Funerals

Before I embarked upon this marvellous ministry of mine, I would have told you that the happy bits would have been found in the planning of weddings and baptisms, with the sad times confined to the planning and delivery of funerals. 

During my House-Move-Sojourn, the thing I missed a lot was delivering funerals. I am something of a fan of the pastime - not because I am morbid, and not because it suits my dark attire. I gain no particular pleasure from witnessing the agonies of the grieving relatives - although at all times it is a treasured privilege to be trusted with it. 

The simple fact, quite unexpectedly, is that in the planning of funerals, I do most of my laughing (in the work arena).

Typically, my means of bring such a service together is to visit the home of the nearest and dearest. The framework of the conversation is set by the need to formulate an order of service, confirm choices of music and 'performers' plus the most important - and often unsaid - thing: that I render the deceased no longer a complete stranger to me. I have to be a sponge for every little anecdote, sentiment (expressed or implied), biographical tidbit. In many ways, I need to get a feel for the person if I am to do justice to their final journey. 

The plain and simple fact is that these meetings are more often than not permeated by much laughter. I have been trying to think why this may be, as I am in all senses very respectful of the family's bereavement at all times. That is to say, I don't walk in and launch into a Stand-Up routine. The laughter comes quite spontaneously, and think it is born of several factors: relief (that the service is now organised), permission (to think about the person who has died without coyness, as that is what I have to ask them to do), the joy born of love (people tend to remember the joyful and the amusing, not the dark and painful), that humans are generally perverse creatures and this is manifest in our testimonials, and most importantly - when we talk about someone who has died (and I mean really talk about them), we re-enliven them. It might be all of those things, or none. 

Once; Only Once, and Once for All

Today, as I painted walls, my Inbox became home to a couple of emails which, very graciously, thanked me for a funeral that I officiated at earlier this week. I never expect such notes, but would be lying if I didn't claim delight in receiving them. It is the same week when I received a very nice card thanking me for a baptism that I performed. Again, it was unexpected, unsolicited and wonderful. 

I am not writing this as a preface to a post where I tell you all that I am good at Occasional Offices. As I ponder ministry in the light of a very imminent move, it strikes me once again the particular privilege of what we hold in our hands for brief moments.

Life is full of uncertainties. How we live, how that life is manifest in the context of disease or misfortune, success or good luck all go to show that there are a few certainties. We will only have one funeral. We will only have one baptism (if that is the route of our lives). In the most hopeful of circumstances, we will only have one marriage. In the life of a Christian, these are events where they will coincide with a priest - who have but one go at getting it right. 

I 'do' many funerals, a fair number of baptisms and a good few weddings. There is a very real danger of letting them all become the same, habit-formed and routine. When one has four funerals in one week, it is hard to make them distinctive and unique, save for the choices of music. Computer technology helps with this, as I have a pallet of liturgical resources which means I enjoy variety and so does the ceremony and its guests. The danger is also in the mindset. I might have a distinct service in my folder, but I could be in easy peril of turning the deceased into 'just another dead person who needs a nice send off'. I hope I have not fallen into this trap in funerals, or its like in weddings or baptisms - but I still have 30 years for that to potentially happen. 

The paths of priests and people criss-cross in funny ways, but when they coincide, we have a profound opportunity to do good. I wonder if it is not the greatest joy of our ministry, that we can take these 'once only' moments and make them special. That is my perspective at least. I believe too that if we miss a trick when these moments come around that we do immeasurable damage to the people monetarily in our care. We may not get to hear about it, quite possibly, but we may have cost them their faith in our faith. 

I think that the greatest successes of my ministry here in Aylesbury has been in these unique moments. They had the potential of being my greatest undoing too, but I hope not this time around. However, I have to be clear to remind myself every once in a while that what I am entrusted with is so precious that it makes gold and diamonds look like hemp sacking. One 'hello', one 'goodbye' - that is what we are granted as humans, and so we as ministers (as I do accept that other ministers as well as priests share this wonderful ministry) must never for a moment take that part of our job for granted, or take it lightly. 

Why I Couldn't Be a Humanist

I have a paper to write on the subject of funerals, so like all diligent writers, obtained some material from other sources in order to make an honest and informed comparison. I bought and paid for the Humanist Association book on 'how to do a funeral', and the title on the cover typifies the very reason why I have something of an issue with them as an organisation:

'Funerals Without God' - it is called. Now, I can accept that some people cannot confess a faith in a deity, and as such I am at peace with that. This title, though, is odd. I am guessing that most Humanists don't believe in Flying Green Elephants or tooth-fairies (one assumes), so a book entitled 'Funerals Without Toothfairies' or 'Funerals Without Flying Green Elephants' would seem equally odd to me.

I took a toddle throught the pages of this noble work, whose strapline is 'A practical guide to humanist and non-religious funeral celebrations' (I am also a little flummoxed as to why 'non-religious' automatically translates into 'humanist' which is, after all, a belief-structure with texts and dogmas, like a religion); anyway ... some quotes for you.

"In circumstances rather less extreme that a climber's death [high up on a Himalayan mountainside] there may be no Humanist officiant conveniently available" (p3) - just us Christians, then, who are available at all times and in all weather

"There is an intimacy about a ceremony that is organised by those immediately involved, which cannot be achieved when it is conducted by an outsider" (p3) - not true, according to the mourners whose loved-ones I have despatched to Heaven

"Perhaps after the success of your 'Do It Yourself' ceremony ... you'll decide to join our ranks" (p4) - join us, the B&Q of funerals - here is your orange apron - anyway, all dignity and class flew away with 'Do It Yourself' ceremony

"Five or six minutes is perhaps the minimum time for a meaningful and dignified ceremony" (p4) - especially if ...

"...on the rare occasions when the relatives are quite unable to come up with any pleasant memories at all, because there was no loved lost between them, or because your subject was clearly a bad-tempered, selfish, unkind or thoroughly unpleasant person!" (p17) - sorry aunty, but you had a beard too, and your kisses were all slobbery. 

"There might be a cross and candles up in front and also prayer or hymn books set out on the pews. These are inappropriate for Humanist ceremonies, as indeed they are out of place for many other funerals. Crematoria are public buildings and do not belong to the churches, so we have a right to ask that the cross be removed by the staff before the ceremony starts" (p13) - welcome to the world where most people don't seek a DIY funeral

"Where there is no cemetary chapel in use ... there are a number of alternatives:

...a church hall ... ...a hotel..." (p14) ...though only the bravest would make those phone calls to book them

 "At the graveside ... if an aeroplane or some other outrageous noise drowns your voice, simply wait until the sound subsides" (p15) - I am wondering where outrageous planes fly too, making their outrageous noise, outrageously [speak up, love, they are 30-odd thousand feet up]

I could carry on. My beef is not  that they are Humanists, but that as Humanists they are not being humanists, but rather an anti-religion lobby. Their agenda seems to be set purely to counter us faithful folk and what we believe in, and even as an expression of atheism, it seems odd. I chose the picture above because it seems to illustrate well what I mean here. As a person with a belief in God, and in the context of that diagram, I would argue that I have faith (and largely no proof) that a white triangle is at the centre of the picture. I claim this because I can see its effects on other things. Humanists would spend all their efforts telling me that there is no triangle and, actually, they will spend all their time devoting effort to telling you not to believe in the triangle that isn't there. If I were an atheist, I think I would be focussed on the things that are there, the circles and the lines. The end result is this: if you have Christians, Humanists and other non-Humanist Society atheists, you would have two of the three groups talking about God. The third is just isn't interested in the subject matter.