The Thing About Funerals

Funerals!

I go to a lot of funerals by virtue of my job - I'm a professional church musician. I play at maybe 30 or 40 each year.

Anyone who does what I do can offer their fair share of funeral horror stories, which rank right up there with wedding stories.

My "most embarrassing moment ever" as a Church employee happened at a funeral for a woman, an artist, who had died prematurely from cancer in her fifties. This was maybe 12 years ago in a previous parish, where part of my duty was to physically set up the church for the event (no longer, thank God).

So, most of the people are in their seats waiting, and I walk across the sanctuary area to make sure the ambo mike is switched on. The Paschal (Easter) Candle is in it's place in front of the altar and leaning up against it is a prized portrait of the deceased in an old fashioned frame. As I pass, my pants catch the corner of the frame, knocking it over and smashing the glass and cracking the frame. Collective intake of breath from the horrified mourners seated only yards away . . . sudden desire on my part to join the poor deceased in the casket.

Though I imagine that would not have helped any either . . .

Anyway, what brings funerals to mind is two recent ones we had. The first was a month ago for my colleague, Kathie Fuller, whom I 'll remember at greater length in a future post. This wonderful lady with whom I have worked for almost 10 years died after years of fighting cancer and heart disease. One of the biggest crowds we have ever had for a funeral filled the church, including 50 priests and two bishops. We also had a full choir and it was the perfect example of what a funeral should be - both a leave taking and a celebration. What a testament to a woman who devoted her whole life to the openhanded service of others. It was unbelievable how many people came out of the woodwork whose lives she had touched. Powerful!

Today we had a funeral of a different sort - terribly sad and tragic. The Polish lady (according to the newspapers) had committed suicide by throwing herself in front of a train, after suffocating her seven year old daughter at home. Apparently there was a custody battle going on with her common law partner, but equally apparently she was in a horrendous state of depression and anxiety to have been driven to such a terrible place. A very moderate crowd attended the bilingual Polish and English service.

Two white coffins were brought in. Having been to so many funerals over so many years, it can sometimes get very routine from my point of view (though I NEVER show that to a grieving family, for whom this is anything but routine) - one can get a bit numb to it all eventually. But there is something about the coffin of a child that grabs you right in the gut in a very primal way - especially in a case like this where her chance for a life was stolen from her so tragically by her own parent. I say that without judgement - that's God's job and it is what it is.

I guess the thing about funerals is that though they sometimes may FEEL routine, they never really are! Part of the addiction of my work is how I get to be a part of the most powerful moments in peoples lives, and through my ministry as a liturgist and musician I get to help put a shape, structure, sense of meaning on the chaos for them. At least that is what I attempt to do. Now, maybe some are oblivious, but maybe others are helped.

I guess the thing is to try. To be even allowed to try is humbling when you remember the context of what has brought people together in such circumstances, whether it is the joy of a long life well and truly lived, or the unnecessary tragedy of lives destroyed prematurely by hopelessness and despair.

It's why we church musicians sing "How Can I Keep From Singing?"

Sometimes it's all we can do!