What a nice little book

Someone gave me a book voucher for Christmas and I stumbled across this little book entitled "Do you think you're clever?". It is a book listing some of the absurd questions prospective students are asked before being admitted to Oxford or Cambridge. It also gives some possible answers to these questions. Some of the questions include: "What happens if you drop and ant?", "Can God create a stone so heavy that he wouldn't be able to lift it?", "If you made a whole straight through the center of the earth to the other side and jumped in it, what would happen?", and my favourite "How would you explain a spoon to a Martian?".

If you're looking for some light reading with good laughs, then this one is for you!

My little red car

This is the first Christmas without my grandfather. I miss him dearly. We all do. The year was 1978, I was two years old and my grandfather wanted to get me something special. He found a little push-car, red with black wheels. I played in this little car for several years to come.

While visiting my gran over Christmas, this little car stood outside her front door, all rusted and worse for wear. The memories flooded back. She saw me reminiscing and told me she thought it best if I took the little car home. Today I spent a good deal of the afternoon panel-beating, bending and respraying. I then presented it to my boys and they dubbed it their "red Ferrari".

I will treasure this photo alongside the photo's of little Wessel in his little red car.

Looking back at my goals and looking ahead

At the beginning of the year, I set out t accomplish some goals. Well, now is evaluation-time:

Editing the Ethics textbook which should be published by the end of the year, DONE
Submitted a research article last night, DONE AND PUBLISHED
Wrote a set of devotions for Disciplines 2010, DONE AND PUBLISHED
Writing a book on prayer during financial crisis, DONE AND PUBLISHED
Writing a book of Lenten devotions (long overdue), STILL BUSY, ALMOST FINISHED
Preparing a proposal for a paper which I plan to deliver at the Theological Society in June on Calvin's pneumatology and the African spirit-world, DONE AND PUBLISHED (did not go to TSSA)
Gathering notes for an article on leadership and ethics (due Oct), ALMOST DONE
Planning another book with Dion on the relationship between church and state, ALMOST DONE.

I feel good about what has been accomplished this year. In the meantime my thesis was published as a book, I had to undergo surgery and I'm recovering well. I'm learning how to relax and to enjoy life without its busy-ness.

Goals for 2010:

Finish outstanding projects from 2009
Write a meditation book for those growing older
Write a book for disillusioned Christians
Do 2 courses towards an Honours in Psychology (only have 4 to go)
Publish 4 research articles
Write up our project "Change the world in 15 minutes"
Play more guitar
Play more tennis
Attend all my children's sporting, school and cultural events
Take my wife on a date once a month (at least)
Plan a trip to Turkey
Survive, no live in 2010

Visit to the Voortrekker monument

Some call it the world's biggest advert for Trotters Jelly. To others it is symbolic of South Africa's racist past.

This is the Voortrekker monument, a monument erected to remember the Great Trek of the first white pioneers in Southern Africa who traveled by ox-wagon from the Cape of Good Hope inland to where we now have the countries of Namibia, Botswana, Zimbabwe and Mozambique.

The architecture is astounding! Built between 1938 and 1949, this monument is structured in such a way that at noon on December 16th, the sun's rays fall directly on a large stone with the words inscribed "We, for you, South Africa". It's walls contain the carvings of the stories of the Great Trek. And so, we spent the morning sharing this part of South Africa's history with our boys.

It was a violent history, but also one telling of the Afrikaner's determination to get away from Dutch and British oppression, surviving, innovating and choosing to travel north. This was met with great battles and conflict against the local inhabitants.

Very few of my ancestors came from these people. My mom is a third generation Dutch immigrant. Her maiden surname is "Van Goeverden", a family related to Dutch royalty. My father's family came to South Africa during the second Anglo-Boer war. Seven Bentley brothers landed in, what is now KwaZulu-Natal to fight the Boers. One of these brothers became a captain in the British military and was stationed at a Boer concentration camp. There he fell in love with one of the captive Boer women and later married. This lady, my great-great-great grandmother was the only one of my family who knew the hardships of the Dutch pioneers. A family name from her family, Wessel, was then passed on from generation to generation. This name has stopped with me, unless my sons choose to give it to one of their children.

I am reminded of how far we have come as a nation. On the walls there are pictures of how the Boers faught against the Zulu's, Matabeles, Xhosa's and others. I now have friends from all these nations, and count them to be some of my best friends.

It was a good visit. I don't know what to do with all the conflicting emotions inside, but for now, I remembered the stories and I am reminded that one's search for liberation and freedom is often shortlived. New institutions are formed, new conflicts, new power struggles. Politics always interferes.

Thoughts for my new book

I am busy writing the next installment of the '28 days' series entitled "28 days of prayer for disillusioned believers" and came across the following thoughts from John Wesley in his book 'A plain account of Christian perfection'. (These are excerpts from this book). I thought of using this as a basis for reflection. What do you think?

Hereby many are hindered from seeking faith and holiness by the false zeal of others; and some who at first began to run well are turned out of the way.
Q32. What advice would you give them?

• Watch and pray continuously against pride. If God has cast it out, see that it enter no more: it is full as dangerous as desire, and you may slide back into it unawares; especially if you think there is no danger of it.
• Be aware of the daughter of pride, enthusiasm. Oh, keep at the utmost distance from it? Give no place to a heated imagination. Do not hastily ascribe things to God. Do not easily suppose dreams, voices, impressions, visions, revelations to b from God. They may be from Him. They may be from nature. They may be from the devil. Therefore ‘believe not every spirit, but try the spirits whether they be of God’.
• Beware of Antinomianism; ‘making void the law’ or any part of it, ‘through faith’. Enthusiasm naturally leads to this; indeed they can scarce be separated.
• Beware of sins of omission; lose no opportunity of doing good in any kind. Be zealous of good works; willingly to omit no work, either of piety or mercy.
• Beware of desiring anything but God. Now you desire nothing else; every other desire is driven out; see that none enter again.
• Beware of schism, of making a rent in the church of Christ. That inward disunion, the members ceasing to have a reciprocal love ‘one for another’ (1 Cor. 12:25), is the very root of all contention, and every outward separation.
• Be exemplary in all things; particularly in outward things (as in dress), in little things, in the laying out of your money (avoiding every needless expense), in deep, steady seriousness, and in the solidity and usefulness of all your conversation. So shall you be ‘a light, shining in a dark place.’. So shall you daily ‘’grow in grace’, till ‘an entrance be ministered unto you abundantly unto the everlasting kingdom of our Lord Jesus Christ.’

State of health

Natalie: Upper Respiratory Infection, Bladder Infection
Matthew: Bronchitis
Nathan: Upper Respiratory Infection, Middle ear infection,
Conjunctivitis
Me: Getting sick of medical bills... and Upper Respiratory Infection

Maybe I am a bigot

On my last post "God of bacon" left a message which may mean many different things. If the worst is meant, the comment may infer that I am a bigot and training my son to be one too.

Perhaps I am a bigot and a poor dad. No "but"'s, no excuses. God of bacon, I promise to take your comment seriously and to work at being a better person. I also pledge to become a better father.

I hope to become a better person, because I am at present very disillusioned with our politicians. Let me tell you why, and if you have any suggestions to help me overcome this state of despondency, I welcome your comment.

I do not understand how people who faught against Apartheid for decades can come into power and forget the people so easily. It starts with leadership: from a head of state who has been implicated in dubious financial deals with a known mobster, accusations of having raped a young woman, to Ministers of Parliament who gained financially through the Arms deal, employing friends and family with little to no skill to high corporate positions.

It is these politicians who discouraged the South African people to seek proper medical care and instead of taking antiretoviral medication, to treat HIV/AIDS with "beetroot, garlic and African potatoes". The same people say and do nothing about the situation in Zimbabwe, but welcome Mr. Mugabe with open arms, treating him like royalty.

South Africa's unemployment rate closes in on 60%, the highest it's ever been. There is more poverty now than during Apartheid. By 2012, we will have about 5 million AIDS orphans. Out of a population of 45 million, it is quite a high number. These children will have to look after themselves and if the current trend continues, will mostly give themselves over for sexual favours in order to get money for food. So much for beetroot, garlic and African potatoes. So much for condoms stapled to pamphlets. Did I forget to mention that we have the highest HIV infection rate in the world, the highest murder per capita?

85% of the South African municipal districts are close to insolvency and cannot provide services to residents. In my city, Pretoria, a quarter of the population do not have access to running water, electricity or sanitation services. Yet, when we read the news, there are stories of how government officials spent "$50 000" on hotel accommodation (this was one person), and demand high-end vehicles, each costing in the region of $600 000. We hear of how it is going to cost $1 million to repair the low-cost houses erected by government. These houses were built in the last 10 years, some by contractors who are not registered, but offered "a good deal". Now houses are falling in on people while they sleep.

I can go on. But DON'T take my word for it. Come and see for yourself. And don't visit the "nice" places, but come and see how politicians are systematically removing homeless people from the city centers in order to make it "look pretty" for the Soccer World Cup. Come and see the open graves lined up for the thousands of AIDS burials that take place mostly on Saturday mornings. Come visit the victims of crime who lie maimed in hospitals. Come sleep in a shack for one night, sharing accommodation with those who have been promised houses over 15 years ago (and when the houses get built, they fall in). Come sit in the long queues at state hospitals where the facilities are appalling, taking almost a day to be seen by a doctor.

So yes, as you can see, I am very disillusioned with politicians. And I will be even a greater bigot if I enable these bigots who profess that they care about the people, but conveniently forget them, to think that their actions are ok. I will be a greater bigot if I vote for them.

In the meantime, faith communities and non-profit organizations have to facilitate social welfare, stand up for the poor and care for the displaced. We have to pray with victims of crime, bury the dead and comfort the families left behind. We have to teach people about antiretroviral medication, preventing HIV infection. We have too help the displaced, support, feed and educate those in child-headed families. And when we dare do, as at Central Methodist Mission, government barges in, threatening to close these churches down.

The one thing I treasure, is that even my 6 year old boy can see through this.

Matthew shares my prejudice.

I discovered my prejudice, well one of them. I don't like politicians. Here follows an excerpt of my conversation with Matthew this morning in the car as I listened to a 702 report on the state of Central Methodist Mission.

Matt: Pappa, can I ask you something?

Me: Matt, I'm just listening here. They are talking about one of pappa's friends.

Matt: Who?

Me: Uncle Paul.

Matt: What happened?

Me: He is the minister at a church in Johannesburg. There are people who do not have homes and he is allowing them to stay in the church. The politicians don't like what he's doing.

Matt: Those politicians are nasty!

Out of the mouths of babes!

My new book!

Hi friends

Just to mention the release of my new book from Cambridge Scholars Publishers: "The notion of mission in Karl Barth's ecclesiology. It is a bit pricey, but I think worth the investment ;-). Read more about this book here.

The worst our national anthem has ever been sung.

Didn't someone audition this guy?

Milo's first haircut

Our Miniature Schnauzer, Milo, got his first haircut today.

Stanley Hauerwas on prayer

Stanley Hauerwas is one of my favourite theologians, simply because he is so real. No pretense, what you see is what you get. (Thanks Dion for the link)

Simul Joostus et peccator

Thanks Beryl.



ps. For those not from South Africa, ZANEWS is a satirical series on South African life and politics.

Cooking again

I stopped cooking for a while. I made food, but didn't cook.

This year had taken it out of me and I struggled to find the energy and creativity to produce something that we could savour over a meal. Glad to say, things are returning slowly.

It came about by first making a deliberate choice to move away from prepackaged meat. It's unhealthy, environmentally damaging and expensive. So, if I want to make fillet, I go to the butcher and want to see how he cuts it from the carcass. The same goes for other types of meat. When I want to cook fish, I go to our local supermarket, choose the fish and watch how the head, tail and fins disappear and how filleting is done. I have been amazed at the difference in taste as well as the difference in price. This week alone I have been able to get Yellowtail at R22.00 per kilo and Hake at R51.00 per kilo. A kilo of fish is A LOT of food.

Secondly, I planted my own veggie and herb garden from which I get fresh greens. Once again, cost effective and really tasty! It is amazing how easy it actually is to plant and produce your own food.

So, tonight I made fried hake. Two hours of preparing batter, cutting the fish, making Basmati rice, cutting and cleaning broccoli... Two hours of not thinking about work, counseling, meetings. Just me, my German knives, fresh food, AMC classic pots and Classic FM in the background. Now, this is chilling. Pity I'm not allowed to drink wine anymore.

Getting something for nothing

I am spotting a trend in my country. Perhaps it is not just here, but this is where I notice it. It is the trend of expecting something for nothing. Let me explain. In this past week our national soccer coach was fired because the team has raked in a series of poor results. He was the 16th coach in 17 years. We expect the team to win, yet our players are notorious for not arriving at practices, there is constant infighting among those in top structures etc etc. So, the coach gets fired...again. Suppose people start thinking that there isn't a coach problem, but that there is an administration problem, an accountability problem.

Our mayor, Gwen Ramakgopa will probably be fired in the next day or two. She has been accused of mismanaging funds and is well known for her spending sprees. Yet, a quarter of Pretoria's residence do not have access to basic services such as water, electricity and sanitation services. I wonder where those in power thought these things would come from. Heaven?

For 15 years, Eskom, the South African electricity provider had not maintained or upgraded its facilities. Now there is a crisis as demand is outgunning supply. The immediate answer: a 43% hike in tariffs, with the same increase projected for at least the next three years. Where was the electricity going to come from? Thunderbolts? Yet, Eskom's executives have given themselves healthy bonuses over this period. Expecting something for nothing.

Next, there will be the water-crisis. It is not a crisis yet, because the rich have not been affected. But it is coming and sooner than we think.

Every time someone raises these issues, the standard response from those in political power is "Crisis, what crisis?". This cliche has become the running joke among South Africans. But then again, the roof doesn't leak if it doesn't rain.

I'm in love

Triumph Bonneville T100. They have this bike in this colour at the bike shop around the corner from the church. Aaaaahhhhh.

Nice photo's of Nathan and Lilly

Nathan and Lilly are best of friends. It wouldn't surprise me if they get married one day. See why...

And then my son made me chuckle...

Still a bit agro, we started eating supper. Nathan, our two year old lawyer (because he has an unbeatable argument for everything) was struggling to eat his carrots. He started moving from the table towards the T.V., ignoring our every effort to get him back. And then there was a thunderclap and he dashed back to the table. Sitting there with eyes stretched wide, he said "God is talking to me!". Stunned I asked him what God said. He replied: "God told me to eat my food!".

Where do they get this?

What a day!!!

I don't want today over again. I got angry too many times. I spoke improperly to too many people. This is what happened.

We were driving on the R21 (Pretoria to Johannesburg) to take my Vespa in for repairs. My Vespa was in a trailer, by the way. Travelling no more than 80 km/h to avoid any bumps and bruises to my baby, a guy in a white Jetta came past in the fast lane, but started veering towards my car and smacked off my side mirror. We both stopped and I lost my cool for the first time in years. He admitted guilt, but said that the car was not his. So, I phoned the owner, who was busy at the time, but promised to phone me back.

Dropped off old Bertie and went to our local police station to report the accident. They referred me to another station where I had to report the case. Then I phoned her again. This time she said the driver told her that the accident was my fault and that they would not be liable for damages as there weren't any witnesses. So I phoned the chap and asked him why he lied. No answer. Then I reminded him that my wife was in the car and that she would testify as a witness. Rude conversation. Conversation ended.

On our way to the other police station, a guy sitting on the back of a Bakkie chucked a glass bottle in front of my car. Hooters, ethics lecture on our responsibility towards the environment. Apologies, smiles, moved on.

Got to the police station where I was helped by a Constable who was busy listening to music on her cellphone. No greeting, she just slammed the forms down in front of me. everytime I asked for assistance, she would rudely point to blocks on the paper for completion without uttering a word. Ethics lecture on service to the community. Then she told me "This is not my job". Lost it again. Lecture on work ethic. Then I took her name and told her I knew the process to report her unprofessional behaviour. Conversion happened as quickly as during prayer at a Billy Graham crusade. Unfortunately her superior went home already, but I'll still phone tomorrow, because "It IS my job".

So, needless to say, my patience is running a bit low, my sense of humour oscillating, and I am looking for reasons to be thankful for living in a community where people don't own up to their mistakes, where civil servants find it more fulfilling to listen to music than doing their job and where some will deliberately lie in order to get away with not having to pay for their errors. Lord, help me.

When our children make us cry.

I mentioned in the car that I felt a bit hungry. Without mentioning anything, my son Matthew (6) made me toast with jam and cheese. What a surprise! I was caught off-guard, not thinking that what I had mentioned was heard and acted upon. I ate my toast, savouring every bit. By the way, when I write during summer, I often take off my shirt and sit at my desk only in shorts and socks.

Another knock on the door. "Look pappa!" His shirt was off. He put on his cream-coloured shorts, like mine. He put on his navy socks, like mine. "I look just like you!" By now I lost it completely. This child listened to me and acted. He looked at me and copied. This is stuff worth meditating on, but for now my computer is going to be switched off and I will be spending time with my boys.