Tuesday, August 7, 2012

A Few Words



I have been involved in funeral ministry for over 35 years, mostly as a pastoral musician. This is a solemn and holy time for any family, and it is an honor to be of service.

One aspect of funeral ministry is listening to eulogies. Yes, as a liturgical minister, I am fully aware that eulogies are not officially a part of Catholic liturgy. The documents are quite clear on this.

A brief homily based on the readings should always be given at the funeral liturgy, but never any kind of eulogy.
- Revised Order of Catholic Funerals (27)
(Published by the Vatican for the United States in 1989)

And before my non-Catholic readers cite this guideline as yet another reason to despise the Catholic Church, please take a moment to read a bishop’s explanation:

Sincerely in the Lord
A pastoral letter by Archbishop John Myers of the Archdiocese of Newark

With that out of the way, let me get back to eulogies. Just about every parish I have been associated with allows them in one form or another, calling them “reflections,” “memorials,” or simply, “a few words.” I am making no judgment on the pastors and pastoral staffs with whom I have served. In fact, I admire the way they compassionately balance the guidelines with pastoral reality.

Over the years, I have witnessed the following funeral reflections:

The Scolder
I think the speaker was a brother of the deceased, who apparently suffered a very long illness. Said speaker spent ten minutes scolding his relatives for their alleged thoughtlessness during his sister’s illness, asking “Where were you when (insert name here) needed you?” Relatives either stared straight ahead or cast their eyes downward.

But wait! There’s more! Said speaker then went to the piano to play and sing an uplifting song. What a finish!


The Salty Storyteller
It was a beautiful Rosary service in the mortuary, led by the son of the deceased. I was asked to play his mother’s favorite hymn as part of the service. He then asked mourners to feel free to come up to the lectern and share a few words. His brother accepted the impromptu invitation and proceeded to tell stories about their mother’s off-kilter sense of humor. I don’t want to repeat what he said in this family-oriented blog but “salty” would be a polite way to describe it. Relatives gasped and one older lady looked like she was going to faint. Thankfully, this was not at Mass, but still . . .


The Long-Winded Hagiographer
The deceased was a beloved matriarch, with many children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren. She lived a long and fulfilling life, and the speaker, one of her adult grandchildren, kept hammering that point home.

The reflection began with the grandmother’s childhood, during which she rose above her family’s financial hardship and excelled academically. Five minutes later, the speaker went on: “During high school . . .”

After ten minutes, the story was just warming up. “Grandma’s college years were a time of fun and fulfillment . . .” People in the pews were glancing at their watches. I was trying to fight the urge to check the email on my cell phone.

Twenty minutes later, when the speaker said “In conclusion,” the look of relief from the assembly was palpable.


The Emotionally Overcome Relative
Oh, the poor man. He obviously had all the best intentions but just three minutes into his reflection, he became so overcome with emotion that he could no longer continue. Compassionately, an older relative walked up to the ambo, put his arm around his sobbing brother, and said into the microphone, “Mom was the best! Thank you all for coming. See you at the reception.”

These are extreme but typical examples that many of us have witnessed at one time or another. But, for the most part, the funeral reflections I have experienced are touching memorials that truly shine when then they don’t canonize the deceased as a saint (that’s the responsibility of the Church) but, rather, share a story on how their dearly departed was an example of God’s love for their family. The best reflections make me think, “I wish I had known this person when he/she was alive.” And it is my privilege to be a part of the prayer for that person’s soul.

Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord. And let perpetual light shine upon them.
May their souls, and all the souls of the faithful departed, rest in peace. Amen.


2 comments:

  1. Hi Ken

    I've recently been looking hard at the funeral liturgies from, and came across an interesting reference to OCF (170) on this blog:
    http://catholicsensibility.wordpress.com/2010/11/04/ocf-170-eulogies-and-rubrics/

    So I'm not sure that the situation is as clear cut as some bishops would like it to be.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Thank you, Friend! The general instructions of our liturgical books have so much fine print that often gets overlooked. I am pleased to discover from you that there is a compassionate "loophole" through which family members can share a few words at the final commendation of their loved ones.

    Blessings to you!

    ReplyDelete

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.