Ten-Finger Exercises

How do we say our last goodbyes?

There are many ways to accomplish the same thing. It’s a sign of maturity to recognize this and mentally to allow that other people may be as ‘right’ as we are.

On one of my recent two-funeral days, I left a service for one of our patients who belonged to a very evangelistic church in order to attend a service in my own church for another patient, this time a friend.
As I started to describe the contrast, the pastor asked if the first service had provided any place for worship.

We, in our denomination, do tend to be snobs about worship. We revel in ancient prayers and stately hymns, eloquent words of invitation and forgiveness. In the English tradition we came from, we go about the business of worship “decently and in good order.”

I thought about the priest’s comment, and concluded that even the evangelical service had moments of worship, even though they were unlike ours. As a slide show flickered on a screen, showing pictures of the deceased at various ages and circumstances, the music was a song, unfamiliar to me, but uplifting in tune, a praise song. I’m sure that people would identify that music as worshipful. During the many testimonies about the woman’s life, the regular congregation kept up a murmuring assent, not unlike the hallelujahs heard in a black church. Over and over again, people said, “Yes, Jesus,” or “Praise you, Jesus,” or “Amen.” They were relating the parts of her life to blessings they had received from knowing her, or blessings that God had put shown forth in her life.

Now, if I haven’t lost my non-religious readers yet, I want to make a connection for them as well. No, I don’t think a secular funeral has elements of worship per se. I do think it recognizes the—for lack of a better word—holy moments/aspects of a persons life. I think that even non-religious people recognize that some events are extraordinary, that they transcend the mundane, and they feel awe, or joy, or thankfulness. The feelings don’t have to be aimed at a Higher Being. Awe is awe. Joy is joy. Thankfulness is thankfulness.

And grief is grief. No matter what a person believes about another life after this one, another chance to see the beloved, their death is a loss. The natural reaction to loss is grief.

We say that our funeral, or memorial service, is a “celebration of the life of” whoever the person was. We distinguish our services from the maudlin sharing of all the friends in public that exemplifies the fundamentalist and secular services. We keep ours “hopeful” and “positive.“

By contrast, a friend of mine, who has nothing positive to say about churches anyway, considers our service sterile and cold.

There’s an actual website whose motto is something like, “Put the Fun Back in Funerals.” It gives advice and suggestions for secular funerals. An example is to hold a ceremony for a golfer at the 9th hole and give out golf balls imprinted with the name of the deceased. I think that’s better than no service, and better than many. What do you think?