I want an old time funeral...

Reading the obituaries is a daily custom for me and it is more than a casual scanning of the information. Aging tends to focus your attention in ways you might not expect and the review of death notices helps me tend to my life more intentionally. The older I get, the more names I know in this section of the paper.
Obituary customs are not universal. Friends who recently moved here from Louisville, Kentucky have been struck with the differences in language and funeral customs here in the mountains. Louisville obituaries tended to be more prosaic and less descriptive without many religious phrases like “entered into eternal rest” or “departed this life to eternal life with the Father”. Some will dwell on the person’s faith and how it was lived out citing church membership or list the different ways they served in their church. But I’ve noticed a trend recently among obituaries that has interested me.
More and more I see “Celebrations of Life” or a memorial service at a later date mentioned instead of a funeral following the death. I can’t help but wonder what you do with your feelings of mourning, loss, sadness, and grief if you are limited to a celebration or memorial at a later date. When death has visited my life, when I lose someone’s presence here on earth with me, I want structure to help me move through the maze of feelings that comes when someone I love dies.
Old time funerals may seem barbaric to us in our enlightened age but I am coming to appreciate some of the gifts that came with those customs. During my growing up time, viewing the body was an important part of the ritual. Open caskets rested in the sanctuary until the funeral service began allowing the community to pass before the body making the usual inane comments... My, doesn’t she look good? That hair style is really becoming. The important part of this ritual was the affirmation that the body is only a shell, a house for the soul while on earth. When the soul departs through death, we can see clearly the absence of the person we have known and loved. Fear of death can be tempered if one has eyes to see and ears to hear.
The community gathered around the family after death. Food in abundance was provided along with serving and dishwashing. During the funeral, someone would stay at the home in case thieves came along. These thieves read the obituaries marking the time of the funeral as prime time to rob. When you returned from the grave side, a meal would be on the table waiting for you, hot and ready to eat, concrete affirmation that your loved one and you matter, are loved and valued by your neighbors, church family and larger community. Martha expressions of love and caring when the ache of loss cannot be smoothed over help ease the hurt for a little while.
Drive by and drop in visits were the norm in our small town. “I was just driving by and saw Mr. Tom’s pickup sitting in the driveway. Thought I’d stop by and see how you’re doing. Do you need any help with the cows (or house or car)?” Grief did not end when the casket was covered up. The web of caring held you up in the days after as the work of grief began in earnest. Ladies would consult at church...Have you seen Shirley? How is she doing? Who is going to visit her this week? Should we send someone to help with the farm chores?... and the pastoral care network as administered by the Women’s Missionary Union or just the women in general saw that grief was not forgotten.
When I die, all of you left behind better give me a good funeral not a celebration. I want you to weep and laugh, tears flow, faith be affirmed, read the Twenty Third Psalm in the King James Version because I love the poetic images, sing my favorite hymns, pray for my soul and the lives of those I love, grieve in messy, sloppy authentic ways that acknowledge the love you have for me. View my body if you want to and say your final goodbyes to the shell of who I was. No need to be refined or formal and don’t try too hard to be positive. Let all your feelings of grief and loss come to the surface. Use the rituals of death to help you move through the valley of the shadow so that you might be lifted up to higher ground. If Michael is still alive, drop by and sit on the porch with him a spell. Call my children and play with my grandchildren. Tell my stories and call my name. Jesus said “Blessed are those who mourn” and we are. We are.