Het is geen man
Die niet roken kan
Smoking in Lutjegast
That little vignette is one I grew up with in
my Dutch village Lutjegast. It means simply that if you don’t smoke, you’re not
a man. And our village meant it, seriously. As a young boy, I knew every single
person in the 1100-person village, barring none. And I knew a great deal of
child-appropriate stuff about almost everyone, barring one or two. But there were two categories of people who
puzzled me: those who were not married and those who did not smoke! That married thing affected both genders, but
the smoking only males. Women did not smoke, period. One who did would hardly
be considered female—the complete opposite.
And smoke the men did—with a few exceptions,
but they were not men anyway, these mysterious creatures. Everyone, from pauper
to pastor smoked. Though pretty well all Christians in today’s Canada oppose
smoking and see it as an unhealthy addiction, that was not the case in Lutjegast
or in the rest of the country. Even our church elders during their monthly
meetings would smoke cigarettes, pipes or cigars, possibly accompanied by
wine. My Dad, a serious Christian, was
one of the main cigarette merchants in town. As Christians, we were strictly
opposed to so-called “worldly amusements,” but smoking was not one of them.
As to myself, during my early teens I was
eager to join the ranks of adult men. One of the rights of passage to arrive
there was to smoke. So, I would rush the season by occasionally “borrowing” a
package of cigarettes from my Dad’s supply and share cigarettes with my
friends. Just imagine the hero I was!
Ah, yes, we were getting there!
Imagine our surprise when we immigrated to
Canada in 1951. For the first time in our lives we met Christians who thought
smoking sinful, especially Baptists.
What kind of Christians are these? we wondered. Smoking sin? Aw, get off the pot (pun intended)! We were from a Reformed church in The
Netherlands and smoked lustily right after our Christian Reformed (CRC) morning
service—outside, for all to see. We
became known as the “smoking church,” a derisive distinction among Canadian
Christians.
That was the 1950s.
Baptist versus
Reformed
The tradition continued for some time after
our immigration to BC, also in my own life. Though I was too young to be a
dedicated smoker, Dad did occasionally allow me to smoke a cigarette. I have
several pictures from that period of my smoking, one of them in our living room
right after coming home from church. Over time I became a regular smoker,
though never a heavy one. I actually went in and out—quit and resumed, quit and
resumed. Later, during my 50s in Nigeria, I would smoke an occasional cigar or pipe, but Nigerian Christians
severely reprimanded me. I eventually gave that up as well, not because I
considered it sin, but it hurt my throat and vocal chords—which, I guess, did
turn it into a sin, since we are not to abuse our bodies. My Dad, he was a
chain smoker for some 40 years.
Fast forward to the 21st
century—2016. Somewhere along the line at around 60, my Dad suddenly quit cold
turkey and from there on chastised anyone who could not manage such a drastic
change—really, kind of hypocritical. But today you will hardly see anyone
smoking after a CRC service. Neither will elders smoke during their meetings.
We’ve become Canadians! Indigenized.
Smoking is sin, we now argue vigorously. The Baptists were ahead of their time.
Well our time anyhow. Not just time
wise, but even ethic-wise. They were
right; we were wrong! Wow, that was a hard one to swallow. Baptists more right than we Reformed? Was that possible? Well, they were, possible or not. Some of us are still smarting from that
humiliation!
But in Canada we’re pretty well on one page
on this one now, Baptist or Reformed, Christian or Secular. There’s a strong
awareness that smoking kills and is, in fact, one of the most ferocious killers
in the country. Many places are now out
of bounds to smokers, including restaurants and city parks, most major
buildings, not to speak of church facilities. Remaining smokers are feeling the
pressure and are defensive. Things have turned topsy-turvy. Now it’s almost a matter of
Het
is geen man
Die nog roken kan
“It’s not a man who still smokes,” but now
women (vrouw-en) have to be included as well, like:
Het is geen man of vrouw
Die nog roken wou
By now you can probably figure it out! But,
just in case, here it is in the Queen’s English:
It is not a man or woman
Who still wants to smoke
Doesn’t quite sound like a limerick in
English, but it makes the point.
The following public practices have become
offensive and are seen as ill-mannered:
Smoking in any crowd, thereby forcing people
to inhale your secondary smoke, even on the sidewalk, at a bus stop, in the
park or on the beach.
Dumping
your cigarette butt carelessly on the street. It’s considered littering,
especially when your city has attached butt trays
to lamp posts for that purpose.
Smoking yourself to death at my expense. Of
course, that holds for all unhealthy
practices, some of which, I am hesitant to admit, I practice as well. So we all end up in the same ball park.
What of those who argue smoking is part of
our freedom? Should it even be
that? When it creates so much sickness
leading to death and I have to pay for the results of your addiction through
our medical system? Why should I? Our
forced insurance system logically leads to a great increase of my public responsibility
for my health and for a restriction of my freedom to smoke or engage in other
personally harmful practices. I have at least the moral, if not legal, right to
demand you stop. Through our insurance system, we have become each other’s
keepers—exactly where Jesus wanted us to begin with. It took a Baptist preacher-politician
to get us there almost over the dead bodies of the RCMP.
Even as a human right smoking is now frowned
upon. The last couple of days there’s
been a story in the media about an employer who for years has refused to hire
anyone who smokes, on or off the job, even at home. Even in “human
rights-cracy” Canada, so far no one has sued him. No one has yet tried to make
a quick legal buck of this practice? That says something about how far we’ve
come—a long way indeed.
What of those who argue smoking is part of
our freedom? Should it even be
that? When it creates so much sickness
leading to death and I have to pay for the results of your addiction through
our medical system? Why should I? Our
forced insurance system logically leads to a great increase of my public responsibility
for my health and for a restriction of my freedom to smoke or engage in other
personally harmful practices. I have at least the moral, if not legal, right to
demand you stop. Through our insurance system, we have become each other’s
keepers—exactly where Jesus wanted us to begin with. It took a Baptist preacher-politician
to get us there almost over the dead bodies of the RCMP.
The best solution to all this is to encourage
each other to live our lives along the best health guidelines as possible and
remember our responsibility to each other.
Now try that last version of that Dutch
limerick on your smoking friend!
