9. LONELINESS
Katrien, with a sigh, placed the Dutch church magazine
she had just finished reading on the table. “At least I don’t get angry when I
sigh,” she stated. Yet, her face was a clear canvas of irritation. The source
of this irritation was a certain gentleman who had journeyed to our beloved
Canada and returned to Holland, believing that the church community needed to
be enlightened about his travel experiences.
I usually enjoy travel narratives. However, in this magazine,
I came across something that not only disturbed my wife but also me. It was
about the loneliness in Canada. Of course, there’s much to discuss about this,
and only a myopic immigrant would argue that it is always and only easy to be a
Dutchman in Canada. Our own experiences tell a different story. But to our
dismay, the esteemed writer proceeded to blame our immigrant churches in Canada
for nurturing this loneliness among the people. The world traveler had spent
six weeks in Canada, and now he claimed to know everything about our churches
here. He criticized the church for being unwelcoming, for alienating people,
and for driving them into loneliness. That’s quite an opinion!
I can handle criticism of the church, and there are
times when I find certain aspects of church life disagreeable, as long as the
criticism is truthful and constructive!
But this writer painted a rather exaggerated picture.
He reported that the Dutch, who were part of the immigrant churches in Canada, used to enjoy the occasional bottle of beer when they still lived in their old homeland, but the church
leaders in Canada viewed beer drinking as evidence of worldliness; also, that the
immigrants in Canada would have liked to occasionally visit the cinema, but
this was not permitted “according to the church.” These prohibitions created
such a restrictive environment that many did not feel comfortable in the
immigrant churches and ended up feeling spiritually isolated.
I have personally encountered these lonely Dutchmen in
Canada, but in my naïveté, I never understood that a beer and a movie could
liberate them from their solitude, as long as the beer and film were sanctified
by spirituality. I always believed that their loneliness had deeper roots. I
mulled over it a bit more, and eventually, I dozed off in my armchair behind
the newspaper, much to Katrien’s renewed irritation.
In my dream, a church council meeting took place where
a proposal by Arie Dof was unanimously approved. The proposal aimed to
alleviate the loneliness of lonely congregation members by organizing film
screenings and beer events.
These insightful words had an impact. The following
week, a meeting was organized “on a more mature cultural basis,” as reported in
our church bulletin. The Hollywood drama “Pistols and Passion” was screened,
and beer was served during the intermission. This was well-received. The lonely
started feeling more at home. They cheerfully looked at each other, licking the
beer foam off their lips. The spokesperson later declared on behalf of
everyone, “The movie was a hit, and the beer was excellent!”
It was Sunday, and five minutes to ten, the pastor
stood in the consistory room, nervously adjusting the collar of his toga. He
anxiously awaited the moment when he could survey the congregation, fervently
hoping that the cultural adventures had brought the lonely back into the fold.
However, his expression turned sombre as he stood
before the congregation, and after the service he bitterly told the elders,
“The lonely seem to prefer their solitude over fellowship with God and his people.”
This minor comment had significant repercussions. The
church council promptly decided to discontinue the movie and beer evenings,
choosing instead to reach out to and engage the lonely solely through the
living Gospel. “That church magazine writer from Holland didn’t quite get it
either, Arie,” remarked neighbour Jan Mol on the way home.
“Oh,” I responded nonchalantly, “We can’t really blame
the man; he was only in Canada for a few weeks. It’s difficult to grasp the
nuances here.”
“Then he should have kept his opinions to himself,” Brother
Mol retorted.
I then woke up, stiff and drenched in sweat. “So,
you’re back with us, charming suitor?” Katrien greeted me, “One could feel
lonely in your company.”
Apparently, my expression was so peculiar that she
asked with concern, “Has the heat gotten to you, Arie? Would you prefer a bottler
of beer over coffee?”
That was exactly what I wanted. An elder in Canada
doesn’t need to shy away from the fizzy, yellow Calvinist beverage, which
deserves a more poetic name than the mundane: “beer.”
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