Olafur Eliasson The Weather Project 2003 |
A eulogy given at the Memorial Service for Johan Christian Lamprecht (05/01/1942-14/09/2021) and Marie Cornelia Lamprecht (06/12/1941-31/01/2020) held at St Stephen Walbrook at 3pm on Thursday 3rd November 2022 A recording of the service is at this link.
I’ve been asked to say a few words about Johan and Marie, whom I
have had the privilege of knowing as Henry’s partner and Carina’s brother in
law, for the best part of twenty years.
Those who knew him well won’t be at all surprised to learn that Johan’s preferred
method of communicating with me was through the medium of song. Usually nursery
rhymes or well-known folk tunes – the sort of ditty’s that crossed the
continental and language divide – but with lyrics he had composed himself. None
of which are at all appropriate to repeat in church!
My first communication with Marie however was by letter – long
before we had met in person and before the technology allowed face to face
communication in an instant as it does today (welcome to everyone joining us on
zoom!) Marie and I corresponded for as long as she was able to write with ease
and until the South African Postal Service was able to convey our letters to
each other. I think Marie was more resilient than the postal service, as it turned
out.
In these letters filled with tales of everyday life and – frankly
some pretty bizarre - family stories, I got a sense of Marie and Johan’s
character – their Spirit – the values which they held dear and which, when I
eventually met them in person, I discovered that they lived by.
In St Paul’s letter to the church in Corinth, from which Henry read
an extract, Paul describes Christ as the first fruits of the new creation.
Elsewhere he describes other ‘fruits of the Spirit’ we have received.
One of these is generosity – or charity. A virtue which springs instantly to
mind when I think of Marie. When I first met her, she had not only prepared a
wonderful welcome meal but was simultaneously in the process of baking
thousands of tiny biscuits for yet another church bazaar. Beautifully formed
piped creations, topped with a pristine slice of glace cherry (how did she
manage to slice those sticky things so perfectly?!) Tiny meringues were another
speciality – more on the wonder of meringues later! Whenever anyone would come
to visit London we would be presented with a large ice cream tub full of these
delicacies!
In the gospel reading that Ben read for us, we hear that God has a house with
many rooms – one prepared for each of us. Johan and Marie’s house in Witbank
was rather similar! Room after room filled with ovens, hot plates, electric
blankets – anything and everything needed to assist in the task of offering generous
hospitality to their friends and family.
Marie – and Johan – generously welcomed me into their family. Eventually
calling me their ‘second son’. Stories of our time together would soon be placed
in the great canon of family fables, alongside those from Nuwevlei – the farm in
the Northern Cape full of colourful characters where Marie grew up.
In recent years, Henry and Carina were able to repay some of this generosity,
treating Marie to the most wonderful trips around the world. I have not
undertaken an exhaustive survey but I would be willing to wager that we have
visited nearly every site in Europe where Marie’s beloved André Rieu recorded a
DVD! We certainly got a good work out, lifting her wheelchair over the bridges
of Venice – and climbing up the mountaintop castles of the Black Forest. The
internet is full of terrabytes of photographs of the family posing in front of
fountains across the world; mimicking the bizarre poses of each statue as best
we could!
Meringues were a feature of her last visit to Europe. Despite finding it hard
to chew and swallow by this time, it remains a continuing source of wonder to
me that Marie was able to devour a ginormous meringue in a café in Paris that
was the size of a baby vlakvark!
The virtue that springs to mind instantly when I think of Johan is
patience. I do not think I have ever met such a patient man.
Johan loved his work. Marie might want me to say “too much” at this point! He worked hard well into his seventies before retiring as an engineer – helping to build and maintain power stations all over South Africa – not a quick endeavour – a task that requires a great deal of patience – particularly in terms of dealing with the large and diverse team of people needed to plan and deliver them. I’m sure it’s no coincidence that load-shedding started after Johan retired! His mastery of a number of Africa’s many languages certainly proved helpful at work – as it did on a number of occasions in later life when a few choice words in Xhosa, Zulu or Swahili managed to get us out of more than a few sticky situations!
Johan was never more happy than when taking us on a detour to show
us one of the power stations he had worked on - these great cathedrals of
power, that dominate the South African landscape.
Johan’s patience was also expressed in his loving care of Marie, as her health
deteriorated over many years. I do not ever think we will truly know the extent
of the support he gave her and for which she became increasingly dependent.
Following her death, Henry and I were fortunate enough to be able to spend
three months staying with Johan in his new home in Johannesburg, close to
Carina’s house. We bought him a new car – not the powerful 4x4 he wanted, that
he had seen on his favourite TV programme – Top Gear – but something similar.
On our many journeys in this car – across the mountains, deserts and and
streams of South Africa, Johan encouraged us to model the virtue of patience.
You see, in later years (after he left his Alfa Romeo Spider days behind) he
was not the fastest driver!
He certainly had a knack for making the great expanses of the South
African landscape seem – well - rather more great.
He was always keen to take time to explore the views out of the
window as he chugged along – even if this meant getting dangerously close to
the edge of a mountain track.
My journeys with Johan remain permanently etched in my memory – not just
because they provided him with a captive audience for the latest opus in his
canon of funny songs.
I remember once on a – very long – road trip from Winklespruit to Johannesburg,
gazing wistfully out at the beautiful landscape when I saw a tyre bouncing –
almost in slow motion – across the mielie field. A few seconds later we all
realised it was one of the tyres of our car!
Johan was a great fan of Carry on Films and on more than one occasion our life
together as a family seemed to imitate one or more of them – almost to a tee!
I’ll leave you to guess which character was which!
St Paul reminds us that these fruits of the spirit – generosity, patience,
kindness, gentleness – are nothing without the greatest gift – of love.
Something Johan and Marie shared in abundance. They doted on their children,
Henry and Carina and their ‘adopted’ children like me of whom they were so
proud. They loved every member of their family – and would do anything for
them. They also loved God. Perhaps Marie more openly than Johan – but Johan was
certainly a man of faith. He knew that death has no sting. He did not fear it.
The Good News of the Gospel is that the final journey we take on earth is not the end of the story but the beginning of a new chapter. Our “Journey with Johan and Marie” will continue. There is a new heaven and a new earth into which we are called. A new creation. A house with many rooms - and I’m sure - more than a few stoops. I’m certain that Marie and Johan are sitting together on their stoop now with their beloved dogs. Having some tea, rusks – the fruit they enjoyed so much – and of course the odd meringue, swilled down with the occasional glass of Hanepoot. Getting up now and again to dance to some André Rieu or some Boeremusiek.
And until we join them, the best way we can give thanks for their life is to share the gifts – these fruits of the Spirit – that they gave us. They’d want us to be fruity!
Amen.
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