O come, Emmanuel

Lighting the first candle of Advent

Rejoice, rejoice! Emmanuel

shall come to thee, o Israel.

Last Sunday, we had just finished celebrating the first Sunday of Advent, and were dismissing Sunday school, when one of my fellow church elders came to share some unthinkable news: The wife of one of our church members had suddenly passed away on Friday. He had been in church but was so overcome with grief that he couldn’t share the news directly in the service. His wife Julie had been one of our team of Sunday school teachers, teaching our youngest kids. Their own son is just 7 years old. She had seemed only mildly ill and had driven herself to a clinic where she collapsed and died. She is exactly my age, and it’s hard not think of what it would be like for my family here and elsewhere, if something like this happened in our family. The tragedy of this family and our involvement framed and colored all the past week for us, as we waited for Julie’s family members to arrive from Denmark and make decisions about what to do next.

O come, O come, Emmanuel,
and ransom captive Israel,
that mourns in lonely exile here,
until the Son of God appear…

Mennonite Church of Arusha

In the midst of waiting to hear from Julie’s family, we also had projects that were coming to fruition after several months of waiting. Paul had received ethical clearance to proceed with a research grant in the Ngorongoro crater. Our MCC partner there works to encourage women to have healthy pregnancies and to go to the clinics for check-ups and delivery. However, very few women choose to deliver in clinics. The research is to find out more about the barriers or obstacles to facility-assisted birth, the beliefs about birth practices and also experiences that may discourage women from going to the clinic. He was busy preparing the process and questionnaires on Monday and then left to meet the research team in Karatu on Tuesday and Wednesday.

Role-playing a mediation meeting

Meanwhile, the local Mennonite church started a week of training on peace-building and conflict resolution. I had been working with the leadership team to support their planning over the past two months, and now they really wanted me to be present to witness what was happening. They had invited 100 pastors and church leaders from 8 congregations of their diocese. People came from all different cultural backgrounds, including people local to Arusha, some from a Maasai church plant, and others who were transplants from the faraway Mara region. I was able to spend several hours with them on Monday afternoon, hearing fellow MCCer William Kiptoo from Kenya lay the groundwork for talking about peacebuilding in the church. I remain very grateful for the opportunity to interact more directly with our partners in peacebuilding at this stage of my assignment.

O come, Thou Dayspring, come and cheer
our spirits by Thine advent here;
disperse the gloomy clouds of night,
and death's dark shadows put to flight.

On Tuesday, I was able to have half of my Sabbath. But this past week was also the final week of the term for our kids, and they had a number of special events going on a school. I was especially eager to go and support David and his house, “Athens,” at the upper primary sports day. Parents were invited to come and wear house colors, giving their houses extra points for each parent who showed up. David had sadly twisted his ankle again in a sack race, earlier that morning, so he had to have substitutes run his races for him. But it was still fun to hang out with him and his classmates. I saw several of his friends win races, and it was nice to be there to affirm them, especially the kids we see and play with all the time at Gymkhana.

Final relay of sports day

After school, I got both kids and Gymkhana is exactly where we headed, to hang out together for an hour. But then I needed to go and pick up William Kiptoo, the peace trainer, with his wife. We as MCC wanted to do something personal and host him for at least a dinner, but it turned out I was the only team-member available to do it. Even Paul was gone! It is definitely a bit of a challenge to enjoy good adult conversation, while keep the kids happy, and so I decided just to offer the Kiptoo’s Chinese food at Gymkhana so the kids  could be safe doing their own thing. I did really value the time to talk more with William and hear about his background and experiences in peace in this region and in Asia. Nevertheless, it was a night of mediating many different needs and doing a B- job of hosting at best.

Even as I was running around picking up and dropping off, I ran into another school mother who had heard of Julie’s death, was trying to comfort her child (who had been in Julie’s Sunday school class), and was also trying to process her own recent grief of losing her father to poor medical care in Tanzania. And that evening, I also had heard from Julie’s family: they wanted me to give the funeral and invited me to come meet them in the morning.

A story of trauma and healing

I was so grateful for our Sunday school coordinator, Anne, who is from Norway, could easily speak to Julie’s family in their heart language, and who was serving as the key contact person for our church. She and I spent three hours with the family Wednesday morning, hearing more about Julie from them, and trying to help them process their grief. We also were able to plan a service that would honor Danish traditions, to be held in our church. Julie’s husband is Tanzanian, from the Kilimanjaro area. And so we also needed to work well together to figure out the best way to meet the needs and expectations of his clan around grieving her death and doing the burial. It was a cross-cultural situation, with many potential pitfalls, but I really thank God we were able to manage to work out a way to honor both the Danish and Tanzanian families.

After meeting with the grieving, it was time to go back to the Mennonite church to observe more peace training. And then I needed to go back to our office to plan some of the remaining details of our team retreat in Zanzibar (starting today). The contrast of activities was almost too much to absorb. It was honestly a relief to head to choir practice and just spend several hours singing pieces about the hope and comfort of the Advent of our Lord.

O come, Thou Key of David, come,
and open wide our heav'nly home;
make safe the way that leads on high,
and close the path to misery.

Thursday and Friday brought more visits to the Mennonite church peace training, planning worship music for our church Sunday service (which as it happens I was scheduled to lead, on top of everything else), and also writing a sermon to give comfort to Julie’s family. Although I have served as a pastor at various times over the past 15 years, I have only ever given two funerals, and those only for older people who had lived full lives, and who I had not known well. It was a special challenge to think of how to give comfort to a family who are not themselves believers, but also to really speak the truth of the good news that Julie had trusted in Jesus, and that she is safe with him, in spite of the tragedy for those left behind. It was incredibly poignant to be planning this sermon in the season of Advent, God coming among us, when some of those grieving may have been feeling abandoned by God.

The family had asked that I preach on Psalm 23, for which I was grateful. It was interesting that though they aren’t practicing Christians, some aspects of the faith are still deeply engrained and give comfort. Even as we had a private family viewing just before the funeral, more than one Danish visitor and friend of Julie’s asked if they could please just kneel and pray the Lord’s prayer in Danish. There is still an urge to call out to our Father at moments like this of sudden death.

The family shared so beautifully about Julie. Many, many school friends and teachers came to support her son and the family. Our church family also came to surround and support the funeral with music, including special Danish hymns, and their presence and prayers. It was a real relief to people to be able that she had died of natural causes, due to an undiagnosed condition. And as hard as the situation is, especially in knowing how best to support and care for the husband and son, it was a service which I think allowed people to really honor Julie. Here are a few thoughts on what it meant to me to think about God with us, Emmanuel, in light of Julie’s death. Perhaps it might also be a comfort to others who are walking through this Advent season in times of loss and sorrow.

There is nothing solid we can cling to in this life. Nothing except the hand of the Good Shepherd who leads us. We remember his character, his wisdom in leading us on paths that will give us what we need – even when it isn’t what we want. More than anything else, he promises that as we walk through the valley of the shadow of death, he is with us. With us.

And we who call Jesus Lord, know that Jesus himself is the Good Shepherd. He is not a distant sovereign king, ordering things from afar. He came among us, Emmanuel, God with us.  Jesus came and lived, knowing hunger and disappointment. Jesus experienced the pressures of family who didn’t understand him. He was accused by lawyers who wanted to trap him and get him in trouble with the law. Jesus walked through the valley of the death-shadow himself. He buried Joseph, the father who raised him. He experienced the sudden murder of his cousin, John. He endured the death of a close friend, Lazarus, and wept at his grave. He was betrayed, abandoned, tortured and crucified.

Our Emmanuel, Jesus, God with us, said to us himself in John’s gospel, “I am the good Shepherd.  My Sheep know my voice. I know my sheep and my sheep know me. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. I have come that they may have life and have it to the full.” …

The final promise of Psalm 23 is this: “Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever and ever.” …

In fact, goodness and mercy, the unfailing love of God, do not simply follow us passively. God’s love pursues us intently. God’s unfailing love chases us down. God’s mercy and love will not give up until they bring us into the Lord’s house. In the moment that Julie was falling, the unfailing love of God was still pursuing her, catching her as she fell, carrying her to be forever with her Good Shepherd in the house prepared for her with the Father.

Epilogue.

After all was done with the funeral, and the cortege had driven away to the traditional Tanzanian burial in Kilimanjaro, I also attended the peace training graduation on Saturday. Another moment of cognitive dissonance. It can be a challenging call to weep with those who weep, and rejoice with those who rejoice. It was a real relief to come to the church early on Sunday morning, and be alone in the sanctuary for a bit, privately having some time to worship and grieve before the other musicians joined me to lead music for Second Advent.

Getting ready for MCC team time

And now we’re packed and ready to head to Zanzibar with our team on our annual team retreat. I might wish for a week of normalcy, but it seems that it is now time to head to the beach, and make the most of savoring family and team time, and the life and the days that we are given. Green pastures and still waters are not an entitlement but a gift of the Good Shepherd, and this week has been a reminder to never forget that. I’ll close with the text of one song we sang yesterday:

You've come, To bring peace, To be love
To be nearer to us

You've come, To bring life
To be light , To shine brighter in us
You've come To be hope To this world For Your honor and name

You've come, To take sin, To bear shame
And to conquer the grave

Oh Emmanuel, God with us

Our Deliverer, You are Savior
In Your presence we find our strength

Over everything, Our redemption
God with us, You are God with us

Songwriters: Jason Ingram / Leslie Jordan

God With Us lyrics © Capitol Christian Music Group