I’ve never been any good at learning foreign languages, but what I can do is use certain words from other languages or dialects in my everyday speech. My main language is English but I will sometimes use Welsh words which I think are particularly expressive or where there is no equivalent word in English. “Cwtch” or “hiraeth” or “twp” are three examples. These are often met with blank looks from my Scottish listeners! The same thing can happen when I visit Wales, I’ll use words such as “bourach”, “stooshie” or “fankle” only to be asked for a translation. I don’t do this on purpose, it just happens quite naturally. So I know that I have quite an extensive vocabulary even if others struggle with it! However, my knowledge of French is much more limited, but two words that I do keep for certain occasions are “au revoir” and “adieu”.

I first used the phrase “au revoir” when delivering a eulogy at a cousin’s funeral many years ago. My cousin had a deep religious faith and believed that death was not the end of life, but the end of a certain form of life. So using “au revoir” at the end of the eulogy (meaning “goodbye, until we meet again”) felt very appropriate at her funeral. I think that another cousin who attended that funeral would want “adieu” (meaning “goodbye”) at his funeral!! Words are important as they are one essential way of communicating what we think, what we feel, what we believe in, what matters to us.

I wonder if you would want to have one or other of those phrases used at your funeral? In fact, I wonder if you have ever thought about your funeral or farewell ceremony? I remember once being told in a lecture in the late 1970s that death had replaced sex as the latest social taboo. People simply did not like talking about the subject in those days, and talking about death still brings out a range of different reactions from people today. Many of us love a good ghost story, or being terrified by the latest zombie or vampire film, or spending time, money and effort preparing for Halloween. But if the subject is brought up in a serious way, many people will avoid talking about it, or will try to change the subject, or will claim that it is morbid, or will react with embarrassment. These reactions will often come from a place of fear or pain or a desire to ignore our mortality, and they must be treated with sensitivity and respect.

Nonetheless, social attitudes are slowly changing. This can be seen with the growing interest in death cafes; the emergence of soul midwifery; the appreciation of hospice work and palliative care; the encouragement to discuss end of life matters including making a will, and the courage of many to talk openly in the media about the pain of loss, or their terminal illness and impending death. I think that the pandemic also brought the subject much more into the public domain.

I have been involved with many funerals and memorials over the years, both personally when a family member or friend has died, or in my capacity as a minister and celebrant. I know from personal and professional experience that we are in a very sacred and profound space when we are touched by the death of someone close to us. That is why I believe that saying goodbye should be treated with great respect and sensitivity, and should reflect as far as possible what the deceased and his or her loved ones believe to be true. This might be a relatively straightforward matter for many people with strongly held religious beliefs, or for those who are atheist, but what about the rest of us? In a world where different religions and spiritualities talk about “resurrection” or “reincarnation” or “going home”, what do you think happens at death? Would you feel happy with “adieu” or “au revoir” or “I haven’t got a clue”? Does it matter to you at all? Thinking about these questions might not be important to you or may feel uncomfortable for you, but it would certainly help those left behind if you made your position as clear as possible.

Perhaps I am unusual in this respect, but these questions have intrigued me from time to time ever since I saw my first dead body when I was a teenager. My father died when I was sixteen, and the custom at that time was for the body to remain at home, if possible, until the funeral. I remember going to say goodbye to him before the coffin was closed and was struck by a sense that I was no longer looking at my father. Yes, it was his body, but it seemed to me that his body was no more than an empty shell, that something had left him, that he was no longer there. I knew that his physical system had died, that his internal organs – his heart and brain – had stopped working, but that couldn’t explain to me what had happened to him as a person, as a human being. I have been left thinking and feeling the same whenever I have seen dead bodies ever since. What has happened to them? Where are they now, if anywhere? The mystery remains, but somehow I can't help feeling that “adieu” is not enough ….

September 2023