I've just lead my second funeral during these pandemic days of social distancing and self-isolation. I can only imagine it's going to get harder. Let me fill you in on what normal used to look like.
The 'phone would ring and it would be the Funeral Directors asking me if I'm available with a date and time. An email with fuller details follows and I set a reminder on my computer to call the family. If there's a mobile number I'll send a text to let them know I'll be calling.
We arrange a visit (unless they are too far away to make it practical) and Put the data into my diary which these days automatically finds the address and shows me a map. I print out a file I have of possible readings, make sure I've got some business cards and power up the MacBook.
At the visit we go through the elements of a funeral and talk about what they would like to do. And, this is a key part, I get to meet the family and try to get a read of where they are emotionally and spiritually. Grief is not an easy journey to navigate and my job is to help make this part as easy as possible.
We meet at the crematorium or wherever the service is to be held and we greet one another. The service proceeds and at the end I shake everyone's hand. Sometimes you hold the hand a little longer because it's obvious they need that bit of extra assurance.
This is not a job for me, it's an expression of ministry, it's about being a representative of the kingdom in the midst of their sorrow and grief.
But now so much of this has changed. No visits, no face to face contact. I suppose we could use Skype or FaceTime or Zoom or some other video conferencing tool, but who has the time to set them all up and switch between them. So it's a telephone call, a series of emails, a nagging feeling that there's something missing.
You arrive at the crem to see what looks like a very large marquee erected in the main car park. I't not a marquee of course, it's a temporary mortuary. More signs that life is even more fragile in these days of escalating infection and deaths. No access to the office to check the music and chat to the chapel attendant.
The hearse pulls into the drive. No limousines, the family have had to make their own way there. You wonder who it is you've been talking to on the 'phone. you can't wander up to people and ask, you just have to hope that they will somehow make themselves known. Either that, or you'll have to ask form the front.
You start the service with an apology for not having been able to visit and for not be able to shake hands at the end of the service. It's not your fault of course, and everyone understands, but you still feel a pang of guilt that somehow you haven't served them well.
In the chapel all the service books have been put away. How do you say The Lord's Prayer without a book? From memory you say, but which version and whose memory? Uncle John wants to share a few memories. Okay, but what do you do if he touches the lectern? In a small chapel you might nt be able to get 2m away unless you open the back door and step outside!
Half a dozen mourners sit spread out in a 100 seat chapel. No handshakes at the end, just a nod from a safe distance. No time with the family around the flowers.
It feels so strange, and any spare thoughts you have ought rightly to go to the families who are having to say goodbye to someone they have loved in such a clinical and sterile way. But as I make my way home I can't help but feel that it's going to get harder. One fellow celebrant has stopped because his wife is in a high risk category and he feels it's the right thing to do. I agree with him.
So far I haven't be involved with a funeral for anyone who has died as a result of a Covid-19 infection, but I doubt it will be too long. As long as I feel safe and well I will continue to serve families to the best of my ability.
I'm not trying to suggest that as funeral celebrants we're being overlooked. We're not key workers. We don't need special recognition for what we do. I just wanted to share my thoughts.
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