The other day we had the opportunity to go to a Haitian's funeral. It was an elderly man in the church that was sick for several days, then passed away. He was a dear old man that had been faithfully going to church for years and loved the Lord very much. His name was Obez. Supposedly he was close to 100 years old!
We started off yesterday around 2pm, arriving at the funeral around 3:30. It was a long walk, but a good one.
Below is an account of the funeral.
****
As we climbed the steep trails and rocky slopes, the sound of a Haitian funeral song drifted toward us over the mountains. The eerie tones and haunting voices rose and fell in a rhythmic chant that was truly surreal in its nature. We could see the empty casket making its way up the side of the opposite mountain, headed for its final resting place: the home of the departed. There it would enfold his earthly tabernacle and be buried beneath the rocky soil, to await that great day of resurrection.
We climbed on, following that mournful sound to the elderly man's home. When we arrived there was some wild dancing going on underneath a large blue tarp, which was suspended over a bare patch of earth. One of the pastors explained that this group of men were not Christians, rather, they were the men who brought the casket. They were not even related to the family. The pastor expressed his remorse for their behavior, stating that they were doing "evil" and that satan was using them to distract from the funeral.
Once the lifeless form was placed in the casket the dancing ceased and the place beneath the blue tarp was vacated. As the casket was brought into the center of the clearing, family and friends gathered around. Another pastor began the service with some songs, followed by prayer. There were several scriptures read and more songs sang. Pastor CJ was called upon to preach, which he did with great earnestness. He plead for the lost, charging them to seek the Lord while they were alive, because there would be no seeking after death. The man who had died was a Christian, so he had hope. But not everyone there at the funeral had that hope. So he again plead with them to turn to Christ.
Once he was done they asked Grandpa Harold to finish the service with prayer. He prayed in English, with CJ translating for him... After the last 'amen' was said, several women began wailing and the casket was carried to the grave, placed in, and was committed to the earth.
Afterward there was another song or two, and everyone went home.
So many things were swirling through my mind as we walked the long path back home... the stark difference between those men bringing the casket, and the Christians; the cultural differences that marked the whole experience; and finally the joy on the faces of those listening, as they spoke of the resurrection. Here, the resurrection is a joyful reality for the Haitian Christians because their lives have much trouble and toil. They look forward in happy anticipation of that day when our God will make all things new. How do we look at that day? Have our material possessions clouded our view of that day?
It definitely changed my perspective in many ways, and I was very blessed to be there...
****
