Today was Flavio's funeral

It was held in his parents' church in San Antonio. Lots of family, many friends, it was really a good service. Not too long, and not too churchy, but of course there were religious quotes, songs, and the prayers and words of the clergy of that church, saying that it was wonderful he was saved and wonderful that he was in the Lord's arms, and wonderful that he had accepted The Lord Jesus Christ into his heart, and bla bla bla.  I saw my husband flinch every time these people we didn't know talked about Flavio's faith and his walk with Christ. Because we knew damn good and well he was an agnostic and wasn't really churchy in the least. At least one other of his close friends mentioned it afterwards, as well. It really sat wrong with them. I felt bad knowing that this made a very jarring note in their hearts & that it was hard to hear all that and not say anything about it. But we all got through it. It was  a hard day. 

 

read this elsewhere in FB this evening:
 

When you aren't a believer, this sort of thing turns funerals for those you love into long, hard to endure nightmares.

All the prayers and little religious things people say -- because they don't know what to say, of course, there is nothing you can say that really helps --

At first they aren't too bad, but after a few minutes they start feeling like well-padded but really sharp jabs in the gut from a boxer. There comes a point they hurt almost more than the reason you are there, and they make you feel like you just can't breathe.

You are there, already stunned from the death, already sad of course -- and it starts feeling like they are taking something away from you, like they are distracting you from missing and loving the one who is gone -- and it starts to feel like they are doing it on purpose.

Not saying they are -- but that's how it feels. I remember this very very well from my parents' funerals.

You know what it really starts to feel like? A hundred people telling you quietly, "You aren't like us and we know it. You shouldn't even be here."

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and yes, I feel this, every single word of it.  if you aren't a believer, attending a traditional religious funeral like this can really start to make you feel bad about yourself, judged and unwelcome.
 

On the other side of the coin,  you have one of the 4 Agreements: "Don't take anything personally,"

This funeral isn't about you.  These people didn't get together today to make you feel bad. We are experiencing a loss and a trauma together, and we are each processing it in our own way.  For  the family today, this was a funeral held in their church, officiated by clergy that they trust and love. They were in a safe place, hearing words from trusted sources that comforted them and helped them cope with a tremendous loss.   

 

Not my thing. Not the thing of many friends who attended, and certainly not really the thing of the deceased.  But, so what?  It's not about you.  And even though it may feel like you are being excluded and judged,  nobody was here today to do that to anyone else. We all loved him in our own ways and we all have to come to terms with a loss, make sense of it, find a way to make peace with it. And if some folks need to tell a story about an all powerful invisible being that our essence returns to at the end of our body's existence, so what? If they need to believe that the dead person felt and believed that too, OK.   And, in the case of Flavio, he was always careful to say he was agnostic. He didn't know. None of us do.  But he went to family gatherings in their church, respectfully attended services and ceremonies that were important to his loved ones, and in the end, that's what we are left with. We love our friends and families enough to understand not to take it personally, not to make it about us, to gently live and let live. 

 

Now, if someone  directly proselytizes me or judges me out loud to my face in the name of their religion, that's another thing.   There's a way that "I'll pray for you," can sound when it's being offered as a condemnation rather than a blessing.  That wasn't what today was about. That's not what most people of faith are doing when they gather to share tenets of their faith, that sees them through loss and trauma and helps them cope.  Let them be, and take kind words and blessings in the spirit in which they are offered, whether you share the belief or not. 

 

When my father died, I was too raw to do this; I spoke out in my grief harshly at the grave side. I don't regret what I said. I shared my belief that when a person dies, they live on in the memories of everyone who knew them & shares those memories. That's all the immortality we get.  I still believe that. But I think or at least hope that I'm at a point where I'm not going to loudly condemn & harshly contradict a comforting fable if it's helpful to others.  So I am glad I got today to offer some grace and hopefully peace, rather than conflict.