I am the Rector of two of the three churches in the world dedicated to St Hybald, one of which (Hibaldstow) contains his remains. This blog is mainly for my monthly parish magazine articles.

Disclaimer: Calling myself "Hybald's Rector" does not imply that St Hybald would agree with everything I say!!

Showing posts with label funeral. Show all posts
Showing posts with label funeral. Show all posts

Saturday, 11 November 2023

Two minutes silence or two minutes applause?

Here's my article for the November magazines:




I'm often asked if I get nervous before taking services, to which I honestly reply that I very rarely do except for being perpetually worried about getting people's names wrong at weddings, baptisms and funerals!

However, one service I do get nervous about is the Remembrance Service, partly because of the solemnity of the day and also the complexity of the service, involving many different people, but mostly because of the two-minutes silence.  This seemingly simple element of the service presents a multitude of potential disasters.  Firstly, there's the matter of timing the silence for 11.00am: there can be many things of variable length happening before the silence; processions, wreath-laying, roll call, the Last Post, etc..  This matter of timing is made worse if there is a clock nearby (which may or may not be right!) and also phones or watches beeping the hour.  Generally people don't mind if the timing of the silence is out, but there are some who will vocally and forcefully complain if it is not precise.  Then there is the matter of timing the length of silence itself: who is doing it? do you give the signal to the bugler in time for them to start at the end of the two-minutes, or at the end and risk having a slightly longer silence?  And then there's the nervousness about the silence itself – what if someone shouts something out during it?  I'm getting panicky just thinking about it!

The two-minutes silence for Remembrance originated in Cape Town, South Africa in 1918 but the idea reached Britain in time for the first anniversary of the signing of the armistice in 1919 and has remained a permanent feature of Remembrance services ever since.  Observing a silence to remember those who have died has also become commonplace for local, national and international purposes, particularly at sporting events.  Silences are very useful for public observances because they contain no statements or assumptions concerning beliefs: people can use that time to pray or meditate or reflect as they see fit.

However, a time of silence is increasingly being replaced by a time of applause.  This may have pragmatic reasons, e.g. it avoids the problem of people jeering during a silence, but it may also reflect a wider cultural shift.  Funerals, although called such for simplicity, are increasingly entitled on the order of service “A service to celebrate the life of...”; replacing mourning the death of someone with thinking about their life.  Whilst it is certainly beneficial to recall memories of those who have died, it seems to me that this shift is partly due to a loss of clarity about what happens after death.  If we are silent in the face of death we might be confronted with the fear of the unknown, so we drown it out with applause and celebration.

For those who believe and trust in Jesus there is the promise of eternal life with him (John 3:16), and so there is no fear in being silent in the face of death.  Death is sad but it is no longer an enemy: it is a friend that ushers us into the joy and pleasure that lasts forever.

Tuesday, 22 November 2022

Is death really nothing at all?

Here is my November article:

Henry Scott Holland (1847-1918) [Source: www.commons.wikimedia.org/]



November is traditionally a month where we recall those who have died, possibly because of All Saints day at the beginning of the month, but more probably because the days are getting darker, the weather is getting worse, the plants around us are dying back. We have a fascination with death, as is demonstrated by the 'going viral' of my friend, Dr Allan Barton's niche YouTube videos on various burial customs, particularly royal ones.

This year we have thought about death quite a lot; there are still the consequences of the pandemic and of course we have had the death of Queen Elizabeth II. The sermon preached by the Archbishop of Canterbury at Her Late Majesty's funeral has been lauded by many people, and it reminded me of another sermon preached after a monarch's death that is very famous, even if its origin isn't.

At St Paul's Cathedral in May 1910 before the Lying in State of King Edward VII, Canon Henry Scott-Holland delivered a sermon titled “Death, the King of Terrors.” This sermon contained words that have become one of the most frequently used poems at funerals, usually called “Death is nothing at all” which expresses a belief in the continuity of the relationship between the deceased and the mourner. However, this was not the message Scott-Holland was trying to get across in his sermon.

Instead he was contrasting two views of death: “First there is the familiar and instinctive recoil from it as embodying the supreme and irrevocable disaster…Nothing leads up to it, nothing prepares for it. It simply traverses every line on which life runs, cutting across every hope on which life feeds…It makes all we do here meaningless and empty…” This is the view of “the terror of the unknown, the terror of loss, the terror of finality.” The second view is that expressed by “Death is nothing at all”, that talks of “the trick played us by seeming death. It is not death; nobody is dead...Everything that we cared for and loved exists...Nothing that we see in this dead material now laid out under our eyes represents or involves or includes the thing that was or is alive.”

The first view of death is what an honest atheist should have: if we are mere accidents of atomic collisions and chance events then death is final and ultimately makes life meaningless. The second view is that of those who feel that there is more to life than the materialist atheist view, but in the absence of a reasoned religious belief wishfully hopes that what we value continues beyond death.

Scott-Holland contrasts these two approaches to death: “the mood of violent recoil” and “the mood of quiet continuity” and then says “Our task is to deny neither judgement, but to combine both. The contrasted experiences are equally real, equally valid.” We need to avoid the trap of either despair or denial in the face of the the fact of death, as well as acknowledge the truth behind both experiences.

This is only possible through Jesus' death and resurrection, which guarantees both the defeat of the finality of death and the possibility of the continuity of eternal life. But in order for this to happen we must undergo death ourselves; not physical death but putting to death the sins which make us spiritually dead, by repenting and allowing the Holy Spirit to breathe new life into us. As Jesus promises: “Those who believe in me will live, even though they die; and those who live and believe in me will never die.” (John 11:25-26).

Tuesday, 25 October 2022

Harvest Thanksgivings - not just for food

Here's my article for October:



Harvest is a time for thanksgiving - across the country churches and schools will gather for services which focus on being thankful for the world, and especially for the food we eat, those who produce it and also God who is ultimately responsible for it. It is quite right to give thanks to God for the gift of creation and all the ways he blesses us through the natural world. But it's not just the created world that we need to remember to be thankful for, we also need to be thankful for each other.

During the worst months of the pandemic we got used to being thankful for the NHS and other 'key workers' but this year our thankfulness has mainly been focused on one person: Her Late Majesty, Queen Elizabeth II. Earlier in the year we joyfully celebrated her Platinum Jubilee and there were many books, speeches, articles, videos and programmes talking about 'Our Faithful Queen' and giving thanks for her 70 year reign. In our Jubilee celebration service we thanked God “for the example of loving and faithful service which she has shown among us” and prayed that he would help us to “follow her example of dedication and to commit our lives to you and to one another.” We also observed that she herself “follows the example set for her, reminding us that 'God sent his only Son “to serve, not to be served”. He restored love and service to the centre of our lives in the person of Jesus Christ.' ” Then, last month, we recalled with thanksgiving her life of dedication and service as we mourned her death.

An important part of many funerals is the eulogy where the life of the deceased is recalled, and there is often a time of reflection where all those present can silently recall their own memories. I usually introduce this time of reflection by suggesting that the congregation thank God for the person who has died and also thank God for the way that God has blessed us through that person. As we mourned the death of Queen Elizabeth, so much was said about the effect that she had, not only on those who met her, but also on the course of world events. An unlike a lot of her predecessors and some world leaders today, she did this not through revolutions, battles and invasions but often with a simple gesture: a handshake, a nod of the head, a laugh.

The simple gestures we make may not have historic, world-changing effects, but they can change the lives of those around us, even in ways we cannot see. The song “Thank You” by Ray Boltz imagines a scene in heaven where someone is shown the effect their life has. Some of the lyrics are: “One by one they came, far as the eyes could see. Each life somehow touched by your generosity. Little things that you had done, sacrifices made, unnoticed on the earth, in heaven now proclaimed.” It's sometimes said that it's a shame we don't hear our eulogies before we die, so perhaps this harvest time we could say thank you to someone who's touched our lives.

Tuesday, 4 April 2017

Speaking plainly about death



It's approaching the first anniversary of the death of our twins and with last Sunday's Gospel reading and the recent documentary by Rio Ferdinand, death is on my mind.

The reading set for last Sunday was John 11:1-45, and is the account of the raising of Lazarus from the dead. Lazarus and his sisters Mary and Martha are close friends of Jesus and when Lazarus falls ill, his sisters naturally call on Jesus to come to help. Jesus doesn't go immediately but waits a couple of days before setting out. In the meantime Lazarus dies, so when Jesus eventually arrives both Mary and Martha greet him with a mixture of grief, anger and accusation: "If only you had been here sooner this would not have happened!" Anger can often be a part of grief, and particularly anger towards God: "Why did you let this happen?" "If only you had done..." Mary and Martha's friendship with Jesus didn't protect them from the sorrows, worries and difficulties of life but it did allow them to be completely honest with him about how they felt, and at the same time to trust that he knew best. The worship sing that we held on to during our grief was Matt Redman's 'Blessed be your name', which talks of trusting God in the good times and in the bad times. It includes words from the Bible often heard at funerals: "You give and take away, my heart will choose to say 'Lord, blessed be your name.'" (Job 1:21)

Something else that struck me from the story of Lazarus was the discussion between Jesus and the disciples.
After [Jesus] had said this, he went on to tell them, ‘Our friend Lazarus has fallen asleep; but I am going there to wake him up.’ His disciples replied, ‘Lord, if he sleeps, he will get better.’ Jesus had been speaking of his death, but his disciples thought he meant natural sleep. So then he told them plainly, ‘Lazarus is dead' (verses 11-14)
Jesus talks about Lazarus 'falling asleep' but the disciples misunderstand and assume that Lazarus is in some sort of coma state. So Jesus had to spell it out plainly "Lazarus is dead." This interaction reminded me of the language we often use about death and what that tells us about how we view death.

We use euphemisms such as 'fallen asleep', 'passed on/away/over', 'shuffled off this mortal coil' (I'll resist the temptation to go into Month Python's 'Dead Parrot sketch'!), partly to avoid facing the finality of death. "Lazarus is dead" said Jesus. Full stop. End of. (Well sort of!) One of the reasons Jesus delayed going to Mary and Martha's was to show that Lazarus really was dead. In Rio Ferdinand's recent documentary 'Being Mum and Dad' one of the widowed fathers said how important it was for him to use the words 'death' and 'killed' when talking to his children about their mother. Bereaved children often get confused with abstract language and euphemisms, and saying thing's like “they've gone away” or “they've fallen asleep” may lead to the child being afraid of holidays and bedtime. Children can usually cope a lot better with the 'blunt truth' whereas it's us adults that can't, often because we struggle to come to terms with the loss.

Our reluctance to let go of loved ones who have died also shows itself in beliefs about what happens after death. Aside from the theologically incorrect belief that we become angels after death (see one of my previous blogposts), there are the common beliefs that stars, robins, feathers, crisp packets (as Peter Kay parodies in his 'Live at the Top of the Tower' show) are proof that dead loved ones are watching over us or otherwise with us. Such thoughts are also evident in the poems often read out at funerals. A very popular one 'Do not stand at my grave and weep' says “I am a thousand winds that blow. I am the diamond glint on snow...Do not stand at my grave and cry. I am not there, I did not die!”

These beliefs are not only untrue and fanciful but also deeply unhelpful in the grief process. This seems counter-intuitive as they bring comfort to the bereaved, but in reality they show a reluctance to let go of a dead loved one and a reluctance to admit that they really have gone.

Of course religious belief has a large influence on common attitudes to death. Most religious systems teach some sort of afterlife, although Buddhism is one of the few belief systems that in which the ultimate aim is non-existence, or annihilation. Even secular and humanist funerals tend to shy away from the logical conclusion of their beliefs. It is rare to hear a secular or humanist funeral celebrant stating boldly that the person has died and is now no more than a load of atoms that will eventually become part of something else. Instead, 'humanist' funerals often talk of the person having gone on a journey which usually involves being reunited with previously deceased loved ones.

Christianity too shares some responsibility for these false beliefs, particularly in Western culture, as it proclaims the belief in the resurrection to eternal life. Indeed the raising of Lazarus makes exactly that point. Even though Lazarus will die again, Jesus is demonstrating that death will be defeated by his own resurrection. So how can this circle be squared? How can death be both final and not final?

Well the first thing to remember is that the dead are truly dead, their mortal existence is finished and there is a no interaction between the living and the dead. But Jesus' resurrection proves that death no longer has the final word, life after death is now possible. However, Jesus is also clear that the resurrection to eternal life, although it is available to everyone, will not be the outcome for everyone: “Jesus said to her, ‘I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives by believing in me will never die” (John 11: 25-26).

This belief in Jesus is not merely believing that he existed, or that he was a holy man or even that he was the Son of God, even the Devil believes that! The belief that Jesus is talking about is the 'true and lively faith' that is the subject of one of the Church of England's official homilies or sermons. It states:
Living faith is not only believing in the articles of the creed. It is also a sure trust and confidence in the mercy of God, through our Lord Jesus Christ, and a steadfast hope of all good things to be received at God’s hand. And that although we, through infirmity or temptation by our spiritual enemy, do fall from him by sin, yet if we return again to him by true repentance that he will forgive and forget our offences, for the sake of his Son, our Saviour Jesus Christ.
This true and lively faith is trusting that God will forgive us when we truly repent, because Jesus died to take the punishment we deserve.  (For more on this go to Christianity Explored)

The belief in the resurrection to eternal life is the only true comfort for grief, as St Paul wrote “Brothers and sisters, we do not want you to be uninformed about those who sleep in death, so that you do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope. For we believe that Jesus died and rose again, and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him” (1 Thessalonians 4:13-14). So there are two types of grief: hopeless grief and hopeful grief. For those who die without a true and lively faith in Jesus there is no resurrection to eternal life, but “God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life” (John 3:16). The Christian funeral service proclaims this good news of the resurrection through belief in Jesus but doesn't say if this promise applies to the person who had died. (Although for some people we can be fairly sure based on a life of true faith or the merciful view of young and unborn children).

This is because we can never know for sure what the status of someone's relationship with God is, we do not know if they died in the faith of Christ or not. This too can be a comfort as until we die it is never too late to turn to God. The thief who hung on a cross next to Jesus was promised life in Paradise after he came to believe in Jesus (Luke 23:39-43). Jesus' parable of the workers in the vineyard (Matthew 20:1-16) reminds us that those who come to a true and lively faith in Jesus late in life are just as much heirs to the promise of eternal life as those who have had such a faith for the whole of their lives. The great hymn 'To God be the glory' rejoices that "the vilest offender who truly believes, that moment from Jesus a pardon receives."

Ultimately, what the funeral service reminds us is that although for the person who had died time has run out to respond to the invitation of Jesus to believe in him, our time has not yet run out. Therefore we pray “give us grace to use aright the time that is left to us here on earth to turn to Christ and follow in his footsteps in the way that leads to everlasting life."

So we need to speak plainly about death. We need to acknowledge that the dead person has gone and is only 'with us' through our memories of them and not through stars or breezes or crisp packets. And we need to be clear that eternal life is only given to those who have a true and lively faith in Jesus during their earthly life. If we don't grasp these truths, hard as they may be, then we may live in the false comfort that our loved ones are 'safe' and 'happy' and therefore with the false hope that we too will be safe and happy and reunited with them after our deaths, even if we don't have a true and lively faith in Jesus. And false comfort and false hope are no comfort and no hope at all; and will not lead us to eternal life.  But there is a hope.