Lockdown - Small can be Beautiful

As I write, we are nearing the end of Coronavirus Lockdown, week 3. I continue to assist families in saying goodbye to their loved ones in the very best way they can.

Due to “social distancing” requirements and restrictions put in place by crematoria to safeguard staff and mourners, it is likely that funerals are attended only by the closest family members.

I’ve also conducted burials where the service has been held entirely at the graveside. Fortunately the weather has been kind so far.

Indoors, many families are taking up the offer of a live webcast that enables wider family and friends to join in via their computer or smartphone.

Whilst some are arguing that no funeral at all would be preferable to a small ceremony, I disagree.

This week I have witnessed very special moments of sorrow poured out, personal memories recalled, as close family and dearest friends have shared their thoughts and feelings as they came to say goodbye.

I was not alone in thinking it odd when the churches were so quick, not only to lock their doors to public worship, but also to private prayer, even before a blanket ban had been issued.  Some of us are strongly of the view that the online services and pre-recorded sermons that are being offered are not quite cutting it. They can seem clinical and impersonal; lacking warmth and intimacy at the very time we crave it. 

Likewise I was taken aback when the Good Funeral Guide - a website set up to encourage creativity and innovation among all involved in the delivery of funerals - hurried to the media calling for all funerals to be stopped. Instead they called for so-called “direct cremations.” That means no minister or celebrant, no service, no mourners. The deceased person is placed straight into the cremator. It is argued that the pain and distress caused by limiting numbers at ceremonies is causing incalculable pain, and that no service is better than a small one.

I’ve thought about this. I wonder whether the response tells us something about the underlying philosophy of much of the funeral celebrant movement that has become a more dominant force over the past few years. Celebrants promote themselves as an alternative to religious ministers on the one hand, or strictly humanist officiants on the other. The emphasis is on providing whatever a family would like - whether it be favourite rock tracks, multiple family and friends sharing tributes, poems or songs, chapels decorated with streamers, balloons and photographs, personalised coffins or caskets festooned with football scarves, woodland flowers and ribbons. This can all be lovely. Ministers like myself regularly take services that incorporate any or all of these things. But of course it doesn’t easily lend itself to the present situation.

From the messages and comments received after ceremonies I’ve conducted in the last couple of weeks, I am strongly gaining the impression that there are definite positives:

There is a deeply personal tone - even more so than previously - emerging in the tributes that I am asked to prepare or that are spoken by those present. When a large number of extended family and friends attend, the words spoken will perhaps inevitably be tailored for this audience. Under present limitations, there can now be an even greater intimacy in what is expressed. 

Families who have been cruelly denied the opportunity to be with their loved ones in the hospital or care home as they approached death are feeling the need to say things that they were unable to voice in those final hours. Even for those who wouldn’t profess to have an active religious faith, there is a belief that somehow, their partner or parent might sense and know these tokens of love.

Normal diplomatic sensitivities are minimised. So often families become concerned about the various people who “need a mention,” and may actually fear offending someone who really has no right to take umbrage. Surely it is the closest family who should be the sole focus of everyone’s love and concern.

Touches of creativity can still work wonders. This week we even had something close to a “drive-thru” ceremony. A self-isolating couple sat in their car directly outside the chapel, with speakers and TV screen enabling them to participate from the safety of their vehicle.

Then there is the almost inevitable wake. As with printed orders of services, elaborate floral tributes and even a release of doves, the reception is an expected feature of the funeral day. This can place formidable pressures upon a grieving partner or family - both financially (venues and caterers sometimes place a premium on funeral functions) and emotionally. Have we never viewed with alarm and pity the newly widowed spouse utterly drained of colour and energy as they sit in the corner next to a barely-touched plate of sandwiches and sausage rolls, having to make polite conversion to yet another “well-wisher”? No such functions are permitted under current lockdown rules - not even in the family home except for those who permanently reside there. Some may indeed breathe a sigh of relief.

There is currently much talk of arranging a memorial or thanksgiving occasion in a few months’ time. I am sure this will be a great opportunity for many. As a minister and celebrant I shall be more than willing to participate in these when asked. 

For some this may be combined with a formal interment of ashes.

My guess is that, whilst some would want an element of formality with spoken contributions, others will simply opt for a social occasion where stories and memories can be shared freely..

I wonder also whether there may also be families who decide against anything so specific. For them, the small and personal farewell that we are still able to provide will have fulfilled the immediate need. 

Whatever happens - and we hope and pray that the COVID-19 pandemic is soon behind us - the funeral still has a vital role to play . Let’s embrace the opportunity and make the ceremony as personal, intimate and loving as we can.