Monday, September 24, 2007

remembering

Do all churches do this? Do all churches eulogize and remember a person as if he had been a perfect, faithful, believing member? Even when he hadn't been to church since he was old enough to tell his parents, "I ain't goin' "? Do they all pick songs to sing at the funeral that the deceased probably didn't recognize, let alone like?

"Rebellion" and swearing and alcoholism and bar fights and no-mission and no-temple are all rendered "free spirit" and "did things his own way," with a sideways smile. They are, I suppose, trying their best to be nice and polite and remember the best of him. Which is fine. Who doesn't want to be remembered well? For people to forget the foibles and faults. But foibles and faults according to whom? The deceased? Sure, I'd bet he'd admit he did some stupid things in his life, that there were some things that he'd not repeat if he had the chance.

But to judge him according to the tenants of Mormonism when he didn't even care for them in his lifetime? To give more time in the funeral to the plan of salvation and Mormon hymns than to a sketch of his life, a portrait of his charcater? It just feels unfair and conceited.

I found myself at the funeral, looking at the program, with Jesus on the front, and five Mormon hymns listed inside, obviously picked for their content and not for the deceased's preference, wondering how I would handle this. Should I sing along about knowing my redeemer lives and how I am a child of God, when I don't believe in either? Should I mouth that I stand all amazed, when I don't? Does it really matter? I was standing next to my sister, the one who knows I'm a secularist, deciding whether to sing or silently protest the singing.

It struck me, as I watched others, particularly my parents, sing, that these songs bring them comfort right now. They really do. And that I couldn't do anything then, at my uncle's goodbye, when my mother was grieving so much, to hurt her further. I couldn't have them look over and see me in my silent religious protest, my religious politics kniving them once again. And I thought, if I think of it as mythology, a story, the savior and the afterlife and all that, it could be kind of comforting in death, even as a myth--a world view, a paradigm. Humans in all of history have found some way of comforting themselves about death, about the reality of their own mortality. And my family sings these particular songs to do that. Okay. I can sing. And I sang.

Except during I Know My Redeemer Lives, I thought of my last post, about crying for the loss of Heavenly Mother and Heavenly Father who will never open their arms to me. And I thought about the readers who connected with me on that, who felt as I did. I thought about the people surrounding me, who didn't get me. I said that line in my head over and over and I cried behind my sunglasses (for we were singing at the graveside), and everyone thought I was crying for my uncle, who I never know and will never know. And I wondered, what would I want at my funeral?

10 comments:

Mai said...

Dear EFTA (a phoenix if ever there was one and that isn't pretentious, not one little bit).

Your heart is so big and true and loving and just plain GOOD, that whatever Supreme Being may exist, surely loves you far more than you can comprehend.

And if you come to the conclusion that there is no supreme being, you are still loved far more than you can comprehend.

So live and cry and feel and be who you are; you are enriching me mightily.

Thank you.

C. L. Hanson said...

I think I'd have a very hard time with that one. Even though a funeral is more for the comfort of the living, I feel like it would compound the sadness of the occasion to sing "He lives, and I shall conquer death," knowing that's just a fantasy. It seems more comforting to say something real about the person's actual lifespan.

hm-uk said...

We sang 'O What a Beautiful Morning' from the musical "Oklahoma" at my grandfather's funeral. He was a farmer in OK and was completely non-religious. We sang some religious songs for my grandmother who was religious, which comforted her, I think.
It's all about context, isn't it? I suppose I don't want songs with religious lyrics to be played at my funeral because I don't want people to associate them with the person that I wasn't. However, if push came to shove I would probably pick the song by Green Day, 'Good Riddance (Time of your Life).
I'd be interested to know what you'd want played at your funeral.

Robert said...

I must say anon comes across as fairly cruel with that latest post. Not even sure what his point was.

As for what I'd like done at my funeral, we did this exercise in my MBA program. I think most of my classmates probably wanted to be remembered for their amazing achievements in their career, but I basically said I wanted to be remembered as a good husband, father, son, friend, brother, and person. That was and is all that really matters to me about how I leave the world behind me. At the time I wasn't a father or a husband, either, but it was important to me that I have a family. I found it interesting how different my perspective was from many of my classmates. I have always wished that someone would play "Amazing Grace" on the bagpipes because the bagpipes have such an appropriate melancholy for a funeral, even when they play such a beautiful piece of music.

I believe I've written before on here about experiencing a funeral where the deceased was "honored" by having a preacher his chilren demanded, rather than one who actually knew him. The poor preacher was so lost for words he talked about a speeding teenager who passed him on the way there. He also talked about how much the man in the casket would be honored by having someone accept Christ at his funeral. I don't think I've ever attended a worse funeral. I definitely understand how disturbing it is to attend a funeral so disconnected from the person who died. In the end, the living have their say in how they want to be comforted, I suppose.

Rebecca said...

My dad wants us to have a big party for his funeral, and his one song request is "Shout." I definitely intend to honor that - it says so much more about my dad than a typical funeral would.

from the ashes said...

I feel inadequate to your praise, Mai, but thank you. You remind me of my mom's favorite line from The Count of Monte Cristo, when the future count says he doesn't believe in god. Priest says, "Well, he believes in you." I don't believe in any sort of personal god, but the line is touching, nonetheless, knowing my mom means it to say she loves me.

Yes, the funeral was much more focused on seeing each other again in heaven throw Jesus' redemption than on the man and his life. As if it was Jesus' funeral.

I overheard a mother whisper to her son as he looked, scared, on the body, "Don't worry, that's just his body. His spirit will come back into his body and everything will be okay. So you don't have to be sad." In one sentence, erase mourning, render it unnecessary and even unfaithful.

hm-uk- I'll have to think about what I would want at my funeral. I haven't thought about it much. I have thought I would prefer either a green burial or a cremation to a regular burial, though. I prefer the thought of my body, cells, molecules, returned to the earth as quickly as possible. Rather than have my body encased in concrete then a coffin, full of chemicals that will leach into the soil and poison the earth.

I find comfort in the idea that, even though my consciousness will not live on, my physical body will always be and has always been part of the universe. Even if only in the form of hydrogen molecules.

from the ashes said...

Robert- I think I'd rather be known for my personal relationships, too, more than the letters after my name, so to speak. That said, I would still like to make an impact on the world for the better, too, beyond my personal relationships. Which is why, I suppose, I've chosen the career path I have.

Rebecca- I think everyone would remember your father's funeral with fondness, as well as your father. I would much prefer a funeral that reminded people of me than one that reminded people of god.

Sister Mary Lisa said...

Great thoughts here. I am now thinking of what I'd like my funeral to be like. If I even have one.

Diane Lowe said...

Wow. This is a great post!

Funerals *are* supposed to be more about the still-living and their grieving process. The dead person probably doesn't care that much; well, they might care because they're dead!

I don't know your family, but if it was myself at my own relative's funeral, I probably would not have sung the songs, because those songs, when put into the context of the person's life, do nothing to make *me* feel better.

I'm not saying, "I'm right, you're wrong", or vice versa. You did what you thought would be socially appropriate, and that was the best decision for you.

I don't think people really "get" the deceased. Maybe a few of their closest friends/family, but as a whole, people know very little about each other. How I appear to you is one facet of how I am, and how I appear to my parents/friends/lovers/etc. is another facet.

So in all of that, right now (at the ripe young age of 24), I don't care too much about what goes on at my funeral. I'm not going to be there to say goodbye to myself.

Robert - Wow! That's incredible! Although I think most of the students were probably in a game of "impress the prof" than being seriously honest about what they wanted to be remembered for. If I had a choice, I think "Amazing Grace" would be one of the hymns I'd like to have at my funeral.

from the ashes said...

diane- I totally understand you coming to a different conclusion on what you would've done. I could have easily decided not to sing, too. I see both ways.