Life and Death … they mix so freely within Malawi, and perhaps they do throughout the world, except that bubble: the affluent West. I do not mean to deprecate the great and rich tradition of which I am a beneficiary; but I know that I, even as a pastor, have not encountered death with any great frequency. Oh to be sure, as I near the conclusion of my seventh decade of life, I am more aware of the deaths of slightly younger contemporaries; and yet, because my mother nears her ninety-eighth birthday, because my father died at ninety-six, and especially because I entertain many unrealized dreams, I view the portals of death as distant. However, life in Malawi instructs otherwise.
Last night’s experience of teaching 120 elders and deacons was very positive, as many handshakes affirmed. As one young, bright Malawian responded:
“It was very good tonight.”
“That was our hope,” I said.
“No,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “I’m confirming what it was, not what you hoped.”
We had gathered in the sanctuary, and, in good, orderly fashion, the men sat to my left the women to my right, filling in from the front to the back – a courtesy for those who would come later. For approximately 45 minutes I spoke (translated throughout) regarding methodological process; I then gave them time to read, study and answer questions on their own (a new experience within the sanctuary), followed by my encouraging them to form small groups. For a moment they hesitated, but then they complied – and in moments the sanctuary was ringing with conversation and laughter, as they gave themselves to the Wedding Feast at Cana (John 2:1-12). A hunger for life punctuated their interaction, with promise of further interaction this evening (Tuesday).
And then death entered. An elder in the church, perhaps in his mid-forties, died this morning. I know few details, but because of his death, a viewing will occur this evening in the sanctuary, followed by burial tomorrow – and so the need to cancel this evening’s return to the Wedding in Cana. Whether or not this funeral will be that of last Sunday’s experience, I do not know: a different person, a different context, and a different set of relationships, but I cannot but see the ebb and flow so prevalent here. Life expectancy remains at about 50 years.
For the Malawians I have encountered, Jesus’ words, “I AM the Resurrection and the Life,” are frequently before them, rich with life.
Faithfully,
Stan