The Rev Aubrey P.F. Hoffman

13 July, 1955 – 21 December, 1988

Peter G. van Dam, Trowel & Sword. Jan/Feb 1989
With contributions by Willem Schultink & Jessamine Remminga (nee Schultink)

Preamble: What do you do when your best friend is killed in a traffic accident? When your daughter just survives the accident? When they are on the road to doing God’s work in this world. Aubrey Hoffman was good man who loved the Lord with his whole heart and gave all his energy to bringing God’s Word to people. Both those who already knew, and those who needed to hear. When this accident happened, he was on the way to Manjimup with some young people from our church for a letter box drop. My daughter, one of the young people in the car, has written some closing thoughts. They are at the end of this article. All of it is well worth your time to read. (Willem) 

The Rev Aubrey P.F. Hoffman

Silence fell upon our churches here in Western Australia and then also upon all our churches in Australia, when word reached them that the Rev Aubrey Hoffman and two young people of the Brunswick Junction Church had died in a traffic accident, on 21 December.

Mr. Hoffman and five young people of the Church had gone on their way to distribute pamphlets in Manjimup, 100 km south of Brunswick Junction, to invite people of the town to join in the Christmas service which he would conduct there with the members of the church and regular visitors in the area, for whom he had been conducting their twice-monthly Sunday worship service during the past two years. While travelling south, a truck moved out of a side road without giving any attention at all to possible traffic on the highway. A collision was unavoidable. Upon impact Mr. Hoffman and two of the young people, Hagar Carelse (22) and her brother Mark (14), must have died instantly before the mini-bus, in which they were travelling, burst into flames.

Hagar and Mark were the only two of the five children of Mr. and Mrs. Carelse who had come with them from South Africa when Mr. Carelse took up the position of principal of the small ‘Unity Christian School’ at Brunswick Junction which had been set up by the members of the church. A couple who had been driving behind the mini-bus helped the other three young people escape. Two of them are in hospital as they suffered from internal bleeding and cracked vertebrae: Jessie Schultink and Ida van Zonneveld. Marit Noordermeer was the only passenger who attended the funeral service.

Thus far the Lord has given Sister Hoffman extraordinary strength and courage. We were relieved to hear that her parents would come over the following day. For Mr. Hoffman Sr., Rev. Aubrey Hoffman’s father who had come over from Sri Lanka about two years ago to stay with his son and family, the event was tragic in deed; his son died on exactly the same day on which his wife had died five years ago. Our thoughts have gone to Mr. and Mrs. Carelse no less, in their distress; their other children being so far away.

Following the completion of his studies at the Reformed Theological College at the end of 1979 it took almost four years before the Lord called Brother Hoffman to the ministry of His Word. He was ordained in this His holy office in the Brunswick Junction Church, on 26 February, 1984. At that time the Brunswick Junction Church had been vacant for eight years as it had not been in a position to call a minister. When the Classis granted Brunswick Junction permission to call a minister it at the same time committed itself to assisting the Church in its support of a minister. However, as Mr. Hoffman continued his ministry with the church the moment arrived when it informed the Classis that it was no longer in need of its assistance.

Among the ways – besides those in his own church – in which the Lord had blessed Brother Hoffman’s ministry were those of the organisation of – and the ministry of the Word to – a group of former church members and other christians in Manjimup. He led them in their twice monthly worship services. Just very recently the decision was made that, beginning with the new year, worship services would be held every Sunday in Manjimup. During more recent years Mr Hoffman had taken on an active interest in the spiritual needs of students at the West-Australian College of Advanced Education, Bunbury Campus. Meantime, he had also endeavoured to come closer to the Aboriginal community in Brunswick Junction with which members of the church had already had contacts for many years. For the past two years the Rev. Hoffman had also served as the chairman of the State Youth Council of our WA Churches.

Perhaps there was no more convincing testimony to the way the Lord had used Brother Hoffman in the ministry of His Word than that of the very, very many who attended the funeral ‘Thanksgiving Service’, held on 30 December at the Brunswick Junction Church. More than two hundred people attended; far more than the church building could accommodate. Among them were many members of the Perth Churches and of Manjimup, people from other places such as Bridgetown, many residents of Brunswick Junction, students of the WACAE. And many aborigines.

In conducting the funeral service, Rev. S. Bajema preached on the well-known opening words of Psalm 91; words so full of truth and comfort:
‘He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High 
will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. 
I will say of the Lord, ‘He is my Refuge
and my Fortress; my God in Whom I trust.’

It is a text often read also at the close of another year or at the beginning of a new year!
A word was conveyed prepared by the Synodical Interim Committee on behalf of all the churches of our denomination. Sister Hoffman had prepared a very gracious response, inserted in the order of service, to the very many who had been supporting her. In her response she wrote:  ‘Aubrey would want the Brunswick congregation to remember these thoughts: ‘Don’t be fainthearted or afraid” (Deut.20:3);’ , those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength’ (Isa.40:31); ‘Finally, be strong in the Lord and in His mighty power’ (Eph.6:10).

She wanted the comfort of the Lord, once expressed by her husband when he wrote in the local paper on Psalm 23, to reach Mr and Mrs Carelse. And all of us. Brother Hoffman had also been very close to his colleagues in the small Classis of WA. More importantly at this time: the whole of the Brunswick Junction Church, all of its members, rallied round Sister Hoffman and the family, Brother Hoffman, Snr. and Brother and Sister Carelse. At the funeral service all present knew and experienced the blessing of the truth of Psalm 133: ‘How good and pleasant it is when brothers live together in unity …; for there the Lord be stows His blessing, even life for evermore’.

For, yes, at that service it was so evident beyond doubt that the Lord had taken from us those who had become dear to us who had known them. The memory we have of them will not fade easily.May the Lord then, by His own Word and Spirit, keep, guide and encourage Sister Hoffman in her care for the four children He had given our brother and sister, their ages ranging from six years to three months. They will move to Melbourne where Sister Hoffman’s relatives live. And where the body of Mr Hoffman will be committed to the earth.

May He keep Brother Hoffman, Sr. close to Himself.
May He continue to comfort Brother and Sister Carelse in the sudden stillness of their home.
May the Lord continue to show His love for the Brunswick Junction Church; prove and confirm unto her the blessings of the work which He had granted his loyal servant to do in her midst and with her support and whom He has now taken to higher service. May He Himself provide in the need for the Church of the continuation of the ministry of His Word.

On behalf of the Churches of Classis Western Australia.

Peter G.van Dam

My Grace Is Sufficient For You

Willem Schultink. Trowel & Sword. Jan/Feb 1989

Why?
That burning question. 
Why?

Aubrey.
My Brother.
I loved you dearly,
As my brother in the Lord.

We could uphold each other,
Build each other.
Share our joys.
And our sorrows.

Care for each other,
In the hard times.
Really Rejoice
In God’s blessings.

We had so many plans
So many things we
Were going to achieve together.
So much to do.

Now you are gone.
Why, dear Lord?
‘My grace is sufficient for you.’
Always.

27 December 1988.

Reflection by Jess Remminga (Schultink)

Any time is a bad time for a car accident, but I’d hazard a guess that just before Christmas is a particularly bad time for anyone. I was 13 when my pastor and two young people were killed as we were travelling for our church’s Christmas letter box drops. Chatting with the girls in the seat behind, all I remember was Aubrey’s shout, “Look out!”, a great swerve as I caught one glance of an ancient, faded blue-green Dodge truck before a horrendous crunch, and black, and fire. Then I was sitting on the side of the road, on a towel, in the gravel, with a trail of water running by, hearing explosions. A passer-by had gone into the burning wreck and pulled us out. 

The ripples ran wide. 
A church had lost its pastor. 
A wife, her husband. 
Four little children, one just a new baby, their dad. 
Parents, their children. 
A man, his best friend. 
And me? That single event has been the pivot point of my life. 
Before: A golden childhood, a simple faith, and a God who kept me safe. 
After: Long years of working out how a good God could allow such suffering. 
It felt like a slap in the face. 
Yet….he’s not a tame Lion.

The survivor guilt and the ‘what-ifs’ were bad. 
We had just stopped and swapped seats. I had been in the front. If we hadn’t Mark would have made it and I would have died. 
Hagar was right beside me. Death literally touched me as we were thrown about the car.
If we hadn’t stopped, or if we had stopped a little longer, would it have even happened? Would we have completely missed that truck pulling out when it did? 
Would those little children still have their daddy?
What was it like for my mum, fielding the first phone call (in the days before mobile phones) from a country hospital and hearing her daughter in tears on the end of the line; knowing it was bad and going straight to be with Debbie when the police came knocking. 

Nearly 38 years on, (yes, still counting, I think I always will) I still don’t understand why God allowed this great grief. It doesn’t seem to make sense this side of eternity.
I do know that I have been grown by this long, unfinished, wrestle with God. I understand Job better now, though it has taken a long time. 
I understand from the inside the grief that cries out AND the faith that holds on. 

There is a Love that will not let you go. 
There is a warm Presence who walks beside you through the dark night.
And in the blackest darkness there is a voice that whispers, “Courage, dear heart”.

For those who are suffering and it doesn’t make sense – it’s okay to question God. It’s okay to throw big emotions at him. 
He can handle it.
You can trust him to hold you even when you’re devastated and angry and in despair. 

Why?

Because ‘the eternal God is your refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms.”

So I say with Job:
“I know that my Redeemer lives, 
and in the end he will stand upon the earth, 
and after my skin has been destroyed,
yet in my flesh I will see God. 
I, and not another. 
How my heart yearns within me.”

And I hold onto the promise that one day he will 
‘wipe every tear from our eyes. 
There will be no more death, or mourning or crying or pain, 
for the old order of things [will have] passed away. 
Behold, he is making all things new… 
… these words are trustworthy and true.’

Jessamine Remminga
July 2026

PS. Life is good, and I am thankful.