René Frédéric Faye

It was one of those moments. A day forever etched in my memory. Seems as though it was yesterday…despite the fact today marks fifteen years since we received the call.

 It had been a long day. Easter Sunday, in fact. Many guests had been in our home that day and as dusk was falling, the final guests were departing. Then the phone rang. I remember my dad summoning the family together. That became the day I heard René Frédéric Faye had been ushered into eternity.

Far more than a friend, he was my big brother. Before my first moments of life were engrained into memory, René and his twin brother Germain were in my life. From hours of watching African Cup drama, to football matches in Saint Louis’ sandy streets, to educating my brother and I in the finer points of “l’élevage” (animal husbandry), these two were family. More importantly, Germain and René gave my young life living examples of the verse, "Seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you." (Matthew 6:33)

But death first divided our family in 1994 when God called Germain home at the age of twenty-four. Stricken with a brain tumor, having lost his eyesight, hearing, taste, and smell, Germain lay in his death bed praising God for His love and the hope to come. Finally, on April 7, 1994, my brother Ger was freed from his pain-wracked body. René, having entered the Senegalese military the year prior (the two were to have entered together, but Ger’s brain tumor prevented him from enlisting) was summoned off to Rwanda as a UN peacekeeper following the Rwandan Genocide between the Tutsis and Hutus. As I bid my dear friend "au revoir", never did I expect the next time I would see his face would be in a wooden coffin in our living room.

But God had other plans. On April 15, 1995, a transport truck carrying fifty people through a mountain pass lost grip, causing one wheel to slip from the mountain, nearly sending the entire truck over the precipice to the probable death of all passengers. René, however, jumped out the back and attempted to stabilize the truck. In the process, he fell under its weight acting as a wheel stop, which consequently crushed René’s body but stopped the truck and spared the lives of all therein. As Jesus said, "Greater love has no man than this. That he lay down his life for his friends." (John 15:13)

A fitting death for a life lived sacrificing on behalf of others. 
Yet the words of Jesus echo loudly, "Listen carefully: Unless a grain of wheat is buried in the ground, dead to the world, it is never any more than a grain of wheat. But if it is buried, it sprouts and reproduces itself many times over. In the same way, anyone who holds on to life just as it is, destroys that life. But if you let it go, reckless in your love, you'll have it forever, real and eternal.” (John 12:24-26) Fifteen years later, these words have only picked up momentum.

René lived his life for eternity, not merely for time. Through his death, others saw his real “treasure.” Not life, but rather, His relationship with Jesus Christ. René’s life demonstrated the reality of “For to me, to live is Christ, to die is gain.” (Philippians 1:21) His life was a tool to show this world God’s love, forgiveness, and grace. René’s death demonstrated his hope.

The days which followed remain a blur. Our home was turned into a house of mourning, our living room---the morgue, our courtyard---the chapel, and a constant bustle of bodies, military personnel, and UN officials moved about. Amidst the chaos, two of my brother’s possessions were slipped to me. Two articles signifying the reality of death, yet the hope of eternal life. The first token was the Air Afrique luggage tag attached to René’s body bag as they shipped his corpse back to Senegal one last time. The second was René’s New Testament which he was carrying as he passed into the presence of His God. Two symbols. Symbols to remind me that "It is appointed to man once to die and then the judgment." (Hebrews 9:27) Life is uncertain. Death is sure. 

Still today, I pick up that French New Testament, and flipping through its worn pages, my eyes fall on one of Ger and René’s favorite verses, and appropriately, the verse etched on their gravestone. "Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus." (Romans 8:1)

Fifteen years later, his testimony of love lives on. As said of Abel, I can say of René, "though he is dead, he still speaks." (Hebrews 11:4)

I love you brother!

(Dedicated to my bro, Luke McIntosh)