The Hopkins

Today was a new cultural experience for us. I feel I need to describe this so you can get a taste of Romanian culture. We went the the funeral for the women we talked about in our last blog. In the States as well as probably most of Western Europe, death is sterilized. We keep a safe distance and the dead are fixed up to appear as they did in life. Death is different here. I won't explain morbid details but give enough to get the picture. The family is responsible to go to the hospital and get the body (as was pointed out to me yesterday- I said "body" and not "her"). The family must cloth the body, carry it out to the car, and bring it home. The body is then laid out in the house in an open casket. Embalming doesn't exist here. Burials happen within a day or two for this reason.

The day of the funeral the casket is then brought into the courtyard of the house where the Orthodox priest gives a liturgy. Today was pouring rain and cold. After the liturgy the casket was taken to the cemetery. Her wish for her funeral was that her grandchildren would carry her casket through the village to the cemetery. She had 70 of them. She also lived on the opposite end of the village from the cemetery so the grandchildren followed by family and friends (150 people) walked the 1 km to the cemetery in the rain on the main street. Rather than baskets of flowers at a funeral they make these 1-1 1/2 meter tall pine branch cluster that stand against the wall. There are flowers on the front of these but the flowers always in an even number like 12. We go to the cemetery and 30 of us each had one of these. As the funeral procession comes into the cemetery we form almost a long tunnel by hold these branches up on the air (like military swords are held to make an arch). The procession then passes under these. There is also a group of musicians that lead the procession. A violin, a trumpet, and an accordian. We walked up the hill which was quite treacherous with the rain and so many people. At the top was a perfectly rectangular hand dug grave. The casket is then lowered in the ground and the priest does a few more things at the grave side. Then the grave is filled completely back in and mounded. A wooded cross is placed in the ground. Then all the pine branches are laid on top. It made the most beautiful mound of flowers and pine. By this point I was cold and wet. When we got down to the bottom of the hill we were all invited into the community center where long tables and wooden benches were lined with soup bowls. We ate delicious soup, followed by cabbage, and then a hearty bowl of potatoes and meat. For many in the village this was rare meal and truly a blessing.

As I considered this new experience I think about what our friend Hans said yesterday. Romanians may live in a house with three generations- you will see babies being born, babies being made, and people dying. Families are very close. I don't write any of this to say that the Romanian way is bad- it is just different and it makes me wonder when our culture had to made death look so clean.

Even though Magda's mama came to the Nazarene church she was buried Orthodox. The Nazarene church doesn't have a cemetery so the only place to be buried in the village is the Orthodox cemetery which mean it must be an Orthodox burial. On Sunday night we will be having a memorial service at the Tsigmandru Church. Tomorrow I will be going out there to practice music with some men and women from the village for the service. Please be in prayer that this will be a time of healing for the family and an opportunity for the people of the village to turn their eyes to God and rely on him for strength in this difficult time.- Karen