Four Funerals

By Marcy Stenstrom

      I went to another funeral last month. I’ve gone to several funerals in the past two years; more than in my entire life thus far. One thing I’ve noticed is that we are all afraid of death. We are afraid of seeing it up close and dealing with our emotions and the permanency of it all. Some of us are angry. It’s not fair; why did this happen? In truth we will all die. I admit that just a few years ago, I hated going to funerals. I felt so awkward and out of place. I didn’t know what to say or what to do. The people, the atmosphere and the smells made me feel so uncomfortable. At my Grandfather’s funeral two years ago, I finally realized it’s not about me. It’s not about what to say because you don’t have to say anything. Just giving a person a hug says a thousand silent words. Just being there, sitting and praying means that you cared about the person and you care about their family. It’s that simple. Yet it’s also the most emotionally painful part of life that I can think of.

      My Uncle died just over a year ago. His wishes were to be cremated and have his ashes scattered. I remember years ago talking with his wife about death and being buried. She could not stand the thought of being put into a casket in the ground with worms and other creepy crawlers doing their natural work of decomposition to the flesh. I never understood why people seem more afraid of this thought than of what could happen to their soul if they refuse to live by Christ’s example here on Earth. My Grandmother allowed the cremation of her son which is in accordance to the church (see CCC 2301) but would not allow his remains to be scattered. He rests beside my Grandfather.

      At my Grandmother’s funeral this year, the priest called death a celebration. Just as in birth we are excited and blessed to welcome a life into this world, so too in death do we celebrate the exit from this world of sin and pain and suffering and welcome the soul into a new world, a perfect kingdom with God. I think this is where death pushes our boundaries and comfort zones and really begs the questions: What do I believe? Where is my faith? How’s my relationship with God? Can I truly celebrate death?    

       At a friend’s funeral I went to last month, I was feeling judgmental and wondering why more of our high school classmates hadn’t attended the visitation and service. I was wondering what was so much more important in their lives that day. “We are a culture of death”. This can be heard on the radio and is demonstrated throughout the popular media. We are obsessed with cop shows like CSI, bloody hospital dramas, murder mysteries and gory horror movies. Even the nightly news programs display gruesome and graphic real-life homicidal victims. Yet when we are face to face with our mortality, our relationship with God, the end of this life, we push it away and run and hide. I don’t think that this social culture is so different from the shame of Adam and Eve.

      Death is indeed a celebration of new life with our God because we are still part of the mystical body.  St. Simeon of Thessalonica and Byzantine tradition offers us hope; “For even dead, we are not at all separated from one another, because we all run the same course and we will find one another again in the same place. We shall never be separated, for we live for Christ, and now we are united with Christ as we go toward him…we shall all be together in Christ.” (CCC 1690) So let’s change our cultural views of death. Go to a funeral.