David Zopoula

A Wonderful Man, Good Friend and Much-Loved Leader—Born 1958; lost to eternity 8 March 2009

A star which shone and burned brightly in our universe; a much loved husband to Monique, father to their five children and to many nieces and nephews; a greatly valued leader and spiritual father to the Assemblée Evangelique de Pentecost (Evangelical Assembly of Pentecost) and a good and faithful friend to many, many people, including myself.

His was the smile and laughter and twinkle-in-the-eye that brought joy to our hearts. His was the word of encouragement and exhortation that inspired and directed our hearts. His was a look that brought peace to our hearts.

When I landed at Ougadougou airport, there was one thing that I wanted to see: the face and the smile of my friend, David Zopoula. I explained once, to another friend, my basic 'post-modern' approach to travelling within Burkina: I needed only one thing — to be in relationship with David. If that was in place, I had no need for satellite navigation equipment to know where on earth I was, nor a map to direct me to where I needed to be, nor letters of introduction addressed to people I needed to meet. I simply needed to join up with David and everything else would flow from that. We would journey together and, one way or another, we’d arrive at the places and meet the people we needed to meet. 

I believe many of us actually felt that way, not simply with respect to travel, but actually in respect to life. If we were joined with David, there was a sense we were travelling the right way and everything and anything could be faced without excessive fear or anxiety. He inspired that kind of confidence. Not because of exceptional charisma, though he had that too. But because he had the gravitas and authority of experience. He calmed our fears. He voiced our hopes. He led the way.

David was an exceptional leader.  This is what I wrote about him, in providing a testimonial, last November, to Bakke University, where David was applying to undertake a doctorate program:

“In his role as a team, ministry and now denominational leader, David demonstrates an exceptional ability to see the potential of others and (to) delegate, encourage, lead, direct, motivate, challenge or provoke them into action. This is perhaps his most major strength and the reason why he is becoming a nationally recognised leader...

David is someone who continually makes himself available, is personable, open, receptive, hospitable, challenging, provocative and... good fun to be with. He inclusively lowers the divisive barriers that others sometimes erect, such as those between people of difference race, colour, dogmatic persuasion, economic power and depth of passion.”

Thus, David’s passing leaves a huge, irreplaceable hole in our hearts and in our lives.

But when I look at his face in the photographs I have, I am reminded of his presence, his spirit, his heart. This quotation from a Carmelite Monastry in Waterford, Ireland, represents the voice of treasured friend who has passed away:

“Death is nothing at all – I have slipped away into the next room. 

Whatever we were to each other that we are still. Call me by own familiar name. Speak to me in the easy way, which you always used. Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes we enjoyed together. Play, smile, think of me, pray for me. Let it be spoken without effort. 

Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same as it ever was; there is absolutely unbroken continuity. Why should I be out of your mind because I am out of your sight? I am but waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near just around the corner. 

All is well. Nothing is past; nothing is lost. One brief moment and all will be as it was before – only better, infinitely happier and forever.” 

Because David was a passionate man, we knew his heart well. We knew what he stood for, his values, his convictions.  And we knew it too from his actions and from the friends and people to whom he introduced us. He was the fulcrum of so many relationship and hopes for the future. 

What David represented hasn’t changed. Though his body has been buried, his spirit lives on in us, those he discipled and fathered and lead and associated with. And I feel that his spirit is breathing over us still, encouraging us to stand as he stood: for the Lord and his purposes and his people; against wickedness and the spiritual powers of darkness.

David encountered tragedy in the activity for which he lived his whole life: the priestly work of announcing and living out faithfully the Good News of Jesus, the Messiah. In this way, he sacrificed his life. I have no doubt, he brought great pleasure to the heart of his Lord, for his faithfulness to the work he was given to do.

That work must continue. What David begun, the example he set, in dedicating himself to establishing missional, discipleship communities of Christ, throughout Burkina and ready to spread out into other nations, as the Spirit opened a door, that work must continue. That is what he would say.

For now, we must grieve, for we have lost the best of men and the best of friends. Tragedy has been visited upon us, in our humanness and our weakness. But in the Spirit, there is joy over the life of one who lived out his life in the light of the face of the Messiah and, accordingly, sacrificed his life daily as an act of living worship. 

He is not dead. He is asleep.

— John Clements