Om te Kerk of nie te Kerk nie

Moet die woord 'Kerk' nou wel in Hoofletters geskryf word? Dis die eerste vraag wat ek vir myself wil afvra as ek so na die opskrif kyk. Want kyk, wat is 'n kerk, waarna ek dan so peities na verwys in my opskrif.  Is dit nie maar 'n gebou van klip en klei en steen en strooi, waarin ons so graag ons God en ons gode wil aanbid nie?  'n Werk deur mensehande gemaak?  Want kyk, spreek die Here, Ek woon nie in geboue deur mensehande gemaak nie, maar in julle harte, daaardie diepste van julle wesens waar net Ek kan sien. (My parentesis)

Dan die groot vraag:  Wat se vraag is DIT dan nou?

Ek het hierdie vraag vir myself afgevra nadat ek nou al 'n paar dae/weke/maande lank die gespreksforum van 'n groot pinkster gemeente volg, waarin gedebateer word of die Kerk/die Plek/ die Mense reg of verkeerd is in hulle handelswyse van die afgelope dekade of meer.  Die geslagsregisters in die ou Testament is op hierdie stadium vir my meer interresant as die lang uitgestrekte motiferings vir en teen die arme 'Kerk', en die maalkolke wat ek nou onlangs op die Oranjerivier beleef het, het meer sin in gehad as die sterkste van die dialoe van die belangstellendes.

Hoe amper wou ek my (arme) stuiwer in die armbeurs gooi, maar ek dink my opvoeding staan hier sterker as my geloofsoortuigings.  So-by-so was my gedagtes so sterk in die debat (of dit nou vir of teen is is debateerbaar), dat my vingers kromgetrek het van nie weet waar om te begin nie, terwyl hulle oor die toetsbord gehang het.

Tog moet ek erken , dat die magtelose gevoel van teleurstelling in die oningeligtes se 'feite' en my medelye met die ingeligtes se ervarings in die 'Kerk', het 'n wrang smaak van hier-is-groot-fout in my maag en in my mond gelos het.  Ek dink Jesus het verwys na 'eindelose strydvrae', maar tog is hier soveel meer ter sprake.

Sonder 'n lang relaas, wil ek net vra:  Wat doen mens as jy WEET die plek van aanbidding, waar jy jou grootste deel van jou geestelike lewe deurgebring het, nie is wat dit moet wees nie, en jy weet nie hoe om die oningeligtes daaroor te waarsku nie.  Hulle is dan so opreg in hulle aanhang/toewyding/lojaliteit aan die plek/Kerk/beweging/of wat ook al, dat jy nie DURF raak aan hulle heiligdomme nie!

Sal ek verwaand wees as ek sou se dat dit makliker is om 'n  Katoliek te oortuig dat die Roomse kerk die Groot Hoer is waarvan Johannes in Openbaringe na verwys, as om die lojale aanhangers te waarsku van hulle 'Kerk' se dwalinge?  Hoe gou is mense nie om te se: "Haal jou oe van die MENSE af" sonder om te besef dat die MENSE die enigste spieel is waardeur die wereld die GODheid kan raaksien?  As die oog dan duister geword het, hoe diep is die duisternis dan nie?  Wanneer on ligste ligstraal soos 'n kolesak in die melkweg hang, hoe duister is die duisternis daaragter dan nie?  Waar is die Pauluse van ons tyd wat nog met 'n oop gesig kan se:  "Kyk na my, want ek lewe soos Christus lewe"  Hy MAAK homself 'n wandelende advertesie vir die grootheid van die Godheid.  Tog is die profete van ons tyd die eerstes om hulle gemeente te waarsku:  Moenie na my kyk nie - ek is slegs lippe van klei, 'n  swakkeling, feilbaar!  En die lig-donkerte word net nog donkerder.

 En ek?  Sal ek my dan tot struikeling bring deur die onvermoe van my (geestelike) leiers om my te lei?  Hoe wonderlik dat God my geskape het met die vermoe om te onderskei, te kan kies, en met hierdie wonderlike verstand van my keuses te kan maak met die nugterheid wat aangehelp word deur die inspirasie van Sy grote Liefde en Soete Heilige Gees.  Sal ek in die duisternis rondtas en vra:  Waar is die Lig?  Nee, nee, tienduisend maal nee!!  Ek sal my oe oopmaak en opkyk na die Lig, van waar my hulp en leiding kom............

Want dan hoef ek nie meer te Kerk, of NIE te Kerk nie.  Daar is nie plek in Sy Liggaam vir 'n Kerk nie; vir Leerstellings of Ideologie nie.  Net Kinderlike Nederige Gehoorsaamheid.  Dit is die 'Kerk' wat Hy vir ons voorgehou het hier op aarde.  En sodra my voorgangers nie daardie pad volg nie, hoekom moet ek hulle dan navolg, of na hulle luister?

Al is hulle soorde en preke hoe mooi..................

I LOVE CHERISH THE OLD NARROW PATHS!

THE OLD PATHS: I liked the old paths, when Moms were at home. Dads were at work. Brothers went into the army. And sisters got married BEFORE having children! 

Crime did not pay; Hard work did; And people knew the difference. 

Moms could cook; Dads would work; Children would behave. 

Husbands were loving; Wives were supportive; And children were polite.

Women wore the jewellery; And Men wore the pants. Women looked like ladies; Men looked like gentlemen; And children looked decent. People loved the truth, And hated a lie; They came to church to get IN, Not to get OUT! 

Hymns sounded Godly; Sermons sounded helpful; Rejoicing sounded normal; And crying sounded sincere. 

Cursing was wicked; Drugs were for illness; And divorce was unthinkable. 

The flag was honoured; West Africa was beautiful; And God was welcome! 

We read the Bible in public; Prayed in school; And preached from house to house To be called an African was worth dying for; To be called a Christian was worth living for; To be called a traitor was a shame! 


Preachers preached because they had a message; And Christians rejoiced because they had the VICTORY! Preachers preached from the Bible; Singers sang from the heart; And sinners turned to the Lord to be SAVED!

A new birth meant a new life; Salvation meant a changed life; Following Christ led to eternal life. 

Being a preacher meant you proclaimed the word of God; Being a deacon meant you would serve the Lord; Being a Christian meant you would live for Jesus; And being a sinner meant someone was praying for you! 

Laws were based on the Bible; Homes read the Bible; And churches taught the Bible. 

God was worshiped; Christ was exalted; And the Holy Spirit was respected.. 

Church was where you found Christians on the Lord's day, rather than in the garden, on the creek bank, on the golf course, Or being entertained somewhere else. I still like the old paths the best!


"I must work the works of Him that sent me, while it is day: the night cometh, when no man can work." (John 9: 4)
"The Old Paths" was written by a retired minister who lives In Tennessee

THE WAGES HAD NOT DEPRICIATED AND THERE IS STILL ONLY ONE WAY TO HEAVEN AND THE PATH TO HEAVEN IS STILL NARROW NOT WIDE

Eienskappe van die Christelike karakter

Uit: Die brief aan die Filippense

Paulus, wat aan die einde van sy lewe staan, skryf 'n vaderlike, liefdevolle brief aan die Filippense, waarin hy die karaktereienskappe van 'n volgeling van Jesus die Christus vir hulle voorhou.  Dit is vir my so treffend dat hy sy brief eindig met die vlg: "Wat julle geleer, ontvang, gehoor, in my gesien het, doen dit, en die God van Vrede sal met julle wees" (4:9)  Hy hou dus nie net waardes voor nie, maar verklaar dat hy as voorbeeld gehou kan word in die uitleef daarvan.  Wat 'n persoonlike getuienis!

Paulus begin in hoofstuk 1 met 'n gebed vir sy kinders in die geloof, waarin hy bid om die versterking van hulle geloof en in die eienskappe wat hy aan hulle voorhou, en gaan oor in v.27 met 'n paar liefdevolle waarskuwings:

a)  om waardiglik te wandel vlgns die Evangelie van Christus;
b)  om standvastig en beslis te bly in hulle oortuigings;
c)  om in eenheid saam te staan;
d)  en onbevrees te wees vir die teenstand wat hulle heel moontlik vir hulle geloof sal ontvang

 Dan begin hy aan hulle die karakter eienskappe voorhou wat onderskei kan word van die Vrugte van die Gees, wat alleen van die Gees van God in 'n mens ingeplant word, teenoor hierdie eienskappe wat 'n beoefening en ontwikkeling van 'n goddelike karakter bewerkstellig:

1)  Eensgesindheid  (2:1)
2)  Onselfsugtigheid  (2:3)
3)  Nederigheid  (2:3)
4)  Diensbaarheid  (2:4)
5)  Eie heil uit te werk  -  met vrees en bewing (2:12)
6)  Gewilligheid  (2:14) "...sonder murmurering en teespraak, deur vas te hou aan die woord van die  lewe" (v16)
7)  Blydskap (in die Here)  (3:1)
8)  Totale oorgawe  (3:7)
9)  Toekomsvisie (3:14)  "vergeet die dinge wat agter is, en strek my uit na wat voor is"

Dan kom 'n samevatting, en soos die gebruik in daardie tyd, as jy die belangrikheid van iets wou nadruk, het jy dit herhaal:

1.  Blydskap in die Here  (4:4)
2.  Vriendelikheid
3.  Onbesorgd, deur gebed en smeking met danksegging
4.  En dan:
    Alles wat WAAR is,
    Alles wat EERBAAR is,
    Alles wat REGVERGIG is,
   Alles wat REIN is,
   Alles wat LIEFLIK is,
   Alles wat LOFLIK is,
                 Watter deug en watter lof daar ook mag wees, BEDINK DIT !


En dan maar net weer as bevestiging, kan Paulus sy eie lewe voorhou as voorbeeld, want hy weet dat hy in Christus geleef het, en sy lewe NA Christus gewys het, deurdat hy al hierdie dinge beoefen en uitgeleef het teenoor almal:  ja, selfs die wat hom mishandel, bewaar het in die gevangenis, en op die einde ook gekruisig het.  Wat 'n liefde!  Wat 'n lewe!

The Return

For many years it happened time and again, without change - even the workers would notice it, throwing a knowing glance at each other, but never saying a word.  Not even the strain of years of hard work and the slowing of movement that come with age, made a difference: the flicker of hope that shone in the farmers' eyes as looked up every time a vehicle passed on the dirt-road in the distance.

As the sun burnt harshly overhead, and the lines around his ever-searching eyes deepened, that flicker of hope never changed, never faltered.

When the strength to work had left his weary body, the farmer would sit on the porch of the stately farmhouse, from where the workers were ever aware of his gaze on them - and on the road.  Over the years they, too, have come to pause at the sound of a passing vehicle, quickly looking up at the road, and then quickly at the farmer, before they continued with whatever labour was to be done.  At times the farmer would rise quickly, walk to the steps of the porch, and shielding his eyes against the sun, stare into the distance, only to return to his chair once the vehicle had disappeared into the distance.

Over the following years, very little changed.  The workers didn't care to look up any more.  Why would they?  Nothing ever happened.  But something in the farmer also changed.  He didn't care to notice the workers any more.  He only stared at the distant road, as if he knew his days of waiting are running out, as his life was coming to an end, and he needed every bit of strength he had left in him to keep his hopes and his gaze on that long road that stretched into the distance....

It was late one afternoon, when they heard it.  Startled, they didn't know where to look first.  They realised that the old farmer was running, but at first they couldn't see why.  Then the first one saw it, and pointed to the gate.  The others saw it too, and dropped their tools in wonder and amazement:  There, coming through the gate, was a lonely, bent figure, carrying only the burden of a very long, lonely road he had left behind.  The old farmer never stopped running, calling, crying, till at last he reached the lonely figure.

Then, all they could see from that distance, was the lonely figure disappearing in the overwhelming embrace of the old, happy farmer, and all they could hear was the cry of joy for years of waiting that had, at last, come to an end.

The Baker

The baker was well-known and well-loved in his village.  Even from neighbouring towns' people would make an extra journey to the baker, as there was always a little extra to be received for their effort:  the raisin-loaves had extra raisins, the croissants were slightly bigger (and definitely tastier), and the savouries always a feast for the eye.  Then there was the widow that might find more than the required change in her purse, or the struggling family would discover an extra bagel or two in their bag.

New-Born's were introduced to him before their own grand-parents met them,  or a new little puppy was shown off before it was taken home (It's OK - I'll clean the puddle!). And be sure to know that no child would leave the bakery without something sweet in the cheek!

His welcoming smile and the cosy cinnamon-and-maple atmosphere of the bakery would invite even the loneliest traveller to pop in for something to eat, and soon little family secrets or private burdens would be shared with the baker - for there was always time to listen and a friendly word to all and any that passed on their need...

Yes, the baker was well-loved by all.


Every evening, as soon as darkness falls, the baker would draw the curtains of his bakery, lock the door, and take the back stairs to his home above the bakery. First he would enter his little girls' bedroom, straighten the bed sheets, and as usual, he would hug the pillow tight to his chest, trying to breathe in any possible remains of her presence.  How many years is it now?  He tries not to remember the last day she waved good-buy, never to return from that tragic school-outing. Gently he would replace the pillow, touch the smiling face in the bedside picture-frame, and ever-so-softly close the door.

At his son's door he would pause a moment, as if to enter.  Drawn by the city lights, and visits that were few and far in between, all that remained behind that closed door was the painfully agonising longing of a father for his son.  Lately there was even talk of a transfer to the big America, so far, far away....

The last room he entered, was dark, with curtains drawn, and the muffled breathing of his terminally ill wife was all that could be heard.  He draws the covers over her shoulders, lovingly planting a soft kiss on her forehead, enjoying her silent presence while he still may.

And from somewhere deep, very deep within his being, a sob would rise, slipping unexpectedly over his lips, muffled in a sigh.  It is so soft, so very soft,  that it is heard only by the solemn darkness that covers the upstairs room of the bakers' house.  Then he bows his head in a soft, brocken prayer.

Berlin

Berlin

How do I start to describe Berlin?
 If I was  a painter my pallet would be neutral - not dark, not light.  It would most probably be a pre-rennaisance theme -cold tones and hard lines, with the clean strokes of restoration and recovery, but only as a decorative motive.  It would be an unfinished work, as the top clean overlay of clear varnish would not be able to conceal the dark undertones working itself effortlessly to the surface.  There would be movement -slow, persistant movement of intense distraction -  a constant momentum - but it would only be seen by those standing still long enough to recognise it.
 As a sculptor, my medium would be a solid, bold work of hard concrete ( interlined with steel and barbed wire), laced with art-deco structures  in stone and steel. I might just ad the three-pointed joker's hat somewhere, but it would hardly be visible, and something would constantly try to conceal it.  My theme would capture all the emotions of a lover's loss, with all the futile attempts to find it again.
And if I could write?  No, my story would be to dark to read.  The intricate lines of pain and anger, intertwined with the sadness of a loss of love and hope would be to agonising to the reader, and the lack of a happy ending would leave the reader breathless, sad, and lonely - as if you had spent the day in one of the busiest cities of the world, your shoulders bruised as you forced your way through the crowds, your feet hurting while you searched for a ray of hope, warmth, love,  but found none ( even though the streets were lined with inviting love-escapes).
No matter how many love parades or gay celebrations - nothing could hide the hurting heart of a city marked with the deep scars of war and pain.  The years of bloodshed, tears and fear could never be washed away - and the stark reminders of a Check Point Charly and its relevant museums and shops and the remaining wall would always stand starkly above all else.  All the thousands of tourists gathered in rows, marched through the dark house of rememberance, taking foto's with youths dressed up in the military apparel of the time, are only there to be reminded of the cruelty of man toward man.  But do they see the lines engraved in the walls, made by the tears of the people that once lived and died there?  Do they feel the soul of a people hurting, as if caught in a cage, bounded by the chains of inhumanity?
I was there - and glad to have been - but I have left with a bit of the scar of Berlin on my mind.  And in my heart I know that it will always be a reminder of what still lies ahead for us - people will never change, and the signs of our behavour - one to another - will ever become another museum to show us just what we are............

I SURRENDER ALL................?

Twee verhale in die Bybel wat parallel teenoor mekaar staan, en in soveel opsigte verband hou met mekaar, is die verhaal van die ryk jong man (Mark 10:16-30) en die van Ananieas en Saffira (Hand.5 : 1-11) 

Die ryk jong man kom in eerbied na die Here, soekend na die ewige lewe.  Hy is 'n wetsgehoorsame burger in elke opsig - in so 'n mate dat Jesus hom "aankyk en hom innig liefgekry het".  Ongelukkig het hy nie kans gesien om die laaste (en moontlik die grootste) opoffering in sy lewe te maak nie - hy moes alles neerle en sonder enige aanhangsels na Jesus kom, en Hom volg.
Toe hy omdraai en wegloop, kyk Jesus rond en maak die bekende stelling:..dit is makliker vir 'n kameel ...(25)
In my hart glo ek dat Jesus self in sy hart bedroef was toe die jongman wegloop, en nie net sy skouers argeloos geskud het asof Hy nie omgee dat die man net wegloop nie.  Ek glo dat Hy hom nog lank en met nog steed die 'innige liefde' aangekyk het, want Jesus het geweet: Daar is nog 'n prys wat Hy self sou moes betaal, ook VIR daardie jongman.  En miskien, net miskien, sal daardie man, as hy dalk op daardie dag by die kruis te staan sou kom en die Man daar sien hang wat hom so liefdevol aangekyk het, sal hy dalk, net dalk verstaan wat dit beteken om 'alles' te gee : dat dit meer gaan as net die aardse besittings wat vir hom soveel werd was.  Alles gee is my alles, my volkome self. Daar was dus vir die man nog 'n kans.....

Maar nou eers na Annanias en Saffira.
Hulle het alles beleef : die kruisiging; die opstanding en hemelvaart; die uitstorting vd Heilig Gees; en was deel van die gemeenskap van gelowiges wat in hulself niks terug gehou het nie, maak ook in niks behoeftig was nie (Hand. 4: 34)  Tekens, wonders en magtige getuienisse het voor hulle plaasgevind.  Daar was geen eise aan hulle gestel nie, en hulle kon deel aan die heerlikheid van die eerste gemeente se samesyn.  Maar omdat Joses in Hand. 4 : 36 so geseend was in sy onbaatsugtige handeling, en hy die erkenning daarvoor voor die hele gemeente ontvang het, wil Annanias en Saffira ook bietjie van hierdie eer ontvang.  Hulle kyk dus teen die daad van gee vas, en sien nie die hart agter die daad nie. 

Toe die ryk jongman van Jesus af wegloop, was sy hart nog vas aan sy besittings; tog het Jesus geweet dat Hy in Sy grote liefde, en deur die Soete Heilige Gees, wel nog 'n kans het om die hart van die jongman aan te raak.  Daar was tog immers 'n soeke na waarheid in die man se hart..........

Maar Annanias en Saffira het klaar daardie ontmoeting met die Here gehad; was klaar deel van die gemeente van Christus, en tog nie bereid om alles oor te gee of af te gee nie.  Christus het klaar die voorbeeld gestel; en daagliks was die getuienisse voor hulle van die seen van gehoorsaamheid.  Nog was die vrees in hulle harte, dat as hulle 'alles' sou afgee, hulle niks meer sou oorhe vir hulself nie.  In die proses verloor hulle dan nie net alles waaraan hulle vasklou nie, maar ook hulle LEWE !!

***********************

Wanneer ek in my eie lewe kyk na die tye wat ek geestelik 'dood' was, besef ek dis die tye wat ek teruggehou het - nie my alles gegee het nie, of nie volkome wou oorgee nie:- bang dat ek dalk my mens-wees sal verloor in die proses.  En tog het ek dan in die proses van 'teerughou' my wese, my sin vir bestaan en voortgaan, verloor.

En kyk ek so na die kerk van Christus hier op aarde, wonder ek wat Hy sien as Hy so na ons kyk : manne en vroue wat nie meer die hart van 'GEE' verstaan nie;  nie verstaan dat hoe meer jy gee, hoe meer jy ontvang nie;  wat dit is is om alles te gee. En wat ons deur ons manier van gee, ontvang nie.  

Het Hy dan nie die voorbeeld so duidelik gestel nie?

Dan is ek nie verbaas dat daar soveel 'dooie' lede in die Liggaam van Christus is nie.  Soveel mense wat net 'aanhangsels' geword het; kragtelose wolke wat soos 'n dooie gewig aan die Liggaam hang.  Mense wat ophou 'gee' het, of erger nog:  NIE HULLE ALLES WIL GEE NIE, EN ANDER VERHINDER OM DIESELFDE TE DOEN !!  (en dan met 'n selfversekerheid in die Heiligdom ingaan, sonder om te besef dat hulle in hulle harte reeds die dood ontvang het)

Was jy maar liewer koud of warm...................!!

Hy het Sy ALLES vir ons gegee; Sy volkome alles !! 

Want Hy het geweet dat Hy ook daardeur weer ALLES sou ontvang:  ONS !!