Wednesday 15th April
This promised to be a somewhat gentle day and yet it ended
it tears, literally! I was scheduled to be at morning devotions with the Bishop
and diocesan team and then some work in the office. These did happen, allowing
me time to connect to the internet and post a blog, chat to Alice and discover
yet more similarities in our lives, and I also got a sermon written for Sunday
which was great.
My afternoon activity was scheduled to be a meeting of the
Women’s Fellowship, which I was to take part in and share a little
encouragement. However, a death in the church community meant that it was
cancelled to allow the women to be part of the burial. Pastoral emergencies and
funerals are part and parcel of ministry and they must take priority. Rev.
Pamela, however, rather than wanting to leave me out of it, thought that this was
important exposure for me during training. I was extremely hesitant I have to
say but I thought perhaps God intended for me to see this aspect of ministry
specifically in an African context. I hadn’t been prepared for this but I
decided this was a time to go with the Spirit!
We walked (I, carrying my backpack with my laptop, massive
study bible and some books) for around 30 minutes in intense heat, on the windy,
dusty, rocky path to the house of the deceased gentleman’s house. From a far it
might have looked, in a Western context, like a garden party. There were about
5 huge marquees placed around the front and side of the house, crammed with
hundreds of people sitting on plastic garden chairs, as is the norm here! They
were beating drums and singing and there looked to be some cooking going on. I
have to admit at this point I had no idea what I was about to walk into as it
looked nothing like any funeral I have ever been to! Everywhere I go I am
treated like clergy and expected to behave like clergy so in these
circumstances it’s always best to follow what the others do.
As we drew nearer to the gathering I could see that there
was a coffin situated in the middle of the marquee nearest the door of the house. Pamela
walked close to the coffin, bowed her head and prayed for a few minutes and I
followed suit. I prayed that God would give me wisdom, discernment and
compassion for the situation, as the whole setup was new to me, I had only met
the deceased once and the whole thing would be conducted in Lugbara. We then
sat until a lady came to direct us to a room which would be used as a vestry.
Pamela and I sat there for a few minutes until the Provost, Solomon and Rev.
Collins arrived. A lady then arrived with a jug and bucket of water for our
hands. As we eat with our hands a lot here, hand washing is always available
and expected but usually you go to the sink or jerry can for yourself. Instead,
the lady got on her hands and knees and held out the bowl. I put my hands over
the bowl and she gently poured water, allowed time for me to grab the soap bar
and then she poured water again to rinse. She then proceeded to do the same with
the rest. There is an incredible sense of humility in these ladies when they do
this and it’s slightly awkward and embarrassing as I would hate to give the
impression that I think I am better than anyone or expect to be served like
this, but it’s a cultural norm I cannot get around. We were presented with our
meal of enyasa, chicken and sauce, or soup as it is called here.
After eating, the three clergy put their robes on and I was
invited to lead their procession. As if I had any clue what to do, where to go,
or how to behave. The pressure was on at such an important occasion. I gave it
my best shot, with Pamela whispering the odd instruction from behind me. We sat
in a line of wooden chairs at the head of the coffin. John (the deceased) was a
prison guard and some of work friends gave a tribute, then his daughter
explained what had happened during his last days as the death was unexpected.
The Provost then gave his sermon based on Matthew 24: 36-44, about not knowing
the day or the hour of return. I had only met John once, as had the clergy! On
Sundays Solomon always asks if there are visitors and last week John stood up.
He was invited along with any other visitors to come to the vestry and sign the
visitor’s book. That morning John gave his life to Christ and less than 24
hours later he very unexpectedly died!
After the sermon we sang a hymn, during which a collection
was taken to help the family cover the expenses of the funeral and hospitality
associated with it. Then the family and close friends were invited forward to
place flowers on the coffin and say their last goodbye. It was at this point,
when the cloth was removed from the top that I realised two things: the coffin
had a sort of window, to let the family see John’s face and also the coffin
wasn’t yet properly closed. The next step deeply affected and moved me. With his
sister and children gathered around, as well as the hundreds of other mourners,
a man proceed to hammer nails into the coffin to shut it. The emotional
intensity at this point was unbelievable, the women literally wailed and
screamed as the rest of the congregation were invited to sing choruses of hope
about salvation and resurrection. I was affected by that whole process more
than I ever would have imagined, and I could almost feel the grief of his
daughters and so I cried with them.
We proceeded to the grave at the side of the house and we
sang more songs as they lowered the coffin. Solomon concluded with a Bible
reading, prayers and more songs. After changing out of robes, we were again
invited to eat!! Hospitality is such a massive thing here. To be fair, people
walk long distances to get places so I can see why they insist on feeding
people well when they get there and before they leave.
We trekked back, about 5 hours after arriving and it’s safe
to say I am tired- drained physically, mentally and emotionally. I’m about to
boil some water for a hot “shower” and then tonight is definitely a DVD night!
I am leading the morning devotion at the Diocesan office in the morning so
tonight will also require some prep for that.
I hope to get some internet access there to post this and then I’m off
with Rev. Pamela again for some pastoral visiting.
I can’t believe how
hard the work is here, how tired I am at night but yet I can’t believe how much
of God I see here! What a faithful God we have.
Love from Uganda
Danielle x
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