Family

Blind to Blessings

Posted on March 25, 2013 by Pieter Stok

I don’t know if other people are like me but sometimes I fail to recognise how blessed I am.

My child bride is adding another notch on her belt of life on Tuesday. She is turning ** years of age. Her age has remained on 50 for a few years now. I first met her when she was 16, we were engaged when she was 17 and married at 18.  She liked older men – I was 21 when we met. We have known each other now for over 40 years and in that time and from early on she grew to be my best friend and has remained so all that time.

Simply put, God has given given me a fantastic life partner and I have to confess that I have not always recognised that. There were times when work took priority and she loved me regardless. There were other times that I neglected the family and this is when her wisdom and tenacity really shone. There was one infamous occasion when I was in my office (I was a pastor at the time) and the intercom buzzed, “There is someone here to see you.” she chimed sweetly. “Send them up,” I replied. A few minutes later, who should walk into my office but the child bride. I was about to splutter that I was busy, had meetings, a sermon to write and etc. Anticipating what I was going to say, she declared, “If it had been anyone else in the church, or outside of your family for that matter, you would have dropped everything immediately and listened. Now listen! As you are my pastor I need to tell you something. My husband is never at home, he is always busy, the kids never see him and he is working himself into an early grave.” She continued but I won’t bore you. Except, that her husband listened and changed his attitude. And now, whenever he is tempted to lose sight of his priorities, she simply says, “Can I make an appointment to see you?” Usually that is enough. The hint is loud and clear.

God has been good to me through my ‘better half’ but I still need to remind myself of that because often I take the people closest to me for granted. It is an insidious and nasty habit I have.

I believe it illustrates a larger problem that many of us encounter: we are blind to the manifold blessings that shower our lives. They can be physical, spiritual, relational and emotional – family, friends, neighbours, work colleagues, team mates. Rather than looking at the problems, issues, crises, conflicts and loads to carry, I know that I need to take stock often and starting very close to home, remember how God has blessed me.

If I am not careful my child bride may ask for an appointment.

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Our Lego Addiction

Posted on March 24, 2013 by Pieter Stok

There are many things I am nearly addicted to: cheese, ice cream, a good wine & etc. The fear of weight increase and clogged arteries keeps that controlled, but we have a family addiction. I don’t think I have written about it much. Our friends know about it and if they don’t approve they at least quietly acknowledge my/our condition and just mutter quietly among themselves.

100_9033This obsession revolves around plastic – a plastic block. Yes, you have guessed – Lego or as the Americans say Legos. We started the collection about 35 years ago. Now that our last daughter has fled from the house we can finally take it out of cupboards, from under beds and on top of wardrobes as, at last, we have a room to store it in.

Over the years we have found a myriad ways to justify collecting and building with this Danish building material. Here are some.

  1. We don’t have to think too hard for birthday and Christmas presents. Every second Christmas [odd years] is officially nominated as a Lego Christmas. There is not much point shaking the box to guess what is inside.
  2. P1020780It is an activity that the family can do together.
  3. It encourages creativity.
  4. Rather than having lots of toys, it is one toy that grows.
  5. It has allowed a dad who has six daughters (and now we are speaking of the distant past here) to lie on the floor playing with toys alongside his daughters without compromising his masculinity. (Side note: I promised myself a train-set when my first son was born. After three girls I went out and bought a train set anyway – a Lego train set so it would fit in with what the girls were doing.
  6. And now that we are home alone, my wife and I have something to play with. As the knees are not what they used to be, we don’t play with them on the floor any more.
  7. It was great toy for hand eye coordination when the girls were young. Now that we are getting older it helping my wife and me maintain our dexterity and test how far our eyesight has deteriorated.

The moral is: If you have an obsession or addiction, ensure that it is a healthy one.

Photos illustrating the illness can be found: http://www.flickr.com/photos/pstok/collections/72157613256264075/

P1030851

Categories: Family, Lego, Reflections, Uncategorized | Tags: | 7 Comments

If I Settle On The Far Side Of The Sea

Posted on March 18, 2013 by Pieter Stok

… if I settle on the far side of the sea … Psalm 139:9b

Psalm 139 resonates with migrants and in particular verse 9b: ” if I settle on the far side of the sea.” Leaving home and leaving everything that is familiar, family connections, friends, church, traditions and landmarks, is an amazingly brave move. I was only three and half years old when my parents upped anchor and moved to Australia.

The mental and emotional processes required to come to that decision were huge. Yes, I know that Holland was recovering from WW2 and work was difficult to find but travelling to a new unfamiliar land must have also been a daunting process. As I was growing up I remember a number of families returning to Europe and the UK. The wrench was too much. Some even came and returned a number of times.

In our first 15 years, before my parents had accumulated enough to purchase a house, let alone find money to visit the family, all my grandparents passed away. My parents had an opportunity later in life to return a few times but by that time parents and some family members had already passed on.

Now we live in a different world. One of my daughters travels to Australia every Christmas to visit us. That wasn’t an option 45 years ago.

Psalm 139 reminds us of a God who has a keen and intimate knowledge of, and love for, His children, even if they “settle on the far side of the sea.” As we approach Easter we are reminded that this same God loved us that much that he sent us His son to deal with our sinful condition and our separation from God.

From that perspective, the “far side of the sea” is not such a big deal. Our sinfulness was a far bigger gulf.

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The Christian and Generation Changes

Posted on March 9, 2013 by Pieter Stok

WHATEVERMuch is made of the various generations nowadays – from Baby boomers, to Gen X & Y and whatever other nomenclature is attached. What it tells us is that every generation is impacted by the previous generation and the social environment of the time. Baby-boomers arose out of the dust of war and entered a prosperous new age. “The Pill”, the sheer numbers of young people, wealth and education all had their impact. Today’s young people have a totally different set of influences that shape their view of themselves and the world.

My aim isn’t to analyse the influences on each generation, many sociologists and psychologists have done that, but rather, ask the question: What is the Christian response to this?

I would suggest that every era has had to weigh its life in the light of the gospel. In the time of the disciples, Greek and Roman culture were massive influences on the people of the day. They needed to ask, what is Godly and what isn’t? How has my thinking and behaviour, values and world-view  been influenced in ungodly ways by the environment in which I live? The apostle Paul continually reminds his readers about the culture from which they have come: “Therefore, remember that formerly you who are Gentiles by birth…”(Eph 2:11) “Formerly, when you did not know God, you were slaves to those who by nature are not gods.” (Gal 4:8)  “See to it that no one takes you captive through hollow and deceptive philosophy, which depends on human tradition and the elemental spiritual forces[a] of this world rather than on Christ.” (Col 2:8)

Paul is passionately aware that we are shaped by our environments – by the popular world-views of the day. He reminds his readers that it is time to be shaped by their new relationship with God through Christ. This is a radical (from the root up) new way of looking at life and the world.

Image:stickergiant.com

Image:stickergiant.com

That is no different for us or for our children. Our lives should be continually lived in the light of the gospel. Our use of time, wealth, gifts and talents, technology, leisure, social media, entertainment, relationships and so on, all need evaluation in the light of what it means to live a Christ-like life. Our very perspective of how we live life and why we live live life the way we do, should be anchored in Christ.

My dad grew up in the “radio” era, I grew up in the TV era and my kids in the IT and social media era. Each had different challenges and subsequent generations will have new challenges again. The one certainty in all of this is that Christ and the gospel don’t change. It is the constant lens through which every generation must look at the world in which it lives and ask the question: Does my life honour God?

Categories: christian, Christianity, Devotional, Ethics, Faith, Family, Uncategorized, World Views | Tags: , , | 7 Comments

Memories of Church No.4 – Conflict and Conclusions

Posted on March 8, 2013 by Pieter Stok

The last part – for the time being.

As I grew up, particularly in my teen years, I began to realise that Christians weren’t perfect and conflict was an inevitable part of church life. It became obvious that the words and actions of adults didn’t always match, and that motives were not always pure. One became aware of the cliques and groups – people with different attitudes, agendas or values.

In the early 1960s our church had a very conservative, very Dutch minister. In order to attend communion, which was held every three months, you needed to attend church twice a Sunday. My dad, also Dutch and stubborn, had refused to travel to Geelong twice a Sunday after his little church in Ocean Grove had been closed. “If they close my church, I am only going once!” So the scene was set for conflict. Every three months before communion my family would receive “huisbezoek” – a home visit by the elders and minister. I was allowed to attend the formalities: coffee, Bible reading and prayer. Then I was sent to my room. However I could still hear the “conversation” between my father and the minister clearly through the walls. Dad didn’t give in and neither did Dominee K.

As I stated earlier, Dominee K returned to Holland and we had a new minister who simply asked my dad, “Do you love the Lord?” To which my father replied, “Of course!” and so he was allowed to return to the communion table. And my father started going to church, twice on a Sunday!

The arrival of the Pentecostal movement had far more profound effects. The church became divided, some families split and there were married couples who lived in tension for decades to come, with the death of a partner greeted with relief rather than sorrow as it ended an unhealed past. The power of deeply held beliefs to unify is profound, but its power to divide is monumentally tragic.

Looking back, I can now see the attraction of the charismatic outbreak. There was a joy in God and worship, a recognition of the power of the Spirit and an overall enthusiasm for faith and outreach. At the time there were also excesses and extremism. But that was true of both sides. Both groups saw right on their side. I don’t want to enter into the theology of this division at this point but rather consider the attitudes that people held that didn’t reflect Christ. As a young person at the time I was bewildered. How could beliefs, people and values shift so quickly? On the other hand I was in a privileged position as the two key leaders on both sides of the debate had a profound impact on my life. They were both men who loved the Lord deeply. Their followers were not always that wise. Blacks were made blacker and whites whiter. I have come to reflect that we often justify our attitudes by hardening our positions. There are times when we may need to separate or part ways due to deep disagreements but this can still be done with grace and Christ-likeness. This is particularly true when the heart of the gospel is not compromised.

Over 45 years later, I now work in a school where fellow Christians from a wide variety of evangelical backgrounds respect each other’s differences and work together for the common good of Christ’s Kingdom and Christian education. These changes didn’t happen overnight. It took many, many years. I rejoice often that I have lived to see a day when the values of two men I respected dearly have come to coexist and empower the place where I work. More importantly, I believe because of this healthy co-operation, we can see Christ and His kingdom more clearly.

Hah! But that callow youth back in the late 1960s did not have clue of what God had in mind.

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Memories of Church No.3 – Methodists and Mayhem

Posted on March 7, 2013 by Pieter Stok

This is part 3 of my early recollections of church.

In the mid 1960’s the church to which I now belonged rented a Methodist church that only had a few members left. After a couple of years we purchased the building and added to our congregation a small number of aged Methodists who refused to leave the building they had been part of for their whole lives. One of the “fixtures” was Mr. Robinson who, in his earlier life, had shown 16mm films in the local schools. He was also an expert on first aid and was always willing to give our youth group demonstrations. As we had Dutch parents and grandparents, Mr Robinson was our connection with the new culture in which we lived.

This was also the time that I was starting to think about the future. God put in a number of factors: there was a teacher who urged me to apply for University, which, as I have explained in earlier blogs was light-years away from my parents’ experience, and there was Rev. Deenick who urged me to explore the concept of Christian education. Rev. D. didn’t hit me with all of that at once but over time we had discussions, and he urged me to read certain books and attend particular conferences and so when the time came, in the then, distant future, I was helplessly drawn into a group of people whose aim it was to set up a Christian school, and ended up being a Christian school teacher.

 At the time it seemed all so “accidental” but looking back Rev. Deenick and God were in close collaboration.

But I am racing ahead of myself. When I look back, being a Christian was a serous matter. It was not about having fun – and I am ok with that. Awe, obedience and doing things the right way were explicitly and implicitly drummed into us.

Then in the second half of the 1960s an upheaval occurred. One of the professors from the theological college (the “house” I mentioned previously) started teaching the doctrine of a second blessing with the baptism of the Holy Spirit*. To be blunt, theological war broke out and my parents were in the middle of it. As a teenager I pretended nothing was happening, after all, even though church was important there were also music, girls, cars and a bit of study to consider.

Little did I know then that this was part of the Pentecostal/Charismatic tsunami that was to hit Australian churches, and whether I liked it or not, I would have to reflect deeply on the Bible and what I believed.

* Both these men, Rev Deenick and Professor Schep, in opposing theological camps, are mentioned under my blog heading: Melchisedeks.

Categories: christian, Christianity, Church, Faith, Family, History, my dad, Reflections, Uncategorized | Tags: , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Memories of Church No. 2 or Coffee, Calvinism and Cigars

Posted on March 6, 2013 by Pieter Stok

Yesterday I started my reflections on growing up in a migrant church in the 1950s.  Today the story continues …

By my mid teen years we were worshiping in Geelong. This congregation, which was much larger, did not have its own building yet and had also moved several times – from a Temperance Hall (with amiable rats) to Church Halls. At this time I attended “Catechism classes”, also in relocated army huts. (A story for another occasion involves the Friday after school Catechism classes held at our home. But that deserves a special heading of its own). Previously we had  had Saturday Morning School. Every Saturday morning, (as the name suggests!) the children from Ocean Grove were herded into a windowless van my dad normally used to cart veggies, and were sent to a house in Geelong, which also doubled as a theological college, (these dutchies weren’t shy!) and we spent two hours learning about the Bible, Church History and creation while our Aussie friends played football, tennis or cricket. I must confess they were not my favourite two hours of the week. It was an attempt by  our parents and the church to compensate for the lack of Christian education,  not as I suspected at the time, a form of sadistic adult cruelty.

Around that time, due to the closure of our church, we started attending church in Geelong which had a very traditional dutch minister. When asked what the church was doing for evangelism, his honest reply was, “We open the doors of the church every Sunday.” He soon returned to Holland (and, I believe, to a “black stocking” church) and a new minister arrived who had a profound impact on my life. Rev. J.W. Deenick was a staunch Calvinist who had an amazing sense of the the Christian’s role in the Kingdom of God. With the gift of hindsight I realise that he planted some of that in me.

The church services were just as dull as usual – the hymns sober, the organ slow and not a

Image: Courtesy, Wikipedia

Image: Courtesy, Wikipedia

guitar in sight. I recall on one occasion being reprimanded by my dad for wearing corduroy trousers, “Would you visit the Queen wearing those pants?” “She hasn’t invited me,” I thought but didn’t dare express.  However, now with the new minister there were activities to get involved in; Holiday Clubs (or Vacation Bible Schools) to run and Beach Missions to organise during the summer. For a keen teenager this gave purpose to a Christian’s life. Looking back, it was a time when we began to shed our ethnic hangups and sought to become part of Australian society and bring our own unique contributions: coffee, Calvinism and cigars – not necessarily in that order.

All the while we still had our dreaded catechism classes after which followed the more enjoyable youth club time with its topical studies, business meeting and games – as well as meeting girls. This is where I discovered my wife – after a few false starts!

Tomorrow I want to explore my entry into Christian education.

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Memories of Church No 1.

Posted on March 5, 2013 by Pieter Stok

Some of my earliest memories centre on Church. In our small migrant community in Ocean Grove during the mid 1950s, our kitchen was the biggest room. So every Sunday the Reformed people would meet at our home. Sometimes a sermon was read and on occasions a visiting preacher would do the honours. My dad played an asthmatic reed organ that he had rescued from somewhere – possibly the tip.  He also  loved the once a month communion service because the bottle of left over wine was passed on to him – a real treat at a cashed strapped time! I imagine his only regret was that cigars were not part of the service!

Our family in that kitchen in about 1957. N.B. I was a blond in those days.

Our family in that kitchen in about 1957. N.B. I was a blond in those days.

When the community grew in size we moved to the “Methodist Camp” which had a hall large enough to accommodate the growing community. My brother was baptised there as a baby in 1956. Later it was the Anglican Church Hall. A time came when we built our own church building over the road from the Primary School. A disused army hut was moved on site and as funds became available it was rebuilt to serve as a multi use hall. The kids were able to help by carrying and painting and serving cups of tea and coffee.

However by the mid 1960s most of the dutch migrants had moved closer to Geelong and to places of work. The church closed and the building was relocated to another town for another small congregation.

This period of time, at the most encompassing 12 years, has warm memories for me. The overwhelming sense is one of community and cooperation. “New Australians” needed each other as they coped with the massive issues of arriving in a new land. For a while we shared a car with one of the other families. People helped each other out and the church building was just a small example of a bigger attitude of selfless service. When babies were born the rest of the children were farmed out – this was so “usual” for us and it was fun to have new brothers and sisters for a week.

This was my first memory of church. It was what I thought church was about. Years later as wealth entered the community and people became more independent something was lost.

But I like to dream. I remember the time when people walked from all corners of Ocean Grove just to come to our kitchen. I remember the laughter as the adults drank coffee and smoked (sorry – I have to tell the truth!) after the service. There were all these friends I could play with and we could take walks near the marshes along the river. That was Sunday and that was church. When I got back home and everyone had left I would find dad settling down with a glass of wine, and a cigar – if he was lucky.

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A New Beginning

Posted on February 16, 2013 by Pieter Stok

Today, Saturday, is 7 weeks since two of my daughters lost most of their possessions in an arson attack on the house they were renting. Lord willing, they will move into their own home today. The teams are set to clean the new house and others are moving “redeemed” belongings and new ones into their home.

It has been a time of learning. Did you know there are things called smoke sponges that act like smoke erasers on hard surfaces such as wooden furniture and book covers.? I didn’t. I do now! Plastic and rubber breathes in the smoke and you might as well throw it away.

I learned things about myself. The “old nature” is not as “dealt with” as I thought it was. Revenge, often cloaked as “justice” came to the surface frequently – particularly as I was trying to clean a loved item or the acrid smell of a smoky piece of furniture assaulted the nose. My thoughts were not fit for publication!

I also learned that exhaustion can take many forms and in some ways physical exhaustion is not the worst.

Another lesson re-learned is that God doesn’t waste any opportunities to sanctify us:

Image courtesy: System Hygiene

Image courtesy: System Hygiene

polishing us up to be more like Jesus. So if I have been scrubbing hard, God has been scrubbing harder!

So enough of this writing … It is time to work.

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Imagining More

Posted on February 9, 2013 by Pieter Stok

It is difficult to imagine something of which you have no experience.

I was reflecting on my parents the other day. My father’s schooling ended at primary school and my mother’s in early high school. By the time it was my turn to go to school my family had immigrated to Australia. Both my parents, but especially my father, stressed the importance of doing well at school. Bringing home a report card was, for me at least, never a pleasant experience. In my father’s opinion I could always have done better.

My father at school in the 1920s

My father at school in the 1920s

However there was a breakthrough when I was in form three (year 9). My average had gone down from the term before and I was very apprehensive but dad wasn’t angry. I asked him why. And he replied that he had seen me work solidly all term and if that was the best I could do then he was happy with that.

It was in the next year that formal external assessment began. In years 10 through 12 we had to sit external exams at the end of each year. My parents couldn’t help me. They were not only migrants but this was beyond their experience. Yet still I was encouraged to do my best. I got through to Form 6 (Year 12) and then applied for and was accepted into university. This was lightyears away from anything my parents had ever experienced. No one in the immediate family had ever gone this far. In all this they continued to encourage me.

Looking back, this encouragement was extremely important because it was all new to me too. But I am so grateful that even though this type of education was beyond my parents’ imagination it didn’t stifle them as they pushed me beyond their own experience. It is a lesson I think we can all learn from, that is, to have the courage to hope and strive for objectives we can hardly imagine. This can be true in our daily life and spiritual life, in our homes and work.

What do you dream for your children, grandchildren or students? What can you barely imagine but still hope for?

Categories: Family, Reflections, Uncategorized | Tags: , | 2 Comments

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