Can you help?

Space burial is about sending a portion of cremation ashes into space, then releasing them so that they can orbit the Earth. 

Up in Glasgow, Tom Walkinshaw is developing his own space burial programme. It’s ambitious stuff. He’s won an award from Glasgow Caledonian University and he has the support of the Prince’s Scottish Youth Business Trust.

Tom is carrying out a survey to find out more about what people want, and he has appealed to the readers of the GFG to tell him what they think.

We very much hope you’ll help him out. You can do that by going over to the survey — it’s very short — here

Find Tom’s website here

Thank you!

Different cultures, different customs

Very interesting photo-essay here about the ghats at Varanasi. Good text, too. 

Sometimes poorer people cannot afford enough wood to completely burn a body. In this case charred body parts are simply flung into the river with the ashes. Certain people, such as small children, pregnant women and holy men, are not cremated at all, but instead simply have their bodies weighted down with stones and are dropped into the Ganges. Not too pleasant for the many bathers around the ghats.

As a solution to the problem of human remains clogging up the Ganges, snapping turtles were bred and released into the river specifically to eat the corpses and bones. A good idea, maybe, but since bodies and body parts are still seen floating around the river today, perhaps not as effective as originally hoped. 

Doctors need to grieve, too

There’s an interesting piece in the New York Times here about the emotional difficulties doctors experience when working with people who are going to die. People often characterise doctors as cold and uncaring when, in fact, they may simply not be coping:

We found that oncologists struggled to manage their feelings of grief with the detachment they felt was necessary to do their job. More than half of our participants reported feelings of failure, self-doubt, sadness and powerlessness as part of their grief experience, and a third talked about feelings of guilt, loss of sleep and crying.

Our study indicated that grief in the medical context is considered shameful and unprofessional. Even though participants wrestled with feelings of grief, they hid them from others because showing emotion was considered a sign of weakness. In fact, many remarked that our interview was the first time they had been asked these questions or spoken about these emotions at all.

Even more distressing, half our participants reported that their discomfort with their grief over patient loss could affect their treatment decisions with subsequent patients — leading them, for instance, to provide more aggressive chemotherapy, to put a patient in a clinical trial, or to recommend further surgery when palliative care might be a better option. 

Unease with losing patients also affected the doctors’ ability to communicate about end-of-life issues with patients and their families. Half of our participants said they distanced themselves and withdrew from patients as the patients got closer to dying. This meant fewer visits in the hospital, fewer bedside visits and less overall effort directed toward the dying patient.

Oncologists are not trained to deal with their own grief, and they need to be. In addition to providing such training, we need to normalize death and grief as a natural part of life, especially in medical settings.

To improve the quality of end-of-life care for patients and their families, we also need to improve the quality of life of their physicians, by making space for them to grieve like everyone else.

What do Quakers and atheists have in common?

Posted by our religious correspondent, Richard Rawlinson

You’d think Quakers and atheists were poles apart but I’ve been pondering a similarity. On the surface, Quaker funerals are very different from humanist funerals, and that’s aside from faith in God. The former involves silent reflection and prayer, the latter tends to be dominated by words and music celebrating the life of the deceased. What they share in common is the emphasis on individuality.

Quaker founder George Fox was an earnest Leicestershire lad who rejected parental pressure to become a ‘hireling minister’, as neither the Church of England nor any of the dissenting sects of the 17th century matched his perception of how the Almighty should be worshipped and obeyed.

In response to a dream in which he was told to take a lonely journey in search of the light, he left home with nothing but his Bible, and wandered the country for a few years. Finding no consolations in organised religion, he began accepting his own idiosyncratic imaginings as revelations.

Founding his opinions on isolated Bible texts, he gradually evolved a system at variance with every existing form of Christianity. His central dogma was that of the ‘inner light’, communicated directly to the individual soul by Christ.

Creeds and churches, rites and sacraments were discarded as outward things. Carrying the Protestant doctrine of private judgment to its logical conclusion, even the Scriptures were to be interpreted by the inner light. Inconvenient passages, such as those establishing Baptism and the Eucharist, were interpreted in an allegorical sense, while other passages were insisted upon with a literalness previously unknown.

From the text ‘Swear not at all’, Fox drew the illicitness of oaths, even when demanded by the magistrate. War, even if defensive, was declared unlawful. Art, music, drama, sports, dancing and ornamental attire and interiors were rejected as unbecoming the gravity of a Christian.

As Fox began public preaching, his ideas gained numerous converts. The Society of Friends was born, later called Quakers as a derogatory term. As a growing army of missionaries spread Fox’s word around the world, they made enemies with the establishment and dissenters alike. During the reign of Charles II, thousands of ‘Quakers’ were imprisoned in England. They fared worse in the Puritan colonies in Massachusetts, where members were hanged for heresy.

Due to the excesses of some of his followers, Fox was later compelled to introduce a code of discipline to guide the ‘inner light’. The early Quakers, and those around today, often admit the so-called external, fundamental dogmas of Christianity, as expounded in the Apostle’s Creed. They may reject as non-Scriptural the term Trinity but they confess the Godhead of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, plus the doctrine of the Redemption and salvation through Christ.

And though Fox dismissed ‘steeple-houses’, he was forced to gather his followers into congregations in meeting houses. They worship without liturgy and in silence until someone is moved by the Spirit to ‘give testimony’, the value of which is gauged by the common sense of the assembly.

In this respect, they certainly differ both from faiths using liturgy-based ceremony, and from secularists, whose services–though individualised–tend to rely on crafted scripts for their structure.  

  

Channel 4’s Dispatches set to rumble the undertakers

“Dispatches lifts the lid on the funeral industry. Using undercover filming, Jackie Long investigates what really happens to our loved ones when they die.”

Monday June 25 at 8.00pm. Channel 4. 

In certain districts of Funeralworld, fear stalks the streets.

Cancel all other appointments.

 

Lost in translation

From yesterday’s Guardian newspaper: 

Everyone in Israel is talking about the British-American BBC comedy Episodes. Not that it is airing there, but the show has recently become famous for its disastrous use of freebie online translation.

In episode three, Merc Lapidus, one of the lead characters, attends the funeral of his father. The episode was shown in the UK several weeks ago and is airing in the US later this summer.The gravestone, as per Jewish tradition, is bilingual – the local vernacular, in this case English, along with Hebrew. But the entire Hebrew inscription is written backwards, starting with the last letter and working back to the first. The reason, of course, is that Hebrew runs in the opposite direction from English, from right to left. And it gets worse. If you go to the trouble of reading the text, you’ll discover that the man commemorated, a certain Yuhudi Penzel, has been “pickled at great expense”. This is what you get if you use Google Translate to render “dearly missed” into Hebrew. The blooper is now going viral in Israel.

Hat tip to SweetPea.

Introducing the Last Lullaby coffin

We get a steady trickle of phone calls here at the GFG from people who think they’ve got a brilliant product or service to offer the bereaved. Some have, some haven’t. All have already approached funeral directors in the expectation of whoops, backslapping and high fives. All, even the truly brilliant, have been received by more or less unanimous indifference flavoured with lofty disdain or total apathy. No surprises there. 

Herein lies great opportunity for elite funeral directors with powers of discernment  – those who read this blog, mostly. How great it must be for you to have such competitors. 

We were excited to be rung up this morning by an artist called Moth. We find we like her a lot. Moth specialises in murals, and has recently discovered a passion for hand painting children’s coffins. Here’s what she says:

I cannot put right what surely must be one of the most terrible injustices a parent can ever experience – but I can attempt to make a difference – in offering a sensitive and heartfelt alternative to the anonymity of the small, plain white box that is offered to you to transport your precious little person on their final journey in this world. I feel strongly that the anonymity inflicted on babies who die makes it harder for parents to fully engage in the grieving process.

Moth listens sensitively and intuitively, then paints any picture or design parents choose on a wee Sunset coffin, which she prefers for its soft, tactile texture. She says, “It is my passionate desire to give you and your child a voice, and to allow you to live on, knowing that you have given your child a beautiful farewell.”

She’s done her research. She understands the time constraints. She charges according to how much time she spends. The Lily coffin, above, comes in at around £500, a price that is highly unlikely to enrich her.  

Judge for yourself. Click on the photos to bring them up to full size. 

Ring Moth on 01684 574980 / 07855867485
Email her: moth@lastlullaby.co.uk
Check out her website here.

It happens…

Extracted from the Otago Daily Times. New Zealand:

A man who disrupted a Balclutha funeral, yelling vulgarities and causing distress and upset, has been remanded in custody.

Stephen John Hurring (59), of Balclutha, pleaded guilty to disorderly behaviour likely to cause violence at the Balclutha Memorial Hall.

Prosecutor Acting Sergeant Mike Gasson said about 700 mourners were at the funeral.

An intoxicated Hurring was standing in the hall’s entrance foyer about 2.10pm.

During proceedings, he became verbally abusive towards the dead person, yelling vulgarities and causing distress to mourners, including family.

Asked to leave, Hurring refused and caused a commotion, disrupting the funeral.

When restrained by an off-duty constable, Hurring lashed out.

Public defender Jo Turner said Hurring wished to apologise for his behaviour. The person who had died had been a close friend.

Source

Quote of the day

“It is the role of the mortuary staff to pack orifices, not the nurse.”

NHS guide to last offices here.

Thoughts of a funeral-goer

Posted by Lyra Mollington

After even just a few funerals, remaining focused as a mystery mourner is proving quite a challenge.  No wonder some of the vicars sound lacklustre.  They must be thinking, ‘Here we go again: everyone looking glum; pretending to listen; miming to the words of the hymn; wishing they were already at the pub.’

After a couple of dull funerals that were not worth writing about, I thought about giving up.  However, I seem to have become addicted.  And, like a gambler, I live in hope.  Add to that the dreadful weather we’ve been having lately and, before I knew what was happening, I was wearing my black suit and driving through the gates of my local crematorium.  Keeping my fingers crossed for a winner.  But were the odds against me?

We all followed the coffin in.  I sat three rows from the front just behind the family, leaving everyone else skirmishing over the seats at the back.  It’s as though they are back at school – if they sit too near the front the vicar might ask them to come up to the lectern and read something. 

‘I have a poem here that the family have chosen.  It’s rather sentimental and theologically unsound so would someone like to read it for me?  You madam!  Yes you, sitting on the second row back with the ill-fitting jacket and the red cheeks…’

I was daydreaming and I completely missed our vicar’s real opening words.  I then noticed that the floral displays were new.  Artificial of course but quite tasteful, standing out nicely against the curtains.

I was suddenly aware that we were standing up.   I quickly checked the order of service.  Unbelievable!  All Things Bright & Beautiful.  Again.  What are the chances?   

As we sat down, I resolved to concentrate.  I berated myself… this was someone’s funeral.  Someone who may (or may not) have been dearly loved.  It wasn’t yet clear.  I focused on the photograph on the front of the order of service.  It was of a smiling woman with dark wavy hair.  Dyed?  Shirley Ann. My age. 

As I tuned in once more to the Reverend Susan, I was disappointed that there was still no sign of Shirley: her life; her legacy, her hopes and dreams…

Absent-mindedly, I picked up a book from the shelf in front of me: ‘Funeral Services of the Christian Churches in England – New Edition’.

We were standing again – The King of Love my Shepherd Is.  As we sang, I wondered whether the line ‘Perverse and foolish oft I strayed’ applied to Shirley.  And what on earth is ‘unction grace’?

I felt sad as I left the mourners standing around in the drizzle staring at their flowers.  Perhaps Shirley was a private person and this had been the perfect send-off for her: godly words of comfort for her family and friends chosen by the Reverend Susan.  To my shame, I had hardly listened to a single word.

I rummaged in my handbag to find my car keys and I felt something that shouldn’t have been there.  A book.   

I put the heating on when I got home (heavens above, is it really June?).  I read the book of Christian funeral services from cover to cover.  Well, almost: I skimmed some of the prayers and the selection of 44 hymns at the back.  I looked in vain for two of my favourites, ‘I Vow to Thee My Country’ and ‘Onward Christian Soldiers’. 

Although I continued to feel despondent that no-one had wanted (or been able) to share a little about Shirley’s life, I concluded that there are some lovely readings in the book of funeral services. 

I wondered whether these were amongst the words chosen by Reverend Susan: ‘Eternal God…We thank you for Shirley, for the years you gave her and the years we shared with her…’  I hoped they were.  I am determined to listen properly next time.  And there has to be a next time fairly soon – this perverse and foolish woman has stolen goods to return.

© Lyra Mollington 2012