A Life For God

Rev. Pieter Stok. Trowel and Sword, October 1994.

Preamble: In the movie, “Dead Poet’s Society,” Robin Williams, who plays the part of teacher John Keating, tells his class of boys, “We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion.” He then goes on to equate poetry with life with the words, “….the powerful play (of life) goes on, and you may contribute a verse. That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse. What will your verse be?”

In the article below where Pieter reflects about the passing of his dad, he came to understand that there are many ways that one can write a verse in the poetry of life. We are all in the process of writing our own verses, often without realising it; not as mighty preachers or evangelists, but more often as humble Christians going about our daily lives reflecting God’s love to those around us without even realising it.

A Life For God

What link is there between the state of our denomination, a funeral and my dad? A strange question you think. Please allow me to string some of my jumbled thoughts together.

Recently my dad passed away. It is an occurrence that happens to most of us at some stage of our life. But it is also a time for reflection. It is a time when a host of thoughts cram our heads – some related, others not. It is an emotional time. It is a time of sorrow, regrets, memories, hopes and certainties. In my life this painful event came at a time when my mind was filled with other matters.

For a while, like many of us, I have been concerned about the condition of our churches. The obsession is manifested in the number of ‘disturbed’ churches, and the seeming paralysis in the area of mission, evangelism and kingdom service are matters which disturb me greatly. They have been on my mind for quite a while now.

Then my dad died. While living a very active and happy ‘retirement’ God stopped him very early one Wednesday morning and after dad had been hooked on to life support equipment for 30 hours, He took dad to be with Himself.

As we were preparing for the funeral, I thought to myself: ‘It will be a small funeral.’ After all, I have only one brother, there are only seven grandchildren and there are not many other relatives. As well as this, his church is small. I estimated to myself – we will probably have 100 people there if that many. Wasn’t I surprised when well over twice that number attended? Many of these people never normally attend church services. A phrase that I heard repeated by many people over the days and weeks after dad’s death was: ‘He was like a brother to me.’ That phrase struck me. Many people were there because my dad had shown love and commitment to them over many years. He had been their greengrocer and friend; he had played music for them and with them. In his latter years he faithfully did his ‘meals on wheels’ deliveries, and he was involved in a variety of groups.

My dad was relatively uneducated. He had been labourer, factory worker, greengrocer and farmer. By every financial measurement he had been a failure. But he was committed to people –  committed to loving them and caring for them. And this was despite the fact that he could be stubborn, intolerant and hot tempered. My dad was no saint – ask any of his past ministers or elders. But he did know Jesus. And more importantly, Jesus knew him. If you looked carefully, Jesus could be glimpsed in his life and people saw it and were touched by it.

In his death and through his funeral my dad, who had influenced my life greatly, was still teaching me. He reminded me of what was really important. Serving God with the gifts and talents you have and with the personality He has given you is what He calls us to do. We each have a task. Education and wealth has nothing to do with it.

I believe my dad’s life has a message for the church – the Reformed Church. If we are going to be the people God wants us to be, serving Him as He calls us to serve Him, then we need our sleeves rolled up and we need to work in the world. We need to love people ‘out there’ because if the church (you and me) does not show that love, who will show them the love of Christ?

How many close friends do you have who are outside the church of Christ? How many non-churched people will be at our funerals because we have touched their lives in a real way? If we were all as serious about showing Christ to others, as this imperfect man was, what an enormous impact our church could have!

My dad’s life also proves that we do not have to be educated or extremely articulate to be the servant God wants us to be – all that is needed is that humble desire to be His servant. His life proves that we do not have to have done EE3 or Christianity Explained or have a well developed theory of mission. He had none of that.

My dad’s garden was nothing to write home about. It was not his priority. But the day we buried him many of his ‘garden’ farewelled him. This ‘garden’ was the people he tended, cared for and loved.

These were people who needed a friend, who had been hurt, or needed help. But even then, he would be the first to admit that he was only just starting to reflect the one who loved him perfectly – Jesus Christ.

Jesus Christ loved (and still loves) Maarten Stok. That love enabled him to touch the lives of others. I ask myself: ‘How many lives have I touched?’ ‘How many lives are we, the church, touching because Christ first loved us?’

Pieter Stok

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