I heard today that Elliot Sonjica's life here on this earth stopped suddenly yesterday. Dreadful Covid-19 claimed another victim. This is devastating and we are heart broken for Dolly and Grace and their families, as well as their Hilton Christian Fellowship family.
We can rest assured that Elliot woke up in the presence of Jesus. For those who die in Christ, death has lost its sting. Death will be like waking up from an afternoon nap with the sun streaming in through your bedroom window. Absent from the body, present with the Lord.
But for those left behind, there are storm clouds of grief that obscure rays of resurrection hope. This grief-hope storm is a God-permitted weather pattern. This too will pass, but we cannot will it to pass. With hope, we must walk slowly through valleys of grief because of the huge gap a man like this leaves in our lives. We grieve exactly because he was a ray of resurrection of hope on this earth, that is now gone.
One of God's common graces in grief is to celebrate a person's life in tribute, as we bless the One who gives and takes away. In the next week, the tributes will pour in, I know, letting Dolly and Grace and their family know of the giant faith legacy of Elliot Bafana Sonjica. I wish to add my voice to the chorus, if I may.
A Shepherd of Joy. Elliot was to me, Umfundisi wenjabulo, a shepherd of joy. The photo above, posted by his daughter Grace, captures that remarkable smile that would light up a room and chase the shadows out the door of any soul. A deep belly laugh was always just below the surface in the man and it didn't take much to get his feet going with his Madiba moves in worship. He had serious rhythm and soul, even though he couldn't sing quite as well as Dolly or Grace! How he managed to do that with our white-boy-worship-music that had so little African groove is a miracle, but he did! Elliot's life reminds me of simpler times. Simpler joys. Not a life of uninterrupted happiness, mind you, but a steadfast trust in His God through every season that produced contagious joy.
A Gentle Giant. Elliot was a big man with a small ego. He was humble to the point of being self-effacing. That is a rare virtue for a man from the proudest most powerful tribe in Sub-Saharan Africa. He always underplayed, and most likely under-estimated, the giant influence he had on so many sons and daughters as a spiritual father.
You need to know that he is something of an urban legend at Southlands, the church I pastor here in Southern California. Over the years we have hosted many conferences where people visit and minister from different nations. During one such conference, Elliot and Dolly were part of the ministry team and were hosted by a family in the area. The strange thing was that this particular family were not actually in the church. Their son had just got radically saved and so he asked his Mom and Dad to host a couple visiting from South Africa. This salt-of-the earth family had always been hospitable, but they had no idea what was about to hit them as Elliot and Dolly arrived on their doorstep. The Sonjica's faith and love made such a dramatic impact on them that by the end of that week the salvation dominoes had begun to topple in remarkable ways. Within weeks of their visit, the Mom and Dad, brother and sister were all saved and added to the church. They still see Elliot and Dolly like a spiritual father and mother to this day. Nobody else I know has made such a deep and lasting impact on our church in such a short space time. And not from behind a pulpit, mind you, just from around a dining room table.
The Boy who Believed. Elliot Bafana Sonica. Bafana in Zulu, means boys, but not in a disrespectful way. In essence, it means, one of the boys! It is the name used for South Africa's national soccer team. I'm still not sure whether this was Elliot's actual middle name or just a nick name. Whatever the case, it stuck, because it was true. He was one of the boys, a man with a noble bearing who had such a common touch. Who could forget the way he wore his jaunty tweed flat cap with such style? But bafana also speaks to me of Elliot's simple, child-like faith. At the end of the day this gentle giant was simply a son of the Father who believed in Jesus with all his heart. I remember a message he once preached at a conference in Bloemfontein on faith and obedience almost twenty years ago. It was so simple, yet unforgettable, because it was spoken from a life of integrity. He believed God and obeyed and was therefore believable.
Amidst so much ugliness on social media, there is the beauty of having a record of your interactions with the people you love and may lose. I went straight to my interactions with Elliot after hearing of his death. The last one was brief, yet affectionate. It was a message saying he hoped to visit us in the USA. It was a visit that sadly never came to pass. He ended with the simple words, 'I love and miss you,' and I believed him. Even his Facebook profile says, "A man with few words and I love my God and my family." The thing about about the man, was that his life, his faith and his few words were just so believable. Perhaps this was Elliot's most precious gift to us. Perhaps this is what God would most want multiplied through his life into ours, in our current faith famine of integrity.
So, Bafana, we salute you as you receive your crown from your King!
Ndabezitha isiZulu!
Hamba kahle, umfowethu!
