Neighbor’S Viewing Coming Up

[Cousin Ricky]

My next door neighbor from childhood just died. He continued to address me as “neighbor” even after he moved away during the 1980s.

He was also a deacon at my former church, so I can see a lot of Jesus coming up in the memorials. The funeral mass I can handle; I’ve been to plenty of those, and they don’t seem objectionable. But there is also a viewing at the funeral home. The same funeral home where, at my last viewing, the funeral home representative asked each of us to turn to our neighbor and personally reassure them that his fucking imaginary friend is good. Not the church rep, mind you, but the funeral home rep. I don’t want to have to choose, again, between pretending to believe something I don’t, and expressing my true beliefs in a scenario where they could be hurtful to others.

In Mississippi or Arkansas, the Christians assume they are being oppressed by atheists on all side. In the Virgin Islands, they just assume that we don’t exist.

I’m not sure how I’m going to react if he pulls this again. The first time it happened to me (which was in a church, which is a leeetle bit more understandable), I was rescued by having chosen to sit next to my mom, who already knows my beliefs. In the funeral home, I just said nothing. But dammit, I’m tired of being invisible!

[sdelsolray]

Don't go to the funeral home, just go to the funeral mass.

[Jeff]

Or just tell the truth.

"Thor is good... with a hammer"

[Jeff]

Hey! My new call and response:)

 

Me: "Thor is good..."

Crowd: "with a hammer"

[Jeff]

Sorry. Carry on

[Lilith666]

Hahaha Jeff! I had a friend who grew up in the same church as I did, and she was kind of a bad influence. heh. We would be in the back livening up the service by dancing along to the catchy, upbeat church music during the part where the congregation sings. Much more fun than just standing there. My dad plays electric guitar for the worship band, and man did he looked bummed every Sunday during the whole thing, with this inexplicably long face. My friend said he saw us dancing in the back and scowled at her. Because their loving god wouldn't want anyone having fun on his special day that's all about him, of course. So I told my friend that we should start our own church where people are allowed and encouraged to dance during the fun songs.

[Cousin Ricky]

Well, the wake wasn’t too bad. The celebrant was a woman from the church, and she just led with some hymns and prayers. If the funeral home personnel led a mini-service after she finished, I don’t know, because I left while she was saying the Chaplet of Divine Mercy, which has got to be the most boring prayer of all time. (I don’t have to feel guilty about leaving early, because the next of kin did, too!)
 
N.B. If you want to see how bloody graphic a prayer can get, see the USCCB page for the optional opening prayer that the YouTube video omits. I had never heard that opening before tonight’s wake. But you need to see the video for a good impression of just how tedious this prayer is.

[Cousin Ricky]

My gosh, they sure do send deacons out in style! The bishop, six other priests, and several deacons, all packed into that altar space.
 
Well, even though the next of kin didn’t stick around for the Chaplet of Divine Mercy the previous night, they’re still full of faith. The daughter of the deceased waxed eloquent on all the miracles that took place during her father’s final illness, and saw the hand of her god in every little coincidence and inconsequential event. She even saw this illness as a gift from this god, as his way of rekindling their father-daughter relationship as she cared for him. Whatever positive message she can use to cope with what would seem, to outsiders, to be a devastating loss.
 
The funeral mass was saturated with assurances that the deacon is very much alive, with the daughter of the deceased leading the verbal charge. There was even the “reassuring” claim that the deceased is, right now, watching us masturbate over us. Whatever comforts them, but I was creeped out by that idea long before I stopped believing in heaven.
 
Some talk about heaven is to be expected at a mainstream Christian funeral, but still, all the life after death talk seemed over the top in this one. It is not comfortable to feel as if you are the only person in this cavernous building who understands that the deacon is just fucking dead. If there were anyone else in the pews who didn’t believe in an afterlife, we had no polite way of learning of each others’ existence. One does not reveal one’s unbelief at a funeral unless pushed.
 
Do next door neighbors start to look alike? The funeral home director mistook me for his son!
 
There was one series of events that marred the service. In the pew behind me, I heard a fucking cell phone ring. Now, I can forgive the first cell phone. We all have our lapses. But that first cell phone ring should also be the last in the entire room, as the sound of the first should remind the rest of us to check that our own phones are silenced. But this same woman’s goddamned fucking cell phone went off three additional times before the service ended. How can someone who is mature enough to be allowed a cell phone be so irresponsible with its use? If only the Hitch could have been here to explain to her the new 8th commandment.
 
Unsupported reassurances aside, it was a beautiful service.
 
In related news, I just got word that the church’s other deacon is in the ICU. Between presidential candidates and deacons at my former church, God seems to be losing his touch.