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A grief contained or buried? - A reflection on changing ritual practice at funerals within an...
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3. A grief contained or buried? - A reflection on changing ritual practice at funerals within an historical framework and its effect on human understanding of hope and meaning.
The history of death is a history of self-reflection.1
From the earliest records of human reflection questions
of self identity arise, as Davies posits: ‘Identity [is]
the way people understand themselves in relation to
other persons, to the world around them and to
supernatural realms.’2
Davies goes on to comment that human identity is a
consequence of self-consciousness within particular
social networks, in a particular language. Our identity
and purpose in the world become combined to form an
understanding of human destiny as an important factor in
our developing world view; this understanding of our
destiny provides ontological security. Therefore
questions arise such as ‘Who are we? Where do we come
from? And where do we go to after death?’
For much of human history either popular myths or formal
theology, or indeed a mixture of the two, have offered
individuals and communities explanatory narratives
concerning life and death and the relationship between
the living and dead. More recently philosophers and 1 Davies, D.J., A Brief History of Death, Blackwell, Oxford, 2005, p. 12 Davies, D.J., Death, Ritual and Belief, (2nd Ed.), Continuum, London, 2002,p. 4
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social scientists have entered the discussion with their
own agendas. Both of these narratives I shall explore in
this chapter.
At the heart of this reflection and emerging ritual
practice has been and continues to be not only the
emotion of grief at the separation caused by the
breaking of bonds between each other by death, but an
understanding of our place in the world and the
persistent search for hope and for meaningfulness for
the life lived, with all its injustices and
disappointments, that may only be fulfilled in the
afterlife.
Ancient Narratives on DeathThree of the most longstanding and influential accounts
of mortality are those of the ancient Babylonian epic of
Gilgamesh, the Judaeo-Christian Adam and Eve narrative
found in the Hebrew Bible and Christian Old Testament,
and the Christian account of the life, death and
resurrection of Jesus Christ, found in the New
Testament.
The Gilgamesh epic presents a philosophical reflection
upon the human condition set in mythical form. It is a
narrative of human friendship describing the devotion of
one man, the princely Gilgamesh for another, the noble
Enkidu, both created through Aruru the goddess of
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creation.3 These principal characters in this drama are
attributed in some measure with divine and animal
characteristics, posing the question of how these mixed
features underlie humanity. Their meeting was
manipulated by the gods and took place in the city of
Uruk where the men fought one another and then ‘Enkidu
and Gilgamesh embraced and their friendship was sealed.’4
Their bond of attachment is only strengthened through
the adventures and conquests they undertake together,
such as when they felled the Bull of Heaven and Humbaba,
the guardian of the great cedar forest during their
forest journey.5 They set out on this journey when
Gilgamesh declares with thought about his destiny and
the heritage he may leave behind:
I have not established my name stamped on bricks as my destiny decreed; therefore I will go to the country where the cedar is felled. I will set up my name in the place where the names of the famous men are written, and where no man’s name is written yet I will raise a monument to the gods…Then if I fall I leave behind me a name that endures…6
Gilgamesh experiences and expresses deep emotion
associated with these conquests and receives vivid
visions. Yet it is in Enkidu’s dream that it is revealed
3 Sandars, N.K., (trans) The Epic of Gilgamesh, Penguin, London 1972, p 624 Ibid p 695 Ibid p 836 Ibid p 70
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that the gods have decided that one of this pair must
die for the conquests they have made; Enkidu is chosen.
In tears Enkidu addresses Gilgamesh:
O my brother, so dear as you are to me, brother, yet they take me from you.I must sit down on the threshold of the dead and never again will I see my dear brother.7
After twelve days of sickness Enkidu dies. The ravages
of separation by death are emphasised, with the
surviving character, Gilgamesh, mourning deeply for his
lost friend. Gilgamesh tells how he wept for seven days
and seven nights before a worm ‘fastened on him’ and he
finally gave him up for burial.8
In the process Gilgamesh senses his own mortality and
ponders the very essence of human nature. He journeys to
escape the terrors of death, and searches to find the
hope of eternal life. He crosses the waters of death,
assisting the ferryman in the process and still
rehearses his grief to all.9 He learns how eternal life
was granted to his forefather for having built a great
boat and surviving the world-flood. Gilgamesh is also
then rewarded for having overcome the water by diving to
obtain the rejuvenating plant named The Old Men Are Young
7 Ibid p 898 Sandars, N.K., (trans) The Epic, p. 96 or as George translates this section, ‘ until a maggot dropped from his nostril’ (Line X 60), George, A., The Epic of Gilgamesh, translated and introduced by Andrew George, Barnes and Noble, New York, 1999.9 Sandars, N.K., (trans) The Epic, pp. 97-107
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Again.10
Yet tragically it was a short lived victory as Gilgamesh
had it stolen from him by a serpent as they stopped to
bathe at a convenient pool on his homeward journey.
Gilgamesh weeps at having lost this hope of new life.11
On returning to his home city, Uruk, he reflects (to the
ferryman) that the city walls that he had rebuilt
himself would be his only memorial.12
These themes could have been written today, as Davies
posits ‘so freshly do its ancient themes touch the
ongoing problems of love, loss, hope and a realistic
acceptance of the way things are.’13
It is indeed a perceptive reflection upon the
contemporary secular way of life in its search for the
elixir (via modern medicine) to avoid the terrors and
hopelessness of death, and the eventual realisation that
the physical memorials one leaves behind may indeed be
one’s only memorial.
While Gilgamesh’s journey brought him home again ‘a
wiser, if lonelier man,’14 with a sense that his life
will be remembered only for the physical buildings he
10 Ibid p .11611 Ibid p. 11712 Ibid13 Davies, D.J., A Brief History of Death, Blackwell, Oxford, 2005, p. 314 Cf. Davies, D.J., A Brief History of Death, p. 4
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has contributed to the life of the community, the
Biblical book of Genesis gives an account of the origin
of human death and begins a history of a journeying and
multiplying people who would extend beyond the original
individuals. Death is recorded and explained as an
outcome of disobedience to divine commands committed
first of all by Adam and Eve, who, after having been
told by God not to eat the fruit of the tree of the
knowledge of good and evil,15 do so.16
… in the day that you eat of [the tree of theknowledge of good and evil] you shall die.17
The humans do not die immediately but are sentenced to
impaired relationships and to difficulties in bearing
children and raising crops. The sentence on humankind
concludes: ‘You are dust, and to dust you shall
return.’18
Humankinds’ mortality is confirmed, they are expelled
from the garden where the ‘tree of life’ resides, which
bears the necessary fruit for immortality.19 The
development of this journey from the Garden of Eden is
of a people travelling hopefully and finding meaning in
covenant relationship with their God. The journey of
Noah in obedience to God’s instructions leads to his
(and that of his extensive entourage) survival of the
15 Genesis 2:16-17 NIV16 Genesis 3:1-1917 Genesis 2:1718 Genesis 3:1919 Genesis 3:22
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global flood and has clear parallels with Gilgamesh and
yet is distinct in that the story revolves around an
obedient and fruitful relationship with God.20 In Genesis
chapter 9 God makes a covenant with Noah, instructing
him and his family to ‘be fruitful and increase in
number and fill the earth21… I now establish my covenant
with you and with your descendents after you22… Never
again will all life be cut off by the waters of a
flood.’23
Such meaning is significantly developed in the whole
community journeying hopefully to reach the promised
destination – a homeland, and not in individual
admittance to a heavenly paradise.24 This is perhaps well
illustrated with the developing journey of Abraham
spanning fourteen chapters of the Genesis narrative.25
God’s covenant with Abraham is introduced in Genesis 15:
‘… a son coming from your own body will be your heir.’ ‘Look up at the heavens and count the stars –if indeed you can count them… So shall your offspring be.26
20 Genesis 5-9; cf. Gilgamesh chapter 521 Genesis 9:1,7 22 Genesis 9:923 Genesis 9:1124 The books of Genesis, Exodus, Deuteronomy and Joshua are rich with this imagery.25 Genesis chapters 11 to 2526 Genesis 15:4-5
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‘I am the LORD, who brought you out of Ur of the Chaldeans to give you this land to take possession of it.27
This covenant was affirmed and expanded upon in Genesis
17 where again Abraham is promised that his legacy will
be offspring who will be numerous.28 The notion that
offspring are important appears to be founded on two
principles. Firstly it will be they, or rather future
generations of offspring who will take possession of
this Promised Land,29 and secondly they will continue the
family name and in so doing will keep in remembrance the
name of the deceased ancestor. This is perhaps best
illustrated in Deuteronomy with the creation of levirate
marriage whereby if a man died and had no children his
brother should marry the widow and provide children to
continue the deceased’s family name.30 The winsome story
of Ruth, where Boaz becomes the destitute woman’s
‘kinsman redeemer’ illustrates this law in action.31 In
Isaiah Yahweh promises Israel that their descendants and
their name shall remain before him:
For as the new heavens and the new earth, which I shall make, shall remain before me, says the LORD; so shall your descendants and your name remain.32
Contrastingly, the fear of not leaving this legacy is
27 Genesis 15:7f28 Genesis 17:1629 Genesis 15:12-2130 Deuteronomy 25:5-631 Ruth 432 Isaiah 66:22
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exemplified in Saul’s rare moment of remorse when he
asks David to swear not to cut off his descendants and
destroy his name.33
These, then, are the significant hopes of the journeying
and multiplying people of the Old Testament. Most often
this journeying motif did not extend beyond life, ideas
of individual life after death are rare and shadowy
throughout most of the Old Testament.34 Where it is
mentioned, the dead are located in Sheol,35 the Hebrew
name for the underworld deep below the earth. Very
occasionally, no more then ten times, are the dead
referred to as ‘shades’, so rare a Hebrew term that it
does not warrant further mention here.36 The Old
Testament gives virtually no description of the fate of
the dead in the underworld.37 Yet better charted is the
fact that like all societies, the Israelites displayed a
variety of attitudes to death and this is worthy of
further exploration.
Death is often portrayed as the natural end of life.
Both Joshua and David know that they will
‘go the way of all the earth’,38 and Job knows that God
‘will bring [him] to death, and to the house appointed 33 1Samuel 24:2234 Cf Johnston, P.S., Shades of Sheol, IVP, Leicester, 2002, p.15-16; Davies, D.J., A Brief History of Death, p. 6; 35 Examples are to be found in Psalm 6:5; Isaiah 38:18; Job 7:936 Cf Johnston, P.S., Shades, p.15, p. 12837 As Johnston’s seminal research in this area demonstrates, cf Johnston, P.S., Shades, p.1538 Joshua 23:14; 1Kings 2:2
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for all the living’.39 Further, a few texts suggest that
death is the complete end of existence:
For now I shall lie in the earth;You will seek me, but I shall not be; 40
‘Turn your gaze away from me, that I may smile again,Before I depart and am no more’.41
Death is seen as completing the natural cycle of life,
bringing it to an end:
You are dust, and to dust you shall return;42
You turn us back to dust;43
He remembers that we are dust;44
All are from the dust and all turn to dust again.45
As again Qoheleth, the wise man in Ecclesiastes states
starkly, there is ‘ a time to be born and a time to
die.’46
Perhaps more comforting was the portrayal of death as a
natural and peaceful event when it comes at the end of a
long, happy and fulfilled life;
You [Abraham] shall go to your ancestors in peace; you shall be buried in a good old age.47
39 Job 30:2340 Job 7:2141 Psalm 39:1342 Genesis 3:19; cf. 2:743 Psalm 90:344 Psalm 103:14b45 Ecclesiastes 3:2046 Ecclesiastes 3:247 Genesis 15:15
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Abraham breathed his last and died in a good old age, an old man and full of years…48
[David] died in a good old age, full of days,riches and honour.49
Some texts portray death as a friend, bringing rest,
inactivity, welcome relief, and sleep, this is a common
motif in Job:
Now [if stillborn] I would be lying down and quiet; I would be asleep; then I would be at rest.50
There the wicked cease from troubling,And there the weary are at rest.51
Yet more commonly death is seen as a bitter enemy of
life:
The terrors of death have fallen upon me;52
The cords of death encompassed me;the torrents of perdition assailed me;the cords of Sheol entangled me;the snares of death confronted me53
Why is death this enemy, this great terror? Clearly
death separates the individual from the community
physically, there is generally no evidence of any
communication between the living and the dead54, yet the
question remains as to what happens metaphysically. 48 Genesis 25:849 1 Chronicles 29:2850 Job 3:1351 Job 3:1752 Psalm 55:453 Psalm 18:4-554 Necromancy is referred to several times in the Old Testament, mainly in prohibitional terms (e.g. Leviticus 19:31, Deuteronomy 18:10f.). The exception is the tragic story of Saul consulting the spirit of the dead Samuel through a female medium at Endor, recounted in 1 Samuel 28-30.
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Firstly, there is considerable evidence that death was
seen to cut one off from Yahweh:
For in death there is no remembrance of you;In Sheol who can give praise?55
[I am] like those forsaken among the dead,like the slain that lie in the grave,like those whom you remember no more,for they are cut off from your hand.56
For Sheol cannot thank you, death cannot praise you;those who go down to the Pit cannot hopefor your faithfulness.57
In this the hopefulness of the covenant relationship
with Yahweh is broken and the expectation of inhabiting
the Promised Land is ended.
Secondly, as Johnston concludes, there is not ‘any sense
of meaningful interaction, let alone of happy reunion,
among the dead’.58 Therefore death is seen as the great
and final terminus, all the relationships valued in life
end with death.
55 Psalm 6:556 Psalm 88:5; cf. 10-1257 Isaiah 38:1858 Johnston, P.S., Shades, p.33 cf. Ezekiel 32:22-30 where Ezekiel pictures the dead lying inactive in a vast underground cavern. It should also be noted that the terms ‘gathered to his people’ and ‘slept with his fathers’ do not seem to imply any ongoing ancestral reunion but generally is applied to leaders who died peacefully, as opposed to the term ‘he died’ being applied to those who met a violent end. Cf. Johnston, P.S., p.33-35
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In summary, the ancient Hebrews, like all societies,
held a variety of complex attitudes about death. In
general they accepted it as the natural end of human
life when it came peacefully and at the end of a long
life. When death came prematurely and especially
violently, it was seen as a bitter enemy. More
occasionally it could be embraced (as in the case of
Job) as a welcome friend releasing the person from
enduring ongoing suffering. In any case it was the end
to life, no further communion was to be had either with
Yahweh – the Lord of life, or the community of which
they had formerly been part.
Yet whilst this represents the dominant view held by the
Hebrews in their journey of life and faith with respect
to death, there are a couple of references in the Old
Testament that point to some belief in resurrection. The
first comes towards the end of the ‘Song of Moses’, a
hymn of praise to Yahweh, where his power to renew life
is cited as yet further evidence of his
incomparability.59 The second occurs in the ‘Song of
Hannah’, following the birth of Samuel, where Yahweh’s
power to raise from Sheol is another sign of his
reversing the polarities of life60 and is a statement of
absolute confidence in Israel’s god as all-powerful61:
Yahweh kills and brings to life; He brings down to Sheol
59 Deut 32:3960 such as the mighty-feeble, full-hungry, barren-fertile, poor-rich61 As seen in 1 Samuel 2
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and raises up.62
Affirming Yahweh’s greatness and the extent of his power
is a common theme in the Old Testament. Yet references
to resurrection even in this context are rare. There are
no instances recorded in the immediate context of Yahweh
actually raising individuals to life. So in their
historiographical contexts, the songs proclaim something
beyond personal Israelite experience.
So it appears here that potentiality is affirmed rather
than an actuality which has been witnessed.63
The only other references to resurrection in the Old
Testament come in the apocalyptic (or at least proto-
apocalyptic) literature of Isaiah 26 and Daniel 12. In
Isaiah, amongst the characteristically bright
kaleidoscope of vivid images, there are glimpses of
triumph over death:
Your dead shall live, their corpses shall rise.O dwellers in the dust, awake and sing for joy!For your dew is a radiant dew,and the earth will give birth to those long dead.64
The context is one of national revival and restoration
and as Clements affirms, the imagery of resurrection is 62 1 Samuel 2:663 A view also held by Johnston, P.S., Shades, p.21964 Isaiah 26:19 NRSV
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also best applied to the nation.65 Yet finally one text
speaks unmistakably of and unambiguously of personal
resurrection:
At that time Michael, the great prince, the protector of your people, shall arise. There shall be a time of anguish, such as has neveroccurred since nations first came into existence. But at that time your people shallbe delivered, everyone who is found written in the book. Many of those who sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake, some to everlasting life, and some to shame and everlasting contempt. Those who are wise shall shine like the brightness of the sky, and those who lead many to righteousness, like the stars for ever and ever. But you, Daniel, keep the words secret and the book sealed until the time of the end. Many shall be running back and forth, and evil shall increase.66
Whilst the resurrection theme is clear here, it is
unexplored in the rest of the book,67 as with Isaiah.
Furthermore successive prophets, psalmists, sages and
historians of the seventh, sixth and fifth centuries
ignored it, as Johnston observes:
To them the concept of resurrection was unknown or incomprehensible, and their works maintain the traditional Israelite view of the unwelcome underworld.68
65 Clements, R. E., Isaiah 1-39, New Century Bible, Marshall, Morgan & Scott, London, 1980, p.21666 Daniel 12:1-467 Many scholars link the book of Daniel to the time of the Maccabean revolt, as it appears to reflect and comment on that era. E.g. Drane, J., Introducing the Old Testament, Lion, Tring, 198768 Johnston, P.S., Shades, p.227
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Thus resurrection remained marginal to Old Testament
belief and Israelite death practices.
It was during the Inter Testamental Period, from the
second century BCE that some Jews began to develop the
idea of resurrection of the dead. It is frequently cited
in 2 Maccabees as a spur to faith, by the martyred
family of seven brothers and their mother.69
The fourth brother’s spirited speech to his accusers70
illustrates this point:
…they maltreated and tortured the fourth in the same way. When he was near death, he said, ‘One cannot but choose to die at the hands of mortals and to cherish the hope God gives of being raised again by him. But for you there will be no resurrection to life!’71
We read here an understanding that resurrection would be
an act of vindication of the righteous and held a
parallel with the notion of atonement – the belief that
suffering could counteract the effect of sin and restore
broken relations with God. This is developed later in
the same book:
He also took up a collection, man by man, to the amount of two thousand drachmas of silver, and sent it to Jerusalem to provide for a sin-offering. In doing this he acted very well and honourably, taking account of the resurrection. For if he were not expecting that those who had fallen would rise again, it would have been superfluous
69 2 Maccabees 7:9, 11, 14, 23, 29 (NRSV)70 The Maccabeans were resisting Antiochus IV during the revolt of 167-164 BCE.71 2 Maccabees 7:13-14
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and foolish to pray for the dead. But if he was looking to the splendid reward that is laid up for those who fall asleep in godliness, it was a holy and pious thought. Therefore he made atonement for the dead, so that they might be delivered from their sin.72
By New Testament times, belief in resurrection had
become common among Pharisees and many other Jews.73
Resurrection was envisaged as God’s restoration of
Israel in the present transformed and recreated world.
However, the Sadducees74 could not bring themselves to
accept that the resurrection of the dead was an
authentic part of the Hebrew faith.75 This was ostensibly
because the resurrection of the dead is not mentioned in
the Torah, alone authoritative for them, and it may have
been that they considered resurrection of the dead as a
new idea brought in from Persia after the Old Testament
period. The Sadducees insisted on the authority of
Scripture alone and rejecting oral tradition; the Torah
stressed that correct worship in the Temple would
produce material prosperity and they sought to realise
that promise. Any other agenda, they considered, would
jeopardise their position by encouraging insurrection
and martyrdom. 76
72 2 Maccabees 12:43-4573 Cf. Acts 23:874 It is acknowledged that we know little of this group beyond the pages of the New Testament75 Cf. Mark 12:8; Acts 23:8; and Josephus, Antiquities xviii.16.76 There is well documented evidence of belief in resurrection beingcommon to other Ancient Near Eastern cultures at that time. E.g. Johnston, P.S., Shades, p.230-236
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It is into this context that the New Testament begins
the narrative of life, death and resurrection of Jesus
Christ. In the face of challenges by the Sadducees,
Jesus aligns himself firmly with those who do hold to a
resurrection hope.77 In studying the early Christian
church we find not just a general faith in some future
life, but a very specific and precise faith about Jesus
and his resurrection and about the future life which God
had promised to all his people. This is founded upon a
‘very specific worldview which was generated by the
events concerning Jesus, and supremely the events of
Easter itself.’78
With the incarnation – the embodiment of ‘God with us’
in Jesus Christ, came the understanding that his life
was a saving passion, his death an atoning act for all
peoples bringing into sharp focus a fulfilment of the
divine covenant, and his resurrection brought the sure
and certain hope that individual believers would
experience this resurrection for themselves in the last
days.79 In these pages Jesus Christ was interpreted as
the new Adam, the one who was obedient to God’s divine
will and purposes,80 as opposed to the first Adam who
77cf. Matthew 22:23-33; Mark 12:18-27; Luke 20:27-40.78 Wright, N.T., Surprised by Hope, SPCK, London, 2007, p.9179 Romans 5:12ff; Romans 8; 1 Corinthians 15; Galatians 3; Davies, D.J., A Brief History of Death, pp. 7-8; Wright, N.T., Surprised by Hope, p.160ff80Romans 5:12ff; Romans 8; Galatians 3; Cf. Hooker, M.D., From Adam to Christ, CUP, Cambridge, 1990; Davies, D.J., A Brief History of Death, p. 6
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demonstrated humankind’s disobedience to the divine
will, already mentioned above.81 Whilst the actions of
the first Adam brought death to humankind, the second
Adam brought the hope of life to humanity, even in the
face of death. In other words the Christian hope in the
face of death is firmly based upon the death and
resurrection of Jesus Christ. Writing about the unique
place of the death of Jesus Christ in influencing
millions of people, motivating ethical life and
underpinning traditional Christian cultures, Davies
suggests that ‘paradoxically, it is not only a model of
and for death but also of and for life, and it lies
central to the ritual and belief of Christianity.’82
This worldview was rooted in their very Jewish belief in
God as the Creator and Redeemer. The Jewish festivals of
Passover and Pentecost were both agricultural and
salvation-historical festivals, at least in their
developed forms. Passover was the time when the first
crop of barley was presented before the Lord and of
course commemorating Israel coming out of Egypt.83
Pentecost, seven weeks later,84 was the time when the
first fruits of the wheat harvest were presented and
commemorated the arrival at Sinai and the giving of the
81 Cf. Genesis 382 Davies, D.J., Death, Ritual and Belief, p. 12583 Numbers 28:10-23; Leviticus 23:9-14; - the feast of Unleavened Bread and the Passover occur at the same time and became closely associated as they both celebrated the escape from Egypt (Exodus 12 – 15)84 Or 50 days
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Torah.85 The two strands were woven together, since part
of God’s promise in liberating Israel and giving it the
law was that Israel would inherit the land and that the
land would be fruitful.
In 1 Corinthians 15:20 & 23 Paul uses the image of the
‘first fruits’ and applies it to Jesus: He is the first
fruits, the first to rise from the dead but this is not
to be an isolated event; the point of the first fruits
is that there will be many more. Jesus’ Passover is
Calvary and Easter, which of course occurred at Passover
time and has been interpreted in the light of that
festival from very early on. 86 The great slave master
(Egypt) of sin and death had been defeated when Jesus
came through the Red Sea of death and out the other side
into new life. Paul goes on, later in the chapter,87 to
expound the nature of the Christian resurrection body on
the basis of the new body of Jesus.88
Therefore, because they had seen this belief in God as
the Creator and Redeemer confirmed in the totally
unexpected event of Jesus’ resurrection, this caused
them to look forward eagerly to the fulfilment of the
promise that what God had done for Jesus on the first
Easter Day, he would do for each one who is in Christ,
85 Numbers 28:26-31 (or Feast of Weeks). (cf Joshua 21:43-48)86 See Drane, J., Introducing the New Testament, Lion, Tring, 1986, p.85; e.g. in 1 Corinthians 5:7 Paul speaks of ‘Christ our Passover lamb’.87 1 Corinthians 15: 35ff88 I shall return to this subject in chapter 5
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each one indwelt by the Spirit of Christ. Indeed as
Wright is at pains to point out, he was to do for the
whole cosmos.89 In Romans 8:18-25 the Apostle Paul again
uses the imagery of the Exodus from Egypt but this time
in relation to the whole of creation. Whilst creation is
in slavery to transience through decay and death,90 the
day will come when God’s children will be glorified,
when what happened at Easter to Jesus Christ would
happen to all Jesus’ people leading them to their true
identity, and their resurrection will herald new life
for all creation.91 The metaphor of childbirth is used.
This gives a strong suggestion of continuity and
discontinuity: the discontinuity of mother and child
separated but the continuity of the birth of a new
creation out of the womb of the old.
Still the question remains for many both within and
without the church: what form will this resurrection
life take?
This afterlife was interpreted by much of the church,
for much of its history, as being in a heavenly domain,
the Easter hope being the journey through life to the
terminus of the heavenly city,92 with fewer consciously
understanding the eternal future as involving a restored89 Wright, N.T., Surprised by Hope, p.10490 Romans 8:2191 Romans 8:18-2592 Well illustrated by Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress: Bunyan, J., The Pilgrim’sProgress (in Modern English), Bridge-Logos, Florida, 1998 (original 1678)
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earth and a second Eden, some of which is to be
experienced, or brought into being, however partially,
in this life.93 Very few modern scholars would maintain
this rather Platonic view, and one recent polemic
against it is Wright’s Surprised by Hope,94 which is
something of a condensed version of his more seminal The
Resurrection of the Son of God.95
For Wright, the New Testament, regarded as the primary
doctrinal source by most churches, is crystal clear.
Paul speaks of ‘the redemption of our bodies.’96 In other
words, God’s people are promised a new type of bodily
existence, the fulfilment and redemption of our present
bodily life. Drawing upon 1 Corinthians 15:35ff & 2
Corinthians 4 & 5, this future body is one ‘put on over’
our existing bodies, which are presently subject to
decay and death; the new bodies shall be glorious and
vivid compared to the shadow we now know. They will no
longer be ‘powered’ by the life force we now have,
psychikos, but by God’s pneumos, God’s breath of new life.
The new and eternal life that God gives in that
resurrection is an embodied and a transformed life; the
resurrection body is soma pneumatikon, a ‘body animated by
the Spirit’.97
93 A view alluded to in Davies, D.J., A Brief History of Death, p. 694 Wright, N.T., Surprised by Hope, SPCK, London, 2007, and a subject to which I shall return in chapter 595 Wright, N.T., The Resurrection of the Son of God, SPCK, London, 200396 In Romans 8:23 This is explored further in Wright, N.T., The Resurrection, p207ff97 1 Cor.15:44
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If that is to be the case at the time of the Parousia, the
Last Day or the coming again of Jesus, what then is the
fate of those who have died before that time? Within the
New Testament there is evidence for two possible
scenarios, subject to scholarly interpretation. First is
the immediate sharing at death of the new life with
Christ (of heaven), and the second is that those who die
‘in Christ’ sleep, or rather enter an intermediate state
until that Last Day, awaiting the fulfilment of
resurrection at the end of this age. Wright posits that
bodily resurrection will happen upon Christ’s second
coming, when he completes his act of new creation. For
him, the Apostle Paul speaks of an intermediate state, a
place where the faithful departed rest from this life
before the resurrection life that commences upon
Christ’s return.98 This is not a view universally held,
as we shall see. For instance Beasley-Murray finds no
evidence to suggest that there is any intermediate
state, rather that resurrection occurs immediately upon
death.99
We therefore need to look more closely at a sample of
the New Testament texts that speak of the promise of
imminent ‘paradise’, of treasure being stored up in
98 Wright, N.T., Surprised by Hope, p.160-169 for his argument on the precise meaning and progression of this new bodily life.99 Beasley-Murray, P., The Message of the Resurrection, IVP, Leicester, 2000, p153
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heaven for us and of our citizenship being in heaven.100
Perhaps the most famous words of hope in the face of
death are given by Jesus to a ‘sinner’ on the cross next
to his: ‘Today you will be with me in Paradise’.101
Firstly we need to note that ‘Paradise’ is a Persian
word meaning ‘garden’ and is used in the Old Testament
of a number of gardens.102 Its most important use is for
the Garden of Eden. It came to be used for the home of
the righteous.103 In using the word here Jesus alludes to
two important developments. Firstly this unrighteous man
will be welcomed to live henceforth among the righteous,
and secondly that a work of cosmic re-creation would
mean the Garden of Eden, from which humankind had been
expelled, was being restored. The dwelling of men and
women would once more be with God.104 For Wright the
understanding of immediacy which one may easily read
from the word ‘today’ at the beginning of Jesus’
pronouncement has long been misread.105 He argues that
Luke’s overall theological understanding leaves no room
for doubt that there would still have to be a future
completion involving ultimate resurrection, after all,
this was Good Friday and Jesus would not rise again
until Easter Sunday, so ‘today’ must hold another 100 E.g. such as found in Luke, John and 1Peter 1 and Philippians 3101 Luke 23:43102 Morris, L., Luke Tyndale New Testament Commentaries, IVP, Leicester, 1988, p.359103 Tidball, D., The Message of the Cross, IVP, Leicester, 2001, p. 162104 2 Corinthians 12:3; Revelation 2:7; 21:1-5; 22:1-5 cf. Tidball, Cross, p. 162 and Morris, Luke, p. 359105 Wright, N.T., Surprised by Hope, p.162
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meaning prior to the resurrection.106
With Jesus the future hope has come forwards to the present. For those who die in faith, before the final reawakening, the central promise is being ‘with Jesus’ at once.107
Wright argues that this text need not point to our final
retirement there, but to it as a blissful garden of rest
and tranquillity, where the dead are refreshed as they
await the dawn of the new day. In a two-stage post-mortem
future, Paradise is the resting place prior to bodily
resurrection.108
Similarly, Wright interprets the heaven of 1 Peter 1:3b-
4, as being a way of speaking of God holding our
inheritance until he brings them to us in the new life
in the new heaven and the new earth.109
… we have been born anew to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ fromthe dead and to an inheritance which is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you.110
He is categorical that this heaven is not where you go
to enjoy your inheritance. He uses the analogy of a
friend keeping some beer in a fridge for you and that
this does not mean that you have to get into the fridge
to enjoy it!111 Few commentators address this point 106 Ibid p.163107 Ibid108 Ibid109 Ibid p.164110 1 Peter 1:3b-4 111 Wright, N.T., Surprised by Hope, p.164
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directly here.
Yet perhaps the text that has given rise to major
differences in interpretation, either supporting
Wright’s view or dismissing it, is found in 2
Corinthians 5. Here, Paul uses a metaphor from his part-
time occupation as a tentmaker. He likens this current
life to a vast transit camp of impermanent tents.
However:
… we know that if the earthly tent we live inis destroyed, we have a building from God, aneternal house in heaven, not built by human hands.112
This building is not defined. According to Beasley-
Murray the most natural interpretation is to see the
house as representing the new resurrection body.113
Another possibility is to view the house as a home (even
a heavenly temple) where there is room for many. Whilst
this would harmonise with the teaching of Jesus in John
14:1-3114 it is a less likely interpretation.115 Wright
would concur with Beasley-Murray in this,116 however, it
is not the main point of contention. That relates to the
question of whether or not Paul implies there is an
intermediate state between death and final resurrection,
when Christ returns and finishes his work of re-
creation. The traditional view is that Paul wishes to 112 2 Corinthians 5:1113 Beasley-Murray, P., Resurrection, p152114 Also with Mark 14:58 and John 2:19115 Beasley-Murray, P., Resurrection, , p152116 Wright, N.T., Surprised by Hope, p.165
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avoid having to experience some kind of ‘disembodied’
intermediate state between his death and resurrection at
the coming of the Lord (thus implying that there is such
a state). Paul would much prefer to still be alive when
the Lord returns thus avoiding being ‘naked’ in this
disembodied state, which is abhorrent to any good Jew.
Instead he longs to put on God’s new heavenly dwelling.117
The second view dismisses this, stating that Paul had no
thought of an ‘intermediate state’, rather he simply
longed to be clothed with the new spiritual body118 and
was repudiating the view of some Corinthians who longed
for a ‘disembodied’ existence, denying future
resurrection.119 This is clearly Beasley-Murray’s
preferred option. Whilst Wright firmly protests that we
must think of resurrection as being bodily resurrection,
rather than Platonic disembodiment, he maintains that
there must be an intermediate resting place (the
heavenly garden) for those who are waiting for bodily
resurrection at the second coming of the Lord.120 His view
is not without merit. Whatever conclusion one may come
to, the fact remains that the central teaching of the
Christian faith is of certain hope of life beyond the
grave.
Beyond the Biblical texts, numerous authors have
explored the centrality of Christ’s death as a means of 117 2 Corinthians 5:4; Beasley-Murray, P., Resurrection, p153118 Cf. 1 Corinthians 15:44119 Beasley-Murray, P., Resurrection, p153120 Wright, N.T., Surprised by Hope, p.183 – 187
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understanding both the human predicament and human
destiny. Important and representative historical
examples would include Augustine’s City of God,121 Anselm’s
Cur Deus Homo?122 to James Denney’s influential book The
Death of Christ123 and to John Bowker’s theological account
of death and transcendence.124
More widely recognised is the symbol of the Crucifix, a
cross holding a dying or dead body of Jesus, or the
empty cross – symbolising Christ’s victory over death.
The central act of the Christian community – the
Eucharist or celebration of the Lord’s Supper – is the
place where the death and resurrection of Jesus are
regularly remembered and rehearsed through the symbolic
representation of crucified Christ’s broken body and
shed blood in the elements of the bread and wine, ‘ the
deep fact of death and the high hope of resurrection… is
integrally related to the consumption of sacramental
food’.125
Still further, baptism by immersion provides symbolic
confirmation that those who ‘die with Christ’ by
descending into the waters of baptism (a watery grave
where the old nature dies and is buried) and ‘rise to
new life in Christ’ as they ascend from the water, will 121 Trans Henry Bettenson, Penguin Classics, Harmonsworth, 2003122 Trans E.S. Prout, Religious Tract Society, London (no date) (Section xv)123 Denny, J., The Death of Christ, Hodder & Stoughton, London, 1902124 Bowker, John, The Meaning of Death, CUP, Cambridge, 1991.125 Davies, D.J., Death, Ritual and Belief, p126
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similarly rise from death with Christ at the end of this
mortal life. 126
All this has contributed to Christianity having become,
from its earliest days, a religion with a strong concern
for death and ultimate human destiny as a transcendence
of death. Hope and meaning are conveyed for the
faithful, be they alive or departed this life.
Christianity links death to the world of mortality
through its idea of sin, especially in the Apostle
Paul’s doctrine of the Fall of Humanity. This speaks of
sin entering into God’s perfect world through human
disobedience (from the first Adam grasping after
equality with God) and of death emerging as a
consequence of sin. Jesus becomes the second Adam whose
obedient life and willing death brings restoration of
spiritual life to men and women as the sting of death is
drawn through Christ’s resurrection.127
In terms of practical symbolism, as we have seen, death
and decay are viewed as the outcome of disobedience and
sin. This is the origin of the phrase ‘earth to earth,
dust to dust’, for the book of Genesis describes God
126 This is commonly understood within my own tradition, for a more comprehensive exposition of baptism in this tradition see the seminal work G. R., Beasley-Murray, Baptism in the New Testament, Eerdmans, Grand Rapids, 1973; It is also acknowledged that other traditions also prefer Baptism by immersion.127 Romans 5:12-17; Philippians 2. It must also be noted that there is continuing and wide ranging debate about the exact meanings of these metaphors with which I do not have the remit or the space to engage further in this thesis.
74
informing Adam that his disobedience means that,
henceforth, only hard work will earn bread from the very
soil, for, ‘out of it you were taken; you are dust, and
to dust you shall return.’128
The dominant theme in Christian interpretation of the
death of Jesus is atonement – the belief that this death
restored a disrupted relationship between God and
humanity. There are different theories of atonement
which will not be rehearsed again here;129 suffice it to
say that Christ’s death is a polysemic symbol – bearing
different meanings. But as far as death itself is
concerned, the significance of the traditional account
of the death of Jesus lies in the paradoxical belief
that his body did not return to dust through decay, but
was, divinely, transformed into a resurrection body. The
link between sin and death was broken and a new bond
forged between Jesus’ resurrection and the future
128 Genesis 3:19129 Again I do not have the space in this thesis to do justice to theconsiderable debate on atonement theories. A helpful guide to the contemporary debates surrounding atonement theories is Graham A. Cole’s God the Peacemaker, NSBT 25, IVP, Leicester, 2009, which touches on subjects such as the debate about the centrality of penalsubstitution; the debate about the morality of penal substitution; he considers whether moral influence and exemplarist theories are atonement theories; he further considers whether there is healing inthe atonement, looks at the Holy Saturday debate and briefly surveysnon-violent atonement theories. Cf. Steve Jeffery, Mike Ovey, & Andrew Sach, Pierced for our Transgressions: Rediscovering the glory of penal substitution, IVP, Leicester, 2007; Derek Tidball, David Hilborn, and Justin Thacker (eds.) The Atonement Debate: Papers from the London Symposium on the Theology of Atonement, (London School of Theology),Zondervan, Grand Rapids, 2008, includes contributions from Steve Chalke, Chris Wright, I. Howard Marshall and Joel Green; Chalke, S.,& Mann, A., The Lost Message of Jesus, Zondervan, Grand Rapids, 2003.
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resurrection of believers.
Some historical developments post-Biblical times
As the Christian faith spread into the Hellenistic and
Roman world, into a very different context to its Jewish
Semitic roots, it spread into a world which often
believed strongly in the immortality of the soul.130 Greek
mythology, like Egyptian mythology, had been fascinated
by the journey of the soul into the mysterious realm
beyond the grave. In Greek mythology the ferryman,
Charon, conveyed the soul of the departed across the Styx,
the dark river of the underworld.131 Early Christian
funeral liturgy appears to have adapted this journey
theme, such as the anthem In Paradisum which prays that
the angels may lead the departed to paradise.132 Again the
Greek custom of placing a coin in the mouth of the
corpse to pay the fee to Charon for the crossing was
adapted by placing the Sacrament (the Viaticum or food for
130 Rowell, G., ‘Changing patterns: Christian beliefs about death andthe future life’, in Jupp, P.C. and Rogers, T., (eds.) Interpreting Death, Cassell, London, 1997, p. 18; Tom Wright in Surprised by Hope SPCK, London, 2007 (NB. p.39) has recently renewed the challenge onthe view of the Christian ‘soul’ and its immortality as being too much a construct of Greco-Roman thought, Platonic in origin, rather than originating in Christian Scripture. Again Joel Green and NanceyMurphy have sought to discredit the Platonic thought of an Immortal Soul, by reference to both theological understanding and neural-scientific developments in understanding of how the body and mind function: cf Murphy, Nancey, Bodies, Souls or Spirited Bodies, CUP, Cambridge, 2006 and Green, Joel, Body, Soul and Human Life, Paternoster Press, Carlisle, 2008 131 Rowell, G., The Liturgy of Christian Burial, SPCK, London, 1977, p.14132 Rowell, G., The Liturgy of Christian Burial, p.116-17, 61
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the journey) into the mouth of the faithful departed.133
As Rowell states:
Yet, in accordance with Jewish practice, and Christian reverence for the body, Christians buried their dead. Cremation was associated with Roman pagan practice.134
The defence of burial by the Church is understandable in
terms of the traditional imagery it demonstrates. With
burial the image is of seeds placed in the ground, they
appear to die but are resurrected into new life. There
is continuity between what has been buried, for instance
an acorn, and the new life which it is brought into
fulfilment in the oak tree which emerges. Yet at the
same time there is a transformation; the oak does not
look like the acorn.
The analogy is with the body sown in death and raised in
new life as the soma pneumatikon. This idea that from the
earth God may bring new life from a body ‘planted’ in
death is not solely Greek but to be found in Inter-
testamental literature.135
However helpful this symbolism is, it does lead us to
insist that burial is the only legitimate means of
Christian disposal of bodily remains. Davies argues for
a theology of disposal that incorporates many forms
including cremation as being consistent with Christian 133 Cf. Rowell, G., ‘Changing patterns’, p. 19134 Rowell, G., ‘Changing patterns’, p. 19135 E.g. Sirach 17:1
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belief in the resurrection.136 Yet as we shall soon note,
this is a relatively late development in practise.
There are other cross-cultural influences that have
influenced some Christian funeral liturgies. For
instance elements of classical mythology became
intertwined with the funeral liturgy over time. An
example of this is the Roman practice of including
funeral feasts held on anniversary dates at the
graveside which was replaced by the Church establishing
the practice of celebrating a Eucharist at the burial
place of the martyrs. This, again, in time, developed
into the Requiem Mass which commended the soul to God
and prayed for forgiveness of sins and deliverance from
judgement. A theology was elaborated which spoke of a
‘particular judgement’ of each individual after death,
which was uneasily related to the Last Judgement at the
end of time, drawing on the parable of the sheep and the
goats137.
It was during the thousand years of the Middle Ages that
Western Christianity elaborated a conception of the
world into which souls passed beyond death. The ultimate
reference points were the poles of heaven and hell.
Heaven was the place of union and communion with God
open to the righteous in Christ. Hell was the place of
136Davies, D.J., Cremation Today and Tomorrow, Alcuin/GROW Books, Nottingham, 1990 & Davies, D.J., Theologies of Disposal, in Jupp, P.C. and Rogers, T., (eds.) Interpreting Death, Cassell, London, 1997, Chapter 6137 Matthew 25:31-46
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everlasting torment and condemnation where the damned
suffered the twin pains of poena damni (the pain of the
loss of God) and poena sensus (the pains of the
punishment).138 Yet some believed that between these two
destinations was an intermediate category where:
Most of those who believed in the existence of an intermediate category held that the dead awaiting admission to heaven would have to undergo some kind of purgation.139
This appeared to be based on the apostle Paul’s
reference in 1 Corinthians 3:13-15 that at the Last Day
every person’s work would be tested by fire and that the
one who is saved ‘will be as one who has gone through
fire’, and from this the place or time of purgation was
thought of as a purifying fire.
Between the fourth and eleventh centuries the Christian
custom of commending the dead became focused on this
intermediate stage. From the twelfth century onwards
there was considerable growth both in the descriptions
of purgatory and the associated practices of the
multiplication of masses for the dead, and also the
increasing role of the Church authorities in the
regulation of the system of penance beyond death in the
practice of indulgences, granting remission of time in
purgatory in return for devotional exercises, including
giving to the Church, or going on pilgrimage or
138 Rowell, G., ‘Changing patterns’, p. 20139LeGoff, J., The Birth of Purgatory, Scholar, London, 1984, p.133
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crusades. In Dante’s Divine Comedy the medieval geography
of life after death is elaborated in the poet’s journey
through Hell and Purgatory to Paradise and the Vision of
God. Although in many respects Purgatory and Hell
resemble each other, Purgatory for Dante is entered by a
narrow gate, unlike the broad gate of hell, and strains
towards paradise.140 Le Goff notes that as early as the
thirteenth century:
Purgatory dramatised the end of earthly existence and charged it with an intensity compounded of mingled fear and hope. The essential choice between heaven and hell could still be played out at the last moment,since Purgatory was the ante-chamber of Paradise. The last instants of life became man’s last chance.141
Yet by the late fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries,
purgatory was often viewed as an out-patient department of hell
requiring prayers to be said by the next of kin each
week for their departed relatives in purgatory. This
cult of the dead meant that:140 Dante Alighieri, Trans: Rev. H.F. Cary's (1772 - 1844) http://www2.hn.psu.edu/faculty/jmanis/dante.htmIn summary: Written by Dante Alighieri in 1306 - 21. It is divided into 3 sections: Inferno (Hell), Purgatorio (Purgatory), and Paradiso (Paradise). Dante, the Pilgrim is the main character in the Comedia. Dante Pilgrim has not been a good boy. His dead love Beatrice asks the Virgin Mary to help him see the error of his ways.Mary accepts and Dante is sent on a three-day trip through Hell, andon up Mount Purgatory on the other side of the world, and finally toParadise in the sky. He is spiritually lost at the beginning of the story, so he needs guides to help him along the path. His first guide, through Hell and Purgatory is Virgil. They encounter many interesting sinners on the way. Dante learns to hate sin. His secondguide is Beatrice, the woman he adored while she lived. His final guide is Saint Bernard, who takes him to see God.141LeGoff, J., The Birth of Purgatory, Scholar, London, 1984, p.358
80
Funerals in late medieval England ... were intensely concerned with the notion of community, a community in which the living and the dead were not separated, in which bonds of affection, duty, and blood continuedto bind. The means of this transaction between the living and the dead was charity, maintained and expressed in prayer. The dead,whose names were recited week by week in the bede-roll at the parish Mass remained part ofthe communities they had once lived in, and the objects they left for use in the worship of the community preserved their names and evoked gratitude of the living towards them.142
The theology of the Reformation attacked the notion of
purgatory as having no grounding in scripture and as
appealing to a theology of salvation earned by good
works, not faith in Christ. Prayer for the dead was seen
as inextricably linked to the belief in purgatory and
although it survived in the English Prayer Book of 1549,
it had no place in the more Protestant book of 1552.
Attachment to the old Prayer Book rites which marked the
end, as well as the beginning, of an earthly life is
easily discerned in the record of the Church courts,
helpfully outlined and illustrated by Maltby in Prayer
Book and People.143 The intensity of feeling revealed by
these cases invites further reflection on the impact of
the Reformation on attitudes to death and disposal.
Maltby posits:
142LeGoff, J., Ibid, p.474-5143Maltby, J., Prayer Book and People, CUP, Cambridge, 1998, pp. 56-59
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… by destroying the vast and resonant symbolic structures that accompanied dying and surrounded the departed, the Reformers broke the bond the living felt for the dead. The rejection of purgatory continued this process at an intellectual level. Ritually and theologically the living were cut adrift from the dead.144
Duffy comments perceptively on the ‘culture’ of medieval
death and its destruction. For him the greatest moment
of discontinuity with the past in the Prayer Book rite
lay not in its use of the vernacular or the forsaking of
many popular rituals but in the abandoning of any direct
form of speech to the deceased in the liturgy. The 1552
Prayer Book burial service:
was no longer a rite of intercession on behalf of the dead, but an exhortation to faith on the part of the living.145
At the committal the minister turns away from the corpse
to the congregation to address the mourners at the point
where in the past he would have addressed the corpse.
The person is spoken not to, but about, as one no longer here, but precisely as departed: the boundaries of human community have been redrawn.146
All the Reformation orders for burial of the dead were a
severe simplification of the elaborate medieval funeral
ceremonies with the Eucharist no longer to be practised 144Ibid p.59145Duffy, E., The Striping of the Altars: Traditional Religion in England 1400-1580, Yale University Press, New Haven, 1992, p475146Ibid
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at funeral services. The Directory of 1644, which largely
reproduces a book of discipline compiled by the English
Puritan divine, Walter Travers, in 1586, states:
When any person departeth this life, let the dead body, upon the day of burial, be decently attended from the house to the placeappointed for public burial, and there immediately interred without any ceremony.And because the custom of kneeling down, and praying by or towards the dead corpse, and other such usages, in the place where it lies, before it be carried to burial, are superstitious; and for that praying, reading,and singing, both in going to and at the grave, have been grossly abused, are no way beneficial to the dead, and have proved [in] many ways hurtful to the living; therefore, let all such things be laid aside. Howbeit, we judge it very convenient, that the Christian friends which accompany the dead body ... do apply themselves to meditations and conferences suitable to the occasion: andthat the minister ... if he be present, may put them in remembrance of their duty.147
The Reformation, then, has deeply affected the English
liturgy of the funeral as it saw the abolition of prayer
for the dead, requiem masses and belief in purgatory. In
so doing it moved the centre of the funeral service
liturgy from a focus on the departed to an exhortation
of the living. This created, it is argued, a certain
discontinuity in community between living and dead.
147Directory for Public Worship, cited in Cressy, D., & Ferrell, L.A., Religion and Society in Early Modern England: a sourcebook, Routledge, London, 1996, pp. 191-192; and Rowell, G., The Liturgy of Christian Burial, SPCK, London, 1977, p.83
83
Nevertheless, Beaver gives example of seventeenth
century funerals where attendances appear to be high,148
and whilst purgatory may have slipped out of the mind of
the collective culture, the dead had not done so
entirely. Towards the end of the reign of Elizabeth I,
Richard Hooker observed:
The end of funeral duties is first to show that love toward the party deceased which nature requireth; then to do him that honour which is fit both generally for man and particularly for the quality of his person; last of all to testify the care which the Church hath to comfort the living and the hope which we all have concerning the resurrection of the dead.149
Whilst this view may not have been held theologically by
all, it may be an articulate expression of a widely held
belief then, as indeed now. Yet before we see this as
the theology and paradigm for funeral rites today, we
must note that during the late nineteenth century and
certainly during the twentieth century we have seen the
re-emergence of both prayers for the dead and requiem
masses150. This revival was founded out of a concern to
meet the needs of the bereaved during the slaughter of
the First World War, and was championed by William
Temple in a sermon in Westminster Abbey on All Saints’
Day 1919:148Beaver, D., ‘Sown in Dishonour Raised in Glory: Death, Ritual and Social Organization in Northern Gloucestershire, 1590-1690’, Social History, 17, 3 (1992) pp. 401-404149Cited in Maltby, J., Prayer Book and People, CUP, Cambridge, 1998, p. 61150 Rowell, G., ‘Changing patterns’, p. 26
84
Let us pray for those who we know and love and have passed on to the other life… But do not be content to pray for them. Let us also ask them to pray for us.151
Yet, however this resurrection life was interpreted,
this narrative of destiny, of death, atonement and
resurrection, transformed death into a moment of
glorious hope with a litany of meaning. It was because
of this that many could endure martyrdom. Such
transcending journeys provide a powerful experience of
passing from one level of understanding to another, when
ordinary life is given the opportunity to embrace
mystery, awe and wonder, which enables people to see and
experience the extraordinariness of life and death and
to embrace the latent sense of adventure in the human
spirit. This is, foundationally, what hope is, ‘an
attitude towards the future which anticipates greater
knowledge and a wider explanatory vision.’152
In other words hope helps us to find meaning in
situations beyond our previous experience and
understanding. Faith and hope stand closely together,
they promote optimism and create a fertile environment
for human fortitude and endeavour. Whilst death brings
perhaps the greatest challenges to human significance
and dignity, hope fuels the process of finding meaning
even in the face of this final enemy: ‘Hope counters 151 Cited in Wilkinson A., The Church of England and the First World War SPCK, London, 1996 (reprint, 1978 original)152 Davies, D.J., A Brief History of Death, p. 11
85
despair, that sense of impossibility that fosters
inactivity… allowing all that is feared, to triumph.’153
How death is faced is especially important in this
context. Death is one of the prime moments in life. When
individuals, and exceptionally communities, are prone to
a sense of loss of purpose, worthlessness and
hopelessness, it is precisely in these circumstances
that less-stricken members of community bring their
sense of hope to bear upon the hopeless. It is through
the funeral ritual that people tell their stories of the
meaning of life and enact that overcoming in ritual
form. Here it is that the agreed-upon social conventions
of how to deal with the dead and the bereaved come into
play. The perceived reality of the universe is brought
into focus within which death is only a part of the
greater whole. Thus how we deal with death is materially
affected by the world view held.
Modern Narratives on Death
We now seek to bring this historical context from
ancient foundations and developing understanding to a
time closer to today. There have been varied
contributions made by particular academic disciplines to
the study of death.
Historical approaches trace changing attitudes towards 153 Ibid p. 12
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death. Philippe Aries is one of the academics best known
for his analysis of death in European societies. Aries
charts the history of perception about death in Europe,
starting with a pre-twelfth century view that death was
‘tame’ – that is something inevitable and natural; part
of life’s rhythm. Following this came a long period of a
more individual focus on death, until in the eighteenth
century people became increasingly interested in the
death of others. Yet in the twentieth century death
became something ‘unnameable’.154 Aries’ ‘broad-brush’
survey, invaluable as it is, always needs to be
complemented by more detailed analysis of particular
countries.
John Wolffe provided this for patterns of grieving in
the nineteenth and twentieth centuries in Great
Britain.155 He showed how the deaths and funerals of
famous public figures affected the nation and helped
frame the experience of ordinary people in their own
domestic grief. For example, he paralleled the funeral
of Gladstone with that of Diana, Princess of Wales,
highlighting not only the public outpouring of grief at
their particular funerals but also the patterns
subsequently adopted domestically mirroring elements of
the liturgy of these public funerals.156
154 Aries, P., Western Attitudes towards Death From the Middle Ages to the Present, Marion Boyars, London, 1974155 Wolffe, J., Great Deaths, Grieving, Religion, and Nationhood in Victorian and Edwardian Britain, The British Academy, OUP, 2000156 For example the use of a piece of favourite music that held meaning for the deceased and/or an association with the deceased for
87
Whilst again there is great value in these socio-
historical perspectives, theological perspectives of
death provide perhaps more extensive avenues of
approach, largely because religions have provided the
major means of dealing with death in human societies.
Furthermore, theological understandings of death are
intimately bound up with death rituals as, in religion,
as Davies posits:
Death is not simply or even primarily a question of philosophical reflection but of ritual action and of relating wider experiences of worship to the specific of death. Within theological method, then, the history of death also becomes the history of death ritual.157
This is an avenue I will return to in greater detail
later. Yet whilst considering the perspectives of
different academic disciplines we must not overlook the
contributions of anthropology and sociology in our
understanding of how people deal with death. In
particular they have shown how individual identity
relates to wider society, and how that is affected by
the place of ancestors and deities. They have shown how
people’s identities are changed through the death of
each member of society.
One of the early major studies was conducted by Arnold
the bereaved.157 Davies, D.J., A Brief History of Death, p. 18
88
van Gennep (1873-1957) who first employed the term rites of
passage.158 He saw these rites as a means whereby
individuals might be eased, without undue social
disruption, through the difficulties of transition from
one social group to another. In this way, for instance,
Mary, whose husband had recently died, would make the
change from being ‘wife of John’ to being ‘widow of
John’.
Van Gennep proposed three distinguishable and
consecutive stages in this process:
Separation or Pre-Liminal (before the threshold);
Transition or Liminal (at the threshold);
Incorporation or Post-Liminal (past the threshold).
The person or group on whom the rite focuses is first
symbolically separated from his or her old status, then
undergoes adjustment to the new status during the period
of transition.
Finally there is incorporation into society with a new
social status.
The rituals associated with the care of the bereaved and
the disposal of the dead do not replace the grief
process, but rather offer a helpful structure or
framework to aid the process and the transition.
Ainsworth-Smith and Speck posit that the ritual, or rite
158Van Gennep, A., The Rites of Passage, trans. M.B. Vizedom and G.L.Caffee, Routledge & Kegan Paul, London, 1960 (original 1909).
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of passage, to be useful in this must to be relevant to
the needs of the bereaved at three levels:
The Psychological level - by giving a framework for the full
expression of feeling (grief) and to reduce anxiety;
The Theological Level - by which one seeks to make some sense
and meaning out of what is experienced, in relation to
the goal one is aiming for; and
The Sociological Level - through sharing the experience with
others and being re-accepted into society with a new
status.159
Davies echoes this analysis: ‘Ritual, as shared forms of
patterned activity, focuses on significant social values
and helps express how a people view the world and
themselves.’160
Indeed Davies elsewhere defines identity as the way
people understand themselves in relation to other
persons, to the world around them and to supernatural
realms, it is for him a consequence of self-
consciousness within a particular social network and in
a particular language.161
Significant sociologists have contributed to this
discussion of developing understanding of the way
individuals and society react in the face of death. 159Cf. Ainsworth-Smith, I., & Speck, P., Letting Go, SPCK, London, 1994 p.62160 Davies, D.J., A Brief History of Death, p. 50161 Davies, D.J., Death, Ritual and Belief, p. 4
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Durkheim posited that ‘the foundation of mourning is the
impression of a loss which the group feels when it loses
one of its members.’162
Malinowski countered Durkheim by arguing that death
touches individuals’ private lives (as opposed to social
lives) deeply.163 He speaks of the mixed emotions of
longing, fear and disgust associated with the dead and
focuses on the ‘double edged play of hope and fear which
sets in always in the face of death.’164
For Malinowski religion helped people choose and
emphasise the sense of hope in life rather than the
sense of fear; giving them conviction to continue rather
than despair. His conviction was that religious mortuary
ritual ‘saves man from surrender to death and
destruction’ and reinforces ‘the desire for life’.165
Funeral rites for him serve to assist individuals over a
period of distress as well as expressing the social loss
of a member of society. This reflects a ‘life promoting’
ritual which helps to overcome hopelessness.166
Bauman follows this thread of death being seen as a
profound problem that may swamp human beings and their 162 Durkheim, E., The Elementary Forms of Religious Life, George Allen and Unwin, London 1915/1976, p401 163 Malinowski, B., Magic, Science, Religion and Other Essays, Souvenir Press, London, 1974, p. 59 164 Ibid, p. 51165 Ibid166 A term coined by Hocart, A. M., The Life Giving Myth, Tavistock, London1973, pp 46, 47.
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own will to live.167 For him, society and its institution
conspire to hide death and give the impression that
death is under control. Death rites add to the
conspiracy, speedily removing the dead from the sight
and mind of the living. He proposed that the living
needed to grieve properly for the dead and in this the
community context was important to hold the bereaved
whilst they faced death and find hope. The individual’s
response to death is framed by their social group,
whether comprising of kin, friends, and neighbours or
just paid professionals.
Victor Turner explored this further168, developing van
Gennep’s idea of the liminal period (limen in Latin
meaning ‘threshold’). Turner explored the dynamics of
what happens to people when thrown together in periods
of stress and change of identity. He developed the
concept of communitas to describe shared, fellow-feelings
of unity and empathy, in these circumstances. In his
dissertation, published as Schism and Continuity in African
Society169, he introduced the concept of social dramas,
which he elaborated on in later works. Social dramas
exist as a result of the conflict that is inherent in
societies. Social dramas are ‘public episodes of
167 Bauman, Z., Mortality, Immortality, Polity Press, London, 1992168 Turner, Victor W., The Ritual Process: Structure And Anti-structure Aldine Publishing Company, Chicago, 1969, p. 95. 169 Turner, Victor W., Schism and continuity in an African society: A study of Ndembu village life, Manchester University Press, Manchester, 1957 (revised & reprinted 1968)
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tensional irruption.’170
Based on his fieldwork among the Ndembu, Turner asserted
that social dramas have four main phases of public
action, accessible to observation: breach, crisis,
redressive action, and reintegration.
The first phase is signalled by the public, overt breach
or deliberate non-fulfilment of some crucial norm
regulating the intercourse of the parties. Once a breach
occurs a phase of mounting crisis supervenes in which the
breach widens and extends the separation between the
parties.
The crisis phase has ‘liminal characteristics, since it
is a threshold between more or less stable phases of the
social process.’171
The third phase of redressive action occurs to limit the
spread of the crisis with ‘certain adjustive and
redressive mechanisms . . . [which] are swiftly brought
into operation by leading or structurally representative
members of the disturbed social system.’172
Turner further identifies the mechanisms of this phase:
170 Turner, V. Dramas, fields and metaphors: Symbolic action in human society, Cornell University Press, Ithaca, NY., 1974, p.33171 Ibid p. 39172 Ibid
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They may range from personal advice and informal mediation or arbitration to formal juridical and legal machinery, and, to resolve certain kinds of crisis or legitimateother modes of resolution, to the performanceof public ritual.173
Some mechanisms may not work; in which case regression
to the crisis phase occurs. The redressive phase is the
most liminal because it is in the middle of the crisis
and the resolution. It is in this phase that the liminal
ritual may be enacted to resolve the crisis and provide
an opportunity for the final phase of reintegration to
occur.
The reintegration phase involves the resolution of the
conflict by reintegrating the disturbed group into
society or by the ‘social recognition and legitimization
of irreparable schism between the contesting parties.’174
This four-phase model fits into van Gennep's phases of
rites of passage. Breach and crisis correspond to van
Gennep's separation phase, redress aligns with the
transition phase of rites of passage and reintegration
represents van Gennep's incorporation phase. Turner
extended van Gennep's phases to include the public
conflict of social dramas.
Another who wishes to develop van Gennep’s theory of
173 Ibid174 Ibid
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rites of passage further is Bloch. He observed the power
of ritual in people’s lives and specifically that
religion and many local traditions turned the biological
fact of death around. Whilst it is obvious that we are
born, grow old and die as a natural progression, these
rituals start with death and proceed to a higher level
of ‘life’.175 This is done symbolically through ritual and
rites of initiation.
Bloch argued that whilst van Gennep focussed on social
status, there should also be an existential element to
the rites. He suggests that through these rituals
individuals encounter some sort of transcendent power or
dimension. This sensation influences their lives, giving
a sense of becoming different people in some way. They
feel empowered and that their identity has in some
positive way changed through contact with the
transcendent power. This becomes especially clear when
the language of ritual speaks of the individual’s old
nature being killed or transformed by a new nature, as
though humanity interrupts the natural process of birth,
growth, and death and replaces it in a symbolic way with
a process of ritual death and ritual rebirth.
For example, in the Christian tradition there is a very
strong belief that because of sin and wickedness human
life ends with death as a natural process. But because
175 Bloch, M., Prey into Hunter – The Politics of Religious Experience, CUP, Cambridge, 1992; Cf. Davies, D.J., Death, Ritual and belief, p. 19ff
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of divinely initiated salvation it is now possible for
people to become Christians and accordingly, to overcome
death. The symbolism is carried in the initiation rite
of baptism, through which the old nature of humanity –
involving death and destruction – come to an end as the
baptised person is born again in a spiritual sense. This
new birth takes place here and now and means that when
the physical body dies, the Christian will not
ultimately die but will, by God’s grace, mercy and
power, be caused to continue to live in an afterlife. In
other words, new birth begins a process that does not
end in death.176
Bloch’s ideas are important as they move us beyond
simply agreeing with Durkheim that funeral rites help us
to reintegrate into society; or assenting to
Malinowski’s view that the bereaved simply need
community support; or even van Gennep’s view that social
changes need to be ritually performed. Indeed Bloch’s
ideas can be extended to consider death rites as a
critical tool in giving new life and hope and meaning
and identity to those left behind. Without that life and
176 It is acknowledged that there are diverse views within the Christian tradition on the fate of the deceased whether or not they make an overt confession of faith or are baptised. These range from Universalist positions whereby all are saved from eternal death, to Exclusivist positions whereby only those confessing Christian faith and baptised into that faith attain ‘heavenly paradise’ whereas those who do not are condemned to ‘hell’. A third group espousing an Annihilationist position acknowledge that only those who die in Christian faith will survive death. These positions are considered further, but still briefly in chapter 5.
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death is relatively absurd and pointless. Indeed
Kübler-Ross highlighted the fact that hope was a
profoundly important part of her dying patients’ outlook
on life in her seminal work in the field of care for the
dying: ‘If a patient stops expressing hope, it is
usually a sign of imminent death.’177
Christian theologies have grounded hope, not in simple
membership of a society, but in the very existence of
God as a transcending fact of life. In this framework,
people most often have hope because there actually
exists something greater than them in the reality of
God.178
Yet when a strong sense of religious belief or a sense
of commonly held and understood values within community
fades, this sense of hope becomes harder to grasp.
Should this lack of belief coincide with minimal
involvement from supportive social groups, as is
becoming evident in early twenty-first century urban
individualism, then the sense of hopelessness that
Bauman discussed is easily fostered.179 Any sense of
history and meaning as a significant dimension in life
is easily lost.
In this context, people can search for a sense of 177 Kübler-Ross, On Death and Dying, Tavistock-Routledge, London, 1970, p.123 [first published 1968]178 Cf. Williams, R., Dimbleby Lecture 2002, delivered 19/12/2002 www.guardian.co.uk/world/ 2002 /dec/19/religion.uk Cf, Moltmann, J., Theology of Hope, SCM, London 1969179 Bauman, Z., Mortality, Immortality, Polity Press, London, 1992
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meaning and purpose in history through attributing blame
and ensuring ‘lessons are learnt so that nobody else
will have to die in such circumstances.’ In this way the
death of a loved one is saved from the fate of being
‘meaningless.’180 This is perhaps a marker of how
important hope is in society.
From this, we may ask: ‘who is the funeral for?’ Many
would answer it is for the bereaved. Augustine said that
all the elaborations that go with burial ‘are rather
comforts to the living than helps to the dead.’181
Certainly in the Twentieth century this view gained
ground, mainly among clergy,182 funeral directors and
other professionals working in the grief field. In law,
too, the funeral belongs to the next of kin. 183 The
deceased may have specified what they wish to happen to
their property and their intentions would have the force
of law, but their wish for what happens to their body is
only a stated preference and has no recourse in law. The
180 This tends to be in situations where the death is premature and unexpected, such as in traumatic events. These types of death are beyond the scope of my survey but Walter considers these in Walter, T., Revival of Death, Routledge, 1994181Augustine cited by Walter, T., in Funerals, p. 115182 Particularly in the Protestant tradition183 See my interview notes with the Crematorium Superintendent and Superintendent Registrar. It is at these points that the legal framework is most evident in the funeral process, although it is also acknowledged that Funeral Directors are well acquainted with the legal framework. It is also acknowledged that I have excluded any consideration of the Last Will & Testament and Probate issues. Suffice it to say here that the arrangement of the funeral is the responsibility of the next-of-kin and that they are not legally constrained by any a priori preferences expressed by the deceased as to the way the funeral is conducted.
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funeral belongs not to the dead but to the living.184 Yet
whilst the professionals focus on the bereaved, the
friends and family of the deceased focus on the
deceased, whether that be as a way of helping them on to
the next world, ‘giving them a good send-off’ or of
simply paying them respect.185 From this perspective then,
it is important to note that this event is more than a
rite of passage. It is at the same time a practical
matter of appropriately disposing of the remains, and it
is a major life event which needs to be understood in
the wider context of life. Again we may draw from the
rich resources of history and theology which at once
both honour the deceased and cater for the needs of
those left in life.
Yet before we consider theological developments and the
associated practice in the conduct of funeral services
and the disposal of the body, we turn to the changing
nature of the practicalities of disposal.
Removal of the dead - a brief survey of practical and symbolic factors in their historic contextRemoval of the dead is universally undertaken, how death
is explained is the variable element. Practically, the
body may be buried or cremated, it may be sunk at sea or184 Cf. Jupp, P.C. ‘Whose funeral is it anyway?’, in K. A. G. Elliot (Ed.) Report of the Joint Conference of the Burial and Cremation Authorities, Swansea 1995 and ‘The context of funeral ministry today’, in Jupp, P.C. and Rogers, T., (eds.) Interpreting Death, Cassell, London, 1997 p. 13185 All of these views were expressed to greater or lesser degrees inmy study, see interview transcripts of clients and summaries in chapter 2.
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in a lake, it may be exposed to the elements or to
animals in a remote place. These choices would not be
open to everyone but would be dependent on context and
physical availability. The physical fact remains that
bodies decay and require disposal. In England today two
choices face most people, burial or cremation, both of
which are long established practices.
For many centuries burial has been the dominant form of
disposal in this country, certainly since the advent of
Christianity. Historically, most people died at home and
were buried in their local and accessible parish
churchyard. Families, with help from neighbours and
perhaps the local joiners, would prepare the body, and
transport it to the Church for the funeral service and
then into the churchyard for burial. Such preparations
may have included the washing of the body as a last
loving action by the family for the deceased, covering
it in a shroud, digging the grave and even the funeral
rites themselves would have been local and familial. The
coffin may have been a common parish box unless the
deceased was particularly wealthy. As Cressy outlines,
the funerals would have been conducted very close to the
time of death, 95 percent within 48 hours and 41 percent
were buried the same day as there was no refrigeration
and no preservative in food to effect a prolonged period
before degradation of the physical remains.186 In 1661
186 Cressy, D., Birth, Marriage and Death: Ritual, Religion, and the Life Cycle in Tudor and Stuart England, OUP, Oxford, 1999 p.426
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Pepys records his experience of his uncle’s corpse
‘going off’ and writes of the smells and the decay187.
Open coffins were commonly used.
With the coming of the Industrial Revolution and
urbanisation, and indeed the rise of the large
conurbation, the logistics of disposing of the dead
altered and large municipal cemeteries on the edge of
towns or cities replaced the local churchyard as the
place of burial. They were like dormitories, sleeping
places for the dead, where they were laid to rest. This
in turn promoted developments in more efficient funeral
directing, particularly in the provision of transport to
more distant cemeteries. As Jupp asserts:
Just as in the eighteenth century, the role of the clergyman at deathbeds had been steadily taken over by the doctor, so the funeral director increasingly took over taskspreviously performed by families... watching at the bedside and waking by the open coffin has similarly passed to nursing, undertaking or mortuary staff whose ward is not continuous.188
The next major shift came with the promotion of
cremation by local authorities in the 1930s. It
signalled a rising interest in more economic forms of
disposal, which was encouraged by the Welfare State
187 Pepys Diary of 1661, July 6th, www.pepys.info/1661/1661.html also Cited in Cressy, D., Birth, Marriage and Death: Ritual, Religion, and the Life Cycle inTudor and Stuart England, OUP, Oxford, 1999, p.427188Jupp, P.C., ‘The context of funeral ministry today’, in Jupp, P.C.and Rogers, T., Interpreting Death, p. 8
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provisions of the Labour government of 1945-51189.
According to Jupp, its introduction of a range of
benefits for widowed people and for limited funeral
expenses symbolised a widely-held conviction that
funerals merited far less expenditure of both time and
money190. Cremation had only been legalised in England in
1884. However, there was reluctance by churches to
accept cremation at the end of the nineteenth century as
it separated the Church and the funeral service from the
burial place. Continuity was lost and the symbolism of
burial, which had been a very strong communicator
deriving from and reinforcing the theology of death and
disposal, was also significantly diminished. Rowell
summarises thus:
The churches opposed cremation for a number of reasons – the long-standing tradition of burial from inherited Jewish custom onwards, the association of cremation with pagan funeral rites and, for some, belief in the resurrection of the body.191
This perspective only altered for some the effects of
war in mutilating and destroying bodies. The
consequence, as Rowell sees it, was that ‘cremation and
crematoria which were built to provide for this way of
disposing of the dead, developed with little reference
189 The Death Grant was introduced in The National Insurance Act 1946to assist with funeral expenses and was means tested and first became payable in 1949. cf. Hansard 27 June 1960190 Jupp, P.C., From Dust to Ashes: the placement of Burial by Cremation in England 1840-1967, The Congregational Memorial Trust, London, 1990191 Rowell, G., ‘Changing patterns’ p. 27
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to Christian belief and practice.’192
This being the case, it must then raise the question of
how death and disposal relate to the wider context of
life and to Christian hope of life beyond the grave. It
is to this wider context and its development that I now
turn.
A key to unlocking the future – a brief survey of historical theology and pastoral practice
Our contemporary understanding of dying, death and disposal is one that has been powerfully shaped by what the Christian faithhas had to say about death and the hope of life beyond death. The embodiment of those beliefs in funeral liturgy has been and is powerful.193
Yet, as Davies summarises, ‘even in secular contexts
rites are performed to locate the dead firmly in the
past and in memory.’194
Such beliefs have had a complex evolution. However,
there has been a significant shift to a more secular
view of ‘this worldliness’, with both the United Kingdom
and Australia leading the way in a non-religious
influence on the way we deal with death. Accompanying
the rise in humanist and civil, ‘life-centred’ funerals
in these countries has been a noted decrease in emphasis
192Ibid193Ibid p. 17194 Davies, D.J., Death, Ritual and Belief, p. 3
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by the Protestant Christian churches upon the afterlife.
As Davies comments:
Hell is seldom mentioned while heaven has become an optimistic way of speaking about the enduring nature of human relationships. Heaven is more therapeutic than theological.195
This is a salient point as my study shows. Both
celebrant and the bereaved can conspire to allude to
this popular notion of continuity between the deceased
and the bereaved, the dead and the living. As one widow
expressed, ‘I am sure that we will meet again in
Heaven’.196
The Christian celebrant at the funeral of this client’s
late husband offered:
I try and sort of gently suggest that there is a break and to try and get across that nowyou need to talk to God rather than the deceased. Having said that, I don’t necessarily challenge them when they say thatthey continue to have their conversations with the deceased because I recognise that aspart of the ongoing psyche of the living, as it were.197
Surely there is a way for the Christian celebrant to
speak clearly of the Christian resurrection hope without
the need to embrace what is no more than popular
folklore or a distortion of orthodox Christian theology
195 Davies, D., A Brief History of Death, p. 58196 See Anglican Client transcript197 See Anglican Celebrant transcript
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of death and resurrection? In the above case something
of that conversation happened later, as again the
transcripts of my interviews show. Yet how far one goes
in dispelling comforting, if theologically inaccurate
presumptions, is a matter of pastoral sensitivity in the
context of long term care of the bereaved. I shall
return to offer an answer to this specifically in
chapter 6.
Kin and friends of the deceased are increasingly taking
part in the funeral rites and the choice of non-biblical
material replaces or complements Scriptural material.
This is used to express something of the life and
experience of the one who has died. Though religious
leaders still regularly conduct the proceedings, as
Davies comments, ‘it is far from certain that this is
because of the religious doctrines they represent.’198
Instead it is likely they bring a cultural frame of
formality to a moment of emotional complexity. Or it may
also be expressed as a ‘default position’ for the
bereaved, who may have no active religious belief,
simply making no conscious decision to take another
route, based on their familiarity with the historical
monopoly by clergy.
Whatever the reasoning by the bereaved, the clergy are
increasingly happy to engage with people in their 198 Davies, D., A Brief History of Death, p. 58
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requests for more personal items in the funeral liturgy.
Again a plethora of reasons may have brought the clergy
to such a position. Certainly one is to take the
opportunity to express pastoral care and build a
relationship with the bereaved that may be developed at
a later stage. A second reason may be that it introduces
people to something of church tradition where they have
no such previous experience, and it does so in a way
that they find acceptable. The alternative of imposing a
traditional rite would likely hasten the movement away
from religious funerals and the involvement of the
clergy in the funeral rites of non-church attendees.
This would certainly be borne out by the anecdotal
evidence given by the representative of the civil
funeral movement interviewed for this project:
It was the repeated call for something more personal than the Church was offering that got us going. The story of a vicar turning upand only asking what gender the deceased was before taking a funeral, with no other contact with the family, where the deceased wasn’t even mentioned by name left people more angry than comforted and they deserved more. We provide a much more personal service…. One of the Superintendent Registrars, a man from the South West of England, spoke to me about half way into the 18 months that the working party operated andsaid that he had been speaking to a crematorium manager. This manager had said that he reckoned half of the people coming through his crematorium were not getting the services they want, deserve, need. 199
199From the Interview transcript of the Chair of the Institute of Civil Funerals
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This emphasis on the deceased individual, and the
relationship with the living marks a change from
traditional Christian rites that until relatively
recently tended to treat the dead as part of the great
cloud of witnesses in a general sense by referring to ‘our
dearly departed sister’ rather than a named individual
and family member, friend etc. Hence the only
information some clergy requested prior to conducting a
funeral rite was as to the gender of the deceased.
This marked shift in the importance of the individual
has profound consequences. In one sense it could be seen
as secular culture calling the Church back to aspects of
faith they had forgotten or ignored, namely that all
human beings are made in the Image of God200 and therefore
the ends of their lives are worthy of appropriate
marking, being considered as an ‘individual in death as
in life’ as Davies puts it.201 Certainly, again
anecdotally from my study, there appears to have been a
positive reaction to this move:
You know the Churches Group on Funerals, Cemeteries and Crematoria, Peter Jupp and others, I [the Chair of the Institute of Civil Funerals] went and told them about thisand they were brilliant. They said they thought that the thought that had gone into
200 Genesis 1:26-27; cf. Hughes, P.E., The True Image of God: The Origin and Destiny of Man in Christ, Eerdmans, Grand Rapids and Leicester, 1989; Anderson, R.S., On Being Human: Essays in Theological Anthropology, Eerdmans, Grand Rapids, 1982201 Davies, D., A Brief History of Death, p. 60
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the training was very good. And having talkedto people afterwards, I think that had a bit of a knock on effect in the Church of Englandin terms of funeral training. If that is the case then no-one is more pleased than me because that means that better funerals are happening now.202
There is good cause for celebrating this move towards
including traditional elements and customised, personal
elements, yet it would not be hard to imagine a move to
only customised, personal elements being included in a
funeral service. In so changing the focus of the rite to
the person from traditional theological principles, the
need for clergy to officiate could, and in some cases
has now diminished and has opened the way for other
celebrants to conduct purely personal ‘life centred’
funerals. However, this is not a fait accompli as yet, many
do still look to the Church at the time of a death, and
this offers both a challenge and opportunity for the
Church to do just as Hooker suggested in centuries past:
The Church may offer consolation to the bereaved and
commendation to those who have died and give hope and
understanding to those who seek some meaning in the
ultimate mysteries of human life and human death. After
all, Christian theology emphasises that it is God who is
the horizon both of our human life and our human death;
it is God whose eternal life is the Easter gift and
promise to the faithful. This is precisely what
202 From the Interview transcript of the Chair of the Institute of Civil Funerals
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Christian funeral liturgies strive to express, as well
as trying to be pastorally sensitive to the needs of the
bereaved.
This is certainly the challenge I face as a local church
minister engaged within a local community and frequently
asked to officiate at the funerals of both those within
the church community of faith and those without.
As I have discovered in the process of our historical
survey, the funeral is an extremely important event
since the manner in which we dispose of our dead can be
a reflection of our attitude to death and towards the
person who has died. It is the means by which an
appropriate ending is given to the earthly life of the
deceased and gives a context to an appropriate
understanding of a continuity that may be expected
between the living and the dead, focused for the
Christian in the resurrection hope. With a commendation
and/or the committal of the person to God, in sure and
certain hope of the resurrection of the dead, the third
element to be addressed is both a pastoral and missional
one. The funeral ritual will either help or hinder the
grief process, and it is certainly my contention that it
can be a very significant and helpful element of this rite
of passage. But it is more than a therapeutic aid. It is
also an opportunity to aid the bereaved to engage in a
narrative greater than their own, bringing greater hope
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and meaning to their own lives, reflected in, and maybe
gleaned from their understanding of death. It is a
significant place where the source of ontological
security can be introduced or recalled, where true hope
and meaning to life in the face of death and the shared
eternal future of the hoped- for resurrection life may
be affirmed. This is the ministry the Church has offered
in liturgy and pastoral care for centuries, indeed
millennia.
Yet we find ourselves in this historic position because
of factors I am yet to address, significant factors
which are creating a barrier between the ministry of the
Church and the wider community it seeks to serve. It is
to these sociological factors that I now turn.
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