Now the
climax had come. The day to bury the Lord. His Most Peaceful, Baba Simeo Melkio
Messiah. The Prince of Peace. The Lord of Lords.
It was on the 14th day of September 2024. The
33rd Year since his flesh was buried at Got Kalafare, by Saint Timotheo Blasio
Atila.
It was also
the only other year since 1991 when all the dates matched the days of the week
as they were when he abandoned his flesh and ascended, into glory.
Like we all know, he is now our chief
mediator, our chief advocate, before the throne room of Jehovah, the Lord of
all Hosts.
On the
morning of the 14th, a procession left as is custom. To the Sheep Field, called
Paw Rombe. Then by some minutes past 10 a.m. it would leave to the Home of the Holy
Spirit, John Baru’s homestead.
At Paw
Rombe came the usual spirit. That harambee spirit. The spirit that calls the
faithful to give some money, then, unfortunately divides it to the clergy. It
may be God’s spirit. I don’t know. I am not sure, these days.
Why do I
say so? There are no toilets at Got
Kalafare. Most cardinals have some funny things they have erected near their
poor dusty houses, which they call toilets—the right term would perhaps be
latrines.
Like there
is this pit latrine near Saint Timotheo Atila’s shrine, and next to a cardinal’s
wretched house, where there is no door. A torn and worn-out sack is placed at
the doorway, without reinforcement. So it moves to and from with the wind.
During the day, you can only squat in there for a long call if you have no
shame. But, well, that is our Legion Maria. Those are our riches. Perhaps, it
is God, oh!
Back to the
spirit, and why sometimes, doubt may hit your mind.
Now here is
a congregation of Legion Maria members. They have come in their numbers. Majority
seem, at least, honest and right thinking. Or imaginably, brainwashed. They are
called by this harambee spirit, almost everywhere they gather, to spread a
piece of cloth, abola to be precise. Then pay some money as they receive
blessings. Well, who doesn’t want to be blessed.
So, great.
But wait a minute. As soon as the money is given and counted, it is distributed,
all of it, with the spirit, usually the “voice of Baba Messiah”, using the
money to thank his “children” who have done an excellent job during the entire
solemnity.
At Paw
Rombe, what struck me is that some bishops and arch-bishops were left
infuriated. The money shared to them out of the total given did not please
them. Likewise, the share to the priests was too small to mention.
Of course,
the debate is not whether Baba Messiah has authority to do his will or to thank
those he desires. It is just that the question marks are increasing. And a big
chunk of the clergy, quietly dissatisfied. Asking why all the monies cannot be
collected into a bigger, singular cake to do the many things missing in the
church.
Like on
this day, for some, neema iliisha, the grace to continue the solemnity with
singular resolve was lost. As the train of prayer, bogi, left Paw Rombe, they
stayed back a little, disappointed.
So why
would this spirit, Baba or otherwise, not do worthwhile projects. Why would He
seek to collect up to 50,000 here, 30,000 there, and another 6,000 there, then
divide it. Send it literally to people’s bellies when Got Kalafare today still
looks like a deserted traditional African shrine.
There is no
house where Cardinals, archbishops and bishops who have travelled to come
witness the memorial can rest, let alone keep their baggage. The priests must
contend with sheds under trees.
And in the
cold of this year, no wonder several of the faithful who left had to go
straight to hospital, sick. The numbers of the sick post the memorial are there
to tell the story of a church that is 60 years old but still does things like a
toddler, born the other day.
Now, after
the train of prayer left Paw Rombe, some of us remained behind. Why? Because we
heard word that Pontiff Lawrence was coming there ostensibly to bless us.
Unfortunately, after the money had been collected and shared, the train had to
leave soon, this time, without His Peaceful, Lawrence Ochieng Kalul blessing
the faithful there.
Maybe he
was late. Perhaps in the view of the procession in-charges, the time to leave had
come. Maybe he wasn’t supposed to be
there, you never know. Or maybe, just like everywhere, we are a church of the
Holy Spirit, run by the spirit, we don’t care about seniority, protocol, plans,
or programmes—just the voice of the spirit.
As we were
still at Paw Rombe, the entourage of the Pontiff arrived. Weee! Legion Maria
has changed, by a lot. Whereas 10 years ago we were arguing about the use of Akala,
chappals or even tire-made sandals in the hot, sunny and dusty processions,
this time round, shoes got straight into the holiest of places. Shoes, yes. You
heard that right.
A group of
young men, calling themselves the security of the pope, were the shoe bearers.
You see, nobody has problems with shoes. Don’t get this wrong. But this security
team wore boots, the kind of boots you see with these security companies. And to
mimic security elsewhere, they came in outriders—some bodabodas, a senselessly over
speeding car, and hooting. Rome and
Vatican, here we come to learn how you guard your Popes!
Let’s give
it to them. Congratulations for guarding the man of God with valour.
But to our
utter shock and disgust, they did not remove their boots throughout. They never
wore Kanzus. They were in heathen uniforms. And of course, some of them, at
least the ones that were recognizable, were deacons, acolytes and brethren of
our church.
So when His
Peaceful, Baba Mtakatifu Lawrence Kalul alighted from his car, the security
guards surrounded him. As he wore his ecclesiastical garments, they stood guard,
macho!
As he
prayed, squirted Holy Water upon the few faithful left at Paw Rombe, they
stood, walked, and assisted him, in their boots. As he blessed the faithful,
who were kneeling, there were these non-mortals, these angels from heaven,
guarding him, standing, and keenly monitoring the situation—protecting him, and
in their official shoes, the boots.
This is the
new Legion Maria. We need no Jomikael to guard no one. We need no guards in
Kanzus. Our guards must be worldly in every sense, and wear shoes around the Supreme
Pontiff.
After the blessing,
we went to the Home of the Spirit, Ka-Baru. Along the way, we caught up with
the procession that had left us behind. In there, we did our usual greetings of
the various shrines or huts, then went for Mass. Once Mass was done and the
procession left for Got Kalafare, me and some priests went ahead, to shower and
prepare for the august event, the burial of Baba Messiah.
You see,
those are not bathrooms. But you just have to do with them. Men and women,
clergy and lay, brothers and sisters must survive. When in a hurry, as we were,
water was placed for us in the wrecked toilets, and we showered. It doesn’t
matter, so long as you are bathed.
By 3:00
p.m. the priests were gathering at the house of the Father in-charge St. Mary’s
Basilica, Got Kalafare, to vest and prepare for the solemn burial. The choir
too, in their smart, well-ironed cassocks were warming up. The deacons, wow,
the deacons of Legion Maria! Those brethren know how to look clean and smart
for solemn masses. They were splendid. Of course, everybody else did their best—no
mention is no reason to the contrary.
The burial
procession left to Timotheo Atila’s house, next to his shrine, where His
Peaceful, Lawrence Ochieng would be picked, together with his cardinals,
bishops and archbishops. But of course, the priests had to be priests. They did
a procession towards the arena, singing Un Jo-Puglikan gi, un ema usando
Messiah Ruodha. The song and procession stirred the entire Got Kalafare.
The priests’
procession then moved to the location of Baba Mtakatifu, Lawrence Ochieng
Kalul, then with everyone ready, it moved to the location of the symbolic body
of His Most Peaceful, Baba Simeo Melkio Messiah.
We
processed stealthily, in song and concentration. Then once inside, His Peaceful
Lawrence Ochieng blessed the body and did a short prayer, flanked by priests,
bishops, archbishops and cardinals. There were mothers in there too, with
flowers and florals. But something, on this day, was missing. The oil.
Just as
Jesus’s body was prepared with precious, aromatic oils for burial, so is Baba
Messiah’s body. The symbolic body is made of several cloths. The clothes that
He, the Messiah, wore or used while in his earthly tabernacle. Those cloths are
packaged into layers, from the lowest to the topmost. Together, they form a continuous
whole, a singular body, called for the purposes of Kaburi and the memorial of
Baba Messiah as His Real Body.
Now, the
mothers of our church, just like those women who were there at the burial of
Christ or after the Sabbath went to anoint his body, have the privilege of
preparing Baba Messiah’s Body for this burial.
Of course,
this role is played by very senior mothers of the church. They peel off layer
after layer of these cloths and apply expensive, strong smelling, perfumed or
aromatic oil. (Read Luke 7:36-39, a broken, sobbing, unnamed woman anoints
Jesus with oil and tears. Or Mark 16:1, when the sabbath was past, Mary
Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James, and Salome, bought spices, that
they might come and anoint him.)
But on the 14th September 2024, it seems
the arrangement wasn’t made properly. And after Baba Mtakatifu Lawrence Kalul
had done his part and it was the turn of the women to apply expensive anointing
oil, the oil was nowhere.
It was sent for, and for some minutes, the
oil was not arriving. At such moments, quick thinking helps. Even Deepak, the
Indian Lotion for Hair, can do a good job.
As you might know, the spirit likes Deepak
and uses it but hates the other hair lotions and oils. Well, the spirit is
sovereign, we can’t question what He likes or doesn’t like, we just obey.
And so, on this day, somehow, the oil that
was intended was missed. And makeshift oil was applied, to the Glorious Body of
the Lord.
Ikechwa Ruodhwa. Forgive us, O Lord.