My grandma’s memorial was on Saturday, it was in a church - because that’s where she wanted it. It was the first time I had been in a church in a long while. My brother and I kept shooting one another glances when we’d have to pray or something.
It was really hard to respect my grandmother’s wishes without exploding about sitting inside of an almost cultish setting ["now lets drink the kool-aid" my brother said to me at one point]. My step-dad spoke at one point and it was quite nice because he talked a lot about personal experience type stuff. But later on the minister of the church that we were at started to speak.
It was so horrible. I wish I had a copy of what he said.It’s not a good start to something whe you begin a new thought at a funeral with the words “I don’t want to be disrespectful…but…” … and then go on about “yeah, she’s dead, but the church will be okay!” Please, that’s totally not what I wanted to hear at my grandma’s funeral.
It was shitty to be so disconnected from what was going on. The only times when I actually felt like I could relate to what was going on was when my little cousin did a little talk, and when my step dad was telling stories about how we all viewed her. “special k”
Going into church again definitely gave me a huge reminder about why I walked out of the church life. People kept saying to me “She’s in a better place now”… my brother and I had to grind our teeth a little because as far as we’re concerned when you’re dead, you’re dead. The off switch has been flicked. But you can’t be that rude and abrupt with people who have just lost someone so dear to them. I feel so bad when I say to my mom “you didn’t just talk to dad, because dad is dead”. She believes that he’s really communicating with her. I will admit that I did know my grandma died before my mom even told me. I said to a girl beside me “I’m pretty sure my grandma just died” and literally 10 minutes later my mom called to let me know that it had happened. Granted I knew she was sick, but I had just finished a 10 hour shift and hadn’t been updated on her status in a while. …Just a tid bit.
I don’t know how to tell people what I believe when they’re in such a …sad state. Because the biggest way they’re coping is by thinking that she’s in a “better” place. I did buck up enough to say “no, i actually didn’t think it was a nice service” when people asked me if I had enjoyed it as much as they did. Because I really didn’t think it was a nice service. My brother and I promised that who ever dies first - the other will take care of their funeral arrangements, and then leave a note before we die that we want the other’s to be handled in exactly the same way.
Then, to top it all off, we paid the minister $150. SHITTY.
Soooo, things that have made me sad in the past few days:
Marcus Ranum said:
I don’t think anyone is necessarily calling theists ’stupid’.
I am. They are.
Next?
jerk.
worg said:
If you’re tolerant of religion you’re fucking dumb.
sigh.
Standing at my grandma’s grave letting the wind dry my tears so I looked strong.
Not being able to enjoy my grandma’s memorial because the religion kept annoying me.
Seriously though - the comments that I’ve gotten in the past few days have been too much for me to handle. I usually soak all this shit right up and fight right back, just as hard. But I’m pretty sure this is the first time commenters have made me cry! Ah hahaha. Fuck. I think it’s just the emotions of this week.
How do you manage to get through a religious funeral? What sort of respectful response is there to “she’s in a better place”?
I’m sorry for your loss.
I felt the same way during my grandfather’s funeral. A minister who did not know him, and assumed familiarity was almost too much to bear. My grief was turned to shaking anger. “Your grampa or gramps was a beloved man,” etc etc. We never called him “Grampa or gramps”; he hated that. I called him Grandfather or George.
There’s not a lot I felt comfortable in saying to contradict people when they said he was in a better place. Only in hindsight did I think I should have replied, “He is becoming a part of the world around us again, in it not of it.” Or that I should have instead only focussed on remembering him instead of dwelling on where he is and isn’t.
I do not know if it will help your grief, but I found reading some of the essays from Parenting Beyond Belief edited & written by Dale McGowan very helpful. They are intended for children, but I’m new to being a secular atheist type myself. Chapters & Indigo can order it, but it may be faster from Amazon.
Be well.
I’ve never understood this idea that funeral services should be held by a minister who never knew the dead person.
In highschool I went to the funeral of a beloved English teacher; she was an athiest but her husband was Catholic. We sat through all this stuff about how she supposedly “knew she was in a better place,” even though she’d always rejected all that stuff.
And yeah, the minister had never even met this wonderful woman.
But then we come to another cliche, but one that’s very much true: funerals are for the living, not for the dead. If it helped console her grieving husband then I suppose that was the entire point. Still, it shows no “respect for the dead” and almost seems to be a snarky last word.
My condolences.
I think if PZ Myers sent me a million commenters like that, I would cry too. Stupid internets.
Hey, I found this blog through PZ Myers. Though I don’t agree with him on many points. That isn’t why I am commenting on this blog either.
This post is somewhat relevant to what I am going through right now. On Saturday my grandfather passed away, he’d been dealing with cancer for a few months and suffered a heart attack. For someone who is almost 21 and has never dealt with any loss before it’s pretty hard.
There isn’t going to be a funeral or anything, he just wants to be cremated. He was always distrustful of religion it seemed but I never approached the subject with him as it that topic can seriously upset some people. I am seriously regretting not discussing it with him now as it could have really deepened our relationship. Anyways, I’ve had to talk to all my relatives about this stuff and it hasn’t been easy. I’ve found the best way to deal with all the religious overtones is to ignore them, you’re just going to make some very upset people even more upset. Even though it may or may not have been my grandfather’s belief, if it helps my mom and grandma deal with it to think he’s in heaven so be it.
On another note, I am from Cambridge. I doubt you’ve seen me at any secular gatherings or such since while interested in them, I haven’t really tried to make the connections. I tend to philosophize to myself mainly anyways.
I’ll keep an eye on this blog now though.
Hi Katie,
You need to remember that these people who offer those comments are only doing so because they are trying to show their concern and respect for members of the family that are still alive. It’s not done with malice. Sure, as an atheist, it’s kind of hard to listen too, but remember, your not trying to debate the point of the existance of god or the afterlife. I’m sure the vast majority of people don’t have a clue what to say during a funeral. They were trying to be comforting, simply because it’s the only way they’ve been taught how to do so. This is one of those smile and nod times unfortunately. It’s not easy for anyone. We’ve been programmed to think that death sucks instead of it being a natural process for any living thing on this planet.
But it wasn’t always like that. 100 years ago, the deceased were displayed in the family home in the parlor. People would come and pay their respects, remembering more of what the person did in life than the end of it. There was no church involvement at this time unless the local minister was invited to the home (and there certainly wasn’t any fee involved). At the end of the display, the immediate family would take the deceased to the cemetary. If asked, the minister would say a few kind words and that was the end of that chapter.
What changed all that was, if you can believe it, a fashion magazine. This magazine decided that it was untoward to display the dead in your home. Queue the invention of the funeral home. Now, when someone dies, the funeral vultures are immediately called and the deceased is whisked off and prepared. We then have a display time at the funeral home and the next time we see them it’s at the church. Our involvement in the process of death has been effectively suspended. Because of that, our ability to deal with it in a rational manner has changed as well. When your shielded from reality, this is what happens.
We just need to remember that when we sit in our living rooms (formerly named parlors but changed to reflect the fact that dead people are no longer displayed there) ultimately we still have the right to control how we treat our deceased. But since we’re fighting against 100 years of having our death processes dictated to us, the only one we really control is our own. Maybe when it’s our time, we can show our kids what death is, instead of trying to make them detached from it. Until then, smile and nod…
First of all - thanks for the kind words everyone. I really appreciate it (especially after all the… not so kind ones.)
Muffy - in this case my grandmas simply wanted the minister of *her* church to do the service, i dont think it mattered who it was. she wanted it at her church, she wanted donations given to her church and wanted the minister of her church to lead the funeral. I dont get it at all. I think it’s totally ridiculous to celebrate someone’s life… by listening to a guy who didn’t know a thing about her life.
daggar - my brother and i started to perfect the smile and nod. … later on i started answering with “remember when…” or “… did you see teh pictures of all her grandchildren?” or “what is your favorite memory…” …Oddly enough this is when people would get awkward, and really backed off. …I didn’t do it intentionally to have them back off, I jsut thought it was going to be a better way to honour her. But, I guess some people just… can’t deal with their feelings. It’s easier to dismiss the situation with a “she’s in a better place” rather than a “she meant a lot to me because…i learned this from her…we’ll really miss her…” etc.
Katie.
I’m not sure if this will mean anything, but I have a personal anecdote that might help make all of those comments a little easier to read. I happen to be a religious individual who lives in a VERY secular community. They do exist I swear. I came here to get my PhD and I thought “Finally! A liberal community where I can really share my views and get intelligent feedback! I can have conversations instead of religious rhetoric! Maybe I’ll learn something new! Right?” Wrong. I have learned to keep my religion and my opinions to myself so as to avoid ridicule and derision. I love debate and to be informed by people more intelligent than myself, but I do not enjoy being called names. Who does? Who is that kind of behavior supposed to persuade? Certainly not the people it is directed at. It has been said that if you want to be heard you must first learn to listen. If a group of people is unable or unwilling to listen to me, I must assume that they do not want to change my mind through their words. I must assume that I am so far beneath them that changing my ideas through respectful conversation is not worth their time. In short: to many atheists, I am not worth the air I breathe. Why would I want to subscribe to a system of thought that looks at me that way? Anyways, I have been told that in order to no longer be a moron I must read Dawkins et al., which is why I started reading PZ’s blog. Which is how I found you. If you had not been linked there I would have never found an atheist as open-minded as yourself, and I was about to give up in my search. Thank you for letting me know that I can have a rational conversation with an atheist that might persuade and inform my existence rather than detract from it. Thank you for treating me like a person. I will be reading your blog to see the world from another point of view that respects my own.
I think a lot of us have had this experience at funerals. When you don’t believe, what many ministers do sounds almost like a sales pitch or a Presidential press conference in the face of a scandal. They spend all this time trying to rationalize death and assure us that, somehow, it all makes sense and your faith should come out stronger out of this. But when a loved one dies, what particular metaphysical realities are real or not really isn’t something I care that much about, and someone, especially a stranger, pushing a particular view just seems obscene and intrusive.
But at the same time, I never feel like trying to make an issue of it either. Because for people that are believers, they probably do need to hear those things, because their faith is important them, and the turmoil of questioning their faith and a loved one at the same time is often not what they want either, nor something I want to feel I’m part of an agenda encouraging them to question their beliefs then and there if they don’t naturally seek that out.
There’s a time and a place for debating things, and ultimately, the wishes of the people running the funeral, or of the deceased, are the most important in that time and place. Minor irritation pales besides grief, to the point where you can just pretty much just ignore it.
Of course, that doesn’t mean we have to be insincere. The best thing to say when someone says “she’s in a better place” is nothing at all, at least to that statement. You don’t think that belief makes much sense, but you can simply hear it, acknowledge in your head that yes, they do believe that and that’s important to them, and fine, whatever. You don’t have to agree with it, or endorse it. You just don’t have to be interested or dragged into in arguing the point either.
Most of the grieving process for everyone is just about listening compassionately to people say the things they say, understanding that they are hurting, and hoping that they listen and understand you as well.
Rachel, for interesting material, depending on what path you end up walking, I’ve found the “de-conversion” blog of particular interest. Very respectful individuals, sharing their experiences, many come from ministry but are no longer believers. (It is at de-conversion.com )