The Privilege of Funeral Ministry

Having taken the module Funeral and Bereavement Ministry as part of my LLM, Licensed Lay Minister training, I was ready to take my first funeral in December 2017. I was rather surprised that the lady concerned was 104, but I felt well-prepared. I had had good advice from Richard Arding, our then vicar, and Dennis Moor from Stone Church.

The staff at Kemnal Park could not have been more helpful, as were the Funeral Directors, to whom I confessed that it was my first time - “but don’t tell the family”, I urged them. I have found all these professional people to be friendly, caring, and ready to remind me where things are, when I forget the details of the Crematorium layout.

Yes, I regard the opportunity of taking funerals as a privilege, and an honour. Through my training, I learned chiefly that grief is a very personal, complicated process, and this study enabled me to begin to understand my own, long-term grieving, so my aim is to help the bereaved to see that it is normal, cannot be quantified, and that one day - however long it takes, they will be able to think of their loved one and smile, a smile of gratitude, perhaps, a wry smile when remembering faults, or a smile when thinking of happy memories.

The preparation for a funeral cannot be hurried: I like to meet the bereaved person or family face-to-face, and find out as much as I can, especially if I haven’t known the deceased. If I have known the person, I feel particularly blessed if I’ve been asked to officiate by them, or a family member.

Although I haven’t made any drastic mistakes in a funeral, such as using the wrong name, or mixing up the relations, sometimes it can be stressful if the unexpected happens:

If I am conducting a burial, I always check the location of the grave beforehand, so that I can lead the cortège directly to that spot. On one occasion, with the service due to start at 12 noon, I went to the allocated spot at 10.45, and - no grave! A few minutes later, the grave digger strolled nonchalantly along, and then asked me how long the service might take! I did begin to worry…before that same service I developed a tickle in my throat as I led the coffin bearers into church. I coughed all the way down the aisle, and turned to face the congregation, eyes streaming. I don’t know whether the mourners thought they were tears of sympathy…

On one memorable occasion, I thought I’d committed the unpardonable offence of being late at the Crematorium. It was at Medway, quite a long drive away, and I’d had hold-ups on the M2, followed by panicking over the SatNav directions, and, fearing I was lost, full of apologies, I rang the mobile of the bereaved gentleman, which his wife answered and said, “That’s all right; we’re stuck on the M2 behind the hearse.” Fortunately, I was able to find the place and sort myself out just in time.

Some people have asked me how I can do this work without getting involved emotionally, but I certainly believe I have a calling in this ministry, and if I can help people through a difficult time, it is certainly satisfying and worthwhile.

Jean Hook