The Funeral

Death is always hard for those left behind, but it is especially so when that death comes to one in the prime of life. That was the case on Sunday for those of us at the Limbe congregation. One of the younger women of the congregation, just 34, had taken ill about 2 weeks ago and had been in the hospital. She had difficulty with her breathing and her heart, but she had been discharged and was improving. Saturday she felt strong enough to go shopping for a short time. We all rejoiced at that news. She has been so active in mvano (the women’s guild) and in the wider church. She had just taken the position as vice chair for entertainment for the Synod Partnership Committee. She was active in community projects, serving on a number of charity boards. She has 4 growing children. So the news of her improvement was well received by everyone.

 But in the middle of the worship service on Sunday, the senior pastor got word that she had been taken back to the hospital and had died. We were shocked. Her husband was with us in the service. He is one of our elders. We arranged for several of the elders to go with him to the hospital and he was told there, where he could at least see the body. Members of the church arranged to go to the home and be with the family. The funeral was set for Tuesday at noon.

Here most funerals are usually done from the home, but Limbe is a city church and has adopted many of the styles of the northern hemisphere, so the burial is from the church. The congregation arrived with the body as it was brought from home. The casket was led down the aisle by the pastors and placed in the front for the sanctuary. The mvano followed the casket, carrying live wreaths and singing. They gathered around the casket, sitting on the floor, surrounding it as an honor guard. The church quickly filled up until there were no seats remaining and about 200 people had to sit outside, listening to the PA system’s broadcasting of the service. The service opened with speeches from representatives from the various areas of her greatest activity. One of the family members rose to sing but could not complete the song for the tears that would not be held back. Her husband cried out, “She wasn’t just my wife but my best friend.” Everyone in the congregation cried with them. The rest of the service was much the same as a funeral service in the States.

The burial, though, was typically Malawian. The senior pastor and I led the casket out of the church and to the church graveyard, which is just adjacent to the church property. Many of those in the congregation moved in front of us to get positioned around the grave. We stood at the head for the grave as the casket was placed over the opening and lowered into the hole. The mvano resumed their place as honor guard. The family sat off to the side, the men with the men and the women with the women. The crowd of mourners spilled out into the street and closed the road. Traffic was diverted around the graveyard. After many of the same words and prayers as we use in the States at the graveside, then the pastors took a hand full of dirt each and in the name of the Trinity, sprinkled the first dirt on the casket. The senior pastor dropped her church membership card in on top of the casket. Then the elders produced chairs for the senior pastor and myself and the men of the congregation moved into place to fill the grave. Since this is in the city, that meant that men from the city had to first mix cement with sand and stones and fill around the casket, which had been covered with heavy plastic. This would prevent someone coming in the night and stealing the casket, a problem they had had especially with expensive caskets. This took about 45 minutes. During this time the mvano sang. Then the men of the church took turns with the two shovels and one hoe that were provided, and filled in the grave and mounted the dirt on top. The mounding was carefully done to provide space for the wreaths that would be laid. When the mound was prepared, the session clerk stepped forward to call individuals and groups to come and place the wreaths of live flowers, first the family, and then various groups. A mvano knelt and presented a wreath to the each one called. The individual bowed, took the wreath and then carefully placed it on the dirt mound. I was called to place the church’s wreath. After all the individuals had come, then the mvano came with the rest of the wreaths and finished the wreath laying, covering the gravesite with live flowers. We sang a hymn and the benediction was pronounced. Everyone filed out of the graveyard to quietly resume their activities. Life will go on, but there will be a great gap for those who knew her and loved her, whose lives were touched by her. This is a reality of life everywhere, a fact of death.

The gravesite decorated with the wreaths