The algebra of Grace

Do me a favour, and go to the live US debt clock which constantly updates a running number as to the debt accumulated by the Federal government:

That’s some scary stuff right there. As at Monday, 22 July 2019 the debt stands over $22 trillion. The guys in Congress seem disinclined to deal with the problem and the clock just keeps on ticking like a quaint gimmick that can tickle the funny bone of a person who has the curiosity to look it up.

According to a gander of, the world’s ultra wealthy are only collectively worth $8.7 which is far below the level of US Federal debt.

Taking the difficult path to settling this debt, or rolling it back ever so incrementally, is not politically on the table, an unsolvable problem created by congressional intransigence combined with the thrill of spending other people’s money.

The math problem isn’t only inherent in scenarios with pure numbers, but with potential numbers as well. Like a debt clock ticking ever further away from a solution, peace in the Middle East hurtles towards greater levels of unsolvability. Numbers rack up: days since the last violent incident, the number of victims on either side, the compounding of incorrigibility in succeeding generations.

Plot social trends on a graph and you will see that Republicans and Democrats in the U.S. have moved so far away from each other that there is barely common ground. Trends in South Africa also present a problem when it comes to statistics for joblessness, social security, and upward mobility.

These are all problems that people with far greater knowledge than me grapple with today, and have for years, decades, sometimes centuries. Simply put, the math doesn’t add up. These are only the problems I know about…there’s a whole six-pack of cans full of worms worth of problems and unresolved questions:

All these problems and questions are actually beyond us. We cannot solve them, which should be a blow to our hubris. I glimpsed an equation in words to a song this Sunday in church, words I had heard often and suddenly saw the algebra of Grace at work: one one side my moral debt, on the other side God’s righteousness and in-between the not-equal sign.

The words: ‘of the grace that is greater than all my sin’.

The symbol for greater-than.

Of the grace that is greater than all my sin…

Grace > my sin. This is an equation that takes place daily and the debt clock is reset to zero. Grace is scandalous (why should He pay it?), breath-taking, load-lifting and frankly, not truly comprehensible.

My sin may not be as bad as some, but it may as well have been $22 trillion. I couldn’t pay it.

Thank heaven for the algebra of Grace.

Father Abraham

It would be a trip to picture such a thing: a 99 year old geezer and his wife younger by a decade preparing for their first baby.


Not even in the history of movie-making – and taking into account the wacky comedies of Adam Sandler – would any producer have pitched an idea so strange as a 100-year old first time Dad. Maybe its something they should look into.


Paul references this account from Genesis in his 4th chapter of Romans, to illustrate how simple faith is.


Genesis 15: the word of God comes to Abram in a vision with a promise that God would be Abram’s shield and that his reward would be great, to which Abram replies that he doesn’t know what the use of a reward would be as he doesn’t have anyone to leave it to. Being as he had no children and a servant in his household would inherit everything.


God promised him a son and showed him a starry night on display, promising descendants too numerous to count, as dazzling as a vista of the Milky Way on full brag. Would you have believed it? Wrinkly, gap-toothed, with sore knees and knowing you’re close to a century?


‘Abram believed the Lord and he credited it to him as righteousness.’ (15:6, NIV)


Can you put yourself in Abram’s position? Or Sarai’s? They probably hadn’t been intimate in 30 years and they had to set up a date…dust off some of the old moves, re-acquaint themselves with the birds and the bees and the peacocks and peahens.


I even have the soundtrack in my mind: Marvin Gaye’s ‘Let’s get it on’.


And, wham! Just like that Abram was made right with God. Simply by believing. And believing something so unlikely. This is what Paul circles around when he’s talking about righteousness.


When reading about righteousness in a Biblical context, the word just pops off the page now because of what Paul has been writing and what I’ve been reading of it. Paul points to the promise of God to Abram and Abram’s faith as resulting in righteousness, and specifically points out that Abram’s action of being circumcised (to comply with the Law) did not make him righteous at all but that it was faith.


In his epistle to the Philippians, Paul describes himself in the following terms when considering the flesh:


  • Circumcised on the eighth day
  • Of the people of Israel
  • Of the tribe of Benjamin
  • A Hebrew of Hebrews
  • In regard to the law, a Pharisee
  • As for zeal, persecuting the church
  • As for righteousness based on the law, faultless…


The Jews in Paul’s day (and even now) saw the act of circumcision as doing something to be made righteousness, abiding by the Law. Paul is saying in Philippians that he has the pedigree; he’s been there, done that, got the T-shirt and the circumcision but that it actually doesn’t mean what he thought it used to mean.


You can almost imagine the subtext of Paul, the older Christian, talking to Saul, the younger Jew in the text: Yes, I was faultless as far as the law was concerned, but I still wasn’t in right-standing with God…it was all dung.


If I may make use of poetic license, it wasn’t a lone doggy doo in the corner of the backyard; it was a collected mound of offense straight from a farm. All those years of working to earn righteousness from God was about as useful as a load of dung. And Paul is breathing easier now that he is free of it.


A message that was doubtless infuriating to the Rabbis in Paul’s day – simply by believing God about Christ, everything is already done and the Believer gets to walk in a new reality where sin has lost its power. Paul writes that Abraham was the forerunner of the process that every Christian should follow, not to try to live with a sin management philosophy and limit the damage where possible, but walk in the nature of the Christian, as a new creation, in faith.


I realise it sounds simple.


But maybe it’s not meant to be complicated. After all, it won’t do to get into a street-fight with sin every other evening; sin has more experience at brawling than you or I ever will.


If you or I are a child of God, we entered this reality by simple belief and our way of entering this life is the way of living this life…the just will live by faith.

Father Abraham had many sons…some were Sharks supporters

Walking in faith (after Abraham’s example) makes us a son or daughter of Abraham.


Like one of those countless stars on that ancient night that Abraham saw.

Of when justice was served

Lately I’ve come to appreciate the thought that goes into writing lyrics to music, especially Christian music.


The non-Christian lyricist does not have to be diligent in their efforts to write a song. The subject matter can be subjective feelings, a thinly veiled advocacy of any cause, a naked celebration of emotion.


There are no fact-check websites devoted to the question of whether in fact Beyoncé’s break-up (real or imagined) involved ‘a box to the left’.


There has never been (as far as I know) a ‘Mythbusters’ episode examining the idea posed by Roy Orbison that a person can bit the bullet, then chew it.


There has never been a feasibility study by a think-tank on the question raised by John Lennon of what would happen if there were no governments and no religion.


There are woke SJW’s however, who review classic hits through the lens of the current political climate and mangle old favourites:


Songwriters and singers like Steven Curtis Chapman, Chris Tomlin and Big Daddy Weave have to do their homework when it comes to Christian music. I appreciate the effort that goes into the process. Steven Curtis Chapman for example decided to write a song with Chris Tomlin to collaborate on the lyrics to ‘The One true God’. If you’re making music about God, it has to conform to the highest standards.


In listening to a Big Daddy Weave track this past month, I just know that they were in-part inspired by Paul’s letter to the Romans: from references to the kindness of Jesus (Romans 2:4) and to where ‘justice was served and where mercy wins’ (Romans 3:25 – 26).


This is not some jingle scrawled on the back of a napkin. These guys do their homework. Currently, I’m working my way through a Small Group study on Romans by Messrs Blackaby.




In the introduction they begin by saying that the central theme of Romans is righteousness – right standing with God.


I’m circling around the idea of righteousness and there are two perspectives: from the human perspective, righteousness involves our standing with God, how we get there and stay there! From God’s perspective (if I may speak in the abstract, and not for Him) it’s about His perfect standard, the sensitivity with which He applies His standard (since He could at any moment kill every person for their moral debt) and the seriousness with which He views unrighteousness.


He has a situation on His hands with the human race, but He has not washed His hands of us. It is incredible to me that He wishes to impute righteousness to man.


The psalmist and king, David wrote about how blessed it is to be forgiven for unrighteousness:


Blessed is the man ‘whose sin the Lord does not count against them’. Not merely taking a Tipp-Ex to sin, but imputing righteousness.


Paul has already argued in the strongest terms that no one can ever earn righteousness. It would be impossible for God NOT to count their sins against them in their moral failure.


So, David must have been talking about another way (other than obeying the Law) to experience this blessedness of being acquitted.


I was speaking with an acquaintance this week about righteousness and his idea was that God cannot possibly be so strict, or to put in in terms I would use, benign. I think that type of reasoning is personally reckless. I think that Paul was right, that God views sin in the most serious light as an insult to His spotless, holy character.


Despite the world’s consensus, I don’t think God is good humoured about moral failure, that He winks at the whole thing and chuckles good-naturedly at the fumbling drenched in blood and tears that goes on. Without this idea of God being justifiably full of wrath, what amazement would there be in the cross?


Paul’s words encapsulate the point better than I could; God demonstrates his righteousness in Christ by being ‘just and the one who justifies’. (Romans 3:26, NIV)


There had to be a punishment. Payment was due. Paul writes that ‘in his forbearance he had left the sins committed beforehand unpunished’. (Romans 3:25, NIV). The tab had been accumulating, sins piling up in a stack of IOUs twenty feet deep.


In one act, His justice was satisfied and righteousness was offered to the unrighteous.


It is unfathomable to me that God the Father should punish God the Son, but that is what happened. The word ‘punish’ hardly encompasses the depths of agony described by crucifixion, or the mental and spiritual anguish of a cry being met by the Father’s silence.


It is incomprehensible that He made us righteous, but those are the facts.


Just and the one who justifies. Of when justice was served and where mercy wins.


The Father showed the most extreme level of diligence in working out a way for us to be restored to Him after all the rubbish we pulled.


Having this in view, what now? Faith and righteousness, righteousness and faith. The way to understand this, and walk in it is faith. It’s almost too simple since we expect 18 thousand moving parts and several hundred cogs in a ponderously complex blueprint of religion.


As Paul quoted Habakkuk in Romans: The just (those made righteous) will live by faith.

Grace versus works

I have a playlist of Christian songs for anytime I’m on the road, and the opening lyrics to a Matt Redman song took on deeper meaning as I’ve been going through Paul’s epistle to the Christians in Rome:


Who O Lord could save themselves?

Their own soul could heal?


(Produced by Robert Marvin, 2009 under Sparrow/Sixsteps; Matt Redman)


To me, the question posed by Redman is obvious. In fact it’s beyond obvious: Of course I cannot save myself or heal my own soul. Neither can anyone else. And this is Paul’s point in chapter 3 of his epistle.


For the person who thinks that they’re doing okay by moral standards, Romans chapter 3 is like a finger poke to a raw wound. Without thinking we tend to measure ourselves against other human beings who are far more ethically questionable than we are, thereby finding ourselves more superior on the moral continuum.


We should measure ourselves against God’s standard of righteousness. I know what some people may be thinking…how do we know what His standards are? So many religions, so many Christian denominations. The waters could get muddy.


Paul presents evidence from the Scriptures that no one measures up:


The Law, the Prophets, the Psalms all testify that no one is righteous. Our posture towards Him stinks, our words condemn us, our works condemn us. We’re like that guy walking down the street who sees someone he despises, pretends he didn’t notice and then proceeds to cross the street and duck into a side road. Arrogant nose still in the air. We are masters at refusing to see the obvious and avoiding facing tough questions.


What about those who didn’t have the Law? God isn’t unfair, where the Law wasn’t available for the pagan, the law was hard-wired as it were, in the human heart. Perhaps not the ceremonial particulars of not eating shellfish or pork, but the biggies certainly were. Ten Commandments are easily programmed into the moral centre of the human being.


We have something to go on that tells us how we ought to live, but the main point is that we don’t live up to it. That’s what Paul is getting at. The whole world is accountable and the law silences our defence. Our excuses, our rationalisations, our legal arguments don’t measure up. They’re the logical equivalent of the guy accused of assaulting another man whose defence is that the victim ran into his fist repeatedly.


No one is declared righteous by observing the law, primarily because we are not able to obey the law.


Before, I wrote that the question was beyond obvious: no one can save themselves or heal what is wrong with their soul. Yet it’s a persistent idea. Almost a zombie idea: although it’s proven time and time again ad nauseum ad infinitum that no one can measure up to a moral code, the collective human race keep trying to do it. The idea should be dead, but it keeps coming back like a rotten corpse of a zombie that it is.


I know something about both Islam and Scientology, having been exposed in past working environments to both ideologies. Outwardly, they identify vastly different explanations for life and its meaning, and how to solve moral failings. Fundamentally, they share the common idea that one has to work for salvation.


To work for salvation means that you need to take sole responsibility for reaching the goal of your belief system; in the case of Islam, Jannah; in the case of Scientology, becoming an Operating Thetan (OT).


Religion: your goal isn’t the rope in front of you, its 30 thousand feet at altitude, and you’re out of airplanes.


It makes little difference whether you work your way repeatedly through five pillars or in steps across the ‘Bridge to Total Freedom’, the salient point is that no matter what your goal is, you will never reach it. It struck me this week that the followers of both religions must be exhausted (instead of refreshed).


We can’t do it on our own, and as Paul points out, our Heavenly Father doesn’t intend for us to. Simple faith will give us access to salvation.

Proper motivation

They missed it.


Apologies for playing the pronoun game which exists only to artificially heighten the drama.


The religious professionals, the Jewish populace at large in Israel in the 1st Century missed the Messiah. The biggest event in their redemptive history and it seems like barely a London telephone box full of people stumbled onto the truth because Jesus said that the Father revealed it to them.


The majority were seemingly closed to the idea.


They had the advantage of the Scriptures, the promises, and still He was barely recognized. What a missed opportunity!


Would I have been one of those handful that recognized him? I’m fairly sure I know the answer to be no.

Like the raindrops in the image, I typically focus on the near instead of seeing His bigger picture.

There is so much that I don’t know about God. In fact, who can ever know enough? I’ve barely scratched the atomic surface but what I do know is that God is not merely written about in a book, but personal. Accessible by anyone who is looking in His direction. I also know that theology is like a rock-star waiting to be discovered, like the coolest music from your youth that you didn’t know existed and you discover a trove of audio cassettes and a rainy weekend with time on your hands.


I find myself realizing that it is possible to miss awesome things about Christ because I’m not paying attention, because I haven’t done my homework, because I haven’t asked the right questions. It’s all there in front of me, just like it was for the people who missed the significance of His coming two millennia ago.


I realize that small things can make a big difference. Having the right motive. A quote I read somewhere this week:


“Here lies the supreme missionary motivation. It is neither obedience to the Great Commission, nor compassion for the lost, nor excitement over the gospel, but zeal (even “jealousy”) for the honor of Christ’s name….No incentive is stronger than the longing that Christ should be given the honor that is due his name.” (John Stott)


In my raw opinion on the subject, Paul the apostle had all three of these motivations simultaneously. He was a very driven guy.


Paul spoke ceaselessly of the gospel and the importance of preaching it.


Paul also had a profound outreach to the Gentiles but at the same time had a relentlessly abiding love for his fellow Jews, that they too would finally embrace Christ.


Paul’s core motivation however seems to have been that Christ would be exalted.


I was thinking about the Lord’s prayer this week, in part because I realized I hadn’t prayed it in some time, but also because it is a perfect summary of what we ought to pray for. Of course it would be because the Lord taught us to pray it.


After addressing ‘Our Father in heaven’ the first thing we pray for is that His name would be praised, that his kingdom would come and his will be done.


His Name.


His Kingdom.


His will.


Its counter-intuitive for people to put Him first, it goes without saying. Listening to the lyrics of a Big Daddy Weave song this week, I was struck by the opening idea: the lyricist writes of ‘my story’ actually being about Him.


That’s a very Pauline thing, a motive that is primarily about His glory. That’s something I don’t want to miss.

More than snow covered dung

There’s no substitute for going slowly through Scripture and hanging out a while, stopping to smell the flowers and spend time in a place that our eyes fly over with speed, like cars on a highway.


I’ve pulled over to the side, I’m checking out the terrain, surveying the features that have to this point only been a blur.


Paul is writing to Christians in Rome and unpacks for the Jew and Gentile alike that they need Christ. The Jew had serious advantages, having received so much in the way of a God-centered heritage, and yet it hadn’t made a difference to how he lived.


From verses 21 through 24 in chapter 2, Paul explains:


They were good at teaching others how to live, but they couldn’t live up to it themselves.


They preached against stealing, but had a business culture of ripping people off.


They warned against adultery, but fell into it themselves…just consider the woman caught in adultery and brought before Jesus; how did they catch her in the act? Now that’s a question with potentially icky answers.


They boasted in the Law, but didn’t really honour God.


Paul doesn’t sugar-coat anything: it was because of them that the name of God was blasphemed among the Gentiles. Their witness was poor. Nobody was drawn to that way of living.


Of course, it’s helpful to ask ourselves a question in the light of that: How is my witness? Yours? Ours as a Body of Believers?


In an attribution that is unhelpfully murky, the theologian Martin Luther supposedly – in the light of justification (God’s act of removing the guilt and sin of the sinner-turned-Christian) – said that we are like piles of snow-covered dung. The point being that as far as God’s law is concerned, we are still pieces of poo, just covered in snow – an illustration of justification as a legal term.


If an unbeliever had to stop at the side of the road with me at the second Mile marker of the Romans road, and see what he thought was a snowman, only to discover on adding snow to it that underneath is poo, he may not be inclined to be impressed.


In my humble opinion (based on what I’ve read from smarter guys), there must also be a moral change in us and not just a legal one. A righteousness that is real, authentic, and derives entirely from the Holy Spirit working in and through us.


It must be possible to walk in righteousness, practically, and not just be covered in righteousness, legally. Paul writes elsewhere that we are new creations. This is what in theological circles is called ‘regeneration’.


If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation


The great preacher Spurgeon once remarked that as a work of God, making a Christian is greater and more awesome than making a world.


Why does he say that? Because the world had no option but to obey and be created and ordered by His command. A Christian consists of a new creation that is constantly fighting against his or her sinful flesh, but that can still walk in righteousness.


I’m sure I’ll see more of what Paul was saying about how the Christian should live by faith. I’m trucking on through Romans 3.


I quote the evangelist Charles Finney: “If the presence of God is in the church, the church will draw the world in. If the presence of God is not in the church, the world will draw the church out.”


I reckon the world may mock and harass us Christians, and yet still find our proximity to God frustratingly attractive; when reality comes calling and flesh fails, they should know who to turn to. I want to be that Christian, and part of that community that draws the world in.

Dumpster fire

A while ago I watched a sermon on YouTube by John MacArthur, and it was clear from his homily that he fears no man. I could picture in my mind’s eye the reaction of the legion of perpetually offended if they were to be presented with sound bites from MacArthur’s sermons.


MacArthur once said that if you preach the gospel and no-one is offended, you’re doing it wrong.


Now, the goal of preaching the gospel is not to offend, but it is a pretty reliable by-product, and that is because the sinner doesn’t want to be presented with the fact of his (or her) sin. It’s uncomfortable.


I imagine that John MacArthur would love to meet the apostle Paul.


Paul is writing to the church in Rome, Believers thriving and making a name for themselves in the belly of the pagan beast, resting on the seven hills of the empire’s capital. A quick online search shows around 900 churches in Rome and curiously, a Baptist congregation with specialised Sunday services for Africans, Filipinos and Chinese.


Paul sort of starts with the good news of where he’s leading us: the gospel being the power of salvation for everyone who believes, and the Christian who lives by faith:


Having told us where we will land, he takes off in the next verse and sets out to convince both the pagan and the pious that we are in need of salvation. Paul is like a prosecutor entering into the record the evidence of our misdeeds.


It’s brutal. Earth 2019 is a dumpster fire.



If the world ever found out about Romans 1 and 2 from us, or from coming across it accidentally, they would howl at what Paul writes.


No Hallmark cards that I know of quote this passage. No feel-good movies that I’ve ever watched come close to even touching the subject matter.


Paul has to convince us that we are utterly devoid of virtue before we can see that we are in need of salvation. And he does a pretty good job of that. His fellow Jews would hardly need to be convinced that the pagans were doomed, however Paul also reminds them that they do the same things, and behave in the same ways as the most unspiritual pagans.


If I can summarize this part of Romans it’s the idea of wrath. God is justifiably angry. Most people would obviously not like to consider this, especially as it pertains to them.


For those who simply follow their own desires, without consideration of God, the passage is terribly offensive. However from God’s point of view, the behaviour of those who live however they want is offensive to Him.


Rock, paper, scissors, God. He always wins.


The wrath that Paul writes about is building (Greek: Orge) and will one day reach a point of exploding (Greek: Thumos). For the modern reader it can be likened to being in traffic for an extended period with several incidents, one after the other, until the driver stuck in traffic can no longer contain himself and goes berserk. Of course the analogy is not sufficient, because with God it’s not an emotional reaction but a considered, moral imperative to punish sin.


One of the most genuinely terrifying ideas that Paul explores is the wrath of abandonment.


Sexual expression was created by Him, for enjoyment and procreation, to be kept for the marriage bed. Many people have cheapened and adulterated that gift and the wrath that He visits on them is to let them have their way, until its logical conclusion.


A movie scene comes to mind from ‘Brewster’s millions’:


In making a video for Montgomery Brewster to receive a fortune after his death, rich relative Rupert Horn recounts a story of getting busted smoking cigars while under aged. To teach him a lesson, his father locks him in a closet with a box of cigars and will only let him out when they’re finished. The thing is Rupert learns his lesson and his Dad ultimately lets him out of the closet. In the scenario where there is a wrath of abandonment, it seems like the closet stays closed unless the sinner comes to his senses asks to be let out. Although in terms of this type of wrath, they would never want to be let out.


That to me is genuinely scary. I want God to tell me when I’m wrong. I want correction. Some people don’t want that and they get what they want.


The idea that a cosmic thumping awaits earth is the MacGuffin in many Sci-Fi movies, a disaster that suddenly rears its head. An asteroid, a nuclear exchange, a zombie plague. Paul’s language (in contrast) presents the idea that God’s wrath is gradual and increasing.


His wrath is revealed (Greek: apocalypsis) from heaven. The idea in the passage is that people can deny that God’s way is clear, however if we eyes, ears and a brain, we can get an idea of what He is like and what He requires of us, even without Scripture. Merely from nature, and from life.


His wrath is revealed from heaven, and has been unfolding for a long time. As people, we collectively have been suppressing knowledge about Him by way of our wickedness.


A very popular idea nowadays is that man’s carbon footprint is causing extreme weather (also known as global warming, and since re-branded to climate change). In my view, it’s as possible that extreme weather could have man’s moral footprint as a cause as his carbon footprint.


If God can remove his restraining hand from our sinfulness if we kick Him out of our lives, why can nature not be an aspect of that? The curse of sin is expressed in creation and creation’s fall.


Paul writes of the Greek and the Jew. The pagan and the pious. Both are equally sinful and both are equally in need of salvation in Christ.


His kindness to those who know Scripture was meant to lead to repentance but instead they turned it into a license to sin. Expressed in the cynical view of former French president Mitterand: “God will forgive, that’s his job…”


Paul uses the word ‘stubborn’ to refer to the religious people in his day, the Greek word ‘skleretos’ which modern physicians will recognise as referring to a plaque build-up in the artery. The pious are as susceptible to sin as the rank pagan. Every pushback against God is like plaque build-up in the arteries.


The trajectory is pathological.


When you sit down and take the medicine that Paul is dishing out, it tastes bitter, but like the best medicine it leads to health.

The initiative

On a recent Sunday in May, as a church family we took part in communion.


A New Believer was sitting in the front row, the intricacies and practicalities of being a Christian still unfamiliar to her. She had not yet taken part in communion and when we were about to go to the table, she hesitated and stayed seated.


One of the ladies in the church, a mature Believer didn’t let her just sit there, but took her by the hands, encouraged her and went with her to the table. For the first time then, she had communion, united in fellowship with Christ and her fellow Christians.


It was a very cool thing to see, and having seen it, I saw a picture of myself.


Not knowing what to do.


Having no initiative.


What I saw played out with this new Christian reminded me that my Saviour bore his wounds for me, personally.


That he went to the cross for me, personally.


That when I was lost in my sins, he approached me, personally and took me by the hand to the table.


I can’t literally remember when I took part in communion for the first time, but I do remember that there was a time when a preacher delivering a sermon and making an appeal for me was like the very voice of God speaking to me, personally.


This is the difference between an intellectual position on God and a personal one.


He takes the initiative and all we have to do is respond.

Ek is ‘n Burger

Dit is net meer as ‘n week sedert die 2019 verskiesings in Suid-Afrika.


Ek het begin daaraan dink het het uitgekom by die gedagte dat ek ‘n deël van my land is, en ook nie ‘n deël daarvan nie.


Iets is fout; ek voel min oor die land se stem, Nkosi Sikeleli Afrika. Ek luister na BokRadio en lees ook Shakespeare. Ek ondersteun die Haaie, maar voel minder oor die Springbokke.


Gee my asseblief ‘n oomblik om te verduidelik. Ek het ‘n affiniteit vir Europese kultuur, vir my Moedertaal, Engels, tot die politieke struktuur van die Verenigde State en die geskiedenis van die Britse Eilande.


Maar ek is ook ‘n seun van die Afrika-vasteland. Diegene wat sinies is sal my daaraan herinner dat daar ‘n woord vir so ‘n mens bestaan. Dat ek ‘n ‘soutie’ is.


Dit is ‘n eenvoudige beskrywing van ‘n situasie wat vir my baie ingewikkeld is. Hierdie spanning tussen twee wêrelde is ook ‘n beskrywing van die spanning tussen my land en my Koning se koninkryk.


Deur my oë, is hierdie ‘n treurige land, vol ongerealiseerde potensiaal: wat ons kan wees as ‘n land, maar net nie is nie.


Ek het in 1999 Engeland toe gegaan en daar ontdek dat ek nie daar behoort nie. Ek is ‘n Suid-Afrikaner. Ek het met vrede en blydskap huis toe teruggekeer.


My land


Maar hoekom? Hoekoem het die Here my ‘n Suid-Afrikaner gemaak? Om watter rede was ek in hierdie land gebore? En op die tyd wat ek was? Hy alleen weet.


Ek dink aan Abram voordat hy Abraham geword het. Die Here het toe vir hom gesê dat hy uit sy land moet trek om na ‘n nuwe plek te gaan. Van Abram se voorbeeld, lyk dit asof die Here sorg dat mense in ‘n sekere land gebore is, maar ook dat vir Sy redes sommige van hulle moet ‘n trek ondergaan vir Sy bedoeling.


Vir die wat in ons Here glo, is daar ‘n spanning tussen ons land en ons Koning se koninkryk.


Daar is ook ‘n spanning tussen wat ons aardse tuisland was en wat dit word. Dit is waar ons nou is in Suid-Afrika.



Wat sal ons nader aan mekaar bring in hierdie land? Die waarheid dat ons almal kinders van die Here is. Die politiek is nie die antwoord nie, vir seker.


Ons kan almal terug verwys na ons geskiedenis. Ons het dit saam gedeel. Vir die wat glo in die Here, ons geloof bind ons saam.


Geskiedenis en geloof.


Ek is ‘n burger van die hemel. Dit is my geloof.


Ek is ‘n burger van my land. Dit is ons geskiedenis. En my gebed aan die Here is vir ons toekoms.

Elections 2019

The electorate didn’t really embrace the sentiment in this poster
Ordering some lattes and cappuccinos
Coffee run after voting early in the morning
A new dawn days after the election, same stale politics though
God takes care of His own