Thursday 3 November 2022

Eulogy - Johan Christian Lamprecht and Marie Cornelia Lamprecht

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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