FOURTH LETTER
OF HOW MY BURIAL SHOULD BE PERFORMED
To My beloveds
Beloved, I do not know when I shall die neither know I the mode of my departure. Whether I shall be caught in an explosion and thereby be burnt into ashes, or get drown in the deep blue sea and become a sumptuous ration to the whales - I know not. Whether I shall depart at home or abroad, by fire or water, by the sword or by pestilence, suddenly or gradually – I know not. And I care not to know.
But dear beloved, if by reason of Providence my mortal remains is seen and identified among men, I would wish that my burial proceeds in a logical and a simple manner; and not in that popular fashion of society. And I write to ask that you see to it Some time ago, I did hear a story of how a man was killed by his ‘deceased brother’ for not giving him a befitting burial. And occasionally, I do hear stories of such similitude; where certain deceased persons hunt the living. Inasmuch as I reckon them trifles, I do not entirely deny the possibilities of such happenings in that Satan, the author of confusion, can go any length to sow mischief among men and to imprint an incorrect idea. But we, like St. Paul rightly cautioned, ought not to “pay heed to such fables and endless genealogies, which minister questions, rather than godly edifying which is in faith.”
And truly, story as such does ministers question. For in the case of the man who was recounted killed for refusing his deceased brother a befitting burial, a colleague asked if the dead could be pleased? A clear example of what St. Paul describes as “fables which minister questions”
But to answer that question in the light of the scriptures, I will say that nothing can be done to please the dead. For once we clasp our hands over our chest we lose our moral power to do good or evil. Whatever exalts itself beyond this is the work of the devil and his angels. For even as Jacob presented Himself as Essau by impersonating the outward appearance of his brother, the devil does also imprint the real. And so like I said earlier, nothing can be done to please the dead.
That said, amidst my burial rite, should it be brought to your notice or should you remember that a poor family needs food or urgent help, I would wish that you dsissolve the congregation immediately and go care for that family. You can always continue from where you left, and it would never be out of order. Until you have cared for the living, do not give any attention to the dead. For “Our main business”, says John Tulloch, the 19th century saint, “is not with the dead, but with the living, whom we may succor and help and guide.
Beloved, I know you have always wished me well. But it is imperative that I tell you this - when I die, I do not wish to be laid in an expensive casket or that which excites the envy of the public. Any wooden structure will do. Perhaps, you can even wrap me in a white swaddling cloth and then cast me into the earth from whence I came. I consider it madness above all madness to spend huge sums of money in discarding carcasses. It probably should be the cheapest and the easiest thing to do. That whole business of casting ‘earth back to earth’ should not cause men fortunes like it does today. I mean if men will allow “the dead bury their dead” or say “allow the dust repossess its dust”, that whole burial enterprise will never be a multi-billion one like it is today with all those fleet of investors and middle men. I don’t understand why thousands and millions of dollars should go down the drain in discarding dead matter whilst the living are often abandoned to wallow in poverty and hunger. This is the vainest of economy. Useless economy this!
Beloved, always prize the living over the dead. It is better to spend on the living than on the dead who have no sense of appreciation. Never think that you owe the dead anything. For the living does not owe the dead and the dead, the living. The only responsibility the living owes the dead is to bury him out of sight – of which I desire that my burial should be in the city of Accra since I have lived all of my life in Accra. I would also wish that you bury me in any of the cemeteries or bushes in Accra.
I yet have some few things to say concerning my burial, but I will try as much as possible to make it precise as I can.
The first is that, before my remains are carried to the burial site, I wish to be laid in state for those present to file past my body and to appreciate my littleness. Let them behold the end of my flesh and the conclusion of all my pride.
Dead persons are always eulogized irrespective of the life they led but I do not wish to have men say and read only good things about me on my day of burial. If I defrauded any man, allow him to come forward and speak freely. If I owed anyone a penny, let him also come out and declare it to the hearing of the church present. Set every man be at liberty to voice out any injustice I did to him or her in my lifetime. If no such man presents himself before the church to level any allegation against me, please do exhort the church to give thanks unto the God of Abraham on my behalf. For it is He that upholds me from evil, it was never by my own steadfastness for in me dwells no good. God only is good.
Please do not deny anyone the chance of seeing me in my wretchedness. Should even a mad man appear out of a bush at the very minute my remains are about to be lowered into the grave and demand to know who it is that is lying in that casket or cloth, I pray you grant him access to also feast his eyes on my wretchedness. Until the stones and sand are finally shoveled above my corpse, please do not deny anyone who so wishes to see me from beholding my littleness. Let all be at liberty to scrutinize my corpse on that fateful Friday or Saturday.
After friend and families have filed past my body, sit every one down and preach a sermon of love to the congregations gathered. But should you relegate that to any of the brothers by way of grief, please instruct him to preach on the value of love. Tell him to tell every man to forgive his neighbor. Encourage every man to share and care for the weaker brethren who have fallen in life. And above all, let the congregation be told about the Love of God and the need to love God in an uncompromised manner. Though this might not look too good a sermon to preach on a memorial ground where heads are bowed in grief, I strongly desire to have this sermon preached on that Saturday I will be laid before the church.
Once this is done, let the following hymns and songs be sung; “Abide with me” by Henry Frances Lyte, “How sweet the name of Jesus Sounds” by John Newton, “Rock of Ages, cleft for me” by Augustus Montague Toplady, “I’ll Praise my maker while I have breath” by Isaac Watts, “The Old rugged Cross” by George
Bennard, “Yε Wᴐ Ɔman Bi Wᴐhᴐ” by Helena Rubbles and finally “Ɔko yi” by Yaw Sarpong & Asomafo.
When all is said and done, you can move my remains to the burial site for the final rites to be performed after which all may be discharged to go to their respective homes.
Dear one, please endeavor very much to ensure that once the burial is over, there is no partying or sharing of assorted foods and drinks whatsoever, for such things swell up vanity. Call it all over at the cemetary.
Two things remain uncertain to me. First is that I do not know what the future holds for me; whether I shall outlive my mother or she shall outlive me. If she happens to outlive me or should we say happens to be alive on the day of my burial, please do keep a close eye on her for me and comfort her for me, for she loves me greatly.
Endeavor very much to keep her from joining the church to the cemetery where I shall be thrown away. But never leave her alone. What I tell you before, I tell you again; KEEP A CLOSE EYE ON HER FOR ME.
The second is that, I do not know how I shall die like I said earlier and I care not to know. This letter only applies in a situation where my corpse is seen in earth’s domain for burial. If I happen to die in a manner that gives nature the sole rights of burying me as in the case of being carried away by flood or getting drowned and trapped in the ocean below, reckon this letter null and insignificant since my corpse will never be seen for formal burials. In such an instance, you are not enjoined to follow any of the directions in this letter.
Whichever way I die, it is all good and I dread not any should it be the dealing of Providence
Please do well to encourage yourself and your brethren in those hard moments. But if there is the need for any tears to be shed, let it be shed. I do not forbid anyone from crying or shedding tears, for myself, I am a lover of tears.
Only that do not weep and sorrow as them that are hopeless. If indeed you believe in the final resurrection of the dead, then do not sorrow for any dead saint as though he is gone forever and would never be restored? For assuredly, I say unto you that they only sleep in Christ and they shall surely be restored at that last hour.
ETERNITY
---Anonymous
“O Years! and Age! Farewell:
Behold I go,
Where I do know
Infinity to dwell.
And these mine eyes shall see
All times, how they
Are lost i' the Sea
Of vast Eternity.
Where never Moon shall sway
The Stars; but she,
And Night, shall be
Drown'd in one endless Day.”
PARTING
By Spita, translated by Sarah Findlater
What mean ye by this wailing
To break my bleeding heart?
As if the love that binds us
Could alter or depart!
Our sweet and holy union
Knows neither time nor place;
The love that God has planted
Is lasting as His grace.
Ye clasp these hands at parting,
As if no hope could be;
While still we stand for ever
In blessed unity!
Ye gaze, as on a vision
Ye never could recall,
While still each thought is with you,
And Jesus with us all!
Ye say, "We here, thou yonder,
Thou goest, and we stay!"
And yet Christ's mystic body
Is one eternally.
Ye speak of different journeys,
A long and sad adieu!
While still one way I travel,
And have one end with you!
Why should ye now be weeping
These agonizing tears?
Behold our gracious Leader,
And cast away your fears.
We tread one path to glory,
Are guided by one hand,
And led in faith and patience
Unto one Fatherland!
Then let this hour of parting
No bitter grief record,
But be an hour of union
More blessed with our Lord!
With Him to guide and save us,
No changes that await,
No earthly separations
Can leave us desolate!