Saturday, March 11, 2006
Thoughts on a funeral
Well, yesterday was Chocolate's funeral. There were two services, a Catholic one, and an Anglican one.
Chocolate was deeply spiritual, and that spirituality had found its expression through the Christian church. However, by the time that I knew him, he had found a different path for his spirituality, one that included only the good things about Christian doctrine (acceptance, faith, helping your fellow human, humility...you know, the real meat and bones of any belief system) and added little bits and pieces from elsewhere, like Buddhism and philosophy - and an awful lot from the Jossverse (Joss has an awful lot to say about the use of, the meaning behind, the reason for faith). Chocolate once said that he truly believed something that Joss said in an episode of Angel: If there is no grand plan, if nothing you do matters, then the only thing that matters is what you do.
I've long since given up calling myself a true athiest - I don't know what it is that I believe in, but I do feel the call of some form or another of spirituality. I had an amazing experience a few years ago, when I went to a teaching by the Dalai Lama, and if I was a true athiest, I don't think that would have affected me the way that it did. I do have some real problems with the expression of doctrine, and going to a series of religious services was going to be a difficulty for me - but I needed to go, to experience that formal set of ceremonies around mourning.
Knowing all of this, I understood that the Catholic service was for the benefit of his family, and his mother most particularly. Catholic services can be very moving, being as they are full of pomp and ceremony and very pagan like on occasion. And some parts of the mass were very moving, and healing, but...the priest (Father?) conducting the service did not help at all. He had not known Chocolate, and his homily truly reflected that, causing myself and some of the people I was with to feel uncomfortable and slightly lost.
There was a wonderful moment at the beginning of the mass - a picture of Chocolate had been placed upon his coffin. Now, Chocolate hated people taking photos of him, and even worse, posting them where they could be seen! And so, when the photo on his coffin suddenly fell face down during the mass, the first thing I thought was "Chocolate really doesn't want his photo seen, does he?" I could just see him tut-tutting about the fact that somebody had put his photo out there, tilting his head quizzically, and very seriously explaining why it wasn't necessary to have a photo of him at all.
Don't get me wrong - tears were shed, and plenty of them. I just found that I could not take comfort in the words that were being said - I took comfort, instead, in the Browncoats around me, and the knowledge that everyone who was in the church was there to mourn someone that they had loved deeply.
The Anglican service was a little better, a little more relaxed, if that were possible. There were almost half the number of people again at the Anglican service than had been at the Catholic service, so it was very packed. And again, some beautiful words were said by friends and family, and some lovely stories told about the Chocolate that I had not known, the Chocolate who was part of a church community for 20 years, who touched such a huge number of people.
It was an important part of the mourning process, this funeral and cremation. I do, however, look forward to the shindig that we're having today - the Browncoats are hosting a wake for friends and family, and then we're having a Browncoats only shindig, where we'll plant a tree, and say some words about Chocolate, and what he meant to us as a community. Then, there'll be food and drink and laughter and tears and reminiscing and tall stories and more drink and hugs and probably more tears. But I think the laughter will outweigh the tears by the end of the night, because if there was something that Chocolate was always good at, it was bringing a smile to your face.
Chocolate was deeply spiritual, and that spirituality had found its expression through the Christian church. However, by the time that I knew him, he had found a different path for his spirituality, one that included only the good things about Christian doctrine (acceptance, faith, helping your fellow human, humility...you know, the real meat and bones of any belief system) and added little bits and pieces from elsewhere, like Buddhism and philosophy - and an awful lot from the Jossverse (Joss has an awful lot to say about the use of, the meaning behind, the reason for faith). Chocolate once said that he truly believed something that Joss said in an episode of Angel: If there is no grand plan, if nothing you do matters, then the only thing that matters is what you do.
I've long since given up calling myself a true athiest - I don't know what it is that I believe in, but I do feel the call of some form or another of spirituality. I had an amazing experience a few years ago, when I went to a teaching by the Dalai Lama, and if I was a true athiest, I don't think that would have affected me the way that it did. I do have some real problems with the expression of doctrine, and going to a series of religious services was going to be a difficulty for me - but I needed to go, to experience that formal set of ceremonies around mourning.
Knowing all of this, I understood that the Catholic service was for the benefit of his family, and his mother most particularly. Catholic services can be very moving, being as they are full of pomp and ceremony and very pagan like on occasion. And some parts of the mass were very moving, and healing, but...the priest (Father?) conducting the service did not help at all. He had not known Chocolate, and his homily truly reflected that, causing myself and some of the people I was with to feel uncomfortable and slightly lost.
There was a wonderful moment at the beginning of the mass - a picture of Chocolate had been placed upon his coffin. Now, Chocolate hated people taking photos of him, and even worse, posting them where they could be seen! And so, when the photo on his coffin suddenly fell face down during the mass, the first thing I thought was "Chocolate really doesn't want his photo seen, does he?" I could just see him tut-tutting about the fact that somebody had put his photo out there, tilting his head quizzically, and very seriously explaining why it wasn't necessary to have a photo of him at all.
Don't get me wrong - tears were shed, and plenty of them. I just found that I could not take comfort in the words that were being said - I took comfort, instead, in the Browncoats around me, and the knowledge that everyone who was in the church was there to mourn someone that they had loved deeply.
The Anglican service was a little better, a little more relaxed, if that were possible. There were almost half the number of people again at the Anglican service than had been at the Catholic service, so it was very packed. And again, some beautiful words were said by friends and family, and some lovely stories told about the Chocolate that I had not known, the Chocolate who was part of a church community for 20 years, who touched such a huge number of people.
It was an important part of the mourning process, this funeral and cremation. I do, however, look forward to the shindig that we're having today - the Browncoats are hosting a wake for friends and family, and then we're having a Browncoats only shindig, where we'll plant a tree, and say some words about Chocolate, and what he meant to us as a community. Then, there'll be food and drink and laughter and tears and reminiscing and tall stories and more drink and hugs and probably more tears. But I think the laughter will outweigh the tears by the end of the night, because if there was something that Chocolate was always good at, it was bringing a smile to your face.
