Start of the Weekend

by Doug Roland

The seminary has four chapel services each week. The last one is at 7:45am on Friday. It is customarily a service of singing, usually a combination of English, Xhosa and Zulu songs. Or, it may be a song using all three languages.

Most weeks, there is a small, but growing, "praise band". Jenny usually puts it all together. It's a nice way to start the weekend, and I appreciate her creativity and willingness to take some chances.

Some of today's songs were not known well by the congregation of seminarians . . .and obvious others. What struck me, though, is how we listened intently to the first verse, then joined in the singing joyfully. It made me think there was something in the air that was different.

We had to work through a lot this morning. It was the day following the tragic death of the wife of one of the true leaders and most loved seminarians. His name is about 15 letters long. He goes by Gift, and he is exactly that. His wife died last Friday in an accident in which she was a pedestrian victim of a crash of two cars on the road. She and Gift had been married but a few months. The loss was incomprehensible. It has weighed on us all through the week. A number of seminarians and the dean traveled several kilometers to the funeral yesterday. And yet, on a cold, damp and dreary morning, the spirited singing rang out.

Jenny concluded the service by showing a wonderful powerpoint she created using the song, "Legacy" by a popular singer. There is a huge screen in the chapel that tends to engage the viewer better than most. She added photos to the soundtrack that related to the lyric. The theme of the song was how do we want to be remembered. It was the second time I had seen this, but the first time that I was moved. When the song was over, the powerpoint was replaced by a picture of all the seminarians taken some months ago……..

It is also customary that the president or the dean finishes with announcements ('notices' in S. Africa) There were few. Then he looked and stared at the faces on the screen, many of whom were in the chapel. Ross has an indefatigable sense of humor. He began to make amusing comments about the people on the screen, beginning with himself. One of the people running the sound and video sensed the moment and put the computer cursor on the screen, moving it around as the president cracked wise about the faces. Soon, many of us were doubled over, laughing at ourselves and with community.

Laughter can be and was contagious this morning, lifting us up from where we had been. It swept in on a great wave of joy, a reminder that even as we struggle with a senseless death, God joins us in our tears and our laughter. It is grace manifested in our lives. I doubt that this was Jenny's plan for the service. I really don't think any of us could have planned it.