African Funeral

Today, I work up at 5am to head into Soweto for a 7am funeral.  I didn’t know you had to get up so early to bury someone, but evidently you do.  Funerals here are somewhat like ones back home, but different at the same time.  It was somewhat organized with a program and order of events.  Basically, there was a speaker, then a song, a speaker, then a song, a speaker, then a song, a speaker, then a song, etc… for about two and a half hours.  It was actually quite nice, but a little long.  I was one of two white guys there and honored to have the chance to pray and share a bit of the gospel.  Anyway, that was part one. 

Then you go to part two in the program, which occurs at the burial site.  It was very sad to go to the cemetery.  There were fresh graves everywhere because there is so much sickness and death in this area.  At least six funerals were going on at the same time ours was and on our way out others were coming for additional funerals for the day. 

 

Men and women were pretty much separated with the women and family seated or near the tent and the men around the burial plot.  Unlike the burial plots that I have seen these did not include a vault in the ground.  There were only holes dug into the ground, at least 10 feet deep.  The body was in a casket much like ours, but with a plastic or glass covering over the face so you could see the body without opening the casket.  Before burial this covering was sealed with a wooden attachment.  The casket was wrapped in a blanket and lowered into the ground, then the family tossed dirt onto the casket, and finally the men filled the hole with dirt.  It was nice to see how the community all helped to bury the man and showed such respect for him.  It made me think about how quickly we do things in the states and do not always take the time to show respect for those who have passed.

We then returned to the family home to find a line around the home waiting for the family to return and the meal to begin.  Unlike the states where church members and friends provide food for the family, in Africa the family provides food for those who attend the funeral.  Something, I do not think I will ever understand. 

Standing at that cemetery, I think I realized for the first time since arriving in Africa how blessed I am.  To have been born into the loving Christian family that I have and the country that I know and love.