Yesterday my friends and I filled another pew at yet another funeral. His name was Dimitri Links and at 21 was fatally and tragically stabbed after an argument about what time a vegetable stand should pack up.
The funeral I have to accredit as one of the best I've ever been to (yes I can make a statement like this- I've been to 22 funerals), it was spirit filled like no other I've seen and glorified death for the 'step towards home' that it is. As an Anglican raised in a Dutch Reformed household, the church to me would ethnocentrically be 'happy clappy', but in this instance these 'happy' people reflected Dimitri's personality and with inspiring enthusiasm embraced death as our Orthodox churches fail to. If you are not familiar with the term 'juig', it is the act of worship in the form of joyous, rythmic dance. On this day his friends and family, and girlfriend who had been unfortunate enough to witness his murder, rejoiced in his ascension and his 'return home'. The service did not leave those attended in woeful mourning, but with the sense that he really now was, in a better place.
This morning the brother of the 'murderer' called out to me in greeting as we were in primary school together, I was torn as could be expected and my curt response was dragged out and uneasy- it did however bring me to a conclusion about death 22 funerals later:
In tragic deaths like these, as with any, people leave us when it is their time to do so. I think that when 'Ollie' died at the hand of foul play rather than a mere accident, it was his last good deed. There was little doubt around the situation that the murderer did not realise that his actions would be fatal. In death Dimitri may have changed the life of a young man previously rude and temperemental, waking him up to reality and possibly startling him into a new take on life.
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