Funeral at St. Stephen's, Monkey River

The last week has been a little bit of a roller coaster for me. This time last week, I received a phone call telling me that I would baptizing an 18 month old at St. John 's. Yesterday I received a phone call asking me to come and do a funeral for 3 year old who had just died from Leukemia.
Miss Lorna had told me at the beginning of my time here that I would probably experience a little bit of everything while I'm here (re: baptisms, communion, the sick, funerals etc.) But I had convinced myself that I wouldn't experience a Belizean Funeral this summer, and I certainly wasn't expecting to be asked to do one for an infant.

I must admit, I was scared. How was I going to hold myself together? A lot of my work here this summer has been with the children here. Children that have brought so much joy to my life. I can be having the worst day ever and all I need to cheer me up is to hear them calling my name and running toward me for a hug. I didn't know the child, but the thought of seeing a child, like the other children who have touched my life in a casket, scared me completely. I wanted to be strong and was scared that I wasn't going to be able to hold myself together. I honestly didn't think I could do it.

So after getting over the initial shock after I was told about the funeral, I tried to hammer out a sermon and familiarize myself with the Rite Two funeral service. And then I prayed....all I could think of was "how am I going to get through this?" So I prayed for comfort and strength over and over and over again. I didn't sleep much as I was up thinking about the family of the infant. I woke up.....prayed some more...got myself ready and headed to Monkey River with one of the locals. In Belize it's important to know that the family usually holds a reception before and after the service. So after being boated across the river by a local, he invited me to a house that had a bar on the main floor where a lot of men who knew the family had gathered. I accepted the invitation and sat with them for about 15 minutes. The bar was under the elevated house, and I sat and chatted with the boy's uncles. It wasn't until just before I left that I realized, I had been sitting beside the casket of the little boy the entire time and hadn't even noticed it. Everyone was socializing and having great conversations. It didn't seem like the place to have the casket sitting. It took 3 women who came to view the body for me to notice it. I felt awful and is if I had been disrespectful. Before I left, I walked past the casket, viewed the body and headed to the church to be there for when the men brought the little boy to the church.

I was told that the funeral was going to start at about 1:00, which translated in Belize means about 2:00. I was blessed to have been able to sit with the Administrator and Principal of the Anglican School, who had been trying to figure out what they were going to do for the service, (they hadn't been told that I was coming). We had some tea and allowed members of the family and friends to view the body in the church and sit in the church with the body. I was also told that one of the family members was bringing an order of service which I would need to quickly study just before the service started. So it was unlikely I would need to use the Rite in the book, but had it there for the prayers etc. I was grateful for Carl and Sue who chatted with me and reflected with me as I prepared for the service...it was a blessing. I'm not being very articulate, I'm still trying to debrief it....I figured if I wrote it, the reflection would come but it's not.

Anyway, the service began at about 2:15 after the Order of Service arrived. It was a very simple service and an informal service, which I must admit was absolutely perfect. As I walked up to the front of the church and stood off to the side of the casket I couldn't help but feel an absolute calm over me that lasted the entire service. God provided me with the strength and peace that I needed to lead the service and comfort the family. One observation that I made during the service was the lack of men present. Aside from the step-father of the boy, the principal of the school and missionary in the village, I didn't see any of the men that I had met at the reception.

After the service we gathered to process across the village to the graveyard. There is a tropical storm that has situated itself over Honduras and Guatemala, and the northern part of it hit Monkey River last night leaving the grass roads full of water and mud. The procession made our way through the water and mud to the graveyard that is about 200 feet away from the Carib Sea. The congregation stayed as the grave diggers covered the hole with cement, and then we made our way back to the reception for lunch.

Like I said this is still something I'm trying to debrief and let sink in. Right now the only way I can explain how I'm feeling is.......numb. I'm not sure if that's a good or bad thing, but that's the only way I can describe it. This is probably one of the most unarticulate posts I've written, and need to keep reflecting on this for the next couple of weeks in order for this to process some more!