The funeral service will be held on Thur., Aug. 6, 2009
Evangelical Presbyterian Church
701 Mohawk Parkway
Cape Coral, FL 33914

Visitation, 12:00 – 1:00 PM, followed by a funeral service, processional to Coral Ridge Cemetery, and reception at the church.

Dr. Claassen's family and church family exclaims to everyone, "We rejoice with Oliver as he is exalting our Lord and Savior, reminding us that the mystery of the Gospel is this, 'Christ in you the Hope of Glory.'"

BIO continued - For the last nine years, Oliver served as the senior pastor of Evangelical Presbyterian Church in Cape Coral, FL.  Prior to that, he served as Missions Pastor at Twin Oaks Presbyterian Church in Saint Louis, MO, Sr. Pastor of Westminster Presbyterian Church in Atlanta, GA, Missionary and Church Planter in Australia, with Mission to the World (MTW), and schoolteacher in South Africa.

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Rev. Dr. Claasen has had this poem on his church's website page entitled 'Reflections On Grace'...

 

 

"The Kite"

by John Newton

My waking dreams are best conceal’d;
Much folly, little good they yield
But now and then I gain, when sleeping,
A friendly hint, that’s worth the keeping;
Lately I dream’d of one who cried,
“Beware of self, beware of pride;
When you are prone to build a Babel,
Recall to mind this little fable.”

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Once on a time a paper kite
Was mounted to a wondrous height,
Where, giddy with its elevation,
It thus expressed self-admiration:
”See how yon crowds of gazing people
Admire my flight above the steeple;
How they would wonder if they knew
All that a kite like me can do?

Were I but free, I’d take a flight,
And pierce the clouds beyond their sight.
“But, ah! Like a poor pris’ner bound,
My string confines me near the ground:
I’d brave the eagle’s tow’ring wing,
Might I but fly without a string.”
It tugged and pulled, while thus it spoke
To break the string; at last it broke.

Deprived at once of all its stay,
In vain it tried to soar away;
Unable its own weight to bear,
It fluttered downward through the air;
Unable its own course to guide,
The winds soon plunged it in the tide.
Ah! foolish kite; thou hadst no wing;
How couldst thou fly without a string?

My heart replied, “O Lord, I see
how much this kite resembles me!

Forgetful that by thee I stand,
Impatient of thy ruling hand;
“How oft I’ve wished to break the lines
Thy wisdom for my lot assigns?
How oft indulged a vain desire
For something more or something higher.
And but for grace or love divine,
A fall thus dreadful had been mine.”  

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