the very moment when he is on the point of being saved... Man must first cry out that there is no health left in him... In this disturbance, salvation begins. When a man believes himself to be utterly lost, light breaks.

- Martin Luther

Back home

I am back home after my operation. They call the operation a Nissen-procedure. By the costs, they should have named it a BMW-procedure.

They made 5 holes on my stomach and then did the following by means of telescopic surgery:

1. Pull the stomach down through the diaphragm;
2. Tighten the hole in the diaphragm;
3. Wrap my stomach around the esophagus to make a one-way valve.



This way I will not get reflux into my esophagus again.

It is pretty sore, but the doctor reckons the operation was a success. Now I'm booked off until Thursday.

This was step 1. As soon as the Halo360 technology arrives in SA (a couple of months), We'll discuss zapping the Barretts and removing it completely. Thanks for all the prayers, messaged and telephone calls. It is much appreciated.

Now back to my soup, jelly and fruit juice diet (for a month!)

The night before

So, tomorrow morning at 7:30 I will undergo an operation to repair my hiatus hernia. This will hopefully stop the acid reflux. If it s succesful (doctors are very positive), then I can come off the Protein Pump Inhibators.

It has been a tremendously difficult month. My grandfather passed way last week and I conducted his memorial service on Saturday. Yet, I can feel God's presence in a powerful way. I feel at peace, yet quite nervous about the operation. The next time I blog it will be all done. God bless, and spare prayer for a brother.