November 2005

Dear Friends,

The mother of one of our seminary students died, and I went with his classmates to the cremation service at the funeral home. When we picture funeral homes in the United States, we picture plush carpets and black-suited funeral directors. But in Taipei the city government runs the funeral homes. There were ten halls lined up beside each other. In each hall a funeral was taking place. The front doors were all open, so we could see into each hall. Except for the hall we were in, all the others had Buddhist and Taoist images. Some were decorated to depict Nirvana, a place of peace.

There was a large picture of our student’s mother set above beds of lilies. Two pastors had been asked to speak. The family all wore black, and worshippers were given a paper cross to stick on our shirts. We sang hymns and prayed and listened to Scripture and a sermon. After the service we all walked to the back of the hall where there was an open casket. Each worshipper was given a flower to place inside the casket. The family greeted each person and openly expressed their grief.

After that, we all walked down a long hall past the various halls to the crematorium. They wheeled the casket into the crematorium and we remained outside. There were television screens above which allowed us to see inside where they were cremating the bodies.

We were gathered on one side where the pastor read more Scripture and we sang hymns. On the opposite side was a long table with urns of peoples’ ashes. There were Taoist priests and family members praying to help their loved ones move to a higher level. They believe these prayers are vital to help loved ones leave this world. It was a noisy place, with all sorts of folks expressing their grief in different ways.

As the Taoists prayed, the Christians sang hymns of hope. It was a striking scene as the two different groups expressed what death and life-after-death means to each. The Christians had no need to help their loved one, for Christ has done that.

Death practices in Taiwan are quite varied. There is a thriving funeral mourning business, which hires professional groups to grieve for the family. Grieving relatives are often too weary or numb to shed the requisite number of tears, so rather than leave a void, they hire women to wail, scream, and create the kind of anguished sorrow befitting a proper funeral. Often this kind of mourning can go on for an hour with music and dancing and wailing. Complex, lavish, and drawn out, the performances are as much a status symbol for the living as they are a sign of respect for the dead.

At the end of the service I reflected with some of the students what we had just witnessed. I asked them how they felt about the different expressions we saw from different religions. Our students will graduate and enter a society where they are the minority. They will live with non-Christian neighbors who keep the casket of their loved one in the living room of the house for a week to help them move to a higher level. But they will share a different message of a Lord who has come to give us new life. They will proclaim the hope of the resurrection, which happens because of the love and sacrifice of Jesus Christ.

As I left the funeral home and walked back into the busy streets of Taipei, I thought about the culture to which God has called me. I thought about our students and how their role is so important—to share the good news of the gospel in season and out of season. I ask your prayers for them as they prepare to be Christ’s salt and light in this land.

Grace and peace,

John McCall

The 2005 Mission Yearbook for Prayer & Study, p. 253