Dear members and friends of Redeemer,
Earlier this week, I was helping a parishioner update their funeral plans. Scriptural readings. Altar flowers. Hymns. Ushers. All the things we put off for a later date, because thinking about no longer being here on earth is not something that makes us particularly warm and fuzzy. But it is an integral part of our faithfulness, both to ourselves and to those we leave behind.
There is a kind of clarity that comes from naming what you want said over you, what hymns should carry your family through that hour, what scripture should be read into a room full of emotions. Despite how morbid it might feel, it is stewardship.
The Psalmist prayed, “So teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom” (Psalm 90:12). I think of funeral planning as one small way we practice that numbering. Not because we know when our days will end, but because naming our mortality out loud, on paper, in conversation with a priest, is itself an act of wisdom. It takes something we would rather not look at and puts it in the light.
While looking through funeral documents, I found the late Rev. Robert “Bob” P. Patterson’s (Redeemer’s eighth rector) write-up on his own funeral suggestions. He began this way:
“For years I have helped grieving spouses and/or children plan a funeral or memorial service, and know the strain and bewilderment which sometimes add to their burden as they try to do what they think or hope the deceased person wanted. Also, for years I have counseled and taught people to write down suggestions they hope will be honored, and when this has occurred, the relief and gratitude of the family is obvious.”
Rev. Bob had seen both sides up close, in this same parish, long before I arrived: the bewilderment of families left to become detectives of their loved one’s wishes, and the relief of those who did not have to. That is the burden a funeral plan lifts.
Making a funeral plan ahead of time is an opportunity to think through what matters most and how those things evolve over a lifetime – and gives you the opportunity to review and revise as your life changes. What mattered to you at forty may not be what matters at seventy. The hymn you would have chosen in grief for a parent may not be the hymn you want sung over you now. A plan is not a monument. It can change as you change. That is part of its gift.
It does not solve the immediate pain a family feels. But it does offer them a balm: one less thing to guess at, one less “I think this is what they would have wanted” spoken through tears. It lets a family grieve without also having to piece together, in the space of a few days, a celebration of an entire life.
Sometime in the first half of the program year, be on the lookout for a Redeemer funeral planning seminar. In the meantime, if you would like to meet and think through your funeral plans, I or any of the clergy, along with Bert Landman, would be happy to meet with you. Write down what matters. You can always revise it later. What you leave behind is not only a list of hymns and readings. It is a comforting and thoughtful gift to your loved ones designed to meet them precisely when they most need it.
Blessings,