I never expected it, but I officiated over a funeral for the first time last November. As a minister with the ULC, I've officiated over a dozen weddings secularly, but I've never been asked to officiate over a funeral. It really wasn't something I ever intended of doing.

But the deceased was irreligious, according to his father, and his father felt that he would have preferred a secular service. I didn't know the degree of his godlessness. Was he agnostic atheist? Hard atheist? Or maybe he was a believer who was just really quiet about his faith. I'll never know. But my friend came to me knowing that a) I am an ordained minister and b) I was also irreligious. It was actually quite an honor, though I wish the circumstances for that honor never arose.

So there I was on a Saturday night crafting my very first eulogy. I used a friend's template, but that had some religious elements in it. Consoling others is quite difficult. I've had instances where I would say, "sorry for your loss," when talking with someone, but to present for half an hour in a manner that is both consolatory and personal was a daunting task, which amazes me today that I managed to pull off.

First off, it was really apparent how religion can be soothing for believers. Tell the audience that the person is now at peace and will find his reward sooner than the rest of us. Or perhaps it's a matter of telling them that there's a master plan that is out of our control, so we should just submit to the is master plan and take solace in knowing that there's a reason. Or when someone is angry at God, ameliorate that rage with reminders of God's glory during times that are not as awful.

I couldn't rely on any of those. It's not what I believe, and it's not what the deceased believed. This eulogy had to be honest while still respecting the beliefs of others. I think I did a good job. I imagine that super-religious people could take offense at my omission of God, but those people are the ones who bitch about "Happy holidays" and other trivial matters anyway. There would be no pleasing those folks. If any of those were in attendance yesterday, their displeasure was not obvious.

Somehow pulling this all together was an easier task than I had thought. I had plenty of stories of his exploits, and I focused on those. A eulogy should make people experience the love and joy of the deceased, and I had some good anecdotes to use. I inserted two moments of silence where people could pray if they were inclined or simply reflect on life. I've been to enough funerals to become accustomed to the usual religious platitudes, and it honestly felt weird to not insert them since they are so ingrained in our culture. I simply concluded with, "May we all find peace during these troubled times."

The graveside service was unexpected. I had two days to prep the eulogy and practice it, but I didn't have anything planned for graveside. It was even more surreal for me, and I’m glad I didn't think too heavily on it, relying on instinct. Standing in front of the crowd with a typed eulogy was just another speech to give. As all eyes turned to me next to the casket, it hit me that everyone was looking to me for solace. This is what religious leaders do, except that they had the safety net of grace of God. What could I say to put people at ease without using God as a prop?

I mostly remember what I said. It was a bit of a blur. I started off with saying that no single word could describe him: witty, loyal, clever, son, … But he was a multi-faceted, complex individual. I expressed sadness that the parts I knew could not be experienced by others in attendance, but I also expressed envy that I would never see what they saw. I talked about how connected we all are. Whether it's because of a higher power or just random strings of atoms and coincidence, we were all connected. I'm really not sure what I said at the last part, but his mother told me that I described him to a T, so I apparently did all right there. Speak from the heart, as they say. It's not always easy for me to do.

So yeah, even though ministers are not required for funerals, I believe that my friend looked to me because I am ordained. Maybe he already had faith in my public speaking skills anyway, but he's religious, and he possibly focused on simply finding a minister and thought of me. Being an ordained minister carries some responsibility. I was never required to officiate over this funeral or any of the weddings, but there's an inherent trust society places on ministers (unfounded for certain ministers). It's expected in our society that ministers can offer solace.