Yai Suphorn, one of the first Christians and local missionaries in Surin, and one of the pillars and matriarchs of our church, died last week. At the time, I was on a train heading to Bangkok for a quarterly executive committee meeting at the Thailand Adventist Mission headquarters. Pastor Tim, our local Surin church pastor, couldn’t be reached by phone, so it was unclear how Yai Suphorn’s funeral would be conducted. When her Buddhist-leaning children and relatives learned of her death, they lost no time in rushing in to lobby for a Buddhist funeral, and they prevailed.
So Yai Suphorn’s body was taken to the Buddhist temple grounds where her relatives and neighbors came together to perform ceremonies and make as much merit as possible, which they believed would help Yai Suphorn arrive safely in heaven. For four and a half days, they conducted many kinds of Brahman and Buddhist ceremonies. They gave money, clothing and food offerings to the monks. They lit incense and candles and guarded them from being blown out. They bowed down and worshiped, seeking to take refuge in “the triple gems”—the Buddha, his teachings, and the monks. The monks chanted and preached and accepted the abundant gifts.
I’ve seen many Buddhist funerals, but it was disturbing to see some of Yai Suphorn’s relatives, whom we had assumed were Christians, one moment sharing testimonies about how they had seen Jesus moving in their grandmother’s life, and the next moment bowing down to the Buddha image and the monks. Feeling sure that if Yai Suphorn could see what her children and grandchildren were doing, she would roll over in her casket, we decided to do all we could to witness to them and call them back to a full commitment to Jesus. On Thursday afternoon, several Christians were able to share a Bible verse and a prayer at the funeral. On Friday, a few of us stopped by to encourage and pray for the relatives. On Sabbath morning, we relocated our entire Sabbath school to the Buddhist temple to have a memorial service with some of Yai Suphorn’s favorite songs and Bible passages. We had to leave by 11 a.m. when the relatives would give a food offering to the monks, so we went back to the church and finished our Sabbath service there. On Sabbath afternoon, we returned to the temple and shared some other songs and testimonies from Yai Suphorn’s life. On Sunday morning, we read some passages about the second coming and the resurrection and shared Revelation 22’s invitation to come and take of the water of life that Jesus offers freely to all. Sunday evening, we joined a memorial service at another Christian church Yai Suphorn used to attend, helping them play some of the classic hymns Yai Suphorn loved, like Amazing Grace. On Monday, the day her body was to be cremated, we sang two more songs at the temple, and Pastor Wanlop offered a prayer. But before the actual cremation, we all sat and waited as a monk preached about how Yai Suphorn had done a lot of good in her life, and we all should do as much good and merit making as we can so that we will all be okay, too. “All religions teach people to do good,” he said. “Just do the best you can, and don’t worry about what you can’t do,” was the gist of his message.
After the cremation, there was a voodoo-like ceremony in which they gathered her ashes and formed the shape of a small body with arms, legs and head. They placed small coins on the head for eyes, nose and a mouth. They covered the body with a banana leaf and placed one of Yai Suphorn’s best folded silk outfits on top of that. Then they set a bunch of whiskey bottles around the image and tied strings around the bottles. They lit incense and began to chant over her ashes. When the chanting was finished, they started clapping, making sounds of a rooster crowing and saying to her spirit, “Wake up! Wake up! It’s time to eat!” What all they were trying to do, I can’t say for sure. But the clear message they were giving was that Yai’s spirit was still conscious and aware of what we were doing and saying.
On Tuesday, just before Yai Suphorn’s grandchildren spread her ashes on the Moon River, we took our final opportunity to speak to the relatives about Yai Suphorn’s current state, man’s whole duty, and our ultimate destiny. Eleven of her grandchildren read 11 passages from the Bible that spoke about death, the state of the dead, the hope of the righteous dead, and a final appeal to all the children to come back and stay close to God. “If Yai Suphorn were conscious and could speak,” I said, “If she could ask one thing of us, I’m sure she would not ask for our prayers, our chants, our offerings for merit or our songs. What she would really desire is that we would all join her in accepting the salvation Jesus has given her, so that on the resurrection morning, we, too, will be changed, made immortal, and taken up together with her to meet the Lord in the air.”
Then I prayed, “Lord Jesus, thank You for doing for Yai Suphorn what we are powerless to do—for forgiving her sins, for crediting Your perfect righteousness to her, for giving her grace to walk in Your way, for preparing a place for her, and for promising to come back to take her to be with You very soon! Help us now also to accept Your salvation and walk in Your way until the day we see You come! Amen.”
Did this message make a difference? One granddaughter said, “Thank you! That was perfect!” But most of the grandchildren went directly over to the ashes, lit incense sticks and said some Buddhist prayers before scattering her ashes on the river. I don’t know what God’s Word accomplished or will accomplish in their hearts, but I do hope and pray that in the resurrection, there will be more than one of Yai Suphorn’s children and grandchildren reunited with her. Maranatha!
