HOLY Holy Week

To say that Holy Week is a big event here in the Soweto circuit would be the understatement of the year. I was able to take part in all the festivities, which conveniently took place about 100 yards (or 91.44 metres to be more regionally correct) away from where I stay. Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and a Saturday night vigil that went right on until Easter morning where the scheduled events, and not one was lacking in either number of attendees or enthusiasm. All the Lutherans in Soweto were invited, and many where there. It was quite the spectacle, and I witnessed it all from the second row (reserved for pastors and their families, but I make the cut being an American missionary who happens to be very close to the Dean of the circuit). Without further introduction, here is my account of my Holy Week marathon church experience, unedited, uncensored, uncut.

 I suppose it is not entirely accurate to say I was there for ALL the Holy Week festivities. I strolled over to church on Palm Sunday, very much on time, and the sanctuary was completely deserted. I guess I missed the memo, which most certainly was in isiZulu. I still have not received an explanation of where everyone was but I am guessing they had some sort of joint service with our partner parish. This miscommunication led me to be very diligent in finding out the schedule for the rest of Holy Week, especially the starting time for the Maundy Thursday service. I did not want to chance missing anything else.

 Maundy Thursday rolled around and I made it there at 6 pm sharp. For some reason I had it in my mind that it would be a smaller service. It was a rainy night and I figured a number of people would be heading home for the Easter weekend (Soweto is not considered “home” to most people, they only “stay” in Soweto, home is where they were born). I could not have been more wrong about the expected crowd. Over 1000 people filled the church that evening. Luckily the Diocesan Centre has the facilities to accommodate that many worshipers. Maundy Thursday is my favorite day of the church year. To me, the combined events of Jesus washing his disciples’ feet and then giving them the new commandment to love one another is the cornerstone of my faith. I am always deeply moved by that text. The words were put into action that evening, with the pastors washing everyone’s feet and later distributing Holy Communion on the very night commemorating the first time it was done. There was plenty of singing and dancing in the way that only South Africans know how. My site supervisor, Reverend SS Mugivhi delivered a poignant sermon and I went home feeling spiritually rejuvenated. The service lasted a little over three hours and it was seemed like it was over in the blink of an eye. One service down, a few more to go.

 Good Friday began with a procession that started at a park nearly two miles (3.22 km) away. I estimate about 500 people taking part in the walk. We followed a roughly constructed cross upon which a crown of thorns was placed. We paraded through the streets of Soweto singing and stopping seven times to hear readings from the back of a van with speakers rigged on the top. These stops represented the seven Stations of the Cross. It was a new experience for me to be so public with my faith. I found it to be extremely enjoyable to be out there with my fellow Lutherans. For that hour we took over the streets of Soweto, and could not have enjoyed it more. Upon arrival, the church was already almost full. There were even more people than the previous night. After more readings, singing and a sermon by Reverend Mangka, we had a brief lunch break and then found ourselves back in the church ready for more. Seven Bible verses were read and a different pastor gave a short homily on each one. It was a great opportunity to hear different pastors preach. Many of these pastors have become my good friends and it was a joy to see them in their element, preaching passionately on this mort important of days.

 Now we come to the part of the Good Friday service where things got a little interesting. I will start by saying that Lutherans here in South Africa worship with an enthusiasm that perhaps even eclipses the rowdiest of Southern Baptist congregations in the States. The pastors work up a sweat while preaching, often beginning by speaking softly and allow their voice to crescendo until the are yelling at the top of their lungs prompting equally fervent responses of  “Amen!” and “Hallelujah!” (Lent or not) There is plenty of clapping and dancing, as well as singing spontaneous choruses that seem to be known from birth. I have said before that South Africans seem to all be blessed with beautiful singing voices and an innate ability to harmonize. There is also no fear of singing in front of others. If there is a pause in the service, one person will stand up and start singing alone before the other congregants join him or her. If this individual can get their hands on a microphone, all the better. There is no fear, but I suppose if I could sing like that I would not be afraid to show off a bit. There were times on Good Friday where people simply refused to stop singing, even when there was someone up front asking for quiet. The Spirit could not be contained.

 The pastor that preached on the seventh and final Bible text is known for his flamboyance during worship. He requested a constant gospel-sounding melody be played on an electric keyboard as he preached. He worked himself into a frenzy and took most of the congregation with him. He began to pray, and then he began to babble. I think he was speaking in tongues (and it was not the first time I have witnessed said pastor do so), but as an American Lutheran I am not all too familiar with the practice. The people were then invited forward for blessings and a long line (or a queue as they call it here) quickly formed. Fortunately the other pastors mobilized and started giving blessings as well; otherwise, we would still be there. It was then when individuals began to fall, “Slain by the Spirit” as someone close to me calls it. I have never seen anything like it: falling down, shaking, just laying there. Eventually the slain seem to snap out of their trance and get up no worse for wear. This went on for some time, congregation singing all the while. It was quite the spectacle, and a little bit freaky, and something I never thought I would see in the Lutheran church. The Good Friday service ended with the laying of flowers on the same cross with which we paraded through the streets and then stripping of the altar. The mood changed to somber, the way I am used to Good Friday being. Whew! Nearly seven hours of church before calling it a day! It was an experience I will not soon forget.  

 Saturday’s service was the one I was a little nervous about, but excited as well. The reason being that Saturday evening’s service was to go on right through the night and become Sunday morning’s Easter service. Yes, an all-nighter. Second row to the left (my usual seat) and strait on ‘till morning. There was a set program that was more or less loosely followed. South Africa is the first place that I have ever seen an hour set aside for just “praise and worship” (there was more than one hour block for that as well). There were a few words spoken by the pastor who was leading (more of an MC on this night), some banging of drums, dancing, and as always, singing those choruses. I thought there was no way there would be enough choruses stored in the memories of the congregants to make it through the night, but with the exception of a few repeated favorites, there was always a new song to sing. A group of talented youth from one of the parishes delivered a powerful drama acting out the Passion story. It was meaningful to me that the young man playing Jesus, in addition to effectively portraying our Savior’s anguish, spoke some of his lines in English and other lines in the actor’s native tongue (forgive me for not recognizing which language). I found that Jesus speaking an African language creates a sense of God’s presence throughout the entire world. There was then a time set aside for individuals to give their personal testimony of how God works wonders in their lives. Many of these were not in English (luckily for me the majority of the services were conducted in my language due to the diverse nature of the people gathered… diverse in terms of language, anyway), and I will say that while some testimonies were quite moving, others were a little lengthy and repetitive. There was supposed to be an hour break, but somehow that got thrown right out. We did each get a cup of soup (mmm liver) to get us through the night. Representatives from individual parishes came forward to lead a chorus as a sort of gift to the circuit, and of course, to God. Always singing. Always praising. Never wanting to stop.

 All this and more brought us to about midnight (only) and then it was time for another sermon, which was a sort of mass bible study conducted in a professorial way by a very bright and dynamic pastor. He chose a series of related texts that were read by volunteers from the congregation and then would reflect on the text and tie it into the next one. It was a fantastic way to keep the people engaged after midnight. Following the lecture was something that I am pretty convinced that has never been on an agenda for a Lutheran service. It was time for the alter call. The pastor who speaks in tongues was in charge, so I knew it would be an event in itself. He began by rallying the troops in the way only he can, then got to work praying and blessing until people all around were falling over once again. After a while, as the crowd up front began to disperse, I witnessed another thing that I have never seen. I cannot say for certain, but I think I saw an exorcism take place. A young woman, probably a few years younger than me, was visibly trembling while she was brought to a chair in front (other blessings were still being done so it was not as if she was the center of attention). Seven pastors then gathered around, laid their hands on her, and started praying with fervor. She began to thrash around violently and it was all the pastors could do to keep her in the chair. I swear at one point I heard her scream. It did not seem to me that anyone else around thought this to be unusual, so I tried to watch the scene unfold with as neutral of an expression as I could muster. Admittedly, I was a little freaked out by what I saw. Eventually the girl got up and walked away a little dazed. I guess the demons were successfully cast away.

 The early morning hours brought more praise and worship and more testimonies, my memory of which is a little fuzzy to me. I was there in body but my mind was trying to concentrate on something other then the warmth of my bed. However, starting at 4 am was an event that was one of the highlights of my year in South Africa thus far. It was time for the resurrection procession. The pastors changed from wearing black robes to their Easter whites, then with lit candles in everyone’s hand, lead us out the door into the streets. We marched as many people wide as could fit in the street. We began singing “Hallelujah” in a hauntingly beautiful melody. Thousands of people with candles singing because our Lord has risen. There were still folks coming out of the church when we made it around the block the first time so we went around again. The mood was solemn and joyous at the same time. I will never forget it. We then went back into the church and began the final part of our Easter service. This was pretty “normal” compared to the rest: readings, a sermon by Dean Kasper, baptisms, communion, and then the long awaited benediction. I returned back to my place exhausted in more ways than one, but I survived. Thirteen hours, only stepping out a few times for a drink of water and some fresh air to stay awake. I am glad I had that experience, however I am not too eager to do it again anytime soon.

I found myself in church for approximately twenty-three hours during holy week. I can guarantee I will never complain about a “long” service in the United States again (not that I ever did before). At times I was incredibly moved, and other times I was a bit weirded out. Once thing for certain is that the Soweto Lutherans worship with admirable enthusiasm and are not afraid to praise God in any way they see fit. I want to make it clear that just because it is not the way many of us in the US like to worship, it does not make it any more or less right. Rather it is just different. I could probably write a book on my Easter weekend worship experience, and this reflection is becoming more and more book-like as I continue to write. Thanks again for reading. I would like to wish everyone a pleasant Easter season. Christ has risen, indeed!

Blessings