In 2022 our church had two special funerals for deceased members.

First there was Tom. I did not know Tom very well, but my husband knew him as a high school classmate, and later as a customer and friend of ours. Tom was a lifelong bachelor in his mid-80s, who had died alone in his home.

As church officers, my husband and I felt responsible to locate any relatives Tom might have had. We needed to find someone who could authorize a funeral home to remove the body from the medical examiner’s facility. This involved many phone calls to cemeteries, funeral homes, the veterans’ office, and others. We even searched old Recorder files at the library to find Tom’s father’s obituary from 1957. These searches led us to contacting a member of the local Masonic Lodge, and then to placing a Facebook request for any relative of Tom’s to call us. Everyone we called was very kind and helpful, and through Facebook we found Tom’s niece in New Hampshire. She was able to contact Tom’s lawyer, and to start a long process for settling her uncle’s affairs.

Meanwhile, our church wanted to have a funeral. The niece, Joanie, was afraid she would be crying, but we promised to support her. She was the only relative able to attend the service. Several of Tom’s old friends from high school came, also several members of the Masonic Lodge, some church members and Tom’s next-door neighbors.

Tom’s funeral was a celebration-of-life service. It was a typical service, with a few words of greeting, followed by a hymn of praise, then some familiar scriptures, including Psalm 23. After another hymn, there were more comments and Bible verses regarding what is life and how Christians view the hope, the promise, and the assurance of everlasting life after death, through the saving grace of Christ, our Savior. Several attendees spoke of their memories of Tom. The celebration of life was filled with joy, and there were no tears. Hope and promise and joy – how uplifting!

The second funeral was beautiful and upbeat, as planned in detail by the 97-year-old deceased lady, several years before her death. Norma had been married three times. Her second and third husbands had both died rather young, and she had memorialized them by donating lovely stained-glass windows in her church. Norma’s descendants were all relatives of my husband, and Norma was a dear friend.

Norma had planned everything. Her eldest son, “TowBee,” a Buddhist monk, would read a poem he had sent her long ago. Her granddaughter, Swan, would deliver the eulogy. The former pastor would follow a standard format for a funeral service. However, there would be no Psalm 23. Instead, there would be Psalm 121. There would be specific verses from John 14, and the entire “Love Chapter” from First Corinthians, chapter 13.

Norma had also selected the music. As a prelude, “The Hills Are Alive,” and hymns “Amazing Grace” and “Nearer, My God, To Thee.” As duets, Maxine and I would sing “In the Bulb There Is a Flower” and “O Master, Let Me Walk With Thee,” written by Norma’s grandfather. The recessional music would be “Morning Has Broken.”

My only concern was that we were to sing “O Master…” immediately after Swan’s eulogy. I remembered that Swan had lost her 12-year-old son to an ocean undercurrent six months earlier. I was afraid that if Swan got choked up, I would be fighting back tears while trying to sing our duet. I knew that I could not have delivered any eulogy for loved ones so soon after the death of my son, and I could only pray that Swan might be much stronger than I had been.

Swan’s words of remembrance for her beloved grandmother went as planned, kind and sweetly positive. Suddenly, though, her last paragraph mentioned the loss of her son, and how loving and helpful her grandmother had been to her. Mercifully, Swan was not choked up, but I was wrestling with mostly unshed tears, and then Maxine and I had to stand up to sing. I smiled at Maxine and nodded to the organist. After our intro, the first four notes we sang came out clear and true, and my throat relaxed. (God is good.)

Later at the cemetery, after the pastor had finished the short committal service and pronounced a benediction, TowBee led the Buddhist family members in a traditional responsive chant, and then one of Swan’s husband’s family members concluded with a Christian prayer. The entire morning was blessedly ecumenical, multi-racial, and multicultural, just as Norma wanted it. Hope and promise and assurance – praise be to God!

The Robbins Memorial Congregational Church was founded in 1892, originally serving the residents of the west side of Greenfield. Its name honors its founder, the Reverend Dr. Francis Robbins. The church became affiliated with the National Association of Congregational Christian Churches in 2006 (N.A.C.C.C.). Although we are famous for our pies, worship and mission are our chief activities. Worship services are 10 a.m. Sundays, with lay worship leaders at present. Mission work is mostly with local charities now, since COVID. All are welcome. You can email us at RobbinsChurchGreenfield@gmail.com.

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