Lightning? From a cloudless sky?

It is Zambia’s dry season. But like a bolt out of the blue, Esther gets sick. “It’s meningitis,” a hospital doctor tells her husband of 16 years.

“Dear God,” he prays.

She dies almost lightning-fast. It is Monday, 13 September 2021.

Justina, her 13-year-old daughter, their only child, grieves. Pastor Frank Shonga, her 49-year-old husband, aches. Serving Sinda Parish in the Lutheran Church of Central Africa Zambia Synod, Pastor Shonga has conducted many funerals. “This is so different,” he tells himself.

It feels different too for fellow LCCA-Z pastors and One Africa Team missionaries in Zambia. “When was the last time an LCCA-Z pastor’s wife died while her husband was actively serving a congregation?”

“We can’t remember,” people keep answering.

A flurry of arrangements follows. Three LCCA-Z pastors, a missionary, and the OAT operations director hastily pack, then drive to the funeral for Amai Abusa (Mrs. Pastor) Shonga. The trip takes twelve hours over two days.

Some 400 mourners have gathered by the time the five arrive in the village, near Lundazi. Men have dug a grave by hand 1.5 km away. “That is one of the deepest graves I have ever seen,” a veteran missionary later notes. (“Why deep?” you may ask. The more honored the person, the deeper the grave.)

“Please, may we use your Land Cruiser later? Could you transport the pallbearers and coffin to the burial site? It is too far to carry. The path is too narrow for the truck.”

“Of course.” Katundu (luggage) is rearranged.

Guests of honor sit in the shade on mats. Women, sing, wail, and carry the coffin outside onto another mat. The funeral begins. A young man explains in Chewa who will speak, in what order.

Choirs sing. Grief erupts. Hope swells.

Pastor Banda speaks. No, the Spirit speaks through him.

Is this sudden death nothing but the lightning and thunder of God’s judgment?

Not in our risen Lord. “I heard a voice from heaven saying, ‘Write: Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord from now on.’ ‘Yes,’ says the Spirit, ‘so they will rest from their labors since their works follow them.'” (Revelation 14:13)

Pastor Mumba speaks God’s Word last. “God took his sinful people into exile,” he says. Their exile seemed death. Every death is an exile.

Yet God told his people of old, “You will seek me and find me when you search for me with all your heart. I will be found by you”—this is the Lord’s declaration—“and I will restore your fortunes and gather you from all the nations and places where I banished you”—this is the Lord’s declaration. “I will restore you to the place from which I deported you” (Jeremiah 29:13–14).

From all the nations?

From all the nations, in “Christ, the life of all the living, Christ the death of death our foe.”

Choirs sing again, two Chewa songs at the same time, as the funeral becomes a procession. Both choirs sing of ulendo, “the journey.” Mourners journey on foot to the grave through the bush.

It is the dry season. Eyes get wet, though. Young men scoop dirt over the lowered coffin.

In the dry season parched hearts moisten with hope. Believers pray, “ufumu, mphamvu, ndi ulemelero nzanu kwamuyaya” (“the kingdom, the power, and the glory are yours, forever and ever”).

“I saw Satan fall like lightning from the sky,” Jesus said after his 72 disciples came back from preaching the good news of his kingdom (Luke 10:18).

They had told him, “Lord, even the demons submit to us in your name” (10:17).

“I saw Satan fall like lightning from the sky,” Jesus could have also said in 2000 when Frank Shonga, a Muslim, a man who had memorized 17 of the 30 suras in the Qur’an, was baptized.

“I saw Satan fall like lightning from the sky,” Jesus could have said too when Frank confirmed his wife in biblical Christian faith in 2007. He had helped her learn God’s Word.

“What was it like for you before?” the missionary had asked him in April.

“In Islam,” Pastor Shonga wrote back, “we learned that we should keep all the commands of the Qur’an in order to enter heaven. But […] I learned that God offered his Son Jesus Christ as an atoning sacrifice for our sins.”

“I saw Satan fall like lightning from the sky.” The missionary even sees that invisible truth on the long return to Lusaka. The Land Cruiser which had carried 5 now holds 14.

What do eleven hot, cramped people on the vehicle’s backbenches do for hours while the OAT operations director drives, negotiating pothole after pothole? A mother nurses her baby. The other ten belt out holy hope. Pastors and their wives sing hymn after joyful hymn. The missionary sings along as best he can.

His heart still sings.

The hymn the group in the Land Cruiser sings is “Kwathu Sipadziko,” “My Home Is Not Here.” In English, its refrain goes like this:

Lord, you are my friend, for sure.
What if heaven were not ours?
An angel motions in welcome to heaven’s door.
And this world I do not think of as mine.

Missionary Dan Witte lives in Zambia

Please pray for those working in fields that are ripe for harvest. Share their story, engage with future news and receive updates. Learn more about our mission fields in Africa and how the Holy Spirit is working faith in people’s hearts at https://wels.net/serving-others/missions/africa

The coffin was lowered. The dirt was heaped. Wreaths were placed. But the funeral was so much more than a burial. It was a “witness to a stricken world.”

In Christ, who tasted death for us
We rise above our natural grief
And witness to a stricken world 
The strength and splendor of belief. – CW #607

Some say that the best evangelism opportunities in Malawi are funerals.  Why?  Because the masses gather.  Not just the fellow members of the deceased’s home church, but the people of the entire community.   Crowds of people.   And as you can well imagine, a variety of faiths.  In need of a message whether they realize it or not.   

What better time to share the gospel of Jesus? That is exactly what Pastor Khwima Msiska did. He preached 2 Timothy 4:6-8.

“…the time has come for my departure.  I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.  Now there is in store for me the crown of righteousness which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award to me on that day – and not only to me but also to all who have longed for his appearing.”

Pastor Msiska could have highjacked the sermon time and simply highlighted how much Evangelist Mapulanga had accomplished during his personal and ministry years. God had given the Evangelist a total eight decades spanning from 1940 to 2020. There would have been plenty to say.  After all, just in his gospel ministry of serving the Lutheran Church of Central Africa, how many sermons did Evangelist Mapulanga preach?  How many babies and adults did he baptize?   How many member visits had he made?  How many people of the Lutheran church had he comforted, corrected, rebuked, and trained in righteousness? Over decades of service, how many kilometers had he pedaled, and miles had he walked to serve the Lord’s people? 

But Pastor Msiska didn’t dwell on those things.  For that matter, neither did the Liturgist Pastor Msowaya nor any other speaker.  The funeral focus was not about the man Mapulanga but about the GOD MAN Jesus Christ.  Both LCCA pastors answered very clearly the questions that are most important:

What had Jesus done for Evangelist Mapulanga?  What had the Promised One accomplished? Why did Christ die on the cross?  What do Jesus’ perfect life and innocent death mean for him – and me – when I die?  Ah, now that’s something to talk about. And sing about. And that is what the Lutheran women and men did.  The preacher and the liturgist were not the only ones witnessing to the stricken world. So were the many people who attended the funeral and are longing for Christ’s coming.

We arrived at the funeral home at 9:00 am.  We departed at 4 pm.  Count them:  Seven hours. And for the better part of seven hours, people were singing.  Why? Because there was something to sing about! The funeral was so much more than a burial. It was a witness to a stricken world that there is hope beyond the grave. There is life after death. There is a crown of righteousness in store. 

No wonder the family of God longs for their Brother’s appearing on the last day!  We are not just waiting for Jesus Christ to come again, but desiring it, yearning for it.  Looking forward to it, patiently but anticipatingly.  

One day our fight will be over. Our race will be finished. And we will live no longer by faith but by sight. And so with the strength and splendor of belief, the men and women lifted up their voices.  They sang…

• at the funeral home
• at the mortuary
• walking to the cemetery
• huddled around the grave

The day was one of song.  And the songs were ones of witness.  And the witness was to just One: Jesus Christ.

Because Jesus rose from the dead, so will Evangelist Mapulanga.  Because Jesus paid the penalty of sin, we don’t have to.  Because Jesus gave up his crown, we will wear one – a gift of grace!

Until the Lord calls us home as he did Evangelist Mapulanga on 4th December 2020, we will still have graves to dig, funerals to attend and loved ones to bid goodbye. We will mourn.  Hearts will ache. Tears will flow. 

But not without hope. We rise above our natural grief. So we will also have sermons to preach and songs to sing and a witness to give.  Because there is a world out there stricken with sin and in need of a Savior. No matter in which country our loved ones die, let the masses and the crowds come to our Christian funerals! 

So much more than a burial.

Missionary John Holtz lives in Malawi

Please pray for those working in fields that are ripe for harvest. Share their story, engage with future news and receive updates. Learn more about our mission fields in Africa and how the Holy Spirit is working faith in people’s hearts at https://wels.net/serving-others/missions/africa