Saturday morning, I left early to attend Paulo’s funeral in Khongolote. Ann is having a bout with the flu and so I was flying solo. I was told that I needed to be there by 0900 at the cemetery but it took longer to unload the Jesus film equipment than I expected, so I ended up leaving 15 minutes before hand for a 20 to 30 minute trip. But, I’ve learned not to be too nervous because things seldom start on time here.
(The photo is of Ann, Paulo, Olga, and David just a few short months ago.)
Scattered clouds filled the sky, making the temperature pleasant and with a nice breeze, mosquitoes are much less of a problem. I drove the sand roads to Khongolote, needing to use 4-wheel drive twice to get through a couple of areas of deep sand. At the cemetery, I pulled over and parked and saw many many people I knew from across the Palvra Viva Churches. There were a few trees around the cemetery and under the shade of each tree many people had gathered, waiting for the funeral car to arrive. We all greeted one another and as each new person arrived, the same process resumed. Good to see you, how are you doing, how’s the family. Of course, everyone wanted to know where Ann was, as she is the better conversationalist and they know I’m at half-brain without her.
The Chappas all were loading and unloading in front of the cemetery as people came and went. People were generally dressed in their finest and the colors made a beautiful sight on this most pleasant of days. But, the tone was somber as Paulo was loved by all. He was one of the first young people OMS missionaries worked with when the Mozambique field was first opened in Mozambique and he was merely 16 at the time. He was a key person in a number of new church plants and as a result, people arrived from all the Palvra Viva churches in the Maputo area. I counted over 400 people at one point and stopped counting as they kept coming.
Finally the small station wagon hearse arrived at 1015 to a full ground with people still arriving. The plan was the graveside service at 0900, the church service at 1000, and then afterwards visitation with the family at the house of Paulo and Olga. The hand-made wooden casket was unloaded and placed on a rusty metal table under the largest tree in the cemetery. The people gathered around in the shade of the magnificent tree. Various people lead song after song praising God in the beautiful Shanganna language. Nothing held back, nothing bashful as people sang out.
Pastor Lucas with help from our dear friend Belarmino read scripture and brought a message of hope and thanksgiving for a life ‘lived well’. We rejoiced in the fact that his eternity was secure and that God had indeed prepared a place for him.
The casket was opened by turning some hand bolts attached to screws that went through the casket top to bottom. The lid was pulled back so just his face and shoulders showed. Peaceful in death, absent in spirit. The family immediately began wailing, especially the women as their grief welled up inside of them. One older woman passed out as other ladies came to her aid. Paulo’s twin boys immediately started wailing when they saw their loving father in the casket; I’m sure not understanding this cruel blow to their lives. Carlos, one of the Khongolote church leaders, picked them up, holding them close as he is family to them and has worked with them in church and the pre-school. He comforted them until their crying subsided.
More singing as the funeral directors opened a small spray bottle of perfume and opened a new container of Johnson’s baby powder. The ladies of the family approached the casket and said their good-byes, spraying perfume and shaking baby powder around the inside of the casket. Gradually a line of sorts formed as each person walked by the open casket, receiving either the perfume or the baby powder from the person in front of them, spraying gently or shaking the powder as each person took their turn. Beautiful songs continued during this long anointing-type process. Upon completion, the funeral director arranged the casket interior, and gently wiping the excess liquid from Paulo’s serene face. The lid was attached and the casket carried to the nearby pre-dug hole, singing continuing and the crowd parting before the men carrying Paulo.
At the grave, the casket was about a six inches longer than the hole, so the crowd continued singing, waiting and watching patiently as men from the church lengthened the hole. Together with no words, the men lowered the casket by hand into the hole and then climbed out, taking the hand of people near the opening. Pastor Lucas and Belarmino read more scripture and then people took turns putting a handful or a shovel-ful of sand into the open grave. This continued until the hole was filled in and a nice raised place fashioned above freshly filled grave. One older lady gathered every piece of root, grass, or impurity in the dirt as it was filled in so that only the best went into the grave.
Almost out of nowhere flowers appeared and were passed through the crowd. Beautiful spring flowers of every color and style. Pastor Lucas preached on the symbolism of the flowers representing new life in heaven and the hope we all have in Christ. Each person stuck their flower or greenery into the sand above the grave and when it was complete, a
Five-gallon jug of water was used to sprinkle the flowers and sand above the grave, and all those who had used their hands to fill in the grave rinsed their hands above the grave. When it was complete, it was beautiful – a patch of fresh greenery in this cemetery full of relatively fresh graves in this land where the average life expectancy is the mid-thirties.
We were then invited to the house of Paulo and Olga for a service by the family. It was about two miles away and people began walking or taking chappas in that direction. I filled my car with people and we went to the church to pick up benches for the house. We piled the top of the car about 10 feet high with wooden benches and proceeded to the house. We gathered around the house where blue tarps had been arranged to provide shade for the people.
The benches were assembled and grass mats were laid out and it seemed that all 400 to 500 people came to the house. The singing continued and I said in the middle of the crowd next the on of Abel’s sons. The service, singing, testimonies, and preaching were all in Shanganna so my understanding was quite limited. I knew many of the songs and joined in on those I knew, wishing I had the language. The preaching was light with much laughter interspersed as people celebrated the live of Paulo. Others began speaking about his life with eloquence and passion. One woman essentially preached a sermon pointing out that Paulo was young, his death unplanned, but his reward eternal, asking where is your heart? What if it was you; where is your assurance? The family requested assistance with food and lodging for family and an offering was taken up with everyone sharing what they could.
So about four and ½ hours later, the services ended and the people dispersed. Pastor Abel rode with me as we passed back a different way, stopping to visit some people associated with a recent church plant in Machava. We talked much about the funeral on the way down the dusty dirt track. What happens to Olga now and the three kids? How will they make their may as Paulo always seemed to find a job here and a job there? It strikes at your heart but we know that God will provide in that gentle loving way that He does. This story is played out over and over again in this country as diseases such as cholera, HIV, and Malaria scorch the people. May we not lose our compassion nor our drive to reach the lost.
“A father of the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in His holy habitation.” Ps 68:5
Scattered clouds filled the sky, making the temperature pleasant and with a nice breeze, mosquitoes are much less of a problem. I drove the sand roads to Khongolote, needing to use 4-wheel drive twice to get through a couple of areas of deep sand. At the cemetery, I pulled over and parked and saw many many people I knew from across the Palvra Viva Churches. There were a few trees around the cemetery and under the shade of each tree many people had gathered, waiting for the funeral car to arrive. We all greeted one another and as each new person arrived, the same process resumed. Good to see you, how are you doing, how’s the family. Of course, everyone wanted to know where Ann was, as she is the better conversationalist and they know I’m at half-brain without her.
The Chappas all were loading and unloading in front of the cemetery as people came and went. People were generally dressed in their finest and the colors made a beautiful sight on this most pleasant of days. But, the tone was somber as Paulo was loved by all. He was one of the first young people OMS missionaries worked with when the Mozambique field was first opened in Mozambique and he was merely 16 at the time. He was a key person in a number of new church plants and as a result, people arrived from all the Palvra Viva churches in the Maputo area. I counted over 400 people at one point and stopped counting as they kept coming.
Finally the small station wagon hearse arrived at 1015 to a full ground with people still arriving. The plan was the graveside service at 0900, the church service at 1000, and then afterwards visitation with the family at the house of Paulo and Olga. The hand-made wooden casket was unloaded and placed on a rusty metal table under the largest tree in the cemetery. The people gathered around in the shade of the magnificent tree. Various people lead song after song praising God in the beautiful Shanganna language. Nothing held back, nothing bashful as people sang out.
Pastor Lucas with help from our dear friend Belarmino read scripture and brought a message of hope and thanksgiving for a life ‘lived well’. We rejoiced in the fact that his eternity was secure and that God had indeed prepared a place for him.
The casket was opened by turning some hand bolts attached to screws that went through the casket top to bottom. The lid was pulled back so just his face and shoulders showed. Peaceful in death, absent in spirit. The family immediately began wailing, especially the women as their grief welled up inside of them. One older woman passed out as other ladies came to her aid. Paulo’s twin boys immediately started wailing when they saw their loving father in the casket; I’m sure not understanding this cruel blow to their lives. Carlos, one of the Khongolote church leaders, picked them up, holding them close as he is family to them and has worked with them in church and the pre-school. He comforted them until their crying subsided.
More singing as the funeral directors opened a small spray bottle of perfume and opened a new container of Johnson’s baby powder. The ladies of the family approached the casket and said their good-byes, spraying perfume and shaking baby powder around the inside of the casket. Gradually a line of sorts formed as each person walked by the open casket, receiving either the perfume or the baby powder from the person in front of them, spraying gently or shaking the powder as each person took their turn. Beautiful songs continued during this long anointing-type process. Upon completion, the funeral director arranged the casket interior, and gently wiping the excess liquid from Paulo’s serene face. The lid was attached and the casket carried to the nearby pre-dug hole, singing continuing and the crowd parting before the men carrying Paulo.
At the grave, the casket was about a six inches longer than the hole, so the crowd continued singing, waiting and watching patiently as men from the church lengthened the hole. Together with no words, the men lowered the casket by hand into the hole and then climbed out, taking the hand of people near the opening. Pastor Lucas and Belarmino read more scripture and then people took turns putting a handful or a shovel-ful of sand into the open grave. This continued until the hole was filled in and a nice raised place fashioned above freshly filled grave. One older lady gathered every piece of root, grass, or impurity in the dirt as it was filled in so that only the best went into the grave.
Almost out of nowhere flowers appeared and were passed through the crowd. Beautiful spring flowers of every color and style. Pastor Lucas preached on the symbolism of the flowers representing new life in heaven and the hope we all have in Christ. Each person stuck their flower or greenery into the sand above the grave and when it was complete, a
Five-gallon jug of water was used to sprinkle the flowers and sand above the grave, and all those who had used their hands to fill in the grave rinsed their hands above the grave. When it was complete, it was beautiful – a patch of fresh greenery in this cemetery full of relatively fresh graves in this land where the average life expectancy is the mid-thirties.
We were then invited to the house of Paulo and Olga for a service by the family. It was about two miles away and people began walking or taking chappas in that direction. I filled my car with people and we went to the church to pick up benches for the house. We piled the top of the car about 10 feet high with wooden benches and proceeded to the house. We gathered around the house where blue tarps had been arranged to provide shade for the people.
The benches were assembled and grass mats were laid out and it seemed that all 400 to 500 people came to the house. The singing continued and I said in the middle of the crowd next the on of Abel’s sons. The service, singing, testimonies, and preaching were all in Shanganna so my understanding was quite limited. I knew many of the songs and joined in on those I knew, wishing I had the language. The preaching was light with much laughter interspersed as people celebrated the live of Paulo. Others began speaking about his life with eloquence and passion. One woman essentially preached a sermon pointing out that Paulo was young, his death unplanned, but his reward eternal, asking where is your heart? What if it was you; where is your assurance? The family requested assistance with food and lodging for family and an offering was taken up with everyone sharing what they could.
So about four and ½ hours later, the services ended and the people dispersed. Pastor Abel rode with me as we passed back a different way, stopping to visit some people associated with a recent church plant in Machava. We talked much about the funeral on the way down the dusty dirt track. What happens to Olga now and the three kids? How will they make their may as Paulo always seemed to find a job here and a job there? It strikes at your heart but we know that God will provide in that gentle loving way that He does. This story is played out over and over again in this country as diseases such as cholera, HIV, and Malaria scorch the people. May we not lose our compassion nor our drive to reach the lost.
“A father of the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in His holy habitation.” Ps 68:5
2 comments:
Dave, thank you so much for narrating the funeral for me and others who loved Paulo. It means a lot.
Please let me know what is going to happen with Olga and the boys- with whom the family will decide she should live with, etc.
And, thanks so much. Sincerely.
I've missed too many weddings, births, and funerals of dear friends since I left Mozambique. It meant so much to "be there" somehow.
You dont know me but I know Paulo. My family was with OMS back before the Telfers came...when we started the first church in T3 under the mango tree in mama rosas yard. Paulo was in the "youth group" with me and my brother back then. any way Jenni told me about Paulo I just wanted to thank you for posting this! I often feel so guilty about not going back for so many years. (i think it has been 7 years) I wish I could have been there to say good bye to my friend and apologize for not going back to vist like I had promised I would so many times. So like Jenni said It meant ALOT to "be there" in a way. Thank you!
Andi (Doxey) Beffer
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