TRADITIONAL ASSOCIATION AND CHRISTIANITY

I serve as the Secretary of an Edo Delta Association, a community I have been part of for about eight years. Growing up, I carried a deep seated belief that a good Christian shouldn't join such associations. In my brought up teachings, anything outside church programs and house fellowship was not considered a fitting gathering for a believer.

But life, and faith, often teach us in unexpected ways.

Last month, one of our members lost his wife. As an association, we felt a deep responsibility to stand with him in his time of grief. Though the bereaved family had not planned the wake with us, we mobilized ourselves to attend and offer our support.

The wake keep was scheduled to start at 8 p.m. We arrived shortly after 9 p.m., only to find the place completely filled. It took us over thirty minutes just to find a parking space. When we finally settled into our seats, I looked around at the sea of unfamiliar faces. I live far from this community, and I knew almost no one there.

Then, less than an hour later, someone approached me.

"Pastor," he said, "we need your audience."

I was surprised but followed him. The bereaved husband, along with a group of people who had organized the event, looked at me with earnest expectation. They asked me to minister and pray.

Confusion washed over me. Why me? In this vast crowd of people, why was a stranger being called upon to minister at a wake keep? I hesitated for a moment, then quietly told them, "I am not a pastor." Still, I accepted the call to minister.

I don't know exactly how spiritual I flow that night. But I will never forget what happened next.

As I finished, a profound stillness fell over the crowd. You could hear a pin drop. Everyone sat motionless, moved by something beyond words. Even those of other faiths, who had been standing as observers, stood in quiet reverence, visibly affected.

That moment taught me something I will never forget.

People are always watching your character and your lifestyle. You may never hear it directly, but the respect you receive or don't receive is a reflection of the life you live. That night, I wasn't called because of a title. I was called because, somehow, my life had spoken before my words ever did.

Oyugbo JONAH Osagie