What do you want?

James Leedam, a good friend of the Good Funeral Guide, is collecting info about what people want at funeral, how they would find out about it, and what influences their choices. As the ceo of Natural Burial Grounds, James is especially keen to find out what influences those who go green when they die. 

He’d very much like you to fill in a survey for him. It’s one of those Survey Monkey surveys where you don’t have to spend ages entering personal details, etc. It’s completely anonymous, and it won’t take you more than two minutes.

Please do it. Find it here

Immortalising mortality

The Dying Matters Coalition is holding its very own Death Booker (well, something like that). Dying Matters is offering a prize for “new creative writing about dying, death and bereavement. Anyone touched by dying, whether directly or as a relative, friend, colleague or carer, can enter.”

The judges will be looking for original writing in which the author’s feelings and thoughts about the end of life have been crafted into a succinct piece of work that attracts the reader’s attention and retains their interest. 

Prizes

1st: £200; 2nd: £100; 3rd: £50; plus highly commended certificates. All entries will also be considered for publication online or in print form.

The winners will be announced during Dying Matters Awareness Week, 14-20 May 2012.

The project could lead to the publication of a selective anthology and the formation of an archive, and we expect it to generate considerable public interest.

More details on the Dying Matters website here

Who says?

“The current law exists to protect those who are sick, elderly, depressed, or disabled from feeling obliged to end their lives. It requires every case to be reviewed by the police and the DPP to determine whether a prosecution is appropriate. The present law protects those who have no voice against exploitation and coercion, acts as a powerful deterrent to would-be abusers and gives discretion to judges to temper justice with mercy in hard cases. The current law does not need changing.”

Dr Peter Saunders, Campaign Director of Care Not Killing

The Commission finds that there is a strong case for providing the choice of assisted dying for terminally ill people. Even with skilled end of life care,
the Commission finds that a comparatively small number of people who are terminally ill experience a degree of su+ering towards the end of their life,
which they consider can only be relieved either by the ending of their life, or by the knowledge that they can end their life at a time of their own choosing.

Download (free) the Commission on Assisted Dying report here

Two weeks ago I told a man that he was dying…

Here’s the beginning of a brilliant post by an American doctor, Jordan Grumet, who blogs over at  In My Humble Opinion. Do follow the link at the end and read the rest. 

 

Two weeks ago I told a man that he was dying. We sat together in the mid afternoon haze. Puffs of snow meandered by the hospital window and wended their way down to the ground. The sun was lost behind winter’s never ending clouds.

The tempo of my voice was steady, lacking variation in tenor and pitch. I clung to my lab coat as if I was floating outside the window and being blasted by the inclement conditions.

I waited coldly for a response. At first, he stared at me quizzically. His eyes asked so many questions but his lips remained still. He shook his head and sighed. I glanced above him at the ticking clock.

You’re wrong. It’s not my time yet!

 

Read the rest here

 

 

Unrecognised rituals

Posted by Gloria Mundi

There’s been some very interesting stuff recently about the importance of ritual, and how we need to develop more ritual forms for secular funerals. Vide, for example, The extra-rational power of ritual

I find it difficult to draw a line between “ritual” and “ceremony,” and maybe there is no satisfyingly sharp distinction, perhaps it’s more of a continuum than a boundary. A comment on Wikipedia was helpful; it describes ritual as a set of actions “which to the outsider seems irrational, non-contiguous, or illogical.” Maybe a ceremony is a series of shared actions more explicable in every-day, rational terms, and ritual has more symbolic, imaginatively compulsive and non-rational power. Look at Trooping the Colour on the Queen’s birthday; for a Japanese tourist, maybe it’s just a colourful ceremony. For British monarchists, it might have an illogically powerful, ritualistic reference, helping them feel who they are and where they have come from, a ritual that strengthens their sense of identity.

Or like Christmas. I mean the domestic Christmas, not the obviously ritualistic elements of carol services in lovely old buildings. You may, if you are a parent of adult children, have encountered the illogical power of Christmas rituals established in your child’s early years. Of course she doesn’t “believe” in Father Christmas, but she still wants a stocking, the same familiar ornaments – and what do you mean, let’s have beef for Christmas dinner? These things are not entirely (or at all!) rational, they are not ceremonies, but they relate to an individual’s sense of who they are and where they are from.

I’m being flippant, but I think there is an element of ritualistic power about our shared family customs at this time of year. And perhaps there are plenty of other occasions at which we overlook the fact that actions and words may have ritual, rather than merely ceremonial or customary power.

It may be that the way to develop powerful ritual in secular, non-church/temple/mosque funerals is to begin by fully recognizing the ritualistic in what we already do, even at the most ordinary and unchallenging of crematorium funerals here in the UK. Here are a few elements of a crem funeral that seem to me to have ritual potential:

  1. (Most) people wear special clothes. They often wear black or dark colours. Like many ritual elements, this one is entirely non-rational but powerfully emotive because of the cultural associations of black in our society. In some cultures, white is, or was, the colour of mourning (ancient China). If we wear different coloured clothes, we are probably doing so to react against the tradition, and because we want to “celebrate” a life. I think our reaction against “mournful” funeral trappings such as black clothes also has an irrational element to it, and is a decision made for ritual reasons.
  2. We (usually) process in. If we don’t, and the gathering is already seated, everyone stands when the coffin comes in. Why? To show respect. There is no rational reason why you can’t be just as respectful sitting down – the roots of this practice seem ritualistic to me.
  3. We have special music. It may have its roots in the dead person’s life, tastes and views, in which case it is felt to have powerful meanings for those who knew the person. So someone used to listen to Carly Simon in his youth, and one of her tracks “brings him to mind,” as we say. Even though the person had no real-life connection with Ms Simon, he didn’t write the song, didn’t play on the recording, etc. Or the music may itself have originated in religious ritual. I want “Spem in Alium.” Don’t ask me what I believe, just play the disc. It is imaginatively compelling, it can create a sense of personal transcendence, even for non-believers. It has ritualistic power.
  4. We have special words. These words vary much more than traditional burial liturgies of whatever religion, but they are certainly special, for the occasion, and often full of non-rational, symbolic meaning.
  5. We may have a passage of prose, or a poem, often chosen not for its recognized excellence as a poem, but because it says something we can’t state in the language of reason and fact, it may even fly in the face of reason itself. Take the end of Do Not Stand By My Grave and Weep: “I am not there; I did not die.” Er….well, you did, that’s why we’re all here, says the irritatingly rational part of me. But the people present believe that in a sense, you didn’t, you’re still with them, because their memories of you, and the meanings your life created and passed on to them, those things are still with them. So in a symbolic, imaginatively powerful, emotionally compelling sense, no, “you” did not die. That is, what you mean to other people did not cease when your life ended. And part of the job of the funeral may well be to make that so. Personally, I am far from crazy about that poem – so what? I think it often has a ritualistic power for the people who choose it.
  6. Sentiments about the continuity of emotion and memory, the transfer of meaning from a live individual away from his/her lifeless body to the group identities of those present – this is irrational but powerful stuff, and that mouldy old poem is part of it. Such sentiments, I would guess, very frequently re-occur in secular ceremonies. They are part of our developing ritual.
  7. We may have other symbolically powerful elements – flowers, photographs, objects associated with the dead person, all of which may imaginatively represent or summarise the person.

And so on, no doubt we can add to the list.

The officiant (I use the dry term deliberately) at a funeral of a friend of a friend was criticised by someone who observed that those present would have got more warmth and empathy from the bloke in the box than the person at the lectern.

If we want to develop better ritual for secular funerals, we must first recognize and deliver existing elements as well as possible. It is no help to carp to ourselves and our colleagues that all this is not as powerful or original as it could be. New forms of ritual can only evolve from where we are now. Let’s work with that and through it. If we were all doing it really well, that’d be something.

Clergy: watch out for the mystery mourner!

From yesterday’s Independent:

The Church of England is asking its followers to give feedback on funerals and christenings in a drive to make services more popular.

The Archbishop’s Council has commissioned independent researchers to delve into how the Church ministers to its faithful at the key moments of birth and death. The research is partially motivated by concerns over the gradual decline in people using churches for christenings, weddings and funerals now that secular alternatives are readily available.

The two projects will seek feedback from congregations about what improvements could be made. A similar scheme began five years ago in the Bradford and Oxford dioceses to examine weddings, for which brides and grooms were asked to “rate” their marriage on subjects as varied as the friendliness of the vicar and whether church staff were helpful.

Read it all here. Hat tip to Dan Phillips for this. 

Quote of the day

“All doctors have the knowledge and – usually – the means to end their lives … and quite a few use this privilege, even if it doesn’t appear on their death certificates. Doctors are also more likely to have medical friends and relations prepared to assist if necessary. As a doctor, this is a great comfort to me and I don’t see why enabling the unmedical to share this comfort is wrong in an age when deference and privilege are increasingly unfashionable.”

Dr Colin Brewer in evidence to the Commission on Dying, December 2011

All the world’s a stage

 

“A couple of parting thoughts on the development of new ritual for secular funerals before I switch off the computer for Christmas,” wrote our religious correspondent, Richard Rawlinson some days before the onset of festivities. Yikes, sorry, Richard; we lost that post in the tinsel. 

We’re not letting it go, though; your thoughts about ritual are always welcome, and they have not been rendered obsolete by the passage of time. By happy coincidence, Gloria Mundi has a piece on ritual waiting to go out tomorrow. So this’ll work just fine side by side with his.  

In a thread on a recent blog, Gloria Mundi has said: ‘I don’t think we’ll get far in the development of new rituals for secular funerals until we stop arguing about belief and concentrate on shape and meaning… Let’s move forwards, shall we?’

I’ve said previously that it’s up to secularists to take up the mantle to create any new ritual, but the future is best formed by looking at the past.

As an exercise aiming to be helpful, I read a funeral mass, deleting the inapplicable (references that require belief) and attempted to adapt a few lines to secular taste. The exercise failed abysmally as most content ended up on the cutting room floor as it’s nearly all God-centred. Shape and meaning were lost due to the need for belief.

I pondered a few other exercises involving looking at political, legal and educational institutions, sports, festivals, and life cycle ceremonies. Much that I like an intuitive quick fix, I concluded this subject requires a more laborious, academic approach, where ritual itself is more thoroughly defined.

Ritual is paradoxical. It’s a social construct yet it defines a portion of reality. It’s intrinsically conventional – repetitive, formal, precise, stylised – yet requires collective imagination.

Too much analysis of a fictional drama pierces the illusion of reality that allows it to take on dangerous matters. The enemy of ritual is the spoilsport who is unwilling to voluntarily suspend belief, incapable of allowing the symbols of a man-made production to take on authentic meaning.

When blatantly designed by masters-of-ceremony and lacking the history and sanctity of traditional religious symbolism, rituals can seem too self-conscious, shallow and abstract to arouse deep emotion and profound conviction.

However, ritual can certainly be either sacred or secular. The key is placing the right symbolic acts within the framework of secular funerals. This might involve formalising the entire framework of the ceremony. The Mass is split into the Introductory Rites (greeting, blessing); Penitential Rite; Liturgy of the Word; Liturgy of the Eucharist (the big one); and the concluding blessing. By sequencing and scripting events, you eliminate potential disruption, unpredictability, confusion and accident.

Nor does sequencing deny individuality. Secular ceremony already alternates between highly specific acts – toasts, salutes, pledges, oaths – with open spaces for improvisation and particularisation – speeches, songs, and so forth.

Some of these structured, predictable – even unchanging – segments provide opportunities for participants to establish their individual emotions, identities, motives and needs. Others allow the ritual masters of ceremony to convey the specific, idiosyncratic messages which are unique to the occasion in hand.

Open sections can be short or protracted, can involve several people or one, can be conventional or new, but must be coordinated to ensure they’re a scene in the same play. If they fail as accurate and authentic metaphors, emotional momentum will flag.

A blessed new year to you all. 

Love letter to self

The Co-operative Funeralcare has helped generations of families through difficult times, providing care support and reassurance when it matters most.

The Co-operative Funeralcare has become the country’s leading funeral director because of the high quality of care we deliver through our people working at a local level, who are backed by resources and expertise that only a trusted national organisation can provide.

The Co-operative Funeralcare offers a genuinely local funeral service backed by the strength and reassurance of a unique, caring organisation. Our top priority is to provide the best possible services for our clients and to invest in the communities that we serve. 

It must be true; it says so in the Northwich Guardian

Ashes

Ashes at the funeral home
six hundred still to be collected
small boxes, cardboard, filed in rows
a kind of shell grit for the chickens
fifteen years six hundred still
that somehow somewhere should be scattered:
sown like seed across a paddock
thrown as gravel upon water
or set there upon the mantelpiece
and added to at parties
or dug perhaps in some well-loved
old gardner’s acidic corner
that needs a spot of lime
or tossed aloft like hard confetti
at weddings in the park
where at the end he might have sat
or stowed in brass behind a name
the cemetery as mail exchange
and postbox minus key.
How is it that they cannot face this morning’s meeting long deferred
this grey irrelevance of ashes against what dawn and memory bring
so vertical and three-dimensioned
though growing slowly blurred?
They cannot bear to sign the book
a woman at the counter holds
so long inured to tears.
And some themselves
who would have come
are patient on the shelves.

Geoff Page is an Australian poet. You can read more about him (and more of his poems) here.