Archive for year 2012
Gay Rights in Death: Finding Common Plots?
When you die, who is entitled to make your funeral and burial decisions?
Have you created a will?
Have you assigned an executor of your will?
Have you designated a beneficiary of your estate?
If you haven’t, that’s (sorta) okay because — by default — there is a legal (with emphasis on legal) next-of-kin (NOK). [1]
For married couples, one’s spouse is the legal NOK upon death, unless an Executor has been designated.
We saw this “legal NOK” play out on a public level with the death of Mary Kennedy. Even though Mary’s husband Robert was estranged, had filed for divorce and was living with his girlfriend, his legal status as “husband” confirmed him as the decision maker for Mary’s disposition, funeral and estate.
Mary’s family, recognizing the fact that Robert was possibly the least qualified to respect Mary’s wishes, sued for said rights of disposition. They lost. Sure, they had more affection for Mary. Sure, they had loved Mary better than Robert. Sure, Robert was probably the main influence in Mary’s suicide.
Unfortunately, though, the people who loved Mary the best in life were unable to do so in death. While the the legal process of designating a NOK in the absence of an Executor works most of the time, in Mary’s case it didn’t.
And this brings us to gay rights in death.
The latest statistics I’ve read show that half of Americas support gay marriage while the other half do not. It’s a divisive and complex discussion that touches anthropology, sociology, psychology, politics, genetics, gender and sexuality, philosophy and theology. I know this is a contentious conversation and I usually don’t touch bruised topics unless they involve Mark Driscoll.
But, being that few have looked at gay rights from the perspective of thanatology (the study of death and dying), I thought I’d give it a stab. From a thanatological perspective, this issue seems to be less determined by whether or not one agrees with gay marriage or civil unions and more to do with who can best honor the deceased in death.
In the Kennedy case, Mary could have legally designated an Executor of her estate before she died. This would have taken away Robert’s default NOK rights and placed them to the designated Executor. The problem was this: she didn’t designate an Executor.
While I’m sure committed gay couples — recognizing that many states don’t affirm their unions — will often set up their partner as an Executor, the case of Mary Kennedy shows that not everyone has a binding will that designates their Executor … even when they SHOULD have a binding will.
I’m sure there’s cases that exist right now where a gay couple has been together for a couple decades and haven’t set up a will or designated their partner as the executor. And, I’m sure, like the Kennedy case, the legal NOK (the parents or possibly children), may attempt to ostracize those that really loved the deceased the best.
And yes, Robert ostracized Mary’s family from having any part in the service.
What happens when a gay committed couple hasn’t designated their partner as the executor?
What happens when the parents so disapprove of the gay relationship that — like Robert did with Mary’s family — the legal NOK ostracizes the partner who had been with the deceased for decades?
When does the Christian church’s hunger for being Biblical and right become cruelty?
Should the church support denying somebody the ability to properly grieve?
You may be personally opposed to the state granting gay couples the right to marry (and I do realize that the issue at hand is much larger than simply whether or not the state should affirm gay marriage), but it seems that denying a couple the ability to care and take care of their partner in death creates the kind of drama and difficulty that was recently on display in the death of Mary Kennedy.
[1] If an Executor has not been designated, by default your spouse is granted those rights. If your spouse isn’t alive or you aren’t married, it becomes your oldest child who is over the age of 18. If you don’t have a child over the age of 18 — or you don’t have children — it’s your parents. If your parents are dead, the NOK becomes your eldest sibling. If you don’t have siblings, parents, a spouse, or child, you should DEFINITELY consider designating an executor or you may find your inheritance being awarded to the state, or some distant cousin you’ve never met.
“You Working on Memorial Day?”
I’ve been finding myself at local hospital morgues nearly every day for the past month and today was no different. I parked my car behind the hospital in the little parking space that they have set aside for us funeral directors … a space where the dead are out of view from the living. I backed up to the ramp, put my car in park, pulled out my stretcher, punched the passcode into the security lock and parked my stretcher in front of the morgue door. From there, I took the long walk from the back of the hospital, through the halls and to the front, where I happened to pass the security guard. Usually he’s in his office, but today I must have caught him returning from fulfilling one of his many duties.
“You’ll be seeing me in a moment”, I said as I pass him along the hall. He’s responsible for opening the morgue and – if he’s feeling up for it — helping me with the transfer.
He’s about 35 years old. Nice. Professional guy. Takes his job seriously.
He stops the conversation that he’s having with a pretty nurse, turns around and starts walking with me to the lab that holds the paper work I have to fill out to officially release the body from the care of the hospital.
“I’ll let the lab staff know that I’m aware you’re here so they don’t have to page me.”
He lets them know, and starts his walk back to the morgue while I fill out the necessary paper work for the release.
I walk back and he’s at the morgue door waiting for me.
“Do you want some gloves, sir?” he asks.
I’m 30 years old, but I look more like 25ish. He’s probably 35. “Why would he call me ‘sir’?” I think to myself. This honorific was so natural for him too Pondering it a little more I suspect I know why, so I probe.
“You have the weekend off?” I ask.
“Yup.” He replies.
“You working Memorial Day?”
“Nope. Sittin at home, by myself, remembering.”
Feeling pretty confident that I’ve figured out why the whole “sir” thing was so natural for him, I ask my next question based on an assumption: “Are most of your co-workers ex-military?”
“Yes, sir.” He says. “Our boss is ex-army and hires us veterans.”
I reply: “Going from military to security is probably an easy transition for you guys.”
“Not for me. I was trained to take lives not save ‘em.”
At this point, the conversation moves from small talk to real talk. He’s starting to get personal and I can tell he wants me to know who and what he is.
“I’m an ex-marine. I was on the front lines of the first wave of infantry when we invaded Iraq.”
Out of the blue, without me probing, he say, “Lost some good fuckin friends.”
I lost a great uncle in World War II (who I obviously never knew), I lost a childhood friend in Iraq, but I’ve never served in the Military. I’ve attended a hundred military funeral services, some at Military Cemeteries and a half dozen at Arlington Cemetery, but I’ve never lost a close friend. My dad and cousin have blown taps for hundreds of veterans at their interment, but none of those veterans were my immediate family.
I know enough to know that while Memorial Day has significance for our nation, but I can’t say I have a personal connection to Memorial Day like the parents and sisters of my childhood friend, or like the this young man I was a talking to as we pulled the body out of the morgue.
I could have pushed him. I know how to ask the questions that start the tears, but I refrained. “He’s shed enough”, I thought.
But I pushed him anyways. I looked him in the eyes as I draped the cover over the dead body lying on my stretcher, “What are you doing on Monday?” Tears started to well up in his eyes, so I pulled back any more questions.
He paused. Gathered himself. Looked at the ground and shook his head. His emotion was still raw, and he struggled to constrain them.
I knew what he was saying. I’ve heard it said a thousand times. No words, but enough to say what you’re feeling.
After he gathered himself, and I listened for a couple minutes, it was time for me to go.
He helped me down the ramp to my car. I reached out my hand, shook his hand and said, “Thank you for your sacrifice.”
“I’d do it again”, he said.
This Memorial Day I’ll be remembering him as he sits in his house and remembers the ever haunting ghosts that will torment his life. I will remember and memorialize the sacrifice this young man has given as he carries the burdens those who passed before their time.
We should remember that these types of deaths also can take the lives of those left alive.
Being a Woman in the Death Care Industry
Amanda Boling
Growing up in a small rural area of Arkansas it never occurred to me that I couldn’t do anything just because I was a girl. The thought of working in the death care industry had crossed my mind a few times throughout high school but as a teenager I was more concerned with fitting in so I took the route of going to cosmetology school instead. After a few years of working in a salon I became bored and decided to move on to a new field, start a family, and was eventually laid off, which helped me make the decision to go back to school … funeral school.
The night before school started panic hit me. I thought “what if I’m the only woman in class?”
I was relieved to find that I was not the only girl but in fact that at least half of the students were female. I was surprised to learn that 57 percent of U.S. mortuary school graduates are women. The industry is definitely changing but it still shocks so many people to find out what my major is. The reactions I’ve received have ranged from nervous laughter to silence. I’ve even had a person that bluntly said “I didn’t realize women did that.”
I’m never offended by these reactions but I know that people look at me differently. I honestly don’t care if people think I’m odd. I believe the death care industry is extremely important to society and so often people chose to ignore that because we as a society do not like to think about death.
After a few months of classes I started an apprenticeship with a local family owned funeral home and I knew right away that I wouldn’t be able to blend in as I had in the past with previous jobs. Most of the funeral homes in the area are family owned and consist of men fifty years and older.
When I was hired, I learned that there was no such thing as a dress code for women so we had to come to an agreement on what would be appropriate for death calls, visitations, and funerals. Another obstacle that I faced was the fact that all the men wore matching ties and suits on certain days of the week.
The owner offered to buy me a few reasonably priced suits if I could find something that closely matched theirs to “fit in.” I thanked him for the offer but thought to myself “A twenty six year old female is going to attract attention no matter what hanging around a funeral home.” Despite the age and gender difference I’ve still managed to jump right in with the guys and do what needs to be done.
The biggest problem I believe I have faced so far is the fact that men underestimate me being a woman. Because there is a fair amount of lifting involved in this line of work the men call upon each other for assistance completely overlooking me.
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t believe they ignore me to be rude but rather out of respect so I find myself constantly reminding them “I’m not as delicate and fragile as you think.” I do realize that I’m not always capable of doing everything alone but I’ve never let that stop me from pursuing my career.
Besides the obvious fact that hair dressing and makeup are not a challenge for me, being a woman in the industry is always a nice way to start a conversation when you find yourself working a funeral or visitation. I find it interesting how people are curious and seek me out to strike up conversations.
I love meeting new people especially the older generations. They always seem to be very eager to talk to me (especially the men) and find out why I do what I do. I tell them I enjoy my job because it’s not your ordinary 8-5 grind and you provide a service to families in need at the same time.
I never really thought much about it but I suppose a woman can be more approachable than a man when you are distressed and in need of comfort. It never ceases to amaze me when complete strangers open up to me and tell me how important a simple smile was to them as they passed me during the service.
When you think of important qualities that a funeral director should possess it would most certainly include being approachable, comforting, compassionate, and friendly so I think that we may have the upper hand in the so called boys club when it comes to that aspect. I’m certainly not saying that men aren’t capable of this but I think most men would agree that it may come more naturally for a woman. While I understand that this may not be the easiest profession for me to join I love the challenge and hope that other women will follow.
*****
I’m a 26 year old single mom from Brookland, Arkansas. I expect to have my funeral degree by May 2013. When I’m not chasing a toddler I enjoy all things girly. I have a slight obsession with fingernail polish, and I enjoy spending time with my boyfriend who is also a funeral director.
Why Doesn’t God Prevent Evil?
We believe that God is omnibenevolent.
As many of you know, in addition to being a funeral director, I moonlight as a youth leader for at-risk youth. Just the other day I spoke with a teenage girl who had been repeatedly raped by her father when she was only twelve.
While we believe that God is always good, where was God when the twelve year olds trust was betrayed by her father as his hand silenced her screams and his carnal desires ruined her future? Couldn’t God have simply defended this innocent child … like you and I would have? Hell, if I saw any kind of rape, yet alone the ravaging of a child, I would be thrown into an infuriating rage. But God – the good God you believe in – sat sidelined, unmoved to action; then, and even now throughout the world, the cries of the innocent fail to move the divine.
How do we interpret this problem? Do we jettison God’s omnipotence by emphasizing the freedom of man? And how much of God’s power can we jettison before He is just a god?
Most, in response to the above situation, would say, “God has voluntarily limited himself by creating humanity with freedom.” Yet, even though that seems to exonerate the goodness of God by placing the blame on man, there’s an assumption that God could – if he wished – unlimit himself and override our freedom through coercion, a phenomenon we often call “providence.”
“God could, if he had so desired, stopped the holocaust” we say. And my response is simply, “Then why didn’t He?” If God could override the freedom of man, why doesn’t he? Why doesn’t he spare the children? Or the rape victims?
Dr. Thomas Oord
Dr. Thomas Jay Oord echoes this sentiment. He writes,
“When we are victims of senseless crimes, when our children or friends are raped or killed, or when atrocious evils occur, it is hard if not impossible to avoid thinking, “Why doesn’t God stop this?” It is difficult if not impossible to worship wholeheartedly the God who could have prevented these evil(s)” but doesn’t.
In “The Nature of Love: A Theology”, Dr. Oord proposes a seminal idea that he calls “essential kenosis.”
In some sense, essential kenosis is a synthesis of open theism and process theism. Open theism has made great advances in deconstructing and peeling away Hellenistic assumptions about God’s ontology while attempting to stay faithful to the biblical witness. They’ve questioned the nature of God’s immutability, passibility and — most notably — omniscience and proposed innovative reconstructions. Yet, the open theists have yet to produce any convincing answer to the question, “Why doesn’t God override or circumvent humanity’s evil more often?”
The redefinition of God’s omnipotence has been accomplished – convincingly or not — by process theologians who believe that God can NEVER use coercion, but can only persuade; a conclusion that they arrive to based off the idea of panentheism.
Michael Brierley notes,
Panentheism is the result of conceiving “being” in terms of relationship or relatedness. This is why process theism is a type of panentheism, for “process” asserts that “entities” are inseparably interrelated, and thus that relationship, rather than substance, is “of the essence.” (9).
With relationship as essence, God becomes much less Greek and much more Hebrew, which means the “I AM” is interrelatedness, persuasion, influence, while coercion, force and, yes, many forms of providence are intrinsically NOT apart of the “I AM.” According to Charles Hartshorne, panentheism is ʺthe view that all things are within the being of God, who yet is not merely the whole of actual things.”
This relatedness ontology makes persuasion God’s only means of influence. But, this relatedness ontology also prompts process theologians to view miracles and even the resurrection with great skepticism.
Oord states, in recognition of the failures of both process and open theism, that “essential Kenosis … overcomes the problem of evil and presents God as steadfastly loving. Essential Kenosis offers a way of understanding God’s power, while affirming the occurrence of miracles, the resurrection of Jesus, hope for a final victory at the end of history, and a biblically supported doctrine of creation” (100).
“Essential Kenosis” is Oord’s seminal attempt to both acknowledge the more positive points of Process Theology’s ontology while attempting to remain faithful to the witness of scripture.
And if you want to find out how Oord’s “Essential Kenosis” attempts that synthesis, buy his book, “The Nature of Love”!
As one who works (and moonlights) while witnessing the problem of evil, let me say “The Nature of Love” is well worth your effort to both read it and understand it.
