Yearly Archives: 2020

Are we entering a new era?

Looking back we see how history has gone through different periods. Antiquity gave way to the Middle Ages. Then came the age of modernity, and from the 1960’s onwards we gradually slid into the era of postmodernity. There are no neat dividing lines between those periods. While we usually say that the Middle Ages ended in 1500, it would be nonsense to say that the medieval period ended on December 31, 1499 and that the world became “modern” when the sun rose on January 1, 1500. It is just as difficult to indicate a point when most people in the western world became postmodern. Actually, most people of my generation of 70-plus are still partly modern and partly postmodern.

The big question is: What comes next. Some say that postmodernity is already something of the past. They say we have entered the age of post-postmodernism, or they use some other term to underline that postmodernity is gone. To me it seems that such statements are, at best, premature. Undoubtedly, the world continues to change. Our culture continues to change. As human beings we are impacted by what happens around us and by the ideas that circulate, and thus we change—often almost imperceptibly but yet very real. Postmodernism may indeed be changing, but I believe that the main characteristics of postmodernism are still very much with us. To name just a few: The rejection of “the grand narratives”, the disappearance of belief in constant progress, the replacement of Absolute Truth with our individual truths and the large-scale suspicion of organized religion.

So, if I am right, we are still in the time of postmodernism. But what comes next? Increasingly, people seem to feel that we are on the threshold of something new, something different, something scary. But could it be that postmodernism is really so short-lived? The medieval period lasted a thousand years and modernity reigned supreme for a number of centuries. Well, it seems many things in our world are speeding up. And I am not just talking of Moore’s Law, based on an observation of Gordon Law in 1965, that the number of transistors on a microchip doubles about every two years. I could also refer to the fact that nowadays generations follow each other ever more quickly. After the baby boomers came Gen-X, but they were soon followed by Gen-Y and now by Gen-Z. (So, what will the next generation be called?).

Is it perhaps the current Covid-19 crisis that intensifies the sense of large numbers of people that we are in a transition to a new time period? It seems that we have stepped into a period of unparalleled uncertainty in which the lives of hundreds of millions of people can be turned upside-down almost overnight. Wherever we turn we are faced with a stifling polarization—in our own country, internationally, in the church. It was never as easy as it is today to communicate, but much of the communication we receive has become suspect as fake-news. How is it to be explained that, where our world has become a global village and our cities have become an ethnic mix as never before, racism, ethnocentrism and culture wars, continue to plague our societies without any sign of improving? What kind of period are we entering? Will the Covid-19 pandemic have a lasting influence on how we work, travel, arrange our social life and worship? In the past, every era has had its thinkers who provided underlying philosophies. They provided a foundation on which people could build. But today, where are those intellectual guides who can give us direction?

I am asking these questions as a Christian. Has Christianity, as we know it, large failed in keeping our world on the track of decency, solidarity and hope? When persons like Donald Trump can pose as “born again Christians” then certainly something is terribly wrong. Yet, if it was ever needed that the message of Jesus Christ penetrates our world, as a leaven of grace, it is now. Let’s hope and pray that the church will be energized by the Spirit to be a power for good as we enter a new era, but above anything else that, as individual Christians, we will truly practice the kind of life that Jesus Christ modeled for us. Many may see this as a rather naive suggestion, but I see no other option.

Should the Netherlands apologize for slavery?

This week King Philippe of Belgium wrote a letter to the Congolese President Tshisekedi in which he expressed his “deepest regret” for the enormous abuses during the Belgian colonial period. Especially his ancestor Leopold II, who considered Congo his personal property, was guilty of a true reign of terror with untold atrocities. But even after this period, Belgium was not exactly a good coloniser – as far as there have ever been good colonisers! This week was the sixtieth anniversary of Congo’s independence. If you want to read a fascinating, but at the same time utterly tragic book, about the state of the country when, sixty years ago now, it had to stand on its own two feet, and how that situation almost inevitably led to decades of internal struggle and chaos, I recommend the masterpiece by the Belgian journalist David Reybrouck: Congo: Een Geschiedenis (De Bezige Bij, 2010), for which Reybrouck received the prestigious Libris History Prize in the Netherlands. The book appeared in a number of languages, including English (Congo: The Epic History of a People; 2015). The Belgian king’s expression of regret will not be without consequences, because undoubtedly the call for financial compensation will now become ever stronger.

In the same week, the Netherlands was also squarely confronted with its past. The emphasis was on an aspect of the Dutch colonial period that left a lasting stain on our history: the Dutch share in the slave trade and the institution of slavery in the former Dutch colonies, especially in Surinam. Every year on July 1st the KetiKoti festival is held at the Monument to Slavery in the Oosterpark in Amsterdam. KetiKoti is a Surinamese holiday commemorating the abolition of slavery on July 1st 1863. But, in fact, the approximately 34,000 slaves in Surinam were not really free until ten years later, because during that period the former slaves still had to work for their old masters under deplorable circumstances.

An important debate on systemic racism took place in the Dutch parliament on 1 July. The death of George Floyd and the subsequent wave of Black Lives Matter demonstrations was the immediate cause. But it was not by chance that July 1st, the day of KetiKoti, was chosen to debate the “pandemic” of racism. During the debate the history of slavery in the Netherlands was extensively discussed. The general trend was that the Dutch share in the transatlantic slave trade, and in the slavery in the Dutch colonies, should not be forgotten and that new generations of Dutch people should also hear the truth about this. Some political parties suggested that 2023—one hundred and fifty years after the actual end of slavery in Surinam—be a year when attention is given, in all sorts of ways, to the Dutch history of slavery. There was also a proposal to finally offer official apologies to Surinam, because of the injustice that was done to so many Surinamese people—an injustice that is still intensely felt by a large number of the descendants of these slaves.

The Prime Minister indicated that he thought it is unwise to officially apologize. He gave a number of sensible arguments. On behalf of whom could he make such an apology? After all, we’re talking about a distant past, and how far back in history do you have to go in apologizing? What’s more, at the time there was a completely different political structure and what happened then can hardly be blamed on the Dutch government of today. In the background, there is undoubtedly also the consideration that offering an apology could have a very heavy price tag.

When honestly facing up to what was wrong in our national history, the long-term existence of the institution of alavery in Surinam, and the substantial share of the Netherlands in the international slave trade, are important points. We must not simply tear these black pages from our history books. But at the same time we must also realize that the shame of slavery in Surinam, and of the Dutch slave trade, cannot be attributed entirely to the Dutch. The African henchmen who recruited men and women from the inlands and brought them to the ports, from where the slaves were shipped, should not go shot-free either. And when I recently read a book about the transport of slaves to the New World, it became clear to me that the sailors were sometimes even worse off than the slaves during the ocean crossing. A sailor who did not survive the voyage did not have to be paid his wages, and that meant profit. But a slave who succumbed during the trip could not be sold and that would be a financial loss! And it must also be said that the general historical context should not be forgotten and that, fortunately, there were also many slave owners who treated their slaves humanely. This in no way condones slavery or slave trade, but, as is almost always the case, historical events and past processes cannot be reduced to one single factor.

Should the Netherlands apologize for what our forefathers did more than a century and a half ago? I am not convinced we should. But we should continue to remember what happened and not polish away the stains on our history. The countries that have benefited for a long time from their colonies (including the Netherlands) certainly have a moral duty to continue to generously support these lands wherever possible. Attention to the past, however, must above all inspire us to treat our fellow human beings – far away and close by – in the present, as we should. The fight against endemic racism in our own society is now a top priority. For me, KetiKoti may become a national holiday (as is advocated by some), as long as we do not forget the challenges of the present when contemplating the past.

God and Covid-19

In recent weeks we have seen many publications about the role of God in the current Covid-19 pandemic. Some say that we should not blame God, while others ae sure God is guilty for the Corona misery. Their argument usually is that, if God is omnipotent, he can ensure that disasters like the current pandemic do not happen. The very fact that he does not use his power to prevent such terrible things makes him guilty. And who would want to worship a God who has so much blood on his divine hands?

In recent weeks I have become more intensely acquainted with a different view of God’s omnipotence than is common in Protestant theology. At the request of the independent Adventist journal Spectrum, I wrote a review of a new book by Dr. Richard Rice that is to be published shortly. For many years Rice has served as a professor in the Divinity School of the Loma Linda University in the place with the same name in California. Rice is one of the best-known and most creative Adventist theologians of our time, and has also become widely known outside the Adventist Church. The Dutch Adventist church published two of his books, namely the dogmatic standard work The Reign of God, which provides an excellent overview of Christian doctrine, from an Adventist perspective, and the fascinating book about the importance of the church: Believing, Behaving, Belonging.

Richard Rice’s new book is entitled The Future of Open Theism: From Antecedents to Opportunities. In the first part of this book Rice gives an overview of some of the forerunners of the theological movement that is now usually referred to as Open Theism, and explains what this school of theology believes and what critics have brought against it. In the second part of the book Rice discusses the impact of Open Theism on a number of crucial Christian dogmas. You have to know some theological terminology to be able to enjoy the book. But for those who are theologically interested and have a good command of English, reading it is a recommended adventure for the mind and for the heart.

The defenders of Open Theism, of whom Richard Rice is one of the most important, say that God is not omniscient in the sense that most theologians think he is. God is omnipotent, but he cannot do some things when these things are contrary to logic. He cannot make a round square or a square circle. And so, God’s omniscience is also limited. It does not include the things he cannot possibly know, namely how our free decisions will turn out. In his unspeakable love, he has taken the risk of creating people with a genuinely free will. And (this is a key facet of Open Theism) man’s will is only truly free if the result of his decisions are not predetermined and therefore already known by God. Rice and other advocates of this view believe that this approach does most justice to the biblical image of God. God is not the unchanging God of classical theology. God can undergo profound changes in his interaction with us. He rejoices when we make the right decisions, but is sad when we choose the wrong options. God can regret certain things and sometimes he changes his plans or opinion. As a result, also things that have been prophesied may in the end turn out differently from what we would expect!

This is a very concise and over-simplified representation of Open Theism. I intend to read more about it in the near future and perhaps also discuss certain ideas (and pose my questions) directly with Rice. But based on this view of the being and character of God, we must conclude that God’s decision to give man a genuine free will has led to so many wrong human choices and has messed up so much in our world, that eventually wars and pandemics and other disasters have been the result. That’s the high price God paid when he decided in his love not to make robots but beings with a free will. But he doesn’t let his plans go completely awry. His original intentions for man and for the world will eventually be realized. In the meantime, God is intensely involved in everything that happens. He supports us and is close to us. And when we suffer, he suffers intensely with us. Also (and especially) in times of this world-wide Covid-19 pandemic!

The Grain Republic

This week my wife and I spent a few days in the province of Groningen. From our hotel near the Martini church we explored parts of the province. Yesterday we drove around in a region that had remained virtually unknown to us: Oldambt in the far northeast of our country. Among the principal places in this relatively sparsely populated and economically challenged area are Winschoten, Zuidbroek, Heiligerlee, Scheemda, Beerta and Finsterwolde. But for the most part, this region consists of extensive farmland.

Some twenty years ago the Dutch author Frank Westerman was inspired by this region for his beautiful book The Grain Republic. Anyone who doesn’t know this writer yet, has missed something. For me his book De Stikvallei (literally: the valley where the people choked) was very special. In August 1986 a village on the shore of the volcanic lake Nyos in the African country of Cameroon was struck by a mysterious disaster. Toxic fumes killed all 1800 inhabitants of the village, and the same fate struck almost all animals in and around the village. At the time, we lived in the Cameroonian capital Yaoundé, a few hundred kilometres from the disaster area, and in the days and weeks that followed, the wildest rumours about the cause of this calamity spread around. Westerman traveled to the area and went in search of the stories that were circulating among the people. It resulted in a fascinating book

But as we drove along narrow roads through the Oldambt-area, between vast fields of wheat and other kinds of grain, my thoughts went to Westerman’s book The Grain Republic. In this book he describes the turbulent agricultural developments in this region during the previous century and the socio-political history of that time. The name of Sicco Mansholt keeps popping up in Westerman’s account.. He comes from this region, and he would eventually become the famous architect of the agricultural policies of the European Union.

What particularly struck me in The Grain Republic was the enormous contrast between the wealthy farm owners and the deplorable state of their workers. The clay in this region was much more fertile than the sandy ground and peatlands in other parts of the province. The farmers in the clay areas produced far more grain than they needed for their own consumption and that brought them lots of money, especially in times when grain prices rose sharply. This created a class of wealthy farm owners who enjoyed great financial prosperity, while their workers did not share in that prosperity in any way. On the contrary, they hardly earned enough to stay alive.

This in itself would be bad enough and represents a sad example of inhumanity. But what made it much worse was that these rich farmers were generally very religious people. On Sundays they sat with their families in church in the prominent benches near the pulpit and near the places of the elders. Is it any wonder that there was a gradual, large-scale abandonment of the church? The laborers no longer wanted to look at the hypocritical faces of their bosses who treated them so inhumanely.

Nowhere else in the Netherlands did strident socialism and communism gain as much support as in ‘the grain republic’. The area around Beerta, Finsterwolde and Bad Nieuweschans was often referred to as ‘the red triangle.’ In local elections towards the end of the twentieth century, the Communist Party of the Netherlands sometimes managed to win no less than thirty percent of all votes. In 1982 the municipality of Beerta even got a communist mayor!

It is not far-fetched to assume that the radical political choice of a large number of people was directly linked to their aversion against the way the establishment was full of pious words but showed no pious deeds. They saw how religious doctrine and Christian practice had become completely separated from each other. With the sad result that many turned their backs on the church and the Christian faith. And let’s face it: something like this did not only happen in East Groningen, but it keeps repeating itself in many places and in many circles: people (and especially young people) give up when they see that faith does not translate into compassion and moral conduct!

Racism. But what about other forms of discrimination?

After the killing of George Floyd, now two weeks ago, through blatant (white) police violence in Minneapolis, a wave of protest against racism has engulfed the world–not only in the United States, but also in Europe and elsewhere in the world. We also saw numerous protest manifestations in the Netherlands, sometimes with 10.000 or more participants.
The events of the past two weeks and the underlying systemic causes are characterised by an enormous complexity. In a number of cities, peaceful protests were hijacked by hordes of rioters, who were sometimes labelled ‘extreme left’ and sometimes ‘ultra-right.’ The role of the American president was dubious, to put it mildly. He showed a deplorable lack of empathy. His words contributed to the spiral of violence, as did his embarrassing photo session, in front of a church, with a Bible in his hand. The summum of his lack of tact and empathy was his remark that George Floyd is now looking down from heaven with approval on how this “law and order” president has curbed the riots by “dominating” the streets of the big cities.

The protests in the U.S. and beyond can of course not be viewed in isolation from the past, in which the black population was treated in a degrading manner, and from the endemic problems in the police force. Mixed in with this are the sad consequences of the Corona crisis, which is causing economic chaos, with an explosive increase in unemployment. As a result many people are looking towards the future with mounting despair. And on top of this, the pandemic creates an all-pervading fear: is this going to strike me and my loved ones? Will there be a second peak in infections? And how long will it be before we can live ‘normally’ again?

The last two weeks have once again emphasized that systemic racism is an immense problem. This is not restricted to the United States, although there it has some extra dimensions, partly due to the history of slavery, the Civil War and its aftermath. But it should not be forgotten that black Americans are not the only segment of the population that is discriminated against on a large scale. Mexicans, Portoricans, Chinese, indigenous peoples, and other groups are also considered by many as second-class citizens, not to mention those who have come from Muslim countries.

In the Netherlands, too, discrimination is not limited to those who are ‘black.’ Moroccans, Turks, Poles and other groups, some of whom came as far back as two or three generations ago, as well as people who adhere to Islam, and who often distinguish themselves by their dress, still experience the dire consequences of discrimination.

What about the church in general? And what about my Adventist faith community? Over the past two weeks, Adventist church leaders have (rightly) come out with statements condemning the murder of George Floyd and the grave injustices done to black people. But most of these statements do not admit that the racial problems within the Adventist Church are unfortunately still far from gone. And these statements fail to mention that discrimination doesn’t stop at skin color or ethnic descent. Discrimination against fellowmen (and often fellow-believers) with a non-heterosexual orientation, and against women, is still a shameful (and sinful) denial of the fundamental biblical rule that all people are completely equal. The words of those who protest against racial and ethnic discrimination – however appalling this is – but are complacent with regard to other forms of discrimination, will sound far from convincing.