It seems to be the season of Quiz Farm quizzes again.  Which LOR character are you?  Which theologian are you?  Seemingly I am Galadriel and Moltmann - I'm happy with these.  So if I ever need an alias, this could make a rather impressive sounding name, don't you think?

Saturday's wedding is still being talked about, it seems, all positive, all we we dared to dream of.  The key word seems to be 'inclusivity' - not compromise to some kind of lowest common denominator mush, but authentic and inclusive.  If you fancy taking a peek at some of the photos, then check out the photographer's blog here .

Today's funeral went well too.  The family were happy with what was offered (and someone told me I have a nice singing voice - wish my old music teachers could hear that one!!  Useful for singing funeral solos, I find) and it felt a 'together' kind of service - as in no great big gaps between the family and the other people who came.  So often funerals see a handful of mourners then several empty rows, which to me seems to say something about fear and isolation.

As my week nears its end - and weekend brings its own challenges of politics over which special services to attend - I have a sense that this week some things have been got right, that we have shown people a glimpse of the God who is Love, Mercy and Grace.  In the midst of all the pain and suffering that news reports announce hourly, it is good to catch a glimpse of God's glory, to trace the rainbow through the rain, to know that there is a hope for all eternity.

Still thinking about funerals!

Is it me, or do undertakers see ministers as a nuisance in the whole proceedings?  Of the three local undertakers, two will phone me up having already booked a crematorium slot and if I'm not free will move on to the next person on their list.  They seem to assume crem. funerals as normative even for church people, and arrange timings without any consulation, so that they can, in my cynical view, get more funerals into a day.

Today's is a fairly typical example - service 11 a.m. interrment 11:30.  It takes around 10 minutes at hearse speed to get from the church to the cemetry, not counting the time to get everyone out of church and the hearse and cars loaded up.  Counting back, that means 15 minutes for the service, 20 if I'm lucky.  But they won't arrive until exactly 11 a.m. and it'll take at least 5 minutes to get them in...

If I get a church and crem funeral, they usually fix the two an hour apart.  This is tight as, at hearse speed, it's around 20 minutes to the nearest crem.  Granted, the committal only takes a few minutes, so arriving a little late is not a big issue, but even so, there is no room for error.

Probably the least bad - the undertakers preferred option - is crem only.  No room for overrun, clear start and end times... easy.

It really annoys and saddens me that the business of death has become so clinical and cynical.  On the one hand, many families want it all over as quickly as possible because it isn't very nice having to face up to the loss.  On the other, for undertakers the bottom line drives the proceedings.  A good funeral is one that gives space to grieve and time to reflect, that isn't on a conveyor belt (beyond the inevitability at the crem) and is an authentic response to bereavement.

Remind me, when I update my will, to include some very precise funeral arrangements, which will not fit into 20 minutes at church with a scramble to the crem as dictiated by some firm of undertakers.

PS I must write out a hundred lines 'It is crematorium not crem' as I recently got into trouble at church for saying crem

Today I have a funeral at D+1, a person whose connection to that church is so vague that no one remembers her.  Her daughter is convinced that her mother went there as a child, and has asked for three hymns (all long, I've missed out a few verses here and there) to be included in the service which, if the undetaker gets their way (they won't) could only be a maximum of 20 minutes.  Fortunately overruns won't be major a problem because this is a burial - in Dibley Municipal Cemetery (not that they lived anywhere near ...) and I am relieved that the early morning mist has just about cleared - a foggy burial would have a rather ethereal or even spooky feel to it, which, given the level of superstition around here would probably be judged highly significant.

What has really struck me about this, as many other funerals I've done in this area, is how little biographical information the family actually knew.  They did not know how many siblings there had been, any stories of how the parents met, nothing about where she had worked or what her interests had been.  This is the more sad, as they anticipate around 40 relatives coming to the funeral - there is a large extended family of cousins etc.

Most of us don't do anything terribly spectacular with our lives, and it is good to celebrate the simple roles of homemakers and child nurturers.  I just find it rather sad that the dreams and aspirations, the perosnal triumphs and joys are lost forever.  Further, it puzzles me - my own, quite large, family is not very close, yet we do know a lot about each other's lives, interests and aspirations.  Deciding what to exclude would be difficult for our family, unlike my common experience of trying to think of creative ways of saying someone spent their life cooking and cleaning.

There are, I guess, two sources of consolation in all this.  Firstly, careful listening to what the family recall and share allows me to reflect the person they choose - and presumably need - to celebrate.  Secondly, even though so much is lost from human recollection, it is known unto God. 

For all the struggles I have in creating eulogies ex nihilo, I do find funerals to be rewarding experiences, a place in which in some small way the love, grace and mercy of God can be extended as people face the inevitability of mortality.

I pray that today the family will find the release they seek and the assurance that God is with them as they move on into their own future.

We have an unwritten 'rule' in my church when it comes to Bible readings - I tell people that if they are unsure how to say someone's name just say "Sausages."  People generally get the drift that what I'm saying is that it doesn't matter if they get the name wrong, and one person did once refer to King Sausages in an OT reading without anyone (apart from me) spotting it.  Sorry, I know, I'm a terrible heretic.

Last Sunday I was asked about the pronunciation of the name of the prophet we were reading - is it 'a-back-ook' (stress on middle syllable) I was asked.  It took me a moment or two to realise they were refrring to Habakkuk.  In a couple of weeks we'll no doubt have Aggie - not someone's elderly aunt, but the prophet Haggai.  I never did Hebrew so my pronunciations of the names are those I've received over the years but I am guessing, that as with Greek 'H's (rough breathings) Hebrew 'H's matter.

I'm sure it isn't really that important, it just continually makes me smile that people who live in a place that begins with a letter H studiously do not sound it.