The Dead Next Door

**The content of this post may be difficult for those sensitive to death and dead bodies. 

At about 1530 this afternoon I noticed a strange commotion in my neighbor's front yard. I peeked with curiosity through my window where I saw a crowd of men and women gathered around some form on the ground. They were throwing flowers over it, touching their foreheads, and then bowing at the base of the form. At first, I thought I was witnessing some form of puja (worship) or idol worship. It was indeed a form of puja, but when the space cleared I realized the focus of their puja was a dead body.

On Saturday, I took a small group to the four major tourist sights in Kathmandu. One of those sights is Pashupatinath Temple, the most holy Hindu temple in all of Nepal. This temple sits on the bank of the Bagmati river and is the site of cremation and Hindu ritual that carries the dead to the next life. I expect to see dead bodies burning and/or preparing for cremation when I visit this place. In fact, there were several bodies burning on Saturday. I sadly recognized my hardness to this sight of death when I watched the surprise, disgust, and intrigue of my visitors. It was then that I realized anew the significance of this sight. Before me were several bodies burning in the physical world. I watched. I prayed. Are they also burning in the spiritual world? Did anyone share the Gospel with them? Did they have an opportunity to know God? Only God knows. Still, it reminds me of the value of seizing every opportunity to share the love of God and His free gift of salvation.

Two days later I find myself face-to-face with this reality once again. Only this time, I wasn't traveling to a Hindu holy site. Instead, the dead were next door. What else is going on around me that I haven't taken the time to see?

Three Weeks in Daduwa

Daduwa

Daduwa is a village comprised of several other smaller villages distinguished by clan. It is nestled in the foothills of the Himalayas of central Nepal with breathtaking views of the Annapurna and the Lamjung mountain ranges. Though I often lost myself in the magnificent beauty and majesty of God’s Creation, I  couldn’t help but remember that God is not in the mountain. He is not in the wind that rends the mountains, He is not in the earthquake, or in the fire (1 Kings 19: 11-12). No - our God is the gentle voice that caresses the spirit of those willing to be still and listen. I listened for God in the three weeks I spent in this beautiful village with these beautiful people. He was with us. I saw what He saw. More than that, I loved as He loved.

My New Family

I lived with a family that embraced me as their own. I became younger sister, bahini. Deepa  and Syano became my older sisters, didi. Suchandra, Deepa’s husband and the only follower of Jesus, became my older brother, dai. Together we lived and we laughed and together we cried when the time for departure came. I pray to never forget what we shared and I’m already making plans to return.

I’m not sure how to adequately describe the bond that developed or the experiences we shared. Is it enough to know that I’m changed? Is it enough to know that I tasted a new love, both in my Savior and in this family and community? I am amazed and I am humbled by the love of God. Words fail to justly describe the love He bestows upon His children and how He desires to be in relationship with us. Yet Paul encapsulates God’s love in one word: inseparable (Romans 8:38-39). Jesus suffered the ultimate separation in body so that we wouldn’t have to (John 3:16). Why? For love.

I have seen and tasted a love that transcends cultural and language barriers. It has moved me in ways that I cannot explain. I am overwhelmed and filled to overflowing with desperation to share God’s love! I want nothing more than to spend eternity in the presence of God surrounded by the faces or these people.

One Sacrifice. . .One day

My timing in the village was unique. I was there during the greatest annual festival of the Hindu-Buddhist world, Daishan. In addition to cultural celebration and various forms of worship to ancestors and lifeless images, it is a time of animal sacrifice.

It was a dark day. I will not forget. The details are not important. Make no mistake, a day is coming when the darkness will be lifted. I long for the day when the people of Daduwa will no longer feel compelled to sacrifice goats and buffalos for the absolution of sin and the chance for salvation and know with full confidence that One Sacrifice was made for all.

One day, the earth will shake. The high places will fall, the carved images and sacred stones will be destroyed. In that day, the Church in Daduwa will stand unshaken and the lips of many will praise God in their native tongue. They will walk hours from their remote villages to unite in fellowship as one body. The children will know the Love of God. The Word will spread. It will be a beautiful day - one the Lord has already prepared. Amen!