...mourn with those who mourn...

Mulungu anapatsa ndi Mulungu atenga...
(the Lord gives and the Lord takes...)

There is something humbling about death. Sharing life with people is one thing, but to share in their grief is another. You see their pain, you see their frailness, you see your own, and you share their tears.
Kyle and I attended a funeral today (my first). A field staff for the agriculture program died this last week and today was the funeral and burial. It was a time full of new experiences and understanding. It would take so long to describe everything (and I do not think my words would do it justice), but I wanted to share a few features that are both the same and different:

*EVERYONE moves together for the service and burial (just like in the States except there are large numbers of people crammed into a handful of vehicles. Men and women ride in the back of large truck beds singing as they move from location to location).
*The men and women always sit in separate groups both in the service and at the burial site.
*There is a lot of tradition and formality. Everyone has a specific role.
*The women particularly cry and wail showing public mourning.
*When burying the coffin they call forward different groups of people at different times to help fill in the hole (i.e. brothers of the deceased, family, co-workers, etc.)
*After a mound is shaped there is a similar process for placing flowers on the mound (Kyle was invited to participate in this part).

Although the service and burial were in the local vernacular, Kyle and I were able to understand some of it. And in many ways grief and mourning are the same and different. There is always a process, always sorrow. We did not know this man very well, but had both met him. He worked for this program for the last 18 years. He will be greatly missed as a husband, father, uncle, brother, and co-worker.

Death is a constant companion in Zambian communities. It is surprising we have not been to a funeral sooner. Death can be particularly traumatizing here, as it can be difficult for women to start working so late in life to recover from the loss of a husband. The community can also be affected by the loss of impactful people. An Indian doctor in Chipata (one of the FEW doctors) died last month suddenly from a heart attack. He had a private clinic where he served the local community faithfully and from time to time and would not always charge patients he knew to be without money. He also often had medication when the government hospital or clinics had run out and the hospital would buy from him. Where will these people go now? And just last week an Indian restaurant owner (one of the few in our town) died in a fatal car accident on his way back from Lusaka to Chipata. This only begins to scratch the surface of deaths in the last months time. On any day a truck full of singing mourners can drive down our main road or through the center of town. This is the world that many live in, where they must learn to commune with death and trust in a sovereign God.

This relationship of life and death produces a different attitude towards death. The people have learned to reconcile and accept it in ways that I admire and am only beginning to understand. There is a richness in being able to see death as part of life, to release the need to control the process of life and death. They learn to accept instead of fight something that is inevitable. Their faith gives them hope to carry on. With great humility, they trust in their Creator and can say,

'the Lord gives and takes away, blessed be His Name.'