23. Home Visitation (II).
Once again, I had the
privilege of accompanying the pastor on home visits. The Vredenstein family was
next in line for the official visit. However, they informed us that they could
not accommodate us due to a niece’s birthday celebration on the same day.
After three unsuccessful
attempts to schedule visits with families who were either on night shifts,
redecorating their living rooms, or dealing with illnesses such as chicken pox
or bronchitis, we finally found the Bakker family willing to receive us. Their
readiness was a refreshing change after a series of disappointments. The
cooperation of the congregation members during home visitation season can
sometimes be quite remarkable, for all the wrong reasons!
We arrived at the Bakker
family home in high spirits. Three children, aged between ten and eighteen,
were quickly ushered into the kitchen, but were promptly called back when the pastor,
trying to be funny, clarified that we weren’t there for an “over eighteen” film
screening.
The customary comments about
the harsh winter and the approaching spring were swiftly addressed. Then,
somewhat naively, I asked the indiscreet question: did the Bakkers enjoy life
in Canada and in the Canadian immigrant church?
“No,” they responded
unanimously.
Out of curiosity and
politeness, the following brief but deeply significant question was inevitable:
“Why not?”
The head of the household
seemed ready for this question. He launched into a lengthy discourse, which
essentially conveyed the following: “Life here is so boring; there’s no
vitality. There’s never anything to do in Canada or in the church, and there’s
nowhere to go. There is nothing happening here.”
Father Bakker expressed that the people were not the problem, but rather the lack of output from them; that in Canada, one would spend the entire evening watching television out of sheer boredom, whereas in Holland there was always something enjoyable to do.
Father Bakker further stated that while the pastor’s sermons were fine, the rest of church life lacked pleasure due to the absence of any activities. Each person had to find their own entertainment, as nothing was organized for either the young or the old. He concluded by saying that without activity, there is no life, and without life, there is only death. Naturally, no one dared to challenge this final assertion.
After Father Bakker had vented
his frustrations, the pastor and I felt obliged to mitigate the damage as best
we could. We had to act swiftly, as Father Bakker was preparing to reiterate
his “there is nothing happening here” declaration.
To avoid a second gloomy
monologue, we both began to speak simultaneously. As the audience turned their
attention to the pastor, I quickly fell silent. The pastor spoke passionately
and gratefully about the many blessings bestowed upon us in this strange but
free land. He emphasized that anyone who loves the Lord should never be bored.
He questioned whether Bakker’s neighbour, Pete Pippenger: Carpet Cleaner and Upholsterer
(we had chuckled at his illuminated sign before entering Bakker’s house), was
also a Christian and whether Bakker had ever spoken to him about the gospel and
the way of salvation.
Together, we attempted to
explain to Father Bakker why we were in Canada as Christians. After much
discussion, we compiled a substantial list of societies, clubs, and
organizations for immigrants of all ages. It emerged that neither Brother or Sister
Bakker attended men’s or women’s Bible study groups, and their children did not
attend youth clubs or participate in the coffee house, having been influenced
by their father’s “there is nothing happening here” narrative.
As we prepared to leave, we
asked Father Bakker if he now understood that there was plenty of activity and
life in the immigrant community, if he would only open his eyes and ears.
We felt that we had won a small victory when he said that he would think about it, .
Upon returning home half an
hour later, I found Katrien alone in the living room. The youngest children were
in bed, and the others had gone to the youth clubs, choir, a hockey game with
some friends, and a birthday party at one of the young people.
My wife was sulking because
she had been left alone, and, in a voice laden with self-pity, she declared, “There
was nothing happening here!”
I choked on my coffee and
cake, and Katrien had to pat vigorously my back.
Dof, Arie. (1958). “Huisbezoek
(II).” (George van Popta, Trans., 2024). In Arie en Katrien in Canada (pp.
96-99). Hamilton, Ontario: Guardian. (Original work published in Calvinist
Contact [Christian Courier]).
