The Body of Christ

Thursday I saw the Body of Christ in a powerfully visible way. Actually it was visible all week long at Limbe CCAP, but especially on Thursday. During the day on Monday, we got messages that three of our families had lost loved ones – a brother, an uncle, a son. The church rallied around all those who were facing death with elders and mvano going to sit with the bereaved in vigil and walk with the family through the burial.

It was that “walking with” that was so powerful on Thursday evening. The Chitedze’s son died in South Africa, where he had gone for medical treatment, accompanied by his wife and his mother. They were escorting the body back, while the father waited at home to receive them, but he was not alone. The elders of the church gathered around him and waited with him. On Thursday, word came that the body would arrive about 11 p.m. The church gathered at the Chitedze,’ home. The living room furniture had been moved out on the porch, the room cleared for the casket and for the women to sit around it, as is the practice here. A tent canopy had been erected on the lawn and plastic chairs brought in for seating for the mourners. Routinely the women sit in the house with the body and the men outside, singing and praying all night, until the funeral and burial the next day.. When I arrived with some of the elders, other elders were already there, sitting with Mr. Chitedze, as they had been since he got word of his son’s death. We took our places and sang until the body arrived, escorted by the widow and the mother. The casket was placed in the living room and opened for viewing. The elders who had been with Mr. Chitedze lifted him to his feet and then stood, one on each side of him, to support him as he walked into the room to view his son. They held him securely and wept with him as they stood in front of the body of his 30 year old son. As the rest of the elders and I passed by the casket, the two escorts guided Mr. Chitedze back to his seat on the porch. As the rest of the elders exited the room, they gathered around Mr. Chitedze, placing hands on his shoulders, his knees, his arms, to give him comfort. They stood like that for several minutes, in a tight circle around him, as if one person, weeping with and comforting their friend. As I looked over my shoulder, into the living room, the same scene was being repeated there with both Mrs. Chitedzes and the women of the church. The church members had become one body, moving and feeling together the pain of loss. After all the mourners had passed the casket, I was called on to pray. The prayer was, in a sense, a formality. The Body of Christ was already present and acting as these groups of elders stood and knelt, supporting the parents and the widow. I offered a prayer and a blessing, but I was the one who was blessed, to see the church in action, as Christ intended.