After all, we are human beings
In the beginning, Theo Wierema was just an insistent fellow. For five years, he would religiously send invitations to my office in Barcelona, inviting me to a lecture in Hague, the Netherlands.
In the beginning, Theo Wierema was just an insistent fellow. For five years, he would religiously send invitations to my office in Barcelona, inviting me to a lecture in Hague, the Netherlands.
For five years my office answered that my schedule was full. Though the schedule isn’t always full; however, a writer isn’t necessarily someone who speaks well in public. In addition, everything I need to say is in the books and columns I write — that’s why I always try to avoid conferences.
Theo found out that I was going to record a programme for a TV channel in the Netherlands. When I went to the set, he was waiting for me in the hotel lobby.
He introduced himself and asked to accompany me, saying:
“I’m not a person that can’t take a ‘no’ for an answer. But I just believe that I’m trying to reach my goal the wrong way.”
We should fight for our dreams, but we should also know that when certain paths seem impossible, it is best to save our energies by taking the other road. I could simply say “no”, but I decided to try something more diplomatic: set impossible conditions to be fulfilled.
I said I would do a lecture for free, but the ticket should not cost more than two euros and the room should have a maximum of 200 people.
Theo agreed.
“You’ll spend more money than you’ll make,” I warned him. “By my calculations, just the ticket and hotel will cost three times what you’ll earn if you are able to fill the room. In addition, there are publicity costs, renting the place...”
Theo interrupted me, saying none of this was important: he was doing it because of what he saw in his profession.
“I organise events because I need to keep believing that the human being is in search of a better world. I need to contribute so that this becomes possible.”
“What is your profession ”
“I sell churches.”
And for my astonishment, he went on. “I work for the Vatican and I’m in charge of selecting buyers, given there are more churches than faithful in the Netherlands. And as we have already had bad experiences in the past as seeing sacred places becoming discos, condos, boutiques and even sex-shops, the sale system has changed. Now the project has to be approved by the community; the buyer has to say what he will do with the estate: we generally accept those proposals that include a cultural centre, a charity institution or a museum. And what does this has to do with your lecture and the other ones I am trying to organise People are no longer meeting other people. When they don’t meet, they aren’t able to grow.”
Looking at me steadily, he concluded. “Meetings. That was exactly my mistake. Instead of sending you a mail, I should have shown you at once that I am made of flesh and bone. Once, when I wasn’t able to receive an answer from a certain politician, I went and knocked at his door, and he said, ‘If you want something, you need to show your eyes.’ Ever since, I have been doing this and have got positive results. We have all types of communication in the world, but nothing, absolutely nothing substitutes the eyes of the human being.”
Of course, I ended up accepting the proposal.
P.S.: When I went to Hague for the lecture, knowing that my wife, an artist, always wanted to create a cultural centre, I proposed to see some of the churches for sale. I asked for the price of one that normally took 500 parishioners on Sundays: it costed one euro, even though maintenance costs might be high.
Translated by Bettina Dungs