I drove to Thornhill for a ten thirty funeral this morning, meeting with a family that had driven over from North Devon with grandfather's ashes to scatter in a garden there, following a funeral service in the recently refurbished Briwnant Chapel. It's acquired upholstered pews after a quarter of a century with chairs. Now there's a catafalque with curtains set diagonally in the left hand corner and the usual lectern on the right side, video screen up behind it with an exit door in the right corner. And no altar.
This is already a commonly used layout, adaptable for ceremonies of any religion or none. There's a candle and a crucifix if you need one, though you have to make up your mind beforehand about where you want to place it in relation to the coffin and the congregation. On this occasion the curtains were left closed as the catafalque was redundant. There was a small covered trolley, used for a child's coffin, of a suitable size to take cross, candle and the decorated cylindrical disposable 'scattering tube' as it was described containing the ashes of the deceased. A new experience for me in this context.
Thankfully there was no rain and the ground had dried out when we walked outdoors at the end of the service for the scattering, straight on to the ground beneath some trees, with poor grass cover. I had envisaged a flower bed or some shrubbery rather than a leafy glade. Instinctively I positioned myself in the circle where the slight breeze wouldn't bring the fallout dust in my direction. After scattering the ashes formed a circular cream coloured pool, in stark contrast to down trodden red soil and grass beneath our feet.
I found this a little incongruous, and wondered how long the stain of this human bone meal deposit would be so starkly visible to passers by. Would a sprinkling of earth be made to cover it or not? Would a sprinkling of water or rain make a difference? I wondered. I must ask when I'm back here again tomorrow for another funeral. The Church's insistence on burying cremated remains suddenly acquired a different perspective for me, even if it does go against the tide of common culture and practice.
When I got home, I found that yesterday's cooked crab apple pulp had yielded a couple of pints of juice. With added sugar this made five standard and two small sized jars of jelly, although it was very runny. It needs more reducing, Clare says. Right now it would make an exquisite sweetish coulis, to use with roast meats, paté, or even a nut-roast, I suspect, as well as with ice cream or thick yoghourt.
I cooked lunch alongside finishing off the jelly, as Clare and Kath had gone for a swim, but I ran out of time, as I had to St John's for a very special Mother's Union tea party. Ruth and John Honey are celebrating sixty years of marriage this week, and they invited MU members from other branches and diocesan MU officials. There were about forty people there, including several husbands, and I was just a few minutes late. I'd agreed to attend and lead special prayers for the occasion, but the MU president had already started with a few prayers by the time I'd arrived. Not that it mattered. They were in good hands already, and they didn't give me a hard time when I explained about the crab apple jelly bless them!
The MU's own prayer booklet is very nice piece of work, though I haven't had occasion to study it or use it properly before, but I asked for a copy to refer to, and adapted some of its devotions to fit in with the overall anniversary and family life themes, as I led them in a quiet reflective act of worship, using a chorus with them that some would have known anyway. They sang, albeit a little shyly. It's not something they're often asked to do unaccompanied, I suspect. It flowed naturally, and I could tell from appreciative faces afterwards that I'd struck the right note. I really enjoyed speaking to God and the occasion.
A traditional High Tea with cake and sandwiches followed, served by two of Ruth and John's three daughters, ending with cup cakes topped with the number '60' in sugar icing letters to take home. Emma is now on maternity leave so she didn't attend, nor did Frances, whose ministry in the parish starts tomorrow. I wonder if anyone thought to invite her. It would have given her a positive preview of a significant element of parish life and fellowship. I think they both would have enjoyed this.
When I got home, I found that yesterday's cooked crab apple pulp had yielded a couple of pints of juice. With added sugar this made five standard and two small sized jars of jelly, although it was very runny. It needs more reducing, Clare says. Right now it would make an exquisite sweetish coulis, to use with roast meats, paté, or even a nut-roast, I suspect, as well as with ice cream or thick yoghourt.
I cooked lunch alongside finishing off the jelly, as Clare and Kath had gone for a swim, but I ran out of time, as I had to St John's for a very special Mother's Union tea party. Ruth and John Honey are celebrating sixty years of marriage this week, and they invited MU members from other branches and diocesan MU officials. There were about forty people there, including several husbands, and I was just a few minutes late. I'd agreed to attend and lead special prayers for the occasion, but the MU president had already started with a few prayers by the time I'd arrived. Not that it mattered. They were in good hands already, and they didn't give me a hard time when I explained about the crab apple jelly bless them!
The MU's own prayer booklet is very nice piece of work, though I haven't had occasion to study it or use it properly before, but I asked for a copy to refer to, and adapted some of its devotions to fit in with the overall anniversary and family life themes, as I led them in a quiet reflective act of worship, using a chorus with them that some would have known anyway. They sang, albeit a little shyly. It's not something they're often asked to do unaccompanied, I suspect. It flowed naturally, and I could tell from appreciative faces afterwards that I'd struck the right note. I really enjoyed speaking to God and the occasion.
A traditional High Tea with cake and sandwiches followed, served by two of Ruth and John's three daughters, ending with cup cakes topped with the number '60' in sugar icing letters to take home. Emma is now on maternity leave so she didn't attend, nor did Frances, whose ministry in the parish starts tomorrow. I wonder if anyone thought to invite her. It would have given her a positive preview of a significant element of parish life and fellowship. I think they both would have enjoyed this.
No comments:
Post a Comment