Thursday, May 06, 2010

In Life, In Death, In Life Beyond Death...


I sometimes joke about the "hatch, match, and dispatch" aspect of a minister's job, the ceremonies which punctuate our community life. I certainly don't go looking for the dispatch or funeral part of my work, but it tends to come looking for me.

I knew when I was away that I was returning to a memorial service on Tuesday and the commital service yesterday for the ashes of a man who died back in February. The little cemetery where he was buried just opened after the Winter. Things got hectic when another member died on Monday and the family wanted the service yesterday in the morning. In less than 24 hours I travelled down the 401 to Port Hope for the first service on Tuesday afternoon, then did the funeral and commital on Wednesday morning. The funeral director yesterday drove me from Orono cemetery to Hampton cemetery so I could fit everything in.

I suppose it is all fitting because our resurrection faith began in a cemetery on Easter morning. What struck me again today is that I would never want to become so accustomed to this part of my job that it was just part of my job, if you get my drift. I want to be a companion with people on their journey through "the valley of the shadow" and I want to affirm abundant and eternal life in Christ. All three families approached these services with a sense of affection and respect for their loved ones.

Do you find death scary? How well do you deal with funerals? Do you find the services help with your grief, or would you just as soon avoid them?

9 comments:

IanD said...

Death sucks. Period.

Funerals, on the other hand, are often ultimately uplifting experiences for me because, when all is said and done, you are able to turn from the one loved and lost to those that remain. They are, invariably, there to support you in the time to follow.

I spoke recently with a family friend who related how in awe she was at a recent family funeral of just how many people came to pay their respects, and at how long they stayed. She told me that in the midst of her grief, these people helped to "reaffirm (her) faith in humanity."

We need funerals, I'd say.

Laurie said...

I agree with Ian. Death sucks, but we need Funerals.

Deborah Laforet said...

It actually scares me that more and more people are doing without funerals for loved ones. I wonder how they are able to release their grief and how other friends and family can gather during this time of mourning. I know there are others ways to do this besides funerals, but I don't believe those other ways are being used. I think most people need some kind of ritual to name the end of of someone's life and to gather with others for whom this death also means something, to mourn death and celebrate life.

David Mundy said...

I don't know what's worse,Deb, the non-funeral or the funeral travesty. Some of them these days are incredibly disrespectful to the deceased and should be embarrassing to the family.

Ian and Laurie, I'm fascinated by the "death sucks" comments (I agree) because while in Halifax I was asked to go to a group home for mentally challenged adults to explain to them the sudden death of resident Danny. I knew them all fairly well,including Danny, because two came to my church and Ruth was a staff member at the home.

I tried to be gentle and direct, but at the end another resident, Julia, let out a wail, pounded her fists on her legs and yelled "death sucks!"

Laura said...

I am reminded of a comment a person in the funeral business said to me after the unexpected and sudden death of one of my kids teachers. Not sure whether we should take these "naive" 7 year olds to to the funeral home where it was an open casket, we were bluntly told by a staff member..that if we (parents) were "cool" with "it" (death of a young Mom) our kids would be fine. I was quite taken back with the choice of words at the time, but believe the essence wise. As a person whose emotions sit fairly close to the surface, I don't know that I will ever be cool and unflappable around death, but I realized I couldn't protect my kids from it, so becoming more comfortable, if not cool, was probably a good life skill.
I have noticed a number of articles of late of alternative funeral arrangements, and have just met a young funeral director, who refers to herself as an alternative funeral director. She didn't grow up in any faith but found herself comforted by the church based traditions at the end of life so set out to fill that niche for those without church affiliation.
I agree...these rituals are needed.
I am reading a beautifully written novel which really is about grieving (not my normal genre..in fact usually avoid heartwrenching books and movies but this came highly recommended) called Come Sunday...haven't quite finished but surprisingly enjoyable and insightful.

Lynnof60 said...

I certainly feel I can weigh in on this topic. For one, we were involved in the funeral in Port Hope for my step father, a wonderful, 92 year old (who had been in our lives for 30 years) How happy (and surprised) he would have been at the number of people who turned out to pay their final respects to the family. It was a beautiful, meaningful service. Andy had touched so many lives and we got to talk to those people. We were blessed.
On the other hand, my brother, passed away last year and, at his request, their was 'nothing'! Would the reason for that decision be that they would be afraid no one would come? What a shame. So many people wanted to gather to share memories. And that is what the funeral is for.
Re being afraid of death. As a hospice volunteer and just living past my 'mid-life' I have attended the final journey of many. Although I don't 'welcome' it, I don't 'fear' it. There have been some wonderful experiences that cement my belief that there is something on the 'other side'.
I would like to share this poem that Maria Shriver gave at the funeral of journalist Tim Russert. I love this....
I stood watching as the little ship sailed out to sea.
The setting sun tinted its white sails with a golden light.
And as it disappeared from view, a voice at my side whispered, He is
gone.
But the sea was a narrow one, and on the furthest shore, a
little band of friends had gathered to watch in happy expectation.
Suddenly, they caught sight of the tiny sail. And at the very moment
when my companion had whispered, He is gone, a glad shout went up in
joyous welcome with the words, yes, here he comes!

roger said...

Last year, my brother in law in his 40's who is very fit and an avid runner, went for a 10k run. He had run every day for years. He went home and was about to get in the shower but collapsed.

He had suffered a major brain hemorrhage and given no hope and word spread throughout my family that he had passed away. His parents were heading to his home out of town getting ready for the funeral.

Because he was an organ donor, he was taken to hospital where doctors were waiting to take his organs.

While on the table and just before the operation, he reached up and grabbed the doctor's arm. This was the start of a remarkable recovery. He seemed to have cheated death, and slowly but surely is improving....although with some permanent damage.

If he hadn't been an organ donor, he would have gone to the morgue and that would have been the end. It still makes me shiver when I think about it.

Susan said...

Death is not scary, but it is unwanted. Being a big Trek fan, I have twisted a Klingon saying - It is a good day to live!
Having lost my parents when they were relatively young (59 and 69), the funeral ritual - we had 2 days of visitation and the funeral service. They were part of the process - of grieving and of the healing. During the visitations, my siblings got hugs (one of the few times that it is acceptable to hug someone), we heard stories that we never heard before, stories that made us laugh and cry.
Yet in the last 10 years, so many people have made plans to and have just had the memorial service or no service at all. When I asked those living why they have only planned a memorial service - their answer is that the visitations would be too hard/upsetting on their family members. Yet, in my experience and observations, the healing begins with the visitation.

David Mundy said...

Thank you for these additions to the conversation. All of your responses added greatly to my musings.