A Difficult Funeral

I’m just back from a tragic funeral. Over the space of fifteen ministering years, I’ve developed ways of handling the ‘average’ funeral. I have a standard list of questions to elicit the key aspects of the deceased’s life. I ask the relatives about his/her birth and upbringing, working life, marriage and family (if appropriate), hobbies and interests, and their personality and character. I turn that into the first half of the eulogy, and then add some words of Christian hope – often influenced by Moltmann‘s ‘The Crucified God‘.

But that wasn’t possible with today’s. A forty-two-year-old alcoholic woman, who left a mother, two sisters, an ex-husband and three children. My usual ‘formula’ went out of the window. My task today was to navigate the tragic life we mourned, and the pain caused to her loved ones by her addiction.

This is what I came up with, afer a lot of agonising. Even as I delivered it, I improvised, so this is not exactly as spoken. I have also omitted identifying details.

…………

Today, like most funerals I take, I did not know the
deceased. The right words can be tricky in those circumstances. Perhaps they
are even more difficult today, because we all know why [name]’s body lies in
this coffin after only forty-two years of life.

You knew [name] – as a daughter, sister, wife, mother, or
perhaps in some other way. You have walked through ‘the darkest valley’[1],
because of her addiction and its consequences. Today, I can only imagine the
mixture of feelings you have: grief, relief, anger and much more.

As I understand it, there were certain events in [name]’s
life that she found particularly traumatic. Some people face pain. Others run
from it, or try to mask it with something else. And that’s often where
addictions start. Excess eating, credit card debt and substance abuse – all can
be addictions to cover pain. My interpretation of what I’ve learned about [name]’s life is that maybe that’s what she did – she masked her pain with an
addiction.

In saying this, it is not my purpose to excuse her actions.
We are all responsible for our decisions. We are all answerable to God for
them. [Name]’s addiction was destructive. It destroyed her life. It caused pain
to all of you.

But what I do believe also is that Jesus has compassion for
the wounded, the broken and the hurting. Your request that the organist play ‘Amazing
Grace’ as we entered the chapel was so appropriate:

‘Amazing grace, how sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like
me.’[2]

Jesus came to bring good news to the poor, the imprisoned,
the blind and the oppressed[3].
Addicted people are often all these things – their habits make them poor;
substances imprison them; their minds are blinded and their addictions oppress
them. Jesus would have offered [name] mercy and compassion. For this reason we
shall today commend her to the ‘perfect mercy and wisdom’[4]
of a loving God. We shall ‘commit her body to be cremated … trusting in the
infinite mercy of God’[5].
I wonder whether in her stupor, [name] heard the compassionate voice of Jesus.

And if Jesus would have offered mercy and compassion to [name], he offers the same to everyone here. You have been wounded and broken by
what [name] did to herself. Jesus can feel your pain and injustice. You can
release any anger to him, and he can help you forgive her. He can help you
rebuild your lives. Jesus suffered on the Cross to bring us the love of God.
Today, I pray that his suffering will touch yours, that you might feel God’s
love in your hearts.

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