CELEBRANT
PRESENTATION
Last April an aged aunt of mine
died, and I attended her funeral. This particular
lady was a caring and loveable lady, and it was no
surprise that there were many people at her
funeral. I wasn’t a celebrant then, and as far as I
know, her friends and family had no idea that I was
a humanist, but they asked me to deliver a eulogy
on her behalf, and I was happy to do so.
It was a Christian funeral, and the vicar seemed a
nice chap as far as I could tell. He did his bit, I
did mine, and another mourner who wanted to read
some poetry did her bit . Then it got back to the
vicar who launched into a speech about her finally
“honouring her appointment with God – the
appointment that we all share”, and telling us all
that he felt sure that after listening to what had
been said – my Aunty Flo would be assured of her
place in heaven alongside Jesus.
This kind of thing always perplexes me. As far as I
knew, my aunt was not religious at all, and never
had been throughout her life. But, although I
started to feel uncomfortable, I also felt that as
a humanist he had a right to his opinion.
He then asked us all to stand and recite the Lord’s
Prayer, and we all stood as instructed – as a mark
of respect to the dear departed. But reciting the
Lord’s Prayer was one step too far for me. Love my
aunt as I did, I could not recite words that had no
meaning for me, and possibly not to her either, so
I kept my mouth shut, although I felt a slight
sense of embarrassment whilst those nearby me who I
could hear, recited the words that I had been
trained all my life to recite ... well ... ever
since I was a small child at school assembly. We
said our farewells at the end. The vicar thanked me
for my part in the ceremony, whilst I just felt
rather awkward, and rather resented his assumption
that everyone in the congregation was a Christian.
It was quite likely that there were very few
Christians there. For all I knew – or for all he
knew for that matter - there might have been
Moslems, Hindus, Jews or Zoroastrians ... or other
humanists.
I decided then and there that I wanted to be a
Humanist celebrant, and soon after made an
application to the British Humanist Association for
celebrant training.
But my aunt’s funeral wasn’t the only thing that
helped me decide. By coincidence, I had been to a
Humanist funeral a couple of months before when my
next door neighbour – and a dear friend – died. He
had asked for a Humanist funeral in his will. It
was a great surprise to me. I had known him for 18
years, and in all that time had no idea that he was
another humanist!
His ceremony was a huge affair. There must have
been 250 people there, and the Humanist Celebrant
led the coffin and Barry’s immediate family down
the crowded chapel aisle with dignity. He spoke
about the chap we all knew; about his likes, his
loves, his foibles and all the fascinating
strengths and weaknesses that people have that make
them lovable. The celebrant had Barry to a tee.
This was the person I knew. However, what really
marked this funeral as different, was that here
there was no assumption that the congregation was
all humanist ... or anything. There were no public
prayers, time was set aside in the ceremony for
those who were religious, to offer a silent prayer
in his memory. It was beautiful, and very moving,
and no cause for embarrassment or bad feeling. All
beliefs had been respected, and this was, I feel
sure, what Barry would have wanted.
So, I wanted to become a celebrant for Barry, for
my Aunt Flo, and for myself. But also because so
few people seem to even be aware that you can have
a non-religious funeral at all. I didn’t know until
after I’d joined the BHA in November 2005. In fact,
although I’d been an atheist since I was a
teenager, I didn’t even know about the
BHA
until November 2005!!
After I made my application I had one of those
dreadful telephone interviews before being accepted
for training and this began in a London hotel in
October, much of which involved clarifying just
what we mean by humanism. Unlike formal religions,
which already have a ready-made philosophy which is
promulgated from the centre, Humanism tends to be a
set of personal moral codes. The bottom line was
that Humanism is not really a “belief” system at
all, because most humanists regard belief as being
a faith; the Humanist viewpoint is that faith is
always blind, because it doesn’t need to involve
the real world – or even reason. All you need is
faith. But it is more than just atheism or
agnosticism. Humanism is a whole philosophy of its
own. (To find out more have a look at the BHA
website for definitions and descriptions). It is
all about conducting our life in a social and
responsible way, which allows people the freedom to
express themselves in any way they choose,
so
long as they respect the rights of
others to do the same.
It means that we
aim to deal with the world as it really is, that we
don’t pretend to know all the answers, and
recognise that we will make mistakes, but when we
do, we try to learn from them. We want to make the
world a better place not by worshipping some
supernatural being, but through learning how things
really are through concern and compassion for our
fellow humans. Out of respect for all life,
enjoying the sheer amazing beauty and wonder of the
universe we find ourselves in, and making the very
best of our lives, because this is our one chance
to be here, so we had better make the best of it!