I remember when I worked for the Legislature and for the Supreme Court in Carson City, and how nice it was to have a regular day...the schedule was set and VERY rarely deviated. My duties and expectations were set and also rarely deviated. Ministry here in Francistown is anything but.
Last Monday, was a day of remembering the dead. We left Francistown very early in the morning and went out to a village called Matangwane (I think that's how it is spelled). We went to celebrate Mass and then bless a new tombstone. The graveyard was quite interesting...You could see the disparity between those who could afford tombstones and those who could not. The tombstone we blessed was quite elaborate and I'm sure very costly. It was marble and it was huge! But as it as for the patriarch of the family, I am sure it was quite fitting. The "middle-class" graves were covered by a metal cage which outlined the casket. On the front of the cage was a plaque with the name of the deceased. Many had hung flowers on them or pictures. There was something actually quite nice about their simplicity. The "lower-class" graves were simply mounds of concrete. No information on them, no flowers, nothing. Fr. Sylvester called them "pauper graves" because the families could not afford the funeral and burial expenses. Even in death, no one can escape money problems. After the blessing, we went back to the house for a huge feast. I have not seen that much food in a while. One of the Batswana delicacies is a type of smashed meat called seswa (not sure if that's the spelling). It's made either with beef or goat. I really enjoy the goat! I tried a little of everything, and one of the older ladies sitting behind me marvelled at my eating their traditional food. Everything was delicious. Afterwards, I was invited to sit with the Uncles (the elder men) and drink Chibuku, which is the Batswana beer. It is made from fermented sorghum. As I sat down and they passed me the carton, I could feel every eye on me. I told myself that no matter what I thought, I would have to say I liked it....but I actually did like it! It wasn't very strong or bitter. I wound up taking 3 or 4 sips, which brought a round of cheering and laughing. They gave me thumbs up and patted me on the back...I had become a Batswana man LOL.
After we returned to Francistown, Father informed me that we were going to another memorial Mass that evening for a young man who had died, for which he asked me to prepare a reflection. This one made me nervous...with emotions raw, I worried I would not say the "right thing." I prepared a very short reflection, which I shared from memory, rather than wrote. When I saw the mother's face, she was shaking her head...I thought I had upset or offended her. After the Mass, she approached me, and I thought I was in trouble. She hugged me and told me that she had needed the words I said - they consoled her.
Then came Thursday, a day to celebrate new life. That morning, Fr. Sylvester and I drove to another village to celebrate a baptism. Again, Fr. Sylvester asked me to prepare the reflection, another first for me (the other being the first time I preached at a memorial). The baby was so beautiful. Her name is Landra. The mother let me hold her and she immediately fell asleep in my arms, holding the cross around my neck in her hand (I told her mom that it was a sign Landra was destined for religious life - to which she promptly replied "AMEN!"). We set up the altar right on the porch of the house and celebrated the Mass and Baptism right there. It reminded me of why the Church is the people and not the building - a church building is certainly sacred and an important part of our worship, but it is in the community that gathers that Christ is found...not confined to 4 walls. It was a truly beautiful moment, and I thanked God for the opportunity to be there that wonderful day.
Both of these experiences, new life and death, made me reflect on what ministry is. It is about journeying with God's people in whatever way I can. We are all called to this ministry - to be present to those around us, to walk with them, to love them. St. Francis of Assisi always prayed that God make him a channel of peace...what more could you want to be?
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