Aug 08: Saying Goodbye



The night is still. The church is quiet, except for the occasional sniff or whispered word. A candle throws a flickering light; unsettling and comforting at the same time.

At the front of the church a couple of people sit, staring into the distance; looking beyond the coffin covered by a white cloth. Remembering. Good times. Hard times. Still numb with shock and disbelief. Hurting, but somehow strangely comforted.

That white cloth; it brings such joyful memories. It's the same cloth new Christians are wrapped in when they come up out of the baptismal water. It's what the person lying in the coffin was wrapped in when they arose from the waters of baptism. And now they are wrapped in it again. But the circumstances are different, but perhaps not as much as the people there had expected. Then the family shed tears of joy; now they are tears of grief. But, to their surprise, there's a touch of joy mixed with the pain.

They recall the day they were baptised. When they entered the water it was as if they were dying. The old life, the one described as being dead in the muck of sin, was buried with Christ. (The family smiles at the joke made at the time – if the minister didn't lift them up from under the water, they certainly would be dead!) But up out of the water they came – to a new life. And then they were wrapped in that white cloth. Their new robe, it was called.

And now they are wrapped in it again. But this time they are dead. The family won’t see them again in this life. But they will meet again. And this time they will be dressed in the robe that Christ himself will put on them. And he will wipe away all their tears. Oh what a time of joy that will be.

A cool breeze causes the candle to flicker. The minister has come back to join the family, despite the lateness of the hour. (He was there when they brought the coffin into the church.) He doesn't say much this time; he doesn't need to. He gives them a hug (expressing his love and sympathy far more than words could do) and tells the family they are welcome to stay as long as they like; just pull the door closed if they leave. He must go and get ready for the farewell service they'll hold tomorrow morning. He then quietly leaves the family to continue their vigil.

This is a fictitious, yet realistic picture of a vigil, something that some churches are reclaiming as a lost element of Christian funerary rites. While this story is fiction, it highlights an important link between baptism and Christian death and how symbolism can be a powerful element in linking the two.

In Romans 6:3–4, Paul says, “3Do you not know that all of us who have been baptised into Christ Jesus were baptised into his death? 4 Therefore we have been buried with him by baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life.”

Regardless of whether one views this passage as a reference to spiritual baptism (at conversion or afterwards) or to physical baptism (when a person is submerged under water), or to both, the link between baptism and death is significant. In submersion we are identified with Christ's death and burial. (We shouldn't miss the irony; if a person doesn't come up from under the water they will die.) In arising from the water, we are identified with Christ's resurrection.

And it's this second link that may be an incredibly powerful comfort for those grieving the death of a Christian. Quoting Paul again: “5 For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we will certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his.” (Rom 6:5). In baptism we are incorporated into Christ's death and resurrection. And when a Christian dies, their death is the beginning of their journey into resurrection in Christ. (The concept of the funeral as the beginning of a journey is another understanding that, I fear, has almost been lost.) For the Christian, death is not the end; Christ has risen, and, just as we are identified with Him in His death, we also rise with Him into new life. What hope! What anticipation! What a promise! Those who are baptised in water and Spirit rise to a new life – but this new life is experienced only in part. We all must face another baptism; the baptism of death, from which we will arise to new life, a life that will be experienced in all the fullness of Christ.

Finally a word about symbolism. The loss of symbols is something we ought to lament. It renders our worship very one-dimensional and we are left poorer as a result. Symbols can speak to us at a level that simple words can never attain. And it's when we are hurting the most that they may be the most powerful. Often their loss is due to a lack of understanding about their meaning. While some may argue that symbols work best when they are not explained, I fear our culture is such that, without some explanation, symbols may be misunderstood.

A practice that has been lost in many churches is the use of a white cloth to cover the coffin. Known as a pall, it might be seen as a stark symbol of death. Similarly, many churches no longer place a white robe around the newly baptised; perhaps seeing it as something provided just for modesty. (This was probably a good thing when the early church baptised people naked!)

But, as identified in the story above, the two are linked; they symbolise being clothed in Christ: Gal 3:27 “As many of you as were baptised into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ.” The use of the same robe in the rite of baptism as a pall in a Christian funeral is, I believe, a useful idea. It might help the grieving family (and the rest of the Christian community) make a link between baptism and resurrection. And anything that speaks of the reality of resurrection at a Christian funeral is worth considering.


Stephen Millington is a member of the Australian Academy of Liturgy and attends NewHope Baptist Church.


Also in this Section: