Monthly Archives: November 2018

Answers to the real questions

Some twenty years ago I wrote the manuscript for a book that I gave the working title “The Challenge of Change.”  It dealt with the need for some substantial changes in the Adventist Church and outlined some areas where I felt those changes would be most needed. At the time it was tentatively accepted by one of the American Adventist publishers, but the plan was abandoned due to serious criticism from “above”.  I had almost forgotten about it, but when the topic of “change” emerged in a conversation I recently had with some church leaders in the domain of communications, I was encouraged to take another look at the manuscript, and update and revise it where necessary.

I am not very good in solving computer problems and when, after I had excavated the document from the recesses of the hard disk of my laptop, it took me a lot of effort to change the ancient Word Perfect format into something I could work with in the Word program that my Apple MacBook Air is able to handle, with footnotes and page number etc. in the right shape.  But, somehow, I succeeded and during the last month or so I spent a significant amount of time in updating, revising and (hopefully) improving what I wrote two decades ago. Last week ago I submitted the revised document to a publisher. At that point the customary waiting period begins: Will it be accepted for publication? If so, is the publisher happy with the text as it stands, or will there be a request for some changes or even for the rewriting of some sections?

However, during such a process of waiting I usually start on a new writing project. For some time I have toyed with the idea of writing a book on the theme of death and resurrection. I have been in dialogue with one of our Adventist publishers and have in principle been given the green light. I have provided a tentative outline and I have begun to work on some of the chapters that I have in mind.  Yet, there is one fundamental question that still needs to be clarified: Who are the intended readers?  Is it meant to be a book for Adventists mainly, or primarily for non-Adventists? That makes quite a difference.

Another important aspect is:  What are the topics and sub-topics I should deal with and in what order? As an Adventist pastor it is not difficult for me to opt for the traditional approach and determine what I feelthe readers need to know. But a person who had read the book proposal sent me a list with questions today’s people might have with regard to death and the hereafter, but that we seldom touch upon in Adventist publications on the topic.

Yesterday I was reading the draft of a chapter a PhD candidate in the USA had asked me to review. He wanted me to be one of his readers as he plows along. His subject has to do with the presence and witness of the church in an urban setting.  In the chapter that I read yesterday he emphasizes the need for the church to respond to actual questions, rather than give answers to questions we thinkthe people have or should have. And that will be my challenge also as I write my book about death and resurrection: What real questions do real people—religious and non-religious—have about this topic that affects all of us in such an existential way? Of course, it remains to be seen whether or not I have satisfying answers. The only thing I can promise is: I will do my level best.

PS. Of course, whenever we talk about our faith, the real questions of others (and not the questions we think they have, or should have), should be the starting point.


Recently a painting of David Hockney fetched the unbelievable amount of ninety million dollar. It was the highest amount (so far) ever paid for a work of a living artist. I must admit that I liked the painting and would not mind having it on one of the walls of our living room, but for the life of me I cannot understand what gives a work of art this kind of value. I do not know what the first owner paid for it, but it must have been just a very tiny percentage of this multi-million amount. When Hockney produced his painting “Pool with Two Figures” it may have taken him a few days or weeks of his time and no more than perhaps one hundred dollar in material (canvas, paint, etc.) And I remember reading that he made a trip to a specific location where he wanted to photograph the person who was to be portrayed on the edge of the swimming pool. That may have cost him a few thousand dollar at most. So, what brought the immense added value?

Several factors play a role. By now Hockney’s reputation as a renowned artist would add some zero’s to the price of anything he has made. And art dealers know how to get their share of what a buyer will ultimately pay. The buyer was rich enough to outbid all other interested parties. Was he/she motivated by an obsession to acquire this painting? Or was it to be an investment that could bring some extra tens of millions at some future date?

Clearly, many objects soon lose most, or not all, of their value, while some things never ldrop in value because of their intrinsic worth (being made of precious metal or containing precious stones, etc.), and some things only continue to increase in value. However, the kind of value we are referring to is conditioned by the human desire to possess something and on the human expertise of making an assessment that takes into account such aspects as fashion, culture, and rarity. In spite of all the experience of the experts the value of something may be either highly overrated or estimated far too low.

It becomes infinitely more difficult to put a value on human beings. We often reckon in terms of net worth. That means that people like Bill Gates and Soros would fall in the highest category. But would men like Einstein and Mozart, or contemporary equivalents, be of even more or of lower value? Is a well-educated person, with a good job, who lives in the Western world, of more value than a jobless person living in an African shanty-town? And is an octogenarian with a serious physical condition of enough value to warrant the prescription of a medicine with an annual price tag of some thirty thousand dollar?

Let’s take it one step further. What value do we as Christians attach to other people? Are all our “brothers” and “sisters” of the same value for us? Or do we have the tendency to somehow place more value on some groups or individuals than on others? And are fellow human beings, near and far, of enough value for us that we will do our utmost to assist them materially and spiritually? And are peopleof more valueto us than things? Is a fellow-church member of more value than even than a painting of Hockney?

This week I am reminded of the fact that in life some things are of far more real value than a healthy bank account. As I have flown to Canada to visit my two sisters who live there, and who are in dire straits health-wise, I realize perhaps more acutely than “normally”, that such things as health, family and love are the kind of values that truly count.

Moreover, when considering the concept of value, we must constantly remind ourselves of the fact that for God every human being is of equal worth. He does not only look after those who fit his mold of likable people. He gave us all the same status, “just a little lower than the angels.” Human beings are valuable enough in God’s sight that he was willing to risk everything—even the death of his Son—in order to make sure that we would retain our God-given value. Let’s never forget: The value of each of us human beings is determined by the price God was willing to pay for us.


More important than winning

In a previous blog I referred to a recently held study conference of Belgian and Dutch pastors about the theme of “Violence and Non-Violence”. In this blog I want to return to this event. One of the lectures—by a Belgian colleague—focused on Dr. Martin Luther King, one of the great pioneers of non-violent resistance. King, he said, was no saint and also had his less attractive characteristiscs, but he will remain famous as a prominent fighter for the rights of the Blacks in the United States. He  was murdered in 1968.

As part of his lecture the speaker put a slide on the screen of the “Ten Commandmands of Non-Violence”, which had been drawn up by King. Since I am, to some extent at least, someone who follows technological progress, I quickly took a picture of the slide, so that I would later be able to better remember the exact words. As commandment number two King mentioned: “Remember always that the nonviolent movement (in Birmingham) seeks justice and reconciliation—not victory.”

For me this point stood out in the lecture: When we get embroiled in a conflict we are eager to emerge as the winner. When we take someone to court we want to win the case. When we are attacked by someone we will not rest until the other party had admitted he/she was in the wrong. When countries go to war, they, of course, want the other country to lose. The victory may come at enormous costs. A few days ago we were reminded of this when the world remembered the end of the First World War, now one hundred years ago. This terrible war was about victory, whatever the cost, while reconciliation and justice were regrettable often forgotten.

The words of Martin Luther King were most appropriate. How can we end conflicts by emphasizing justice and reconciliation, rather than focusing on gaining the victory? Could it also in a conflict in the church, (such as the controversy about the ordination of women), be possible to no longer focus on who will gain the victory? This particular conflict threatens to escalate to the point that it might cause the world-wide church to split. Could we not somehow use all available means to strive for reconciliation and for a form of justice that all parties would find acceptable? Is there any hope that the top leadership of the church would begin to seek for reconciliation rather than risk further escalation in the “compliance” process? Even if that would mean that none of the parties would be able to claim a complete victory?

The words of Martin Luther King certainly also find their application is local congregations where two or more parties are at loggerheads with one another. Unfortunately, there are such cases in the Dutch church. And I fear this is also a tragic reality in many other places in the world. I call on all parties in such conflicts to remember the words of Dr. King that underline how it is not of the highest importance to be able to claim a victory, but that our concern must always be justice and reconciliation. For, if push comes to shove, this is the way of Christ.

Rescinding a decision?

During this past week the Belgian-Luxembourg Conference held a two-day pastoral meeting in the Netherlands. They also invited Dutch pastors to attend. I was glad I was able to be there. Ever since a few years ago I interrupted my retirement to serve for some 18 months as the interim-president of that conference, I enjoy meeting with my Belgian colleagues. The theme for the study-conference was “Violence and Non-violence”. A number of presentations focused on biblical issues, some on historical aspects, and the last lecture dealt with how to handle non-verbal and verbal abuse in our churches. I had been ask to give a historical overview of the position of the Seventh-day Adventist Church, throughout its history, with regard to participation in the military and, in particular, regarding the long tradition of non-combatancy.

I had spent considerable time researching this topic, as this was an area of which I did not know all that much. The church was organized (in 1863) in the midst of the American Civil War, and the small denomination of just a few thousand members had to decide how to react to this situation. Although the standpoint of the leaders was not immediately crystal clear, it is fair to say that from the beginning of the Adventist movement there was a strong sense that Christians should serve their country and be loyal citizens but should first of all obey God’s law, which would not allow them to “work” on the Sabbath and to go against the sixth commandment that tells us not to kill any other human being. In many parts of the world, and especially in the United States, there has over time been a significant shift in this regard, and today a military career is a viable option for many young Seventh-day Adventists. I feel sad that in the process a significant aspect of our heritage is being lost.

As I was preparing my lecture, I was struck by two interesting facts that (I think) have a direct bearing on current issues the Adventist Church is struggling with. First of all, there is the question whether decisions that are taken by a General Conference in session must always be adhered to or may, at some later stage, be rescinded or disregarded by the church’s administration, if there is a strong conviction that the decision was not good for the church. The 1954 General Conference in session in the city of San Francisco decided that the principle of non-combatancy was of such importance that it should be included among our principal beliefs in the Church Manual. This, however, did not happen. Apparently, the editors of the Church Manual dragged their feet, and a few years later it was decided by the administration of the church that it would be unwise to put this in the Church Manual, as this would cause considerable problems for our members in different places in the world.  How interesting!  It seems that a vote by a GC session was not always sacrosanct. There is at least this precedent where such a vote was later disregarded. And the argument used is also of major significance. The consequences  for some regions of the world of that vote were thought to be serious enough to go against a decision of the world body. Could this precedent perhaps help us to see the San Antonio decision about the ordination of female pastors in a different light?  And could it also help the GC leaders to respond positively to the North American request to rescind the “compliance-document” that was approved during the recent Autumn Council?

And then, secondly, it occurred to me that the shift in our attitude towards serving in the military and towards bearing arms happened without any formal decisions during a General Conference session or Autumn Council. It simply was a gradual development that took place over time. The point is not whether or not I applaud this development. The point is that the church does not always define and re-define its positions by a process of formal world-wide debate and GC session votes. Some things just develop and change over time—not always everywhere in the same way and with the same speed. Would it not be much better to also allow the issue of the ordination of women to simply run its course and accept that changes will happen in different ways in the various regions of the world and at different speeds? Similar developments have happened in other areas without jeopardizing the world-wide unity in the church.

The recent Autumn Council paid a lot of attention to our denominational history (in some aspects in a rather bizarre way). But is would seem that this attention to the Adventist past was in many ways quite selective. I would urge the church’s administrators to also look at our past in order to find some inspiration for ways that would get us out of the present quick mire in which our church is at risk to sink ever deeper and deeper.



As I returned from a preaching appointment last Sabbath I listened to the radio in my car and happened to hear a lengthy interview with the author of a recently published book about the long-term effects of hunger. Mrs. Tessa Rosenboom was interviewed about the project on which she reported in this book that she co-authored with mr. Ronald van de Knol and was published by Atlas/Contact. The title of their work—translated from the original Dutch—is: Baby’s of the Hunger-winter: the unexpected heritage of malnutrition.

The winter of 1944-1945 in the Netherlands was uncommonly severe. This created enormous hardships during the last phase of World War II, when normal food supplies were dramatically reduced. Especially in the Western part of the country people had to scramble for food and were often reduced to eating tulip bulbs or animal feed. Mrs. Rosenboom and her team embarked on a major, twenty year long, study to investigate whether the circumstances of this dreadful winter had any negative long-term impact on the children that were conceived and born during that period.  It was found that, in particular, pre-natal conditions played an important role. Unborn children of mothers who did not receive enough good nutrition during their pregnancy tended to have many more health problems later in their lives when compared to the population in general. They tended to have more heart- and blood-vessel problems, fell more easily victim to depression and stress and, perhaps surprisingly, also often had a smaller brain. The study involved a few hundred persons whose birth details were still available in the Amsterdam hospital where they were born. (I must count myself lucky that, though I experienced this terrible winter as a small child, I was conceived and born two years earlier!)

In the interview it was stressed that this study is not just important as a historical document, but also is a stern warning that hunger does not only produce temporary physical setbacks but also has very negative long-term results. At this very moment around the world there are great numbers of pregnant women who do not get adequate nutrition and there are millions of small children who are chronically malnourished. Just think of the war-torn country of Yemen, where food supplies remain stuck in the ports and simply do not reach the millions who are in dire need. What does that mean for the future of millions of people and for the future of that country. (I continue to read reports about Yemen with extra interest since I had, now almost twenty years ago, the opportunity to visit there during a ten-day inspection trip of ADRA-projects.)

Now, it could easily be argued that most food shortages and large-scale occurrences of malnutrition in the world are man-made disasters. But even though those of us who live in other parts of the world had no part in causing these catastrophes we are usually asked by various NGO’s for our financial contributions. I expect, before too long, to see a national television campaign on my television screen to address the hunger situation in Yemen. For many it begs the question: Should we always stand ready to help when people become the victim of circumstances that are caused by competing parties within these countries? From time to time we are confronted with an understandable degree of donor fatigue.

And yet, we must accept our responsibility when, for whatever reason, people are hungry. Usually those who cause (and do) the fighting have enough food but innocent citizen, and especially children, are the victims. And, nearer home—even in our prosperous Western societies—people may go hungry and need our help. Whatever else we think and say about the causes of this, Christ made clear that He comes to us in the hungry people of this world and whatever we do to alleviate the plight of hungry people, we actually do to Him.