Hindu Brahmin Performing Christian Funeral Rites in Nagaland

The phrase “life is a journey” is often used as a metaphor to describe our transient stay on earth.  As for me, it is not just a metaphor but an inseparable fact of life.  This journey started from the day I was born.  Astrologers concluded that my birth meant the death of my father.  The only escape from this impending doom was for me to be out of his sight forever.  There was no way for father to leave the family as he already had three daughters to look after.  Thus, I was let loose from the family to wander the face of the earth to avoid my father’s sight.  Until the age of 16, I stumbled through this journey from place to place, often at the mercy of people; some good and some really evil.

By the time I turned 17, I was very tired and wanted to end this journey.  Life on earth was no longer bearable.  I had no care for the afterlife.  After all who knew whether there is one?  Many months went into planning, but could not determine the method to exit the scene.  It was during these agonizing months a booklet fell in my hands introducing to me the Lord of life Jesus Christ who not only saved me from suicide but also from sin and hell.

When Jesus saved me from myself and gave me new life, he too set me on a journey.  Unlike the previous one, this journey is so amazing, so adventurous, and so beautiful that I enjoy the celestial touch in every place I stop to take a breath.  Recently, this journey took me and my wife to Nagaland where we experienced God’s amazing grace physically and spiritually.

On October 1^st at five o’clock in the morning, my wife and I headed to Guwahati railway station.  In came brother Valpuia Renthlei along with us to attend CMCI’s ‘Kingdom Summit 2019’ in Dimapur, Nagaland.  Train journey was pleasant.  Rev. S.N. Lotha picked us up from railway station.  Rev. Lotha is the founding pastor of El Elyon Church in Dimapur.  Single-handedly and with his own resources, he purchased the land and built a beautiful building for this church where the Kingdom Summit was taking place. 

We had a wonderful first day of the Summit and met many other men and women of God.  Rev. Lotha hosted us in his own home for the night.  We were filled with great anticipation for the next day’s program.

  

In the wee hours of the night, my wife received a phone call from her sister’s family in Kohima.  A few days before our journey, Vinoto (our nephew) was admitted in the hospital due to breathing problems.  We were planning to visit them after the summit.  The sobbing voice of our niece betrayed the hope of seeing Vinoto alive.  Just about that time, doctor had told the family to say final goodbye.  He was only 23; a handsome young man.

Family, friends and neighbors had come to hospital early in the morning.  Back in their hometown of Lazami, arrangements were being made for the afternoon funeral.  As we sat on our bed, my wife and I were in a great dilemma.  The second day of the summit was very important for us and our ministry in Guwahati.  We never wanted to miss that.  But the funeral in the afternoon meant we had to leave Dimapur early in the morning.  Heavy rain and the ongoing  construction of the highway makes it a 6 hour journey to Kohima. 

To make the matter more complicated for us, we needed the Inner Line Permit to enter Nagaland from Dimapur.  The office would only open after 10AM and even then, permit would be granted only on the following day. 

While we were unable to make up our minds, Rev. Lotha spoke with boldness and told us to go to Kohima without a permit and the Lord would protect us.  He arranged a very good vehicle for us, and without the permit my wife and I headed to Kohima; not knowing if we would be detained along the way should our vehicle gets inspected by the police.  Lo and behold, after six hours of driving through dangerous terrain, we reached Kohima.  There was no inspection along the way!  We were sad for the loss of our nephew but also glad that we were not detained by the police.

In reaching the hospital, we saw people crowding in front of ICU; some kind of confusion was going on.  We found out that as the nurses were preparing the body for funeral and changing the hospital clothes, they discovered some signs of life in the body.  Doctors immediately put him back in life support.  Soon the blood pressure and body temperature returned to normal and he began to show signs of consciousness. 

Knowing that Vinoto had not taken baptism, some church leaders asked the young man to accept Christ in his heart.  He seemed to respond with affirmation.  By the time we reached, all this had taken place and people who had come to take him in the coffin were returning back.  We were rejoicing for the miracle.

I was a bit disappointed in missing the conference.  But talking to Mr. Wotsa (Vinoto’s father), I sensed the struggles he was going through.  Although his son had come back to life but doctors had not given him the assurance of full recovery.  If his son dies again, he would have to bury him in an unmarked grave without the funeral rites and prayers performed by any minister because he was not baptized.  This seemed to be the cultural norm even for the children born in a Christian family.  Such a thought tormented Mr. Wotsa and his voice was shaking with “if only…!”  Without thinking much I said, “I can baptize him right now if he had accepted Christ!”  His eyes brightened up and shouted “how?, he can’t be put into water.” 

Having baptized a few people on their deathbed before, I explained to him the ‘how’ and ‘what’ it means to be baptized.  He was so joyful.  Nagaland is a Baptist Bible Belt of India and sprinkling baptism is not accepted as scriptural.  So, I urged him to talk to his pastor about it.  In divine providence, his pastor happened to be one of our dear friends!

All the family members gathered around Vinoto’s bed in the ICU.  After praying, reading a scripture passage, and speaking to Vinoto, I took my mineral water bottle and baptized him there in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.  Then I took my hair oil bottle and anointed him for the baptism of the Holy Spirit.  For a brief moment, the ICU ward of Naga Hospital in Kohima became a holy ground.  Other patients and their caretakers paid a respectful attention to what we were doing. 

As we came out of ICU, there was a remarkable transformation in Mr. Wotsa’s face.  He kept on saying, “God brought you to Kohima for this only!”  He began to talk about the Baptism Certificate and I promised to send him after I get back to Guwahati.

Because we had already missed our conference, my wife and I decided to stay in Kohima for a few days and see Vinoto’s progress.  He was fighting back and winning.  But on 4^th of October at about 4PM, after fighting for two days, he gave up and went home to be with Christ whom he had accepted in his deathbed.  He came back to life as if only to be baptized.  The folks in the hometown had to re-start the preparation for the funeral. 

Within a couple of hours, family, friends, church members, and neighbors gathered in the hospital and prepared everything to transport the body to Lazami.  Instead of Kohima, family wanted to bury him in their ancestral place.  The associate pastor of their current church in Kohima performed the sending ceremony from the hospital.

We started from Kohima at about 7PM and arrived in Lazami just before 10PM.  The hearse was escorted by many vehicles.  Every vehicle had to put up a black flag and turn on all the blinkers.  It was amazing how people respected and allowed these vehicles to pass first.  While reflecting on what was happening, I thought to myself, “how wonderful it would be to die and be buried in Nagaland!”

By the time we arrived in Lazami, the local pastor in that village had heard about the sprinkling baptism.  Many eyebrows were being raised; specially by the church authorities.  The local pastor interviewed me very diligently; making sure that I was an ordained pastor.  He was a young man simply doing his duty without jeopardizing his job.  Name tag from the ‘Kingdom Summit’ did the job for my ordination certificate!  Finally he found an easy escape from his predicament; because the family cannot produce baptism certificate for the deceased, he could not perform the funeral rites.  Once again Mr. Wotsa’s heart was broken.  But he turned to me and said, “God not only brought you to Kohima to baptize my son, he also brought you to Lazami to bury my son.”  In fact, my health condition was not good and we were not planning to travel to Lazami.  He was the one insisting I stay back in Kohima.  However, I ended up there.

Funeral started at 10 o’clock in the morning in an open community ground.  There were many people gathered as this case had generated so much curiosity in the surrounding areas.  Fortunately, most of the attendees were able to understand English (except the elderly folks of the village).  As I proceeded into the funeral program, I could not help but wonder within myself about the oddity of a Hindu Brahmin from western Nepal performing a Christian funeral in the interior part of Nagaland!

Romans 8:28 is one of the most recited, quoted and memorized verses of the Bible that says, “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.”     

When the Hindu astrologers decided my fate to be a wanderer in the world from the day I was born, how could they know that I would wander in Nagaland and become a source of comfort to a family that had lost their beautiful son!  How could the astrologers know that I would be ordained as a Presbyterian minister!  How could they know that I would travel with the young man’s body to his hometown so that the next day his heartbroken family would not be crushed again by the manmade rules of the church and bury their son without performing the funeral rites, and without marking the grave with the cross!  How could they?

No, the Hindu astrologers had no clue about the amazing life I would have in Christ Jesus.  Yes, my life was not easy until the day I met Christ; it was miserable and had no clue as why I had to go through those dark years.  But looking back, now I know and understand that in everything God worked for my good.  Even the astrologers were doing what God had ordained for my life.  If those astrologers had not made me a wanderer, I would have never experienced God’s amazing grace.  I would not have the opportunity to be a channel of God’s grace to those who are suffering and grieving in this world.

Pastoral ministry provides sacred opportunities of sharing the joys and sorrows of God’s people.  Even in a Sema village in Nagaland, I was able to soothe the wounds of a family that was grieving.  The journey continues, and the saying, “Life is a journey, not a destination” may not be correct theologically.  But experientially, it makes a perfect sense.