The fun in funerals and the bittersweet

I've attended a number of funerals in the last few years as a support to mourners. Mostly the deceased have been students, most young people in their 20s. A number of them have been non-religious ceremonies. And I've also been to a number of funerals for other people too. One of the strands running through many of all of the above has been a declared desire to celebrate the life of the person who has died. In fact, thinking about it, when I was reasonably regularly conducting funerals myself, this was a refrain I was increasingly hearing as I spoke with the bereaved next of kin and friends.

The BBC have recently run an article on this growing phenomenon in which we can read:

 Instead of looking ahead to the afterlife, British funerals increasingly rejoice in memories of the deceased's triumphs, relationships and their favourite songs. There's a phrase for ceremonies like this - "a celebration of life" Happy funerals: A celebration of life? - BBC News

The manifestations of this desire can show up in a variety of ways, but my experience would note requests from the family of the deceased for people attending the event to wear bright colours or particular forms of clothing that were in some way meaningful to the person who has died. Also what was said in the ceremony would highlight the fun and good times. This makes more sense in the increasingly commonly articulated idea that the only afterlife that can be guaranteed or made sense of by many is 'living on in our memories'. In that scenario, one wants happy and positive memories to be a host to!
There's a lot to affirm in this but there are a couple of concerns that a responsible ceremony-leader should probably be balancing in the planning of the occasions.
To be affirmed is the recognition of the value of human relations and of memory: that each of us is because of the others in and around our lives and that the things we can celebrate about those we have loved are the very stuff of growing and worthwhile relationships (in general terms, at least, occasionally I do wonder). To be affirmed (though I suspect this is not really what is intended by those wanting celebrations of life) is the bittersweetness of such recollections. In the fond recollection there is an awareness that this has come to an end and this produces a feeling of Sehensucht. And I think that is probably a good thing at a funeral.

"Instead of looking to an afterlife" is an interesting counterpoise. I take it that it is meant as a characterisation of a traditional religious funeral. And I certainly gained the impression in comments about funerals as celebrations of life, that one of the things that people were trying to get away from is feeling that they could only really participate if they had some kind of belief in the afterlife and/or God. The two don't necessarily go together, of course: some people believe in some kind of God without an afterlife and some consider an afterlife perfectly possible but not really God. What we should take from that is that it is not necessarily the case any more that the concern uppermost in mourners' minds about the fate of the deceased after death and doing something for them to make things better or at least not to get in the way of their post-mortem happiness. Denial or agnosticism about life after life therefore shifts the horizon of the ceremony in most people's understandings. Now it has to be about the way that those who are left carry on and a big part of that is how they remember the deceased.
Never mind that most CofE funerals have, for a good while, included concern for the bereaved and incorporated some kind of eulogy; clearly the God/afterlife themes have a stronger cultural hold associated with the church funeral hanging on in the popular imagination than the frequent realities of the actual experiences of the funerals.
This leads into my concerns. A bit further on in the article, we read: "despite being being the great leveller, death is increasingly seen as an occasion to express one's individuality." That can work quite well with the celebration of life and may have played a part in strengthening the idea: what one wishes for oneself, is projected onto the funerals of others (and that in turn becomes a template for still others). I don't have a problem with that except in one respect. Sometimes the wishes of the deceased may not be appropriate for the needs of the mourners. As one of those interviewed puts it...

He doesn't want any tears. The purpose is not to dwell on loss, he says, but to rejoice in what happened when he was alive: "I don't want them mourning - I want them laughing."

But, I want to say, it's not just about what you want. In any case, you will either be completely absent, or at least in a position, I would hope, to appreciate better the needs of those left behind. They may need to grieve and the ceremony probably should be an occasion when something of that can be expressed in solidarity with other mourners. This gives permission for it to be done. In actual fact, it is an honour to the deceased that their impact has been such that they will be missed. Tears are appropriate. That's not to say that laughter is out of place and I think that there is a rightful reaction against funerals being only about grief.
You see, I think it is important that the positive place a funeral can have in the bereavement process is recognised. For it to do that, it should normally help the bereaved to face their loss, at least in the initial or early phases. To do this in community with others is part of what a funeral offers by way of benefits. Bereavement also involves recognising and beginning to renarrate ones own stories in relation to the person who has died; to make meaning out of the event of the death by situating or re-situating in the stories which carry most meaning for us. This is a time for bittersweet and for Sehensucht, and something of that should normally be part of the funereal proceedings; after all, any remembering has to entail some recollection at some level that a sad event involving the one remembered has taken place. This has been where, traditionally, relating to the big story of God and human destiny has come in.
So, it seems to me, that remembering something of the significance and the abundance of the life of one who has died is important. To give hospitality to laughter and tears is likely to be part of that. In some cases the laughter is part of the ceremony, in others, part of the informal eating and drinking afterwards.

And we remember. And it is true that remembering is a kind of afterlife for the one remembered. We do all belong to one another in the memories and stories we share; we don't just exist in our own heads but in the minds and memories of those we love and who love us (as we are reminded in 'I am a Strange Loop' by Douglas Hofstadter). Keeping the memory alive, in this sense, is a kind of maintaining the remaining life of the deceased.
As a Christian, I want to affirm that and gently suggest that there is One Who Remembers more fully, intimately with greater love and more realism than any of us. Remembers each and every one of us. Eternally. And as creator is able to give life to that remembering in a way that far exceeds the lingering but fading recollections of us humans. Giving a fullness of life and a perfecting of life. Dipping that lively remembrance in glory and setting it in a web of recollection of the best and of fulness and completion. We call this New Creation. Do we dare speak of this hope?