THE modern world progressively destroys all vestige of the sacred and turns all ceremonies and rites into vulgar exercises in self-love. The funeral is no exception to this rule. In an egocentric, nihilistic culture, the traditional funeral is too sad, too serious and too impersonal. It’s too much of a downer. That’s why instead of praying for the dead and contemplating the hereafter, survivors now commonly celebrate the life of the deceased with upbeat eulogies, mementoes, biographies, songs, and photos. Chad Bird, in his excellent essay “The Tragic Death of the Funeral,” aptly calls it “necronarcissism.”

Surrounded as it is with so much sincere sentiment and seeming good will, the “Celebration of Life” seems innocuous. But, as Bird writes, this kind of Funeral Lite is a symptom of profound social decay:

What makes community life viable, in groups as small as a family or large as a country, is the will of individuals to makes [sic] sacrifices for others, to consider more than their own needs and wants, and to act accordingly. The more robust this other-focused approach to life is, the healthier the community will be. For that reason, there is no greater threat to the cohesion and perpetuation of a society than narcissism. he narcissist operates not according to an objective set of values or beliefs, nor are the needs of others an impetus for his actions, but his whole world is centered in the navel at which he gazes. The be-all and end-all reason for his existence is the man in the mirror. Therefore, the question he poses, whenever any decision must be made, is quite simply this: “What’s in it for me?”

Now that it’s becoming increasingly popular to plan my own end-of-life service in a way that ensures that I will be the center of attention, that I will be talked about, that it will be “by far the proudest moment of my life,” egocentrism extends beyond this life into a kind of necronarcissism. We may not be as lucky as Tom [Sawyer], eavesdropping on our own eulogy, and gorging our pride thereby, but we’ll at least plan our own going-away party to guarantee that the answer to “What’s in it for me?” meets our qualifications.

There is no dignity to death without God. And no amount of happy talk can mask that fact and the sheer nothingness of life without God.

— Comments —

John G. writes:

Sorry to hear that you have fallen behind on posting comments, but please accept my thanks for keeping your site moderated. Intelligent discussions are possible only in a controlled environment, such as The Thinking Housewife. Anarchy destroys all chance of intelligent thought.

I read an article on this topic a few months back, but I can’t remember where I saw it. Maybe it was on your site? The topic was about the essential role that conversation can play in arriving at the truth, but only if the conversation is directed and controlled. It must have a telos. Otherwise it is just talking for the sake of killing time. But if we desire to arrive at some kind of resolution to the questions of the purpose of life, then our conversation must be directed towards that end, and it must be controlled by someone with the authority to monitor the contributions and keep them focused on the purpose, otherwise it quickly degenerates into random noise.

Regarding funerals: I have spent a lot of time over the past few years thinking about grief, and why we seem to have lost the ability to grieve. It struck me that this was an essential attribute of being human, and the fact that we are no longer capable of grieving seems to have very significant implications in the on-going degeneration of the human race.

On a humorous note, this video might indicate the future that we can anticipate for funerals, since most of our trends these days seem to originate in Asia and then migrate to America:

On a more serious note, St. Francis de Sales says in his work, Treatise on the Love of God, that there are three kinds of love.

1. First is “complaisance” in which the two people take pleasure in each other. We enjoy each other. We take joy from our relationship.Which could be like a couple in a romantic relationship, but it could also be a parent and child. And ultimately, of course, all such relationships have to mirror our relationship with God.

2. The next and higher form of love is “compassion.” Instead of sharing pleasure, now we share the sorrow of the one we love. Like a mother with a young child when he has just fallen and hurt himself. Or a married couple when one suffers a tragic accident or illness. It would be impossible to feel compassion for God, except for the fact that He chose to become man and to suffer on the Cross. Only if — together with the Blessed Virgin who did this pre-eminently — we suffer in union with Him in His passion, can our love of God move from the first stage to the second stage.

In many marriages today, the members of the couple believe that their relationship is for “complaisance,” they are to take pleasure from their relationship with each other, but they cannot understand the concept of “compassion,” to suffer in union with the one that you love. And so when one party is arrested, is crippled in an auto accident, becomes depressed or an alcoholic, even something as simple as losing their job and therefore their money, the other party is no longer receiving any pleasure, and so the relationship seems pointless to them, since its purpose is no longer being fulfilled.

In addition to the word “compassion” — to suffer together — St. Francis de Sales used several similar words to describe this kind of love such as “commiseration” and “condolence.” It struck me that these words are associated with funerals. We offer the grieving relics our condolence or our commiserations. When we do this we tell them that we are suffering together with them. We are sharing their misery and their sorrow. “Commiseration” has the same root as “misere mei,” and “condolence” has the same root as “Our Lady of the Seven Dolors.”

In the past, many if not most were able to share the sorrows of others, since sorrow was such a natural and inevitable part of life, although perhaps not every single person was capable of feeling and acting out this kind of love. But Aldous Huxley in “Brave New World” described our own situation where sorrow is viewed as a mental illness to be cured by taking pills. In this environment, how can one grieve at a funeral, when the concept of “condolence” is unknown, and even the conciliar Catholic Church is telling people to rejoice at funerals?

The third level of love, by the way, which is not relevant to the discussion of funerals, is “benevolence,” by which he means that we do the will of the one we love, especially the inferior does the will of the superior in obedience.

Thank you again for all your continued efforts which probably are doing more good than you are able to realize.

 Laura writes:

Thank you for your kind words.

Did you notice the comment after the article about the Taiwanese marching band? It said, “You can now be aroused and bereaved at the same time.” : – )

The lack of solemnity, the sentimental tunes and the narcissism at the Vatican II funeral mass isn’t as bad as that, but it’s still atrocious. The debased liturgy robs people of true grief and the consolations that are to be had in death.

John wrote:

In the past, many if not most were able to share the sorrows of others, since sorrow was such a natural and inevitable part of life, although perhaps not every single person was capable of feeling and acting out this kind of love. But Aldous Huxley in “Brave New World” described our own situation where sorrow is viewed as a mental illness to be cured by taking pills. In this environment, how can one grieve at a funeral, when the concept of “condolence” is unknown, and even the conciliar Catholic Church is telling people to rejoice at funerals?

Well said.

St. Francis de Sales also spoke of two kinds of sadness. There is sadness according to this world and sadness according to God. The former is a type of despair and the latter, though it is often unpleasant, is not.

The saint gave a beautiful example of the latter when he wrote to a friend, Madame de Chantal, about the death of his own mother:

I have to tell you that I had the courage to give her the last benediction, to close her eyes and mouth, and to give her the kiss of peace, at the moment of her departure; after which my heart filled, and I wept over this mother more than I had ever done since I entered the Church; but it was without spiritual bitterness, thanks be to God! Behold what passed.

Behold what passed.

A reader writes:

I went to a close family member’s “service” this summer. The service was a celebration type, and his poor kid brother was perhaps the most enthusiastic “celebrant.” Death has visited many in his family over the past two years, and they all were cremated. Even my cafe Catholic grandfather and my Christian grandmother were cremated recently. Why are so many people cremated now? Is it due to costs, as I come from a low working-class Midwestern family?

I didn’t see any of the other services, but his was enough. The kid brother’s eulogy was insane. It was a scripted performance of foul-mouthed sexual jokes, saturated by a religious devotion to pop music from the 60s through the 90s as evidenced by the eulogy and the several photo-plastered easels around the room. My children, the oldest being nine, have NEVER heard some of the words they listened to that night. “Daddy, what does ‘fugging’ mean?” Although they’ve heard the word “vagina,” they’ve never heard it used to make a joke about a “dried up” elderly woman. Remember, this was scripted! Although they were a family of secularists, knowing them personally over the years, they all believed in some kind of heaven where their loved ones go to play guitar and shoot pool together. Presumably, Hitler is not there, for whatever reason. At one point during the kid brother’s eulogy, lightning struck and the power flickered, and a knowing glance was well received by many in the room. The cremation, the focus on pop culture, the revelry, the ancestral worship, all seemed so… pagan. One notable, perhaps fitting event, was when my nine-year-old son audibly farted during someone’s eulogy- a tiny peep from his direction could be heard in the room by all, “excuse me.” Everyone laughed, including me; I thought to myself, “When in Rome!”

At the service, I got caught up on recent family news. The family service for the death prior to his was for a queer teenaged boy, and they all decided to wear pink to his service. I guess (I hardly knew him) he really struggled with his “identity issues,” even with total acceptance from all quarters. Yet they brought this kid’s life’s defining struggle into his service, and celebrated it! Is there any conceivable way that bringing a person’s life-defining struggle, a struggle that most likely contributed to his young, untimely death (psych meds and a sudden “waking up dead” were involved), helps the deceased, society, or his family in any way? No, it becomes obvious that the entire exercise was to celebrate themselves, their “tolerance,” and their progressiveness. Insane.

Laura writes:

The popularity of cremation has been discussed here before. It is part of the general denial of death. A buried body is all too real and besides people see no point in praying by the grave. An urn or ashes scattered in the mountains seem much less offensive. Cost is part of it, but a pagan mentality is the real cause.

As for the scripted eulogy you mention, a major drawback of these services is that people who have absolutely no oratorical skills have the sudden thrill or terror of commanding an audience. There’s nothing wrong with eulogies per se, but there is a proper place for them. They should take place after the funeral.

W.G. Dupree writes:

Necronarcissism.  This seems to be a very succinct description of the designer funerals to which we have become accustomed to seeing in the media, as well as spilling over into the funerals of otherwise “common” people.

This necronarcissism goes well beyond the funeral.  Go to any cemetery, and, provided that the cemetery does not have rules against it, you will find graves decorated with teddy bears, Christmas lights, and a myriad of otherwise tacky items for a final resting place of those who have departed this temporal life.

My theory in regard to the onset of designer funerals and grave décor is this.  Survivors of these people have no hope of life beyond this life.  The prospect of death scares them, and they do not want to face the reality that they will die, and they are not prepared spiritually.  Therefore, they attempt to make the death of a loved one meaningful to them and to validate their own lack of faith.  Some are just shallow enough to use the occasion of a funeral to garner attention to themselves, and I have witnessed this personally in my life.  However, I believe this is an indication of their spiritual standing, as harsh as this may sound.

Wanda Sheratt writes from Ottawa:

As a contrast to the dreary jollity at modern funerals, I thought you might find this article interesting.

It describes the preparations being made for the reburial for King Richard III, whose body was found beneath a parking lot in Leicester.  I was greatly interested in the story of the discovery of the king’s body, which had been hurriedly buried beneath the floor of a church which was later destroyed by the Tudors.  But when talk turned to the appropriate way to rebury him, my heart sank.  Leaving such a task to the modern barbarians in charge of the Church of England promised a squalid disaster.  I figured it would be the CoE’s version of the opening ceremonies of the London Olympics, with bizarre set pieces to “celebrate” present-day inclusive England, and nothing that a medieval Catholic monarch would even recognize as properly Christian.

This story has given me hope, however – the matter seems to be in competent hands, and the scholar in charge has carefully researched the funeral rituals of pre-Tudor England and come up with some very interesting facts.  The prayers used are so much more weighty and serious than what we have today:

“Let us pray. Omnipotent and eternal God, creator and redeemer of souls, who through the prophecy of Ezechiel are worthy to bind together truly dry bones with sinews, to cover them with skin and flesh, and to put into them the breath of life, we suppliants pray to you for the soul of our dear [INSERT NAME] whose bones we now place in the grave.”

And these people took their ceremonies seriously:  A reburial in a great household could take place over two days, with masses, prayers, processions, paid mourners, incense, choirs, and a feast for more than 1,000 guests. The bones would have been sprinkled in holy water before reinterment.

I don’t expect the same treatment a prince would get, but I kept thinking, “Why can’t we have something like this today?”  For all the talk of “celebration”, there seems to be a genuine fear of real emotion in modern funerals, as if we’re afraid to see someone cry and so we hide everything that could trigger an outburst.  What a burden this puts on the bereaved!  When everyone is “celebrating”, what’s wrong with you that you’re not clapping your hands and smiling with the rest?

Hurricane Betsy writes:

This topic is of much interest to me, and I share the viewpoints expressed here.  I can’t describe the revulsion I feel when I walk into the funeral parlor or church and…there’s no coffin, no body.  So I look around and see a stupid little container on a table at the front, with a photo of the deceased beside it.

Then there’s a slide show and several speeches!  I’ve no idea how many of these performances I’ve attended over the past 15 or so years. I went to one memorial service with 8 speeches.  I couldn’t make this up…

I don’t know if there’s anything particularly “pagan” about burning the body, but it’s just repulsive, that’s all.  My dad burned dead cows on the farm (he didn’t have the machinery to dig a big hole) and that’s my memory of “cremation”.

My brothers and sisters all want to be cremated – what the hell am I going to do?  I don’t particularly like them, for what that is worth, and they would just as soon ignore my wishes for burial.

Laura writes:

 Yes, cremation was — and is — a pagan practice. Cremation was rejected by Christians because of their belief in bodily resurrection. Here is excellent commentary on cremation and a description of its history at Tradition in Action.

 Dec. 11, 2013

Jan Hus writes:

The church is against cremation? Certainly is news to me.

Laura writes:

Paul VI’s decision to revoke the canon forbidding cremation is yet another sign of his apostasy and the apostasy of the Vatican II Church.

Pan Dora writes:

Hurricane Betsy,

I was saddened to read your description of a “modern” funeral involving cremation. Both my great-grandparents were cremated in the 1960’s. In neither case were mourners greeted with an urn and a couple of photographs on a table. They were laid out for a viewing just as if they were going to be buried. Cremation did not occur until after services and memorials were completed.

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