Congo life and folklore

by John H. Weeks

On arriving in the village of the deceased man, Mikula went straight to the house of mourning, and spoke a few kindly, comforting words to the widow who was weeping silently by the corpse of her lost one. A few young men picked up the body and carried it reverently to the little chapel.

It was an unpretentious building of wattle and daub, colour-washed and clean--a house of comfort and strength, a place of worship to the few souls in that village who professed the Christian faith. In front of the small platform the body was laid, and over it were spread some palm-fronds--symbols of joy and victory.

Mikula conducted a simple service, and spoke with much tenderness and force to the heathen present, on “Father, forgive them; they know not what they do.” They listened attentively, and more than one man dated his conversion to that address. At the grave a hymn of triumph was sung, and then the poor wasted body was laid to rest with these beautiful words as its shroud: “Death is swallowed up in victory. O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? Thanks be to God, who giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.”

No drunken orgies, no dissipated feasts, no sensual dances accompanied this funeral; neither was it followed by any smelling out of witches, nor charges of witchcraft, nor giving of the ordeal, nor the leaving on some neighbouring hill-top the stabbed body of a murdered man. Death was now dressed in another garb, wore a different aspect, for it was now regarded not as the result of malignant witchcraft, but the call of the Father to His child to occupy one of the places in the many mansions. Consequently there were no howls of rage, no wails of despair, no sinister threats of vengeance over the body of the deceased, but the palm-fronds, the hymns, the promise of a sure and certain resurrection, and the assurance that the absent one was present with the Lord--the dead had received eternal life.

Mikula hurried forward the completion of his house, as he desired to visit the station for the week of special teaching periodically arranged for teachers, deacons and Christian workers. Soon after we started on the road we were joined at different points by teachers and deacons whose faces, like my owner’s, were turned towards their Jerusalem--the Mission Station.

We arrived on Saturday afternoon, and were cordially welcomed by the white men, not one of whom I recognized as being on the station when Bakula lived there. I heard that some of them had died and were buried on the hillside overlooking a quiet peaceful valley, and others broken by health, had been compelled to leave the country; but whether dead or sick, their work was being prosecuted with zeal by those who had taken their places.

The foundations so well and truly laid were now receiving the superstructure, the cornerstone of which was Christ. Other men had laboured, and these had entered into their labours; would they not all rejoice together when the topstone was placed amid the shouts of men and angels?

The lessons began in earnest on Monday morning, and for the next five days the teachers and others present received five hours a day of special instruction in such subjects as would help them in their work as teachers and leaders of the people--sermon-making, pastoral theology, Church history, hygiene, astronomy, geography, and a thorough study of one of the Gospels. Each attendant had his exercise-book, and opportunities were given for taking copious notes. These afterwards became the bases of many of the addresses they delivered to their people in the numerous little chapels dotted about the districts.

There were early morning prayer-meetings, the usual morning services, and public meetings on two or three evenings during the week. Between the lectures the teachers discussed with the white man who had charge of their particular district the peculiar difficulties of their spheres of labour, and sought counsel and guidance on knotty biblical, doctrinal, or other questions.

It was a busy time for all, white and native teachers alike; but it was of untold value to the latter, and undoubtedly exerted a great and beneficial influence on their life and labours. On the Sunday following the week of lectures, the Communion was taken; and the teachers returned strengthened, mentally and spiritually, to their work.