The modern funeral is a grief-bypass procedure?

Stewart Dakers is a 76 year-old voluntary community worker with a weekly column in the Guardian. He wrote a piece in last week’s Spectator about funerals. Here’s a taster:

Funerals ain’t what they used to be. Today’s emphasis is more on celebrating a life past than honouring the future of a soul. While I am not averse to a celebratory element, the funeral is morphing into a spiritually weightless bless-fest. This was brought home to me last week at the funeral of Enid, a lady I knew only through our mutual attendance at bingo in the community centre.

I was uncomfortable from the moment we gathered outside the church, where my sombre suit set me apart from the Technicolor crowd of family and friends. The atmosphere was more akin to a wedding, even a hen do, than a funeral, the air drenched in perfume and aftershave. Inside, there was pew-to-pew chatter, wall-to-wall music (Robbie Williams’s ‘Angels’, inevitably), not a single moment of silence, and not a single sacred song, let alone a prayer (an inaccurately mumbled Lord’s Prayer excepted). There were two readings, one by a grand-niece of perhaps eight, snivelling, bless, a poem about being only next door; then a nephew offering a eulogy, the main point of which was that his aunt had been a keen gardener ‘and she will plant her flowers in heaven’.

I know I shouldn’t sneer. Religion, the Anglican version anyhow, is a broad church with a wide liturgical spectrum. But I could not help feeling that such celebration missed the point. It somehow connected with a virtual life rather than a real death. It was spiritual displacement activity.

You can read the rest of the article by clicking here.

Frankly speaking

In a report published today the Work and Pensions Committee says the UK Government should follow the lead of the Scottish Government and conduct a broad review of burials, cremations and funerals, with a view to making changes that have a long-term impact on funeral inflation and reduce funeral poverty.

The Committee also says evidence it heard in its recent inquiry into publicly funded bereavement support suggests the funeral industry may not be operating in a way that serves bereaved, vulnerable people well. This evidence on the operation of the funeral industry has been passed to the Competition and Markets Authority.

Frank Field MP, chair of the Committee, said: “We did not set out to inquire into the funeral industry but it soon became apparent that the interaction between an opaque and outdated public system of bereavement support and a market in funeral services which simply does not operate “normally”, is causing problems.

Read the full report here

The NAFD has issued a statement in response calling into question ‘some highly inflammatory and unsubstantiated remarks made in the report’ – read it here

What to wear for a funeral

Guest post by Wendy Coulton

Choosing what to wear when conducting a funeral is an important aspect as a professional and for the bereaved I am serving.

Advice which stuck with me when I was trained as a funeral celebrant was that I am not mourning and therefore it is not a requirement for me to wear black.

The bereaved decide the dress code

First and foremost I find out from the bereaved client what the dress code is for the funeral when we are planning it together. Some prefer the traditional black mourning attire so that will influence my wardrobe choice for that funeral – a dark purple, charcoal grey or dark blue. But if the family make it clear everyone is to wear black then I will respect their wishes.

Sometimes a specific colour is chosen as an accent colour for its personal relevance to the person who has died or to reflect the tone of the funeral focussing with love and thanks on the life that was lived and how that person enriched the lives of those who knew them. Increasingly funeral directors wear different colour ties to acknowledge the colour preference of the bereaved. I have a growing collection of scarves as a more cost effective way of introducing a chosen colour to the dress code.

I generally tend to wear bright jackets but for the more conservative clients I may tone it down. For example for the funeral of an elderly traditional lady I favour a pastel pink with grey.

Personal touches

My clients always appreciate the simple extra touches which reflect the careful thought given to the individuality of their funeral ceremony.  For example I wore an understated blue thistle button hole on my jacket at the funeral for a man who was very proud of his Scottish heritage. His family were really appreciative of my nod to his patriotism.

The city football club colour is green so I invested in a dress in the same shade which I wear when the deceased was a Plymouth Argyle supporter.

Standing out from the crowd

From a practical point of view it can help the next of kin find me before we go into the chapel, particularly if there is a high attendance and everyone is wearing similar clothes. 

As a ‘neutral’ person without a uniform or universally recognised dress code like the clergy it is important that I am recognised easily as the person who is responsible for conducting the funeral ceremony.

My brand

I want to come across as warm, approachable, professional and kind. What I wear reflects this. I do not want to come across as efficient, formal and detached. Often I wear a Dragonfly brooch or necklace by way of a discreet image which may stay in the sub conscious of people attending the funeral so they relate that to my business name Dragonfly Funerals.

Womb to tomb

Posted by John Porter

This is the most exploitative time of our year. Everyone gladly leaps onto the bandwagon and we cheer each other into debt. The orgy of gift opening on the day is extraordinary. Children rip open expensive toys that leave almost nothing to their imaginations. Within minutes they start to play with the boxes and wrapping paper – to really play. I smile. I think the problem is that our early winter festival is described as a religious festival – to celebrate the birth of Christ. Churches of all descriptions have got it wrong, thanks to Pope Gregory. It was he who sanctioned the inclusion of fertility cults and practices – if you can’t beat them, join us! Ever since we have been left with a Christmess. Jesus was probably born around late September/early October during the Feast of Tabernacles. The three “kings” were most likely Jewish princes of some kind. He was laid in a manger but was not born in a stable with ox and ass around. It is much more likely to have happened in a central courtyard of a large stone inn. Mary’s extended family would not give her any of their rooms as they were convinced she had had sex with Joseph. They were shocked by his denial yet amazed by his ongoing commitment to Mary.

The Twelve Days of Christmas song actually relates to a fertility cult tradition where a leader of a village, for twelve days, could have sex with any woman he wanted – thanks to Pope Gregory’s gracious welcome into the Roman Church! No, I’m not a Roman Catholic! Santa Claus is another twisted tale of a Turkish monk who helped the poor. The red suit and white beard may have been a Coca Cola invention?!

What has this to do with funerals? The clue is in the title of this piece. A public lowly birth. A most public mock-King death. A funeral that never really happened, despite the women being ready to follow the customary rituals after the Sabbath. If the conception of Christ was indeed parthenogenetic then a quick look into Mary’s womb is in order. Let’s imagine that the Biblical record is true. What we have is Mary’s human egg. It had to be otherwise tons of Old Testament prophesies would come a cropper. The bloodline had to be from King David. That’s why it is careless to skip over the genealogies in Matthew and Luke – non Jews just don’t seem to get them. Then the Holy Spirit creates a male buy cialis auckland sperm and it successfully fertilises Mary’s fully human egg. God and man. If this was the X Files we have an “alien”/human hybrid! Let’s say we accept the virgin birth as a fact – there have been at least six recorded human virgin births – all female. Apart from angels, visions and other amazing things Jesus’ birth was totally normal. The carol line “… no crying he makes” may bring a lump to a parent’s throat as they watch, wet-eyed, their four year-old croaking away under the church Christmas tree, but this is sentimental nonsense. Jesus cried, he produced wee and poo. He needed cleaning, feeding, clothing, cuddling and worrying about.

Anyway let’s go back to Mary’s womb, this time with an eye on the stone-sealed tomb. I doubt that the following verse will be read in churches across the world in the next few weeks: “When Herod realised he had been outwitted by the Magi, he was furious, and he gave orders to kill all the boys in Bethelhem and its vicinity who were two years old and under.” This does not make for a good nativity script! I have been to Bethelhem and cried as I imagined the soldiers coming and wrenching babies and toddlers away from parents. The cries must have haunted families for years after. No funerals. Zoom forward to when Jesus was a boy, his parents having escaped Herod’s death edict and fled with him to Egypt are now back living in Nazareth on a trip to Jerusalem. They marvelled at the words spoken by Simeon, a holy man, about their special boy; and then this devastating line is said by Simeon: “And a sword will pierce your own soul too,” referring to the spear into the side of the dead Christ and Mary’s pain at seeing her boy murdered on the cross – sanctioned by a Roman procurator whose wife had told him “Have nothing to do with this innocent man.

The cross, not a star, hovers over the manger where a human/divine baby cries.

No wonder that families, who say to a funeral director, “We want a non-religious service” often say a little later “…but we want a bit of God in it!” The story of this baby’s start in life is compelling.

Have a great time during this late December festival.

PS – I have a New Year’s resolution in mind that I would like to do it with a friend. I’ll ask her about it next week – it involves reading an entire library of books!

Tradition is a guide, not a jailer

When Lawrence Llewelyn Bowen was at large on tv’s Changing Rooms, it was not unusual for people to weep when they saw what he’d done to their living room and, through their tears, defiantly declare that, first chance they got, they were going go out and buy 5 litres of brilliant white.

Not all, mind. Some loved the opulence and the clutter.

The same tension between magnificence and minimalism has been evident throughout the history of the British funeral. The time of greatest opulence was between 1400 and 1700, the golden age of the heraldic funeral, supervised by the College of Arms and reserved, of course, for armigerous people, ordinary folk being of no account in those days, not having Russell Brand to speak up for them. The period of greatest minimalism was during the Protectorate, when the Directory of Public Worship (1644) ordained:

When any person departeth this life, let the dead body, upon the day of burial, be decently attended from the house to the place appointed for public burial, and there be immediately interred, without any ceremony.

Cromwell’s own funeral was exceedingly grandiose.

The Puritan funeral has only been surpassed in simplicity by that minimalist newcomer, direct disposal.

The educated and the posh know that the first rule of good taste is restraint. Their fastidiousness is not endorsed by most so-called ‘ordinary people’, who love to put on a good show and, afterwards, festoon a grave with garish, joyous grieving bling. The East End funeral is a good example, the sort of occasion that Bertram Puckle had in mind in his 1926 bestseller, Funeral Customs, Their Origin And Development:

The procession conducting the body to the grave has always offered a welcomed opportunity for the display of pomp, circumstance and ostentatious grief, so prized by the vulgar mind. The average man or woman can claim public attention only at marriage and burial, and on each of these occasions a nonentity becomes the centre of attraction in a ceremonial procession to and from the church.

Not sure if he means the undertaker, the chief griever or the corpse.

We all love a bit of pomp and ceremony even if, for some people (liberals, lefties, intellectual snobs) admitting it is like fessing up that their favourite film is the Sound of Music. Strong men and women of all worldviews have wept at the spectacle of the doggy mascot of the Irish Guards. I know; I am one of them.

And that’s why I deplore the decline of the ‘traditional’ funeral for people who wish, in the spirit of the Irish Guards, to put on the dog for their funerals, but are presently declining to do so either because we, as a culture, are going through another bout of minimalism or, as seems more likely, they are not getting value from our trad, ceremonial funeral. It’s not doing them enough good to justify the expense.

Before we consider the elements of the ceremonial funeral and ask ourselves what we want to keep and what we can repurpose, let’s make sure we understand one thing above all. The modern ceremonial funeral is modelled on the Victorian funeral. And it doesn’t stop there, because the Victorian funeral was a chivalric revival of the medieval heraldic funeral. Our trad funeral has its origins in chapter one of our island story. Are we really going to stand stony-eyed and watch all that go down the pan?

The obsession with the one-off, bespoke, personalised funeral fails to take into account all those who like funerals whose format is a comfortingly familiar and recognisable and which contains a well-written, well-delivered, highly personal eulogy.

Here, then, are some generic elements of ceremonial. Which would you junk and which would keep?

1.  Public
2. Processional 
3. Eyecatching (ie, presents a visual spectacle)
4. Hierarchical
5. Creates a fitting sense of occasion
6. Comprises symbolic, non-verbal acts
7. Ritualistic, operating according to arbitrary or arcane rules
8. Incorporating visual, tactile, olfactory, kinetic, auditory and gustatory (food) elements
9. Participative
10. Of minimal utilitarian value

Next, which of the following statements do you agree or disagree with?

1. Funerary ceremonial is a means of preserving historic attitudes and conduct – ‘this is what we think and this is what we do when someone dies’. To reject socially sanctioned ceremonial is not an expression of autonomy, it is an anti-social act.
2. Ceremonial confers legitimacy – ‘if we did not do it this way it would be inauthentic’.
3. Tradition – ie faith in the authority of immemorial beliefs and institutions – is the path to truth – ‘I will only be able to handle this and make sense of it if I stick to the ritual.’ Desired consequences ensue if you do the ritual right.
4. Rejection or absence of ceremonial typifies a culture where institutions and collective beliefs are weak. Tradition dies when social conditions and/or belief systems alter and traditional responses are seen to produce an adverse reaction.
5. A familiar ritual is a means of dealing with something we do not fully understand. We meet the event with such wisdom as we have already assimilated from previous experiences of the ritual
6. A processional funeral is a vehicle which takes you from one mental/emotional state to another. “A good funeral gets the dead where they need to go and the living where they need to be.” – Thomas Lynch
7. Ritual is the best means of bringing people together

“A good funeral is not static. The first great necessity of death is to move the body of the deceased from here to there, that is, from the place of death to the place of final disposition. In most places around the world, and throughout most of human history, carrying the body of the deceased to the grave or the fire or the mountain, weeping or singing, mourning and praying along the way, is not done before the funeral or after the funeral – it is the funeral.” Thomas Long

Fire & Water

Posted by John Porter

I am an archer. I am a funeral celebrant. The last funeral I facilitated was of Thelma, my archery coach. She used to coach the British archery team many years ago. The chairman of Tonbridge Archers led the tribute and, much to everyone’s surprise (he was renowned for “going on at length” at meetings) stuck to his five minutes – pretty important to avoid crematorium fines! When he had finished I said: “… even when Thelma was sick she used to come and watch us practice and she could spot a poor release of an arrow at a long distance – ‘what kind of release do you call that – pathetic’.”  she would often say about my performance. Some reacted negatively to her criticisms but I accepted them. She was right. My release was very poor.

Watching a scene from Game of Thrones provoked this blog contribution. Someone has died. He is laid in a boat garnished with sword, shield and kindred flag. Kindling straw and pots of some kind of accelerant are added to ensure it’s a good show.

A young archer steps forward, nocks a large black arrow bound with twine at the top of the shaft and dips it in the fire before drawing. It is a very dramatic and emotional moment. The arrow flies towards the dead person’s boat, now steadily drifting away along the water.

He misses. He shoots another lighted arrow with a deeper draw as the boat is further away. He misses again. My heart goes out to him as I too have missed the target many times. I know that look. The squint is to hide embarassment and ponder how to get it right next time – mind you he does have a king standing behind him. I had Thelma sat on a chair 20 yards away. It’s still scrutiny!

An older archer steps forward, snatches the bow from the young archer, lights the arrow and draws deeply and aims high towards the distant boat. He looks to the flag to see what the wind is doing before releasing the flaming messenger. The younger archer watches, still smarting from his two failed attempts to seal the ceremony.

The archer does not bother to see if it reached its target. He knew his arrow had found its mark.

It had.

I love the drama of this scene. I feel for the younger archer. I remember Thelma. I did my best to make Thelma’s event meaningful and positively memorable but, oh, how I would have loved to have stood on the dock and released a perfect arrow towards her dead body on a dressed raft of some kind. Fire and water. Life and death. Health and safety. The modern crematorium offers little opportunity for high drama. Sanitised and hidden. Pity. Flaming arrows aside, I know we can create better ceremonies. Let’s share ideas here.

Mother of all swear words

Posted by Wendy Coulton

Recently I had a dilemma in that a funeral I was planning and conducting was for someone who was known among their close friends for using the expletive C*** (C U Next Tuesday) with affection and as a genuine term of endearment.

I winced when I heard this because it is the mother of all swear words and I shuddered at the thought of having my mouth washed out with soap if I cursed (a threat my mother made when I was a child). But equally I understood and respected that it wasn’t regarded as offensive within the tight knit social circle of the deceased.

I knew that I would not myself be able to say the C word as an individual with my own values and also in my professional capacity as a funeral celebrant.

The friends were rallying their support by producing the Order of Service and they wanted to include this particular word on it. When I spoke to the mother of the deceased to research the tribute I became increasingly uncomfortable that her generation of the family could be offended by this language and I shared my concern diplomatically with the friend who was organising the Order of Service.

The friend was very gracious and acknowledged the point I raised. They came up with their own compromise which I thought worked brilliantly. A differently worded version of the Order of Service was produced for the family mourners and another with the C word in it was produced and handed out to friends who attended the service.

A question of timing

It can’t be easy writing episodes for soaps. You have to take over a plot designed by a committee and steer your characters through the storyline as plausibly as you can. Sometimes you have to get rid of them, a procedure known as ‘killing off’. You mostly don’t have to actually do them in, you can just send them miles away. But rather more often than in real life, in order to rule out the prospect of the character’s reappearance under any circs, you have to murder them, often foully.

EastEnders is the soap responsible for killing off more characters than any other – so much so that the cast will soon be joined, appropriately enough, by a full-time undertaker, Les Coker.

A fortnight ago, Holby City killed off a young nurse, Bonnie Wallis. The scriptwriters knocked her down with a lorry. Outrageously implausible, but essential to tell viewers: she ain’t coming back.

The following week the cast was given the invidious task of going through the motions of grieving. Who’d be an actor? Who’d be a scriptwriter?

In the event, they made a good fist of it, especially the scriptwriters. In the non-denom chapel at the hospital a memorial event was led by (who else?) lovely, cuddly Eliot Hope, senior CT surgeon. He began in the appropriate, formal, biographical style:

“Our colleague, our friend, Bonnie Wallis, ermm, was a truly great spirit. She was loved by her family, who tell me she overcame great obstacles—”

He broke off and said this:

“Sorry, um, these are someone else’s words. I suppose I was so afraid of insulting her memory. But, the truth is, it’s too soon – it’s too soon for her to go. Give me a year and I will write her a cracking speech. But right now, how can I possibly talk about her life in the past tense? I keep expecting her to come through that door.”

A little later, sitting on the ‘altar table’, Eliot is seen regaling the mourners with anecdotes about Bonnie:

“I remember one day Bonnie had to give an elderly patient a bath. She’d just removed his gown and he looked down and said, ‘Have you ever seen anything so big?’ So, slightly embarrassed and red-faced, she said, ‘Very impressive.’ And he said, ‘I was talking about my boil.’”

It was well and sensitively done because it identified a problem with funerals and memorial events. Timing. When’s the right time to have a funeral or a memorial service? Most funerals, especially for people who have killed themselves, happen too soon – too soon for anyone to be able to make any sense of what happened, too soon for people still just beginning to get their heads around what happened. The same with tragic, sudden deaths, especially those of young people.

“Give me a year … right now, how can I possibly talk about her life in the past tense?”

What do you want at your funeral?

Guest blogger RR writes today for ‘the silent majority of consumers’.

With the plethora of funeral options, some people choose to give their own send-off advance thought and leave instructions to their next of kin. This brief survey aims to focus the mind on some of the boxes that might need to be ticked. If answering this questionnaire, feel free to give additional comments. For example, if you want music at your funeral, and already have specific favourites, do share…

1 Have you been involved in planning a funeral before?
Yes
No

2 Did the dead person leave instructions for the funeral?
Detailed
Partial

No

3 Do you intend to leave instructions for your own funeral?
Detailed

Partial
No

4 What are your preferences for the ‘disposal’ of the body?
Cremated
Buried
Donated to medical science
Other

5 Where do you want your funeral to take place?
Church
Crematorium
Church and crematorium
Woodland burial ground
Alternative venue
At home
Direct cremation with no funeral service

6 Who do you want to officiate at your funeral?
Religious celebrant
Humanist celebrant
Civil/secular celebrant
Family member
Friend
Noone

7 Which of the following do you want included in the funeral service?
Full religious liturgy
Exclusively secular format
Mix of religious and secular
Eulogy/address
Hymns
Prayers
Poems
Bible readings
Secular readings
Classical music
Contemporary music
Moment of silence
Collective call-out of memories

8 How do you want funeral guests to dress?
Black
Colourful
Specific theme
Formal
Casual
Anything goes

9 What are your coffin or urn design preferences?
Traditional
Modern
Wood
Wicker
Cardboard
Metal
Natural
Colourful
Plain
Decorative
Other (eg cloth shroud)

10 What transport do you want to your funeral?
Traditional hearse
Horse-drawn carriage
Alternative hearse (eg motorbike and sidecar)
Own transport
Other

11 Who do you want to carry the coffin at the service?
Undertakers’ pallbearers
Family and friends
Other

12 Do you plan a committal ceremony after the funeral?
Graveside (burial of coffin or urn)
Scattering of ashes
No committal
Other

13 Do you plan a memorial service or gathering some time after the death/funeral/committal?
Yes
No
Maybe

14 If your body/ashes are to be buried, how do you want the resting place commemorated?
Headstone
Plaque
Planted tree

No marker of the spot
Other
Not applicable

15 Do you plan to budget in advance for your funeral?
Specific funeral plan financial product
Regular financial product (eg ISA)
Instructions in a will for the next of kin
Agreement with next of kin to cover costs
No plan
Other

16 How much do you envisage spending on your funeral?
Up to £1,000
£1,000-£5,000
£5,000-£10,000
Over £10,000

17 Which of the following do you want at your funeral?
Big turnout of family, friends and aquaintances
An intimate gathering
Funeral venue hire
Social venue hire
Celebrant
Transport
Service sheet
Flowers/wreaths
Burial site
Memorial stone or plaque
Musicians and choir/singers
Food and drink
Catering staff and waiters
Photography
Memorial slide/video screen
Candles
Other

18 Before the funeral, where do you want your body to rest?
Cold storage in hospital/undertaker’s morgue
At home
No preference
Other

19 What are your preferences for viewings of the body at a vigil or wake?

Closed coffin
Open coffin
Neither
Other

20 If viewings are welcomed, which options do you prefer?

Visit to undertakers’ chapel of rest
Viewable any time at home
Embalmed body
Temperature-controlled, un-embalmed body
Other

And…
21 Do you believe in some form of life of the soul after death?

Yes
No
Maybe

Being A Man

Posted by MC

I am not a new man, according to my wife. To qualify as someone who is even slightly in touch with his feminine side, I would have to empty the kitchen bin. Without being asked.

It’s not an especially good time to be a man. I knew we were in trouble when I saw the latest Southbank event being advertised. It’s called, BEING A MAN.

On a recent news item, someone said that on average two women a week are killed by a current or former male partner. Statistics on male violence in the UK and around the world make distressing reading. After watching Ross Kemp’s TV programme Extreme World about Papua New Guinea earlier this week, I fervently wished that I could have un-watched it. Men did not come out of it well. Even more tragically, nor did the women.

But in the UK, you’re far more likely to die from causes other than diseases (like suicide and road traffic accidents) if you’re a man. Chances are, if you’re attending the funeral of your spouse, you’re a woman.

According to my wife, this means that (yet again) she’s going to be left with all the organising to do. Even though I’ve told her countless times to put me out with the rubbish.

Which is why I’m disappointed with the Coronation Street writers. Not because I’m a funeral celebrant (although Suzie the scary humanist did make me cringe) but because I’m a man.

Now Roy strikes me as a good male role model: hard-working, loyal and kind. Not that I’ve ever watched this programme until recently, or any soap for that matter. I’m watching for professional reasons only. And I’m hoping that Roy is going to get a grip and do us proud.

C’mon Roy! Hayley’s given you a list of instructions. What more do you want?