• Trolleys are for Supermarkets

    I had a lovely morning today conducting a funeral service. Oh, I know lots of people don’t get that this can be satisfying but to me I can’t really think of a more lovely way of spending a morning than committing someone who has died at a great age into the love of God. The fact that the person who had died had in large part lived to make the world more beautiful only made it more lovely.

    I was struck by a brief conversation with the undertaker before the service went in. This wasn’t a busy funeral – the person who had died had outlived most of those who might once have come to celebrate her life. As the coffin was being taken out of the hearse, I was surprised to see three members of the undertaker’s staff join him in lifting the coffin onto their shoulders.

    “Oh, you don’t use a trolley?” I asked in surprise.

    The answer that I got was wonderful –

    “No, Mr Holdsworth, trolleys are for supermarkets, we always carry the coffin in”.

    I cannot tell you how pleased I was to hear this.

    So many funerals seem to involve a squeaky and undignified trolley. I even have to insist sometimes that the coffin is lifted onto proper tressels during the funeral itself. There’s many a person in the funeral business who would leave a coffin on the trolley throughout.

    Am I alone in thinking that there’s not much dignity in a coffin on wheels?

    I know there will be exceptions where a trolley is necessary and I guess that, in an industry that has seen costs soaring, it is going to cost more if one has to pay the pallbearers but I do prefer a coffin to be carried into church rather than pushed.

    At some crematoria where I’ve officiated the presumption is so much in favour of wheels that a kind of roll-on, roll-off trolley has become an integral part of the proceedings.

    We don’t talk that much about death, though there are some valiant attempts to get us to do so. There’s the death café movement that gathers people to talk about death and I seem to remember an initiative in the Church of England called Grave Talk which was an attempt to build up a conversation.

    I know that any undertakers will arrange for pallbearers to carry a coffin in properly if you ask them. That’s what undertakers do – they undertake to make the arrangements for you. I’m someone who mourns the transformation of undertakers into “funeral directors” – the very term seems to imply that the business knows better than either the celebrant who has probably got a bit of experience on how to do things properly, the relatives (who may, if they are feeling particular grief may well feel better for being involved in the funeral planning and service) and indeed the wishes of the person who has died if they did  the sensible thing and left instructions.

    The joy today was finding a company which just don’t normally use a trolley as policy. It is a small thing but an important one.

    Funeral trolleys always remind me of the wobbly nave altar in St Ninian’s Cathedral in Perth, which itself always looked as though it had been purloined from a hospital porter.

    Now where did undertakers’ trolleys come from? And why do people put up with them?

    They are hideous. Always hideous.

    No. No. Away ye trolley-bearers.

    And congratulations to Sim and Son for their trolley-free policy.

    (I’m happy to link to any other undertakers in the West of Scotland who never use a trolley)

10 responses to “Triduum #6 The Vigil”

  1. Rosemary Hannah Avatar
    Rosemary Hannah

    Oh suppose the sleep over! The bible readings to read – the stories to tell! The living re-tellings it would invite.

    And suppose the exhaustion on Easter Day… and Monday

    1. kelvin Avatar

      Thanks Rosemary.

      BTW, after you had finished polishing the eagle this morning and had gone, I discovered that we have a pelican.

  2. Beth Avatar

    The pelican has not been polished, however, Rosemary, none of us being quite that tall.

    I do suspect I would like the all night vigil if we ever did it.

  3. Rosemary Hannah Avatar
    Rosemary Hannah

    Where is the pelican??!! Up somewhere?? Oh, I would love to polish a pelican.

    I’d love to sit up half the night reading aloud and telling stories – but I fear the exhaustion. But I would never, ever resist if invited. As long I was invited and allowed to read and tell stories. It could be so fabulous. Unique. Deep. Newsworthy. (and those are all the lures I have to throw.)

    You do realise my first words are now liable to be not ‘alithos anesti’ but ‘where is the blessed pelican?’

    1. kelvin Avatar

      I think that those of us who know where the Pelican is must keep our counsel and give Rosemary the pleasure of Pelican Spotting on Easter Day.

      What treat could be more lovely?

  4. Rosemary Hannah Avatar
    Rosemary Hannah

    Still pelican searching – it is tough on those N rather than S – if you see me with my monocular don’t laugh – oh. all right then, go on, do laugh!

  5. ryan Avatar
    ryan

    Ooh, is it a Pelican in its Piety, which I gather was a popular Christ-symbol in medieval europe and also amongst the Larry Graysons?

    1. kelvin Avatar

      Not only is she a Pelican in her Piety but I actually found that we have two.

      I also found that it’s possible to Pelicans in their Piety right under Rosemary’s nose and she won’t necessarily see them.

      Someone suggested to me a while ago that we should have an inventory of the flaura and fauna represented in the iconography of St Mary’s. I suspect such a task would be a revelation. There’s a badger, for example, which few see but me.

  6. Rosemary Hannah Avatar
    Rosemary Hannah

    I am chronically unobservant – I notoriously fail to see things right under my nose. Last week I failed to see the pepper grater. It was upright on a table of less than two foot diameter. There was a table lamp, a plate and the pepper grater. I could not see it. It is sad on one whose speciality is religious architecture, isn’t it? But Low Sunday shall be find the pelican day.

  7. Beth Avatar

    Rosemary, I’d have nudged you in the right direction yesterday morning if I hadn’t rudely run off just as our conversation got to pelicans. (The pleasure of the hunt is all well and good, but it can get to the point of being an exercise in frustration.)

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