In this week’s Guest Blog, Shoonagh Hubble talks about her journey to becoming a funeral celebrant and gives us a fascinating peek behind the scenes at the comprehensive training that prepared her for this deeply rewarding and important role.
A music hall entertainer who had made her name as Britain’s strongest woman; a much-loved teacher who became a pillar of his community; a rather challenging grandmother whose bitterness and resentment led to a lonely old age…
These are just some of the hypothetical case studies I was presented with during my funeral celebrant training with Humanists UK. For each of them I was tasked with writing a full funeral service, complete with appropriate music and readings. Each ceremony had to contain the appropriate balance of solemnity and humour, had to include a eulogy, a “committal” section and (the bit I kept leaving out) all the right instructions so the attendees weren’t left cluelessly hovering in mid-air (please stand, please be seated, please switch off your mobile phone…). Most importantly, they had to fully reflect the personality and life history of the person we were saying goodbye to…What could be easier?!!
So, how had I got to the point where I was writing eulogies for someone I had never met before? Well, it all started with my mother. A creative, cultured woman with a warm sense of humour, Mum didn’t “do God”. Whilst she loved churches for their soaring vaults and inspirational music, she had no interest in religion playing a part in her send-off. In fact, apart from that, she left no instructions at all! So, when she died after a long struggle with dementia, I set about creating a ceremony that she would have loved. I rented a small country barn (with a bar so that people could be handed a drink on arrival – she would have appreciated that!); we all decorated it with her favourite flowers, photos and lots of things she had created, and we took part in a celebration which was a true, meaningful tribute to this wonderful person. We read poems, sang songs, watched a very poignant video, cried, cheered, and laughed, especially when my brother related “10 things that annoyed me about Mum”. It was just right…
Remarkably, organising this little ceremony really helped me process my loss. I came away feeling so much happier than when I had embarked on it, knowing that we had really done justice to a special person. It was such a positive emotion that I thought it would be great to help others process their own loss in a similar way, creating celebrations that were meaningful and appropriate for their loved ones.
I investigated all the different options for celebrant training but, for me, Humanists UK really stood out for the rigour of their teaching and the support they give to their new celebrants. Most of all, their fundamental belief that we only have one life and that we need to enjoy the things that give it meaning, whether that be relationships, curiosity, helping others, beauty, love…Humanist funerals celebrate all this.
The bulk of the training consisted of two residentials at the University of Warwick. It had been a long time since I had done anything with a group of people whom I’d never met before, but I was immediately put at ease by the fact each and every member of the group was someone I wanted to spend time with. What is it about funeral celebrants that makes them such great company? I think they are genuinely interested in people, have warmth, integrity and a sense of humour. They’re also amazing listeners. These people came from all types of backgrounds – there was a teacher, a marketing exec, a CEO of a huge charity, two university lecturers, a professional DJ… but the thing they had in common was that they EXUDED empathy. Being with them was like being surrounded by a warm hug.
The training itself was less of a hug and more of an ice bath! Comprehensive lessons about funeral formats, humanist thinking and how to deal with funeral directors, were followed by written assignments that would have taxed the most assiduous post-graduate student. How do we “celebrate” the bitter elderly lady who had never reached her potential? How do we deal with families who have conflicting ideas of what the funeral should involve? How do we write about that pillar of the community without sounding sycophantic and cloying? And, as the training progressed, how do we deal with suicide, child death and the deaths of isolated people?
Before each written assignment we had to watch a two hour recorded interview between the celebrant and the family, where they went into exhaustive detail about the person’s life, and we had to read letters and tributes from friends and colleagues. It was incredible to see how much depth the celebrants explored in order to create a vivid, complete picture of the person.
Crafting the ceremony was the part I enjoyed most. Weaving funny and poignant stories into a person’s life history and trying to ensure that everyone at the ceremony would feel seen and included. I came to realise it is a real art, and one I’m still learning…
The finale was a rather unglamorous trip to Nuneaton Crematorium on a grey, appropriately-funereal Saturday morning. There we gathered in our sober outfits, clutching our scripts in their bound folders. Each of us took it in turns to deliver our ceremony to our tutors and fellow-trainees. Each time, the tutors processed in with a cardboard “coffin” and we performed our ceremony as if it was the real thing. I’ve got to say that none of the funerals I have done since have been as nerve-wracking as that first one. We were marked down for not keeping to time, for grammatical errors, even (in my case) for sipping from a water bottle rather than a glass!
Luckily, despite that heinous crime, I passed, and, after a period of probation, am now a fully-fledged celebrant, accredited by Humanists UK. Whilst the work is never going to make me rich, it is enriching in so many other ways: I have witnessed abject heartbreak, dogged resilience, unfailing courage and the blackest of humour. It has been a privilege to enter these people’s lives at a period of such intense emotion. Every single person I have “celebrated” has been someone I wish I had met.
And each time I take on a funeral I stick to the three rules that I learned when I did my Mum’s:
Everyone will learn something new about the person they’re saying goodbye to;
Guests will feel better when they leave than when they went in;
The person would love to have been there!
The perfect send-off.
Thank you Shoonagh for this fascinating insight into your celebrant journey.
Image: Shoonagh Hubble by Serena Bolton Photography