On Lutheran funerals and other rituals

I am including here parts of note from Anni about the Lutheran funeral service.

"There is something reassuring about those kinds of formal rituals, I
find. But then the Lutheran funeral is always the same, always very
formal, everybody dressed in black, the music consists of hymns only
etc.

"It is about participating (the dust to dust bit), isn't it? That is the
bit I remember from the funerals in my childhood - first the priest
takes his little shovel, and drops some earth on the coffin, three
times. The Finnish translation is slightly more concrete, it goes "From
Earth you have come, to Earth shall you again return. Jesus Christ the
Saviour will wake you up on the last of days."

And then the family and friends do the same thing after him, one by one."

*****

Anni added this note: "I remember my shock when I attended my first Anglican funeral service in Sydney a few years back, and there were people dressed in pink, and they played Dean Martin when the coffin was carried out from the church. I just wasn't used to that sort of thing and kept thinking how shocked my Mum would have been!"

*****

My family didn't go that far. We stuck with recognised hymns, but rather than playing a dirge, we finished with the Schubert "Ave Maria". I accept that, strictly speaking, it is not a natural fit with the liturgy. But, it left everybody feeling pretty calm, and uplifted.

Someone suggested "Amazing Grace", but I just asked: "Have you ever listened to the words"?
Apparently it was sung at the funeral of Ronald Regan. I say no more!

Incidentally, I vividly remember a funeral of a friend, who was an avid "Aussie Rules" supporter. His family sent him off to the sounds of "Up there Cazaly". This song became the unofficial anthem of Aussie Rules Football. But the lyrics are strangely appropriate, when you examine the chorus:

<>
"Up there Cazaly, in there and fight

Out there and at 'em, show 'em your might

<>Up there Cazaly, don't let 'em in

Fly like an angel, you're out there to win

"Up there Cazaly, you're out there to win

In there and at 'em, don't let 'em in

Up there Cazaly, show 'em you're high

Fight like the devil, the crowd's on your side"

I'm sure that would have scandalised Anni's Mum.

But I knew the guy concerned, and his family, and it went over well!

Dust to dust

"Ashes to ashes; Dust to dust."

I am grateful to Anni for reminding me of the symbolism of the sprinkling of "dust" over the coffin. I had interpreted it simply as an "inclusive" act, to be part of the burial.

This phrase, or variants of it appear in the funeral service of the Anglican Church (in the "Book of Common Prayer") and the Catholic funeral liturgy. Anni informed me that this little ritual is a traditional inclusion in the Lutheran funeral service as well. We are dealing with traditions here which are deeply buried in our European culture. (Sorry about the pun!)

The phrase: “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” (or variants of it) is also a familiar expression which is used in the Ash Wednesday service.

What a bleak world view we have inherited! No wonder we try to make the best we can of these rituals.

This week's experience was the "real world" view of a Requiem. Perhaps next week, I shall turn up the volume and give Mozart and Berlioz a work out.

PS: I nearly posted a link to several useful reference sites, but I feel uneasy about promoting any religious site on this blog. If you wish to find out more, test your favourite Search Engine.

Saying Goodbye to my Mother

Dad was impatient to be up and dressed this morning - worried that he would be late (as if!).

The rest of us tried to keep things calm, perhaps privately dreading the inevitable tears, and hoping that they would remain more-or-less private. And I write that, having yesterday published the Graeme Connors text. Anyway, I guess I can acknowledge that we all choked up at various points, but we got through the formal processes of the day.

The Requiem Mass was modest, but with nice hymns, appropriate readings and prayers. Importantly, many, many people came to pay their last respects to Mum and to express their support to Dad and the rest of the family. There was a good crowd of people, including friends and relations, including many visitors from Melbourne, Sydney and Brisbane. It was great to meet again some people who I had not seen in 40+ years.

I was worried that Dad would "lose it" when Mum was buried, but he was very dignified. Once Mum's body had been lowered, those who wished to, added a symbolic scoop of gravel, as our participation in the burial process. To me this simple ritual allowed me to participate in the actual interment process, making it seem more real, less clinical, and closer to my heart. Today I helped bury my Mother, with dignity.
Interestingly, some of the great-grandchildren added some little rainbow coloured "sparkles" (star-shaped tinsel pieces), presumably to brighten Grandma's new world. A nice touch, which Nonie herself would have appreciated.

After the funeral we returned to the parish hall, where Dad met and talked with nearly everybody who attended the funeral. The rest of us got on with catching up with particular relatives and friends. The day went off as well as anyone could possibly have hoped for.

Mottos of Life and death

Well, there are lots of slogans which appear appropriate to my personal situation at present. For a brief period, Was tempted to adopt the Nike slogan: "Just Do It!"

For purely personal reasons, and not out of fear of impending lawsuits from the "suits" at Nike, I have decided to stick with my own personal motto:

"Love to Grow: Grow to Love"

On Thursday I was told that my Tumour has not been totally killed by last year's Chemotherapy. I could "wait and see", or I can opt for the aggressive Chemotherapy treatment, the so-called "Industrial Strength Chemo". I have decided to do that, rather than allow the Lymphoma any chance to build its strength back up. I am feeling fit enough to face that course of treatment at present.

It will be short and sharp, with 8 consecutive days of treatment, followed by re-implantation (via a process analogous to a blood transfusion) of the stem cells which were harvested from my blood, late last year.

I know I shall get sick in the process, but if it is as brief as they say, I will be glad to get it over with. So, it is myself I am wanting to "grow", not my tumour.

On Saturday afternoon, my Mother, Nonie Wilson, died peacefully, at a nursing home in Canberra, with her husband, Steve close by her side. They both moved into a Nursing Home late last year, when Mum's condition deteriorated. In fact she had been hospitialised for a while, made a minor recovery, but she was at a stage when no amount of "home care" could provide for her needs. Hence the Nursing Home.

Mum will be buried on Thurday morning, following a Requiem Mass at St Thomas the Apostle Church, Boddington Crescent, Kambah, ACT.

My parents were married for 67 years. Pretty amazing. They were totally loyal to each other throughout their long life together - through good times and bad, in sickness and in health.

She Loved to grow: She grew to Love.