Back from Synod and Alpha camp

This past few days was hectic, what with Synod being from Thursday to Saturday lunchtime, and then on to the Alpha camp from Saturday afternoon to today. I'm tired, cold, smelling of braai smoke, but generally feeling quite good about life at the moment, because of the following things that have happened these past few days:

1. A Synod resolution dealing with the Supernumerary Fund and proposals for the use / establishment of other finds within the MCSA that I spent a fair amount of time drafting (with the weight of paper nearly breaking my toe when I dropped it!) was accepted virtually verbatim by the Synod, with one or two minor tweaks. It's good to know that despite having moved on from the accountancy profession into ministry, I am still able to disect a set of financial statements. Accounts tend to be like bikinis, in that what they reveal is interesting but what they conceal can drive you insane!

2. Having expressed my anxiety concerning next year, what with the uncertainty around College, wanting to relocate my family, etc. on the floor of Synod, I'm glad that the Bishop has undertaken to address the matter personally before he attends an EMMU meeting in July. There were no concrete answers emanating from Synod, but realistically I couldn't have expected more. I'm however grateful to Bishop Musi Losaba for showing concern and understanding.

3. I met some AMAZING people at Synod - the van der Laars, John Gillmer, Brian Jennings, Peter Woods, and many more - you all spoke such wisdom into my life. Thanks too to John and Debbie van der Laar for allowing me to be part of worship - it was a truly uplifting experience. In fact, this is what makes Synod actually worthwhile.

4. I turned 40 (on Thursday the 28th), and Debbie van der Laar said I looked 35! I KNEW there was something I liked about that lady!

5. I went from Synod straight to our Alpha camp, where I had the privilege of praying for people and seeing the Holy Spirit move in their lives in a mighty and incrediible way. Lives were definitely changed this weekend!

And so, despite the many difficulties and challenges, I truly believe that the call to ministry is stronger than ever. I just cannot imagine doing anything else with my life, and I pray that I can remain God's humble servant. I still find it astounding that God would choose a broken, impervect vessel such as me to carry out this awesome responsibility - I guess that it really IS true that God uses the foolish to confound the wise!

God is good! All the time!

Been quiet, and will be quiet for a bit...

I've been a bit scarce on the blog for the past few days, and will remain so until next week. That's not because nothing's been happening, but with College being closed this week I've taken advantage of the two days and buried myself in assignments. Having put a SERIOUS dent into two of them, it's been time well spent.

For the next three days I'll be at Synod, followed by a day and a bit on our Alpha camp. But watch out next week, 'cos I'll have LOTS to share!

And these idiots want to run the country in future?

I'm not a big commentator on political issues, but this interview by Redi Direko of 702 Talk Radio, trying to get some sense out of the ANC Youth League's Floyd Shivambu, really takes the cake.

The scary thing is that this wally simply refused to answer a straight-forward question. Is he unable or unwilling to provide a coherent answer? And these are the guys who have aspirations of running the country in years to come?

Listen to the interview, and decide for yourself. DA leader Helen Zille's lawyers must be licking their lips as we speak!

Day off

After an absolutely miserable weekend weather-wise, today has arrived with brilliant blue skies, no "W-word" (old cycling superstition whereby we don't mention that stuff that blows you off your bike), and not too cold, either.

And that's not all - there's more! Unlike in my secular job, where one normally spends beautiful Mondays driving to work, being in the ministry means that Monday is my day off!

God is SO good!

Why I left the auditing profession

I was wading through some of my old Toastmasters speeches looking for some sermon illustrations, and came across this speech that I did in about 2005 when I was still under the influence of pineapple beer. When you read this, you will understand why I left the auditing profession...

The story that you are about to hear is absolutely true. No names and places have been changed, since there were no innocent people involved.

This is my job. My name is Steven. I work in an office. I am … an auditor!

There! I said it. Now that you all know, please don’t think any worse of me.
What is an auditor, anyway? Some say that he is someone who arrives after the battle is over, and starts bayoneting all the wounded.

I’m not sure when I started on the long, slippery road to becoming an auditor. Some say that it was that pineapple beer that I imbibed in Standard 8 that started it all. Others believed that my personality was too volatile to become an actuary. Still others believed that I didn’t have a personality at all. And here was me thinking that I didn’t have any friends because I was too busy working.

It all started in 1990, when I decided that I wanted to enter this so-called noble profession. Someone told me that auditors earn obscene amounts of money. If I had actually done my homework properly, I would have spent the first two years of my articles packing beer trucks at SA Breweries instead of playing “accountant – accountant”. That is because those fine folks at SAB were earning a lot more than I was during my first two years, and besides, they didn’t have to drink the tea in our office, either.

Speaking of the tea, the venerable gentleman who made the tea in our office each day was the only man on earth who could burn water. I’m convinced that our tea was of the 1-2-3 variety – one part tea, two parts water, and three parts Cremora. It was such beverages that fortified us for our attack on the big bad world.

And a bad world it was, too. The inappropriately named South African Revenue Service was known as the Receiver of Revenue in those days. At least that was its official name. We used to call it the “Deceiver of Robbin’ You”, and this may have had something to do with the name change.

Their offices were in that dark, dingy hovel at the top of Rissik Street (in downtown Johannesburg) in those days, and there must have been about a hundred doors in that place. The perfect environment for a bit of fun – at the expense of one of our first-year clerks. One fine day, we decided to send her down there for a “Tax Evasion Form”, which resulted in her spending a rather fruitless afternoon exploring the building. “No, sorry, Ma’am, we doesn’t have dose forms, dey must be at Counter Free.” She would then go to Counter Three and be told, “No, youse can’t get dem here, you will have to go to Room 101.”

I haven’t heard anything from her since her arrest, but I understand that she will be let out of prison any day now.

We had some rather interesting clients as well – like old Mr Beinashowitz at Thistledown Knitwear, or Tinseltown as we used to call it. He was a wonderful old soul, but there was one thing that you NEVER asked old Mr B – especially at about twenty past four in the afternoon, when you were packing up to leave: “So how was your recent holiday in Israel?” “Ahh ... Israel is a very interesting country,” he would reply, and then go on to tell you about his latest holiday. The record was about a quarter to seven that we left the one night, courtesy of the Israeli Tourism Bureau.

Then there was Mr Chaim Goldsmith of SA Weatherwear. This company made those baby poo brown safari suits that the Boere used to wear on the railways. We arrived at his factory the one day to check the stock, and the conversation went something like this:
SJ: “Good morning, Mr Goldsmith. Do you have the stock figures for us, please”
CG: “You vant ze stock figures?”
SJ: “Yes, please.”
CG: “You vant to know vot ze stock figure should be?”
SJ: “Yes, please.”
CG: “Vot do you vont it to be?”

Another clerk was doing the petty cash audit, and asked Mr Goldsmith for some vouchers. “Aah, some vouchers?” He opened his desk drawer, and hauled out a pile of vouchers, gave them to the clerk, who started beavering away at them. He then came back, and asked for some more vouchers. “Aah, some more vouchers?” said Mr Goldsmith, who then opened the second drawer and hauled out another pile of vouchers – this pile smelling a bit musty. Two hours later, the clerk sidled across to my desk, and said, “The old bugger’s given me too many vouchers. What do I do now?”

Worse still was the stock audit at a client in rural Swaziland. The client was ostensibly a hardware store, but they in fact sold anything, ranging from tractor tyres to wooden coffins, and it was with one of the coffins that I had a rather unfortunate encounter. Clambering up onto one of the shelves, I lost my footing, and fell on top of the coffin, split the lid lengthways, and came to rest right inside the coffin.

For the rest of the audit, none of the locals wanted to even come near me.

My most harrowing audit experience, however, was when I was sent to a flour mill in Bronkhorstspruit. This client had the ghastliest archive room in the world – old bags of flour, rats running around – and the partner asked me to fetch the Verbal Agreements File. And come hell or high water, I was going to find it!

I have since left the audit profession, deciding instead to settle for a quieter life clearing landmines in Mozambique. However, to those brave men and women, and their proud laptops, I dedicate the following poem:

A man knocked on the Heavenly Gates, his face was lined and old.
He stood before the man of faith to seek admission to the fold.
"What have you done," St. Peter asked, "to seek admission here?"
He said, "Sir, sir, I've been an auditor, for many and many a year."
The Pearly Gates swung open wide, St. Peter rang the bell.
"Come in and choose your harp," he said, "You’ve had your share of hell."

The bias of a heterosexual male

"You never truly know someone until you have walked a mile in their shoes" - Anonymous

Yesterday at College we had a second session dealing with the link between spirituality and sexuality, in which we went through parts of a discussion document issued a couple of years back by DEWCOM (the Doctrine, Ethics, and Worship Committee of the Methodist Church of Southern Africa) dealing with our attitudes as Christians towards those of same-sex orientation.

It's a most difficult debate, made all the more confusing by the fact that there are sincere, well-researched positions across the entire spectrum of positions. Right now I have on my PC's hard drive 20 documents from MCSA sources (individual ministers, DEWCOM, Conference resolutions, etc.) as well as 37 documents from non-MCSA sources. This excludes the countless number of publications that I have read, of which I have not kept copies.

And to be honest, I'm more confused than ever.

This morning my heart was torn in two when I read a good friend's blog, as I do most mornings - in particular, his post entitled "Time to take my stand". And after reading this heart-wrenching post, I realised that underlying all the debates, positions, theology, "proof texts", discussion documents, arguments, and the like, one easily loses sight of the fact that there are real people, with real hurts, who are affected by all this.

Not having walked in his shoes (and those of his ex-wife), I cannot begin to imagine the anguish that they have gone through (and are probably still going through).

For me this whole thing is still a journey and a struggle, and today I need to be honest and admit that there are aspects of same-sex relationships that I cannot conceptualise, for no other reason than that I am a heterosexual male in a "conventional" marriage relationship with a heterosexual female. (Note that these biases are male-centric simply because I am a male. Nothing in this post should be construed as wishing to exclude females, but being of the male gender I have a limited understanding even about how females feel about heterosexual intimacy, let alone that of same-sex orientation.)

1. As a heterosexual male I cannot imagine myself in a physical relationship with another man. For as long as I can remember, I've been physically attracted to girls.

2. I find physical contact with other males difficult and awkward. I'll shake another man's hand, and even hug another man, but that's as far as it goes. I do not kiss my son (although I hug him plenty). Holding my son's hand is okay (he is 11), but I squirm when I hold an adult male's hand (even when we say "the grace" in church). The only time I as an adult male have ever kissed another adult male was the day I got my Matric results, and upon seeing that I had schieved university entrance, bounded down the school steps and planted a smacker on my best friend's cheek.

3. Seeing two men holding hands makes me feel extremely uncomfortable (even in cultural contexts where this act does not denote anything sexual). Two men kissing causes me to turn my head. The thought of more intimate physical contact between two men

4. I have two gay friends, with whom I have had lengthy and indepth discussions about issues of sexuality. I have no problem with normal social interaction, and have absolutely no fear that either one of them would be attracted to me in a sexual way. I have even been in social settings where the friend's partner has been present, and have interacted socially with the partner as well. However, I have never been present when they have shown any signs of physical affection towards one another, and would not know how it would affect me if such signs were to be shown (unlike the case with my heterosexual friends, especially the married ones, who hug and kiss in my presence with no effect on me whatsoever). Obviously I'm not talking sex here - that's something intimate and private, and quite frankly, I don't want to see ANY of my friends having sex, whether of the heterosexual or same-sex variety!

These inbuilt "biases" (for want of a better word) will undoubtedly be a powerful force in shaping whatever view I may have about same-sex relationships. The questions I have to ask myself, though - and this is part of the journey - are:
- Are these biases consistent with my understanding of what Scripture says concerning the relationship itself (and in particular, the physical expression thereof)?
- Do I actually base my feelings on Scripture, or on these biases?
- Do these biases block me in any way from ministering to those of same-sex orientation? Specifically, do I keep the commandment of Jesus to "love one another, just as I have loved you"? Do these biases prevent me from obeying Christ?
- Do these biases cause me to hurt, rather than love, those of same-sex orientation?
- Do I actually have any concept of the hurt and pain that many people of same-sex orientation experience because of such biases?
- Do these biases (in isolation) give me the right to condemn those who hold different views because they are not similarly biased? (I believe not).
- Do these biases contribute to my current position that I cannot see myself as a minister consenting to marry a same-sex couple?

An honest stand on this issue (and any other issue, for that matter) needs to be based on a sincere desire to honour God, in a Christian loving attitude, and after much prayer and reflection. To base a position on inherent biases is a cop-out, a short-cut, and one based on man's reasoning rather than God's Spirit.

Whatever my stand as a Christian and as a minister is (or may become), I confess and repent before Almighty God that my attitudes and biases may have caused hurt. That I have not loved as Jesus loved. That I have not cared as Jesus would have me care. That I too have been guilty of snide comments and off-colour jokes concerning those of same-sex orientation. That I have approached this issue intellectually and theologically, without regard to the real people concerned. And that I have not always listened to those who hold different views to mine.

Hanno and Alet, you remain in my prayers, as always.

The journey continues...

Tempered cynicism, and looking at the bright side of life

I met with my Learning Partnership last night, as we do each month, and last night's meeting was mainly to discuss my progress thus far as a Phase One, and to go through the small forest of trees that have been cut down and transformed into reports for Synod. Some of the questions require quite a bit of soul-searching, especially those that I am required to answer for myself. One such example was a question on how I see myself. I answered that I am generally quite an upbeat, optimistic person tainted by a degree of cynicism carried over from my days as an auditor.

There are times that this cynicism comes out when I look at the Church, as some of my previous blog posts will have revealed. And there are many things going on that cause me great distress. But last night at the home cell meeting, my mind went back to a conversation that I had with my Superintendent this past Sunday, in which he said that whatever he may have encountered at the hands of the institution at large over the past 36 years that he has been in ministry, what keeps him going and true to his call is the sense of service to the local church community. While the local church context is not without its problems, there are also many, many salt-of-the-earth people who love Jesus with every fibre of their being and wish only to serve Him.

And as I got into the shower this morning, I remembered something that I read in my son's school newsletter about five years ago. Responding to a question concerning drug abuse - a problem that, sadly, plagues most schools and private schools in particular (because the kids have easier access to the money needed to buy the junk, perhaps?) - the headmaster was quite candid in saying, "yes, we have had the odd learner involved with drug abuse, and this is how we deal with the problem". He then proceeded to list the measures taken by the school, including awareness programmes, counselling, and so forth.

I remember thinking at the time that I would rather have the headmaster acknowledge that there is a problem and take active steps to deal with it, rather than to stick his head in the sand and deny that such problems exist in the first place.

And so it is with the Church. I can only speak for the Methodist Church of Southern Africa, for that is the institution I serve as a probationer minister, but I have no doubt that every church on God's great earth has problems of some sort. How can it be otherwise? They are imperfect institutions, run by imperfect people, trying their best to serve a perfect God.

So where do I go from here? I'm not going to deny the problems that I encounter - that would be like putting my head in the sand. Rather - just like the headmaster of my son's school - I'm going to continue to acknowledge the things I encounter. But more importantly, I'm going to channel that energy into doing something about it. Starting with prayer.

George Bernard Shaw said: "The reasonable man adapts himself to the conditions that surround him... The unreasonable man adapts surrounding conditions to himself... All progress depends on the unreasonable man."