Churchyards

Had a letter a few days ago. One of those awkward ones I didn’t want to reply to, so I put it on one side to do later when I’d thought about it a bit.

Just one tiny problem – now I can’t find the letter. Did I throw it out on that momentous occasion when I actually cleared the desk? Have I put it in a safe place, never to be seen again? Has someone else moved it? (I glare accusingly at the family.)

Fortunately I can remember the gist of it, even though I have no idea of the name of the lady who sent it, her address or her telephone number. (Why can’t EVERYONE use email?)

It was about a headstone in one of our churchyards. Next Wednesday I shall be burying the ashes of this lady’s father, in an existing grave which houses his presumably long dead parents. He meanwhile, moved down to the South coast where he has now died, but the daughter wants his ashes placed in his parents’ grave.

So far, so good. Then comes this letter requesting that the stone is in the shape of an open book and will I allow that? The answer is no, which is why it’s tricky.

Why on earth can’t she have an open book? I hear you ask, somewhat indignantly.

Because churchyards are governed by rules from on high. No, not God, but not a great deal lower. Presumably some bureaucratic committee somewhere sits in judgement and has nothing better to do than write rules and regulations to govern every churchyard in the country. One such rule is that you can’t have a gravestone in the shape of an open book. (Yes, I know you’ve seen loads on your treks around graveyards – wonderful hobby – but you’ll see they are from years ago, when it was allowed. Times have changed.)

So anyway. I rang the funeral director to see if he had the lady’s details – he had – so I then rang her and explained as best I could that these were the regulations and we didn’t have much choice in the matter. Not sure she entirely believed me.

Churchyards are one of the trickiest parts of my ministry because problems arise at a time when people are at their most vulnerable and in a very emotional state. Why can’t they have what they want in churchyards?

Apparently so that churchyards are always neat and a joy to behold for visitors and relatives.

But give me a bit of disorder, plastic flowers and stone angels any day, if it helps the family’s grieving. Who cares what it looks like for posterity?
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