One of the interesting things that has been with us all of our lives is the influence the pastors of our churches have had on us. Let me in a moment talk about that. First another observation.
I have always had large interest in presidential politics. I am not sure all that much changes from president to president. Small percentage changes in unemployment, small shifts in the way foreign policy is handled, small shifts in the polls in the like/dislike approve/disapprove ratings. It seems to me that every president goes along pretty good for about a year and then people start to get mad about something. Ratings go down, news guys are quick to point out that "he is in trouble" and then when the next election comes everybody votes. It is usually close and the next guy comes in with all the new ideas and the machine goes down the road at about the same speed and looks about the same coming and going. I am thinking that the machine these guys are driving is perhaps a little bigger than they know how to steer. Other than the fact that you get a nice airplane I often wonder who in their right mind would want that job? Seems to me it is a head of gray hair waiting to happen.
Back to pastors. In contrast to presidents, pastors have a good chance of changing lives. I know a little about this because I grew up in the home of a pastor. At that time pastors did not have large staffs. Nowadays most of these churches have a pastor for about everything. Preaching, youth, caring, music, administration, addiction and evangelism, campus etc. are all covered by another pastor. When my dad started, one guy did it all. When you are a kid in one of these pastor homes you learn some things. By the nature of the calls that come in you can hear enough to know that we live in a world that has a broken dimension to it. It seems to me that one of the other problems with pastoring is that when you decide to become a pastor you are going in to a field where the problem resolution can be very difficult. Another thing is that every 7 days you find yourself in front of a large group trying to explain something that really does not have a definitive explanation. Plus you always have a nut or two (or more) in your audience that think they know a little more than you do about the subject. I think my dad went to school for 8 years to learn how to do this job. He took it all pretty seriously but at the same time had a good sense of humor. He would once in a while get in a little trouble. On one Sunday morning we had a large sewer project going on right in the parking lot of the church. On the way to church he wondered if he should say something about it. The hole was about 30 feet deep. So before church he did announce it. He said "if a kid falls into that hole we will help the parents fish him out. If an adult falls in I want you to know that the Bible says that you are not to drag your ox or your ass out of a hole on Sunday". I think the point did get across.
He and his dad (my grandfather) always kind of had an earthy dimension to them. I am not sure it fit precisely with a conforming christian profile. I have them to blame for a lifetime of using a little "salt" in my dialect. That way I can transfer the sin. I first learned the art of non-conformance when I was just a little kid. When we would travel back to Pella my grandfather, Isaac, would take us fishing on some farm ponds in Iowa. We would fish for bullheads. I caught a nice fish who had swallowed the hook deep enough so that nobody could get it out. My Grandpa held that thing up and announced to us that the hook was so deep he could see it coming out of the rectum. He used a term for this this that started with A and had two syllables. Once the ice was broken on this term we learned a few more new words during the day. We could not wait to get home and tell Grandma the new vocabulary we had learned while fishing. She cooked those fish for dinner and after the opening prayer we thought it might be a good idea to tell her about all the new things we had learned that day. She would often speak in a broken Dutch especially when she did not think anybody else could understand. She told him "u bent ouder in de kerk en nu hebt u uw gaat kleinkindren hebben die enkel als u spreken". (you are an elder in the church and now you are going to have grandchildren that talk just like you do.) He kind of lowered his head in what I thought at first was a moment of shame. Then out of the corner of his eye he winked his left eye at me. There are some family moments you never forget.
When we moved to Holland we used the yellow pages and noticed that we had the choice of 52 CRC and/or RCA churches that we could choose from. It was a literal gold mine of liturgical livation. I suggested to Deb that we go to one every week in one year and then pick one out. At that time Deb would sit in our living room and play the piano. She did have a way of making religious music have a certain kind of rock and swing to it . As the tunes floated out the screen door we saw a man standing at our front door. He was good looking guy that I thought could be a Mormon but there was only one of him. He announced himself as a neighbor and noted that he had heard some music coming out of the home. He said "I do not want to sound bold because I just met you guys but I could sure use some help from somebody who knows how to play the piano". A slightly puzzled look came over Deb's face. I think she was also thinking she might be in for a gig at the local Later Day Saints outfit. He went on "my name is Dave Breen and I am the pastor of Beechwood Reformed and I need some help from a piano player that is willing to play with our children's choir". Seeing my visits to 51 other churches disappear in front of my eyes Deb agreed to do this. I said to Deb "are you nuts", we talked about this we were not going to get so involved the first week we are here. Deb told me that she liked this guy. I mean who else would have the fortitude to do something like that 3 days after we move in. Dave Breen just had this way with people and to this day our families have interacted with each other in a special way. When Deb was diagnosed he was a huge help to us as he himself has had a battle with cancer over these past years. From a pastor perspective he has served 2 large churches in between his tenure as our pastor. I think he might read these so let me say thanks to both Dave and Linda.
I think as pastors go so go the sons. I think it is the required job of every pastors offspring to let their parents know that a little bit of the devil still does exist in the world. Their young son went missing one day. Many of the neighborhood people were involved in the search. Hours later we found him in the backseat of their car and when he emerged I think his motivation was to engage in a large game of hide and seek with he the only one knowing we were playing. I do recall the large relief when he was found and I do recall the scolding when things all came out. I think Dave's sermon the following Sunday was on "Love and Justice".
It was shortly thereafter that we had a teenager sitting on our front porch. He spoke with an accent. It turns out that he had signed out to be an Opare with a local family and for different reasons things were not working. He asked if he could stay a night or two as he made arrangement's to go back to Denmark.
Deb and I talked this over and this guy also had kind of a likable quality to him. His name was Morten. We thought that if we paid him 50 bucks a week he could help us in the home and do some baby sitting. We did have him do some of this but it kind of ended up that we gained some experience with teenagers and what we might expect in the future with our own children. Let me just say that his domestic skills were not very well developed. Deb left for work one morning and had carefully explained for him to put a tray of fish in the oven at 5. She did not tell him to remove the cellophane.
The fish that night had a slightly plastic flavor. Deb had a bad day that day. I do remember him apologizing to her for this. I also recall Deb telling him that sorry was not good enough. As we ate our fish dinner that night at Russ's I can only think of what Deb told him on the way home. She told him that by the time he went back to Denmark she would teach him how to run a home. The next day I was leaving for work. I saw a car going down Ottawa Beech road in reverse. It had no driver but it did have a kid in the passenger seat that looked very much like Alden. Morten had stopped at the local gas station and had forgotten to put the car in park before entering the store to pay. When he came out the car was gone. Somehow this car lodged up against a curb about a quarter mile down the street. As we face the situation we do today this is one of the reasons I believe in miracles. Everybody was OK.
That night I talked more with Deb. We talked about how to best handle the situation. Deb suggested that it might be a valuable experience for him to live with us for a year. She used that year to love him like a son and train him in the ways of running a home. Today he owns a couple of companies and I think is a multimillionaire. He is married and does some of the cooking. When he puts the fish in the oven he always remembers to garnish the edges and remove the cellophane. He came back to visit us once and we still communicate via email.
When he was here we took him to church with us. Dave Breen was preaching a sermon. He made one of the points and he looked up in the balcony where we and Morten were sitting. Morten had kind of stayed out late the night before, he was a little groggy. We had trouble getting him up that morning and were a little late. Dave was talking about how a Christian family works. He looked up in the balcony and stopped his sermon and he said "Morten, this goes for you too". I am not sure Morton understood all of this back then. I do know that Dave Breen has never given up on anybody. Somewhere in the dictionary is the word evangelism and next to it a picture of the pastor who knocked on our door about 25 years ago.
I have a few more things on pastors for the next time......For now I am wondering how I got on all these topics in one post but I will let it stand with the idea that we all know there is a little humor in every storm...................Till next time...
Stan the Man
Great job....love it...char and lily
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