Me And The Vicar

I had a call from Paul at Newell's on Friday.

'Hi Zinnia, I've got a weird one and I'm wondering whether you could help me.'

'Tell me about it and I'll see what I can do.'

'Well, the chap who's died, he wasn't religious at all. But his wife is. Half the family are, and the other half aren't. They are wondering whether you could do a service with a vicar, sort of half and half, to reflect all their views.'

'I don't see why not. Do you know who the vicar is?'

'No, it's the family's vicar, and they're outside our area, but we were recommended to them by another client so we're doing it anyway. I've got his name but no other contact details.'

'I'd better have a chat with him to make sure he's up for it before you go back to the family. If you can give me his name, I'll try to track him down.'

'OK. It's Gordon Richards. And the deceased is Adrian Campbell from Henside, his wife is Barbara Campbell.'

A quick internet trawl through the free information available from Crockford's Clerical Directory and a Google search on the results provided me with a telephone number and email address for Rev Richards. I dialled before I could get nervous. A man answered on the second ring.

'Hello, is that Reverend Richards?'

'Technically, yes.' His voice was warm and amused. 'But please call me Gordon. What can I do for you?'

'I'm Zinnia Cyclamen, I'm a humanist funeral celebrant and I got your name from Paul at Newell's. I understand you know the Campbell family in Henside.'

'Ah, you're the opposition.' He chuckled. 'I'm glad you rang, I was wondering how to get hold of someone. Are you up for doing a double-act?'

I liked this friendly, humorous man already, but I felt as if I needed to know more before I committed myself. 'In theory, yes, but I think it would be useful if we could chat about it a bit more before we make a firm decision about working together.'

'Sensible. Do you want to start, or shall I?'

'I'll start. Have you ever been to a humanist funeral ceremony?'

'No, I haven't. What's it like?'

'Very focused on the person who's died, it's a celebration of their life. It's personal, tailored to the needs of the family and close friends as far as possible. Anything goes as long as it's meaningful in that context, and reasonably dignified. It can be short or long, simple or complex. Sometimes family members or friends do part of the service: maybe read something, prose or poetry, or give part or all of the tribute. Other times I do it all. Music is usually pre-recorded, and can be anything from classical to rave, jazz, pop, you name it. And if the family thinks it's a good idea – and most do – we have a few moments of silence in the middle of the ceremony, where people with religious faith can say their prayers to themselves if they want to, and the rest of us can just think our thoughts or remember the person who has died in their own way.'

'I see. So you make a new ceremony each time?'

'Yes, essentially. There are some forms of wording I tend to reuse, for the welcome and introduction, the committal and the closing, simply because they work so well that there's no point trying to rewrite them each time. I always review them, though, to check that they still work in the current context, and revise them if necessary. And the rest is created from scratch each time.'

'That must take you ages.'

'Not really, I'm a fairly fluent writer and a fast typist. When I visit the family, I take notes straight into a laptop, so when I get back to my office, it's mostly a case of editing. It usually takes an hour or two to create a script. Although some of my colleagues say it takes them longer.'

'It would take me longer, I'm a two-finger typist and a slow writer. I'm better at speaking off the cuff. So, have you been to an Anglican funeral?'

'Yes, I've been to several.'

'What did you think?'

'I was hoping you weren't going to ask me that. I didn't think much of most of them, to be honest. Where the vicar didn't know the person who'd died, they didn't seem to make much effort to get to know them, to include them. It was all about God, and I didn't feel as if there was space for me there.'

'Thank you for being so honest,' he said. 'It concerns me that the funerals we conduct can be a bit formulaic. There is an argument that the repetition of tradition brings comfort in itself, but I'm not always sure that's enough. I'd be interested to work with you because I think I might learn something.'

'I'm sure we both would. But do you think we can find a way to meet the family's needs without compromising our own positions?'

'I think so. I'm happy to work on it. We'd probably need to chat again. Are you on email?'

'I am, so we could produce a script together. If you're happier speaking off the cuff, you wouldn't need to prepare your sections, we could just put something like "prayers from Gordon" or whatever at the relevant points. The only slight problem with that is that we always offer the family the option of having a copy of the script after the ceremony, and they usually accept. Then they would only have a clear record of what I'd said – although I do ad lib a bit as well – and not such a clear record of what you'd said.'

'Hmmm. I'll have to think about that. You're giving me a lot to think about, Zinnia. I'm going to have a busy brain today! Shall we visit the family together?'

'I think that would be essential. How are you fixed?'

He was busy over the weekend, and I'm busy today, so we arranged the visit for Tuesday. That's tomorrow. So I'll tell you about it on Wednesday.