Irving Steggles (1945–2020) — Shedding The Robe Of Flesh

“For we know that if the tent that is our earthly home is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. For in this tent we groan, longing to put on our heavenly dwelling, ..” (2 Corinthians 5:1-2, ESV).

Many tributes have been penned down in honour of Pastor Irving Steggles. Those who knew him well have plumbed the depths of his life and given us a glimpse of his character and life worthily lived in the service of His Master. Our hearts have soared to the heights of heaven in gratitude to God for the life of His servant who lived and faithfully laboured among us. What can one say that has not already been said about Pastor Irving? 

When news of his passing into glory rang out from South Africa on April 22, 2020, it didn’t come as a total surprise to me. I last met Pastor Irving on January 18 when I preached in his church after doing a run of conferences in Kwa Zulu Natal province. It was clear then, as it had been the last few years, that his earthly tent was about to be dislodged from the pegs that held it firmly into the ground. It had evidently been battered and bruised, and it was really a matter of how long before a blast of wind could rip through the frail fabric canvas of his life. Even in his frailty, he led the service that Sunday and offered the pastoral prayer, the voice strong and firm, but his feet barely able to support his physical frame. That he had come this far was nothing but an act of God’s grace. 

I first met Pastor Irving in December 2008 in Bulawayo, Zimbabwe. My family had just returned from the USA a few months earlier, and after we had found our feet back home, I was asked if I could help with the preaching at the African Pastors’ Conferences that were being held in various places across Southern and Central Africa. My first assignment was in Bulawayo, Zimbabwe from 8^th to 11^th December. I flew into Bulawayo from Lusaka via Johannesburg, South Africa, and Pastor Irving and the team travelled by road through Botswana. We met that evening during supper and got to know each other. After supper, we spent some time together, and he explained to me what the African Pastors Conferences were all about. Afterwards, we prayed together. He prayed with such passion, energy and intensity, weaving together the petitions to God with words taken from the promises of God in Scripture. His prayer was three times longer than mine. These conferences meant so much to him, and he knew their potential to impact the African continent through the main pastors who would attend them. 

Pastor Irving, Dr. Nakah and me in Bulawayo, 2008

After that conference in Bulawayo, he wrote to me: “Thank you so much for taking the time to prepare and to get alongside the men at the conference. Our great desire is that these men will slowly be weaned out of their dysfunctional ministries, often dysfunctional through ignorance. Please continue to pray that God will point them to the truth, and that sound, good reformed churches will be established through them.” 

And, thus from that time and for the next five years, I took part in two conferences each year across South Africa, Botswana and Zimbabwe, and had the unspeakable privilege and joy of sharing the ministry with Pastor Irving in some of these conferences. I spent several nights in his pristine bachelor’s home and was treated to his typical English hospitality. Our numerous conversations would always be about the gospel, ministry and theology. He had read widely, and I found his knowledge of church history and theology profound and encyclopedic. He rarely talked about himself, unless you asked him a question about something personal. It was in his house that I came across the widest collection of Classical music CDs ever in my life, from performers such as Mozart, Bach, Arion, Franz Liszt and Murray Peharia. As we parted one of the evenings, I picked two CDs from his collection and told him I was going to play them on my laptop before sleeping. He chuckled, and said, “I hope you will like that music. It sure will send you to sleep quicker than you thought.” I told him that if he liked it, I probably would like it, too. “But I am British,” he answered, with wittily humour, “and you are African. I have not come across many Africans that love Classical music.” He was right. The music sent me to sleep before the second track finished on the CD. 

Pastor Irving and I during the Q & A at the APC in Bulawayo

Pastor Irving was a selfless man, who rarely thought about his own comfort first before that of others. He was inflexible and not easily dislodged from his decision about something, even when that was for the good of his health. In 2012, we were taking a long drive from one of the conferences in the Eastern Cape, and he was evidently very tired and was failing to concentrate behind the wheel. I offered to help him drive, and he shot back and told me, “You need more rest than I do. You are the one who has more preaching sessions than I do in these conferences.” And with that, we drove on, without the rest he thought I needed because I had to stay awake, praying that we don’t end up off the road, or perhaps in hospital. 

He was a very humble and godly man. In 2013, we had a misunderstanding, and after much prayer and reflection, I opened up and told him what I felt. I was humbled by his gracious response, in spite of our age difference. He apologised, with a crack in his voice, and we prayed together. What a kind, courteous, gentle, patient, and encouraging man he was. Although sometimes eccentric, you could not fail to see that there was a man who loved the Lord, loved the church and had a heart sold out to missions and the training pastors for the gospel labours in Africa. He has been a model for many of us in faithful service to the Lord, to one’s dying breath. His heart was submerged in the doctrines of grace, and he was an able defender of Reformed Theology. 

One of the lasting legacies of the APC - free and affordable, sound reformed literature

In the last few years of his life, Pastor Irving constantly groaned as his earthly tent was yearning to put on his heavenly dwelling. And that day came. He completed his earthly race, having fought the good fight of faith, and he entered into the joy of his Master. And without doubt, he heard the words we all long to hear: “Well done, good and faithful servant.” Praise be to God for His grace in gifting the church with such a servant as Pastor Irving!

“I am Here For Legacy” – Lessons from Luka Mwango and his Extraordinary Talent

On Monday morning, September 17, 2018, Social Media was awash with the sad news of the passing on of a talented Zambian prolific poet, spoken word performer, novelist and budding screenplay writer, Luka Mwango. I met the young man in person only twice. The first time was when we had invited students from the University of Zambia to our house for an Christian evangelistic movie in 2015. The second time was at UNZA Chapel in 2016. I can’t remember the exact event, but my aging mind thinks it was a musical concert, and Luka had set up a table outside the chapel which was stacked with his two publications, Twisted and Perdition. 

When the concert was done, and we were trooping out of the chapel, I stopped by the table. He looked up at me with his characteristic incandescent smile. And with a persuasiveness that would make any salesman glee with envy, he convinced me to buy his book, Perdition. He didn’t persuade me to buy because he needed to make some profit over his literary works, but he told me he would feel encouraged when Zambians began to read their own authors and take pride in them. As an avid reader and patriotic Zambian, I didn’t need that much persuasion to fork out my money for this book. We talked briefly, and I was immediately struck by his intelligence, knowledge and excellent command of the English language. 

And so, when I heard about his death, my mind raced back to the only two meetings we had, and my heart sunk with grief. What a gifted young man he was, and plucked away from us before we saw the best from him. As I reflect on his life, a life that I hardly knew well enough except through social media, I am intrigued at what an enigma he was, and how influential he was among the young people. My daughter knows so much about him, and so do several of her friends, and their hearts are grieving. Which young people will easily forget his poem, Dear Future Wife? He must have been in fourth grade in 2001 when my wife left Nchanga Trust School in Chingola as we relocated to Kitwe.

I am reminded of the short life of Keith Green, who died three months shy of his 29^thbirthday. Energetic, ferocious, fiery, passionate, vibrant, gifted – all these adjectives describe Keith and Luka, too. I never watched him perform his poetry live on stage, but I have watched a few of his videos, and they are breathtaking. One blogger describes him in these words (click here): “Passionate, provokingly sentimental, with a grueling self-abandonment that teleports him and the audience to the scenery of his poems.” And such passion came naturally to him, because, as he often said, “I know pain. I’ve lived at her home and we shared a life together, so communicating that pain, whether mine or someone else’s, comes easy to me.”

Luka, seated on the right right side, in a pink shirt and jeans at our house in 2015.

Luka is gone, taken away from us at such a tender age. And we will grieve for him, and our grief will be fruitless and empty if we do not pause and learn lessons from his life and form the artistry of this young man. That is the reason for my blogging about him. So, what do we learn from him? 

1. He was very passionate about what he did 

If there is one word which defined Luka, it was passion – vigorous, exuberant passion. He loved what he did, and aimed at getting better and better at it. He was a ruthless workaholic, who almost worked himself death in order to come out with the best that his brilliant mind could conceive and his talent deliver. He was not content to settle for second best, when he knew he was capable of doing the best. 

One of the senior law students at UNZA, Kasewe Banda, who was a schoolmate to Luka recalls being punished by a prefect at Mpelembe Secondary School when he was in grade 9. He was told to go and clean the Head Boy’s room. That Head Boy was Luka. When he was busy cleaning the room, he noticed several Sobi exercise books, with various writings in them. They struck a conversation about that, and Luka told him that what was in the exercise books were short stories he had been writing, and that it was his dream one day to become an author. That passion never died.    

2. He wrestled with the philosophical issues of life in search for answers     

Luka had a probing mind. An intellect that wrestled with the metaphysical questions of life. That is very common in young people who are searching for meaning in life. Keith Green went through such a struggle. Some of Luka’s poems show this characteristic. For example, the poem, Does God Exist, is a highly intellectualized piece that uses deep imagery, paradox and complicated thought to deal with metaphysical questions. The poem is not just intended to mesmerise you with large doses of wit, rhymes and humour, but to cause you to think about the existence of God and how to perceive the world around you. Sadly, so many of our young people today spend hardly a moment to deal with such enormous, life-altering questions. Hear the words in that poem: 

            Does the sorcery of our lungs have enough magic to give breath to dust?

Can we create anything in our own image, 

When we hate our own image? 

We have been trying to kill God,

Ever since the Adam of our brain,

And the Eve of our heart,

Decided to live in the Eden of our ego. 

These are crucial questions you must deal with. I don’t need to remind you that time is short, far shorter than you think. Moses said our lives are “like grass that is renewed in the morning [and] in the evening it fades and withers” (Psalm 90:5-6). It’s too short to waste it in empty living. May you have a heart that has learned the lesson that life is not about how much you earn, achieve, or experience in your few days on earth; life is wholeheartedly trusting the Life (John 14:6). To fear God is to live under the force of the existential reality of God and to know that the only thing that wastes life is unbelief.

3. He loved Zambia and was not shy to declare that to the world  

At a time when there is not much to be proud of as a Zambian, when our economy is shaky and our political leaders are less than inspiring, Luka loved the country of his birth. Early this year, he posted this on social media: “I don't wanna succeed in any other country apart from Zambia. Because it's not just about my shine, but giving hope to these kids coming after us that you can achieve your dreams in Zambia like anywhere else.” When you read through his posts on social media, you see a young man who was proud to be Zambian and was looking forward to a better Zambia. 

4. He used his artistic talent to speak about his faith, though we wish he could have done more  

Speaking to some of his friends who know him better than I do, they confidently speak of his faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. Luka regularly attended Lusaka Baptist Church. Some of his friends had incessant conversations with him about taking the Christian faith seriously and identifying himself with a particular local church and seek membership. One such close friend was Lennox Kalifungwa, who once corroborated with Luka on a song entitled Breath. He was keen to do so, but that time never came.   

When asked direct questions about his faith, he immediately responded with confident answers. In an interview with Butali House, he was asked this question: Have you ever read something that made you change the way you looked at life and yourself? Without hesitation, he said, “The Bible” (click here). He believed that the historical Christianity is true and that the bible is the infallible word of God. And apart from the intellectual or emotional deduction to that truth he strove to show how it played itself out in the social context. How many of you young people, even older people consider social media as your mission field, and use every opportunity to spread the gospel? 

In February this year, to rebuke those who use the hypocrisy of Christians as their reason for not taking religion seriously, he posted these words on Facebook: “It’s like the assurance some nonbelievers have in the non-existence of God is in the hypocrisy of some Christians, and are hellbent on exposing that and in neglecting the ones that actually walk the talk ... but our assurance of faith should never be in the goodness, hypocrisy or what not of man (believer or not), but in God himself and His word.” 

The closest I have heard him come to sharing something akin to his testimony is in a poem Second Chances. If we take this as something more than a poem, but an unburdening of his heart after a tragically failed romantic relationship, then what he says is very revealing.  

            From lovers to friends, to enemies,

            How I spent sleepless nights to try and edge crawl the memory 

 of you from my brain.

 And how I was stuck in limbo,

 For I couldn’t decide whether to miss you or forget you… 

 But you see, Christ, Christ, Christ ignited a flame 

 Inside of my heart called salvation. 

And the Holy Spirit tutored me, 

And the men of God discipled me.

And the closer I got to God,

The more I wished life had a rewind button,

So that I could go back in time,

And wash away the stains from that blood spot we called a relationship. 

That’s deep. And as if responding to the shame and pain of his past life, he encourages people with these words on social media: “Be kind to your wounds, respect your scars. But don't fall in love with them. They are a reference not an identity. Stop calling yourself by your pain, respond only to your healing.” Did the Lord Jesus Christ wash away those stains and heal those wounds that sin had inflicted on him? I want to believe so, as eternity will eventually reveal. 

On May 27^th, this year, He asked a question on Facebook which he proceeded to answer: "What is legacy? It’s love! It’s hope! It’s faith! Above all, it’s winning so others can win through you, win by you and win with you. I’m here for legacy." 

Yes, Luka, you have left us with an illustrious and indelible legacy. Your works will outlive you.  

Ray Munsaka - A Saintly Servant of the Lord

Many things I am and so happy to be: Husband, father, employer, employee, Uncle, in-law, friend, Zambian and etc. But none can match this one thing: I am a child of the Almighty King! I am twenty seven years in Him today! Yes, twenty seven years ago on this day,
Jesus found me, washed all my sins away. 

(Ray Munsaka, on Facebook, February 13, 2014)

God is sovereign. Yes He is. This is the truth, more than any other, which comforts our hearts. And yet, in our humanness, we must admit that there are seasons in our lives when it is not EASY to believe that our sovereign God is faithful. When our faith is sorely tried, our eyes bedimmed with tears, and we struggle to trace the outworkings of His love, God’s sweet and still small voice begins to grow faint. That voice which is always there, becomes barely audible.

The death of a cherished brother and friend, RAY MUNSAKA, has come like a deep stab to the hearts of many. It was early morning in Zambia, Saturday, April 12th, 2014 when my wife Shupe phoned me and told me that Ray had gone to be with the Lord. The previous day, he had been involved in a road traffic accident on the dreadful Chingola - Kitwe road. He was admitted to the Nchanga South Hospital in the ICU. My hope and prayer, like many other brethren, was that the Lord might spare the life of our brother and give him back to us well again. Sadly, It was not to be. 

Being on the other side of the globe, (I am writing this from the USA), it was just before midnight when the call of Ray's homegoing came from Shupe. I felt numb. So suddenly, so unexpectedly, our brother was gone. Sleep eluded me, tears just continued to stream down my face. I groaned all night, struggling to make sense of what had happened. The pain of this tragedy just overwhelmed me in this distant, foreign land. Yes, I have no doubt he has gone to a better place. He is no more to experience the frowns and aches of this world, but in my heart, my raw emotions cry for his presence still – my mind struggles to deal with the reality of this loss – gone so early and so soon.

Ray and I, with tongue in cheek, referred to ourselves as Reformed Baptists untimely born. Our pedigree, as some of our not too amused peers observed, could not be traced to any of the reformed powerhouses of our country. We were like a root out of dry ground. “Could anything good come out of Nazareth?” Some may have enquired. Yes, from our Nazareths, by God’s grace we sprung up, loving and cherishing the doctrines of grace that shaped our worldview and tremendously strengthened our faith, sharing a kindred spirit.

It didn’t take long from the time we met 17 years ago for our hearts to be knit together with strong bonds of brotherly love, thanks in part to my wife who was already good friends with Ray and Martha from their UNZA days. Over the last 17 years, our friendship had not only blossomed between the two of us, but between our wives as well. Visits into each other's homes were many and lovely. Our bedrooms were not sacred and restricted places we kept away from each other, and so were our hearts. To be in Ray’s company was always a delight; a memorable occasion. There was never a dull moment between us. The laughter, the theological musings, football, marriage, parenting, etc. What is it that we never talked about? I must confess though, that sometimes I felt envious of my brother whenever we were together. Ray was a very handsome man, and it was not difficult for people to second-guess who between the two of us deserved a second, third, and fourth look. So I seemed to be always in his shadows, eclipsed by his presence. Strangely, he was hardly, if at all, ever conscious of his fair physical appearance.

There is so much I can say about Ray, but let me just share with you my few and fond memories of this beloved brother and friend.

1. His Intellectual Capacity

Ray was a very intelligent person. He had an awesome brain, great learning, and wisdom. This was God's acknowledged gift to him. He thought analytically and logically about issues, and applied his mind fully to solving any complex situations. I have met few men with Ray’s brains. 

And that intelligence was used to God’s glory as he pored over God’s word for many hours to seek to understand it before he could stand before God’s people to teach or preach. He was painstakingly detailed, and studied God’s word with the precision that people in his profession are known for. I remember him a few years ago, posting a picture on Facebook, smartly dressed in a jacket and tie. Underneath the picture was the caption: "In the study, dressed up for preaching. Better preach undressed than unprepared." That was not just meant to be humorous, that's how he applied his heart and mind to the task of preaching. Did you know that Ray could write, read and speak German fluently? An intellect indeed.  

2. His Thriftiness and Innovativeness

These two characteristics also attest to Ray’s mental sharpness. He used the available resources carefully, not wanting to waste anything at all. Like the Saviour he loved, who instructed His disciples to “gather up the leftover fragments, that nothing may be lost” (John 6:12), Ray, using his engineering mind never discarded anything. His philosophy was, “nothing is ever useless…its usefulness might not be apparent today, but it will sure be useful one day.” The garage at his house is full of stuff that many of us would have gotten rid of years back, but not Ray. His inventive mind was always devising ways by which “the stone which the builders rejected could become the cornerstone.” And we saw much of what might be called junk, with time, becoming useful. Some people may not know that much of the plumbing works and other fittings in their new house, were not done by a hired craftsman, but by the skillful hands of Ray. When he talked about certain ideas, they seemed so lofty to some of us, and our little faith could not see any life in those ideas, to our shame. What that mind  dreamed of, and came to be, can only be described as the work of a genius. Money was saved by putting his mind to good use. He contributed his fair share in fulfilling the cultural mandate to subdue the earth.

3. His Culinary Taste and Abilities 

Ray was a great cook! I must admit that he always made me feel ashamed of my own ineptitude in this area. With an apron hanging around his neck and draped over his chest, he would from time to time break a conversation while we sat in the living room, and dash into the kitchen to check on what he was cooking. When the food was finally served, it was of the finger-licking, tongue-biting quality. Sheer brilliance from a man who had recently declared himself a vegetarian!!! 

4. His Humble and Saintly Spirit

If you thought of engineers as people who knew very little about human interaction, you are wrong, well at least with regard to Ray. He was not an icy cold, typical engineer, sure of himself, with very little or no relational skills. Ray knew what it meant to be a Christian and to be human and to care about people. He was endlessly patient, courteous and gentle. A great encourager, always overflowing with goodwill. 

When I was leaving Central Baptist Church in Chingola to take up the pastorate of Trinity Baptist Church in Kitwe in 2001, Ray was moving in the opposite direction. He was leaving Kitwe for Chingola to take up a new job, and he and his family quickly settled at Central Baptist Church. In no time, he won the confidence of the elders and the church and was elected into the eldership.

A loving husband, a godly father, a humble servant of Christ, a mentor – and he fulfilled all these roles with excellence and a saintly spirit. One day, a few years ago, from the blues, Ray shared with me that he was thinking of stepping down from the eldership because he felt he was inadequate for this lofty office. I was shell-shocked. Here was man so gifted and fitted for the office and yet thinking so little of himself. What self-effacing humility!! Unpretentious, he always had his eye focused upon one thing - the glory of God.

He was a magnanimous individual. He was a Manchester United fan, and I am an Arsenal supporter. At not time did he make me or any one who did not support his team uncomfortable. He was gracious and inoffensive in everything he said and did. Those who followed his posts on Facebook know how he combined seriousness with lightheartedness in all his posts. Being a humorous person that he was, he never was frivolous, nor did he say anything with an appearance of evil in the use of social media.   

In September last year, Ray and Martha came to see us in Lusaka. There was something they wanted to discuss with us. That night we went to bed way after midnight. Ray had struggled for a while over his sense of call to the gospel ministry. That night, as we talked, it was clear that he and his wife had now overcome their struggles, and were ready to launch into the deep and serve the Lord. I had no doubt in my mind, what an excellent pastor Ray was going to be; and what a suitable helpmeet Martha was going to be as she supported her husband in the ministry when that time came. But the Lord knew better, my cherished dreams of my dear friend serving with me in this calling was not to be. The body of Christ was not to be blessed with the pastoral ministry of this saintly man of God.

Martha, Munanga, Daniel and Khumbo. I may not be with you in person to share in your grief and pain. I write from a distant land, but please know that my heart is with you, and my prayers are being lifted up to the Father above on your behalf. The God who has taken away your husband and Father, is the sovereign God of the universe, and He will walk with you through the valleys that lie ahead. May He cause you to realize that even behind a frowning providence, somewhere and somehow, He has hidden a smiling face.

As we mourn our brother’s home call, this one thing is certain - that our loss is his infinite gain. He rests in the glorious company of the Lord he loved and faithfully served. Ours is to cheerfully submit to the Divine Will, and express our deepest gratitude to God for His goodness to the Church in Zambia in giving to us such a dear brother. We rejoice that his Christian life was hallowed and made sweet and precious to our hearts in the various relations which he sustained to many of us. 
 

Let me end with a quote from Ray himself in his Facebook post of February 11^th, 2014:

If one dies in his prime, we tend to say, 

“He died before he achieved his purpose, 

Death cut him before he reached his high.”

But for Jesus Christ, the Son of God, nay, 

It was by death He achieved His purpose,

For He was born so He could die,

The manger was there for the cross,

And Golgotha can never be a loss,

By dying He cleansed our dross,

So sin should not be our boss.