My cousin asks me to help her plan her husband’s funeral, “although he wasn’t religious”. As we draw up an outline, several Christian ingredients are left out. No hymns. No Lord’s Prayer. No Blessing. No comfort from the Scriptures. No hope of eternal life.

We want to be true to Simon’s convictions, and not to stray into what, for many nowadays, is meaningless religious imagery and jargon. After all, ‘Zion’ is nothing to do with Middle Eastern politics, ‘manna’ isn’t a policeman’s beat, and ‘Jordan’ is neither a river nor Katie Price.

But we still can’t keep God out of this funeral! God is everywhere and in everything: the love, the loss, the sadness and celebration, the wonder and mystery of existence, the ever-present assumption that our time on earth has significance and meaning.

Simon’s life was remarkable, as husband and father, friend and neighbour, valued colleague, successful oarsman and late-in-life jazz musician. He was no random collaboration of molecules, but an integrated person-in-community, with character, consciousness and creativity. He was loving and was loved.

With all this, especially at his funeral, comes the inescapable question: If we’re grateful for Simon’s unique personality and remarkable life, who is it we’re thanking?

In the end, we find ourselves including a couple of Christian hymns. Because, when it comes to expressing the inexpressible - our experience of being held by love in a universe of wonder – the old words say it best.

Written by Andrew Knowles, of St George’s Church in Kendal.

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