It is so disrespectful and hurtful to insist that the religious views of the living trump those of the person whose funeral it is. When a loved one passes on, we must remember them as they were and celebrate their lives and memories. To plaster a fake veneer of religiosity over an atheist’s memorial service renders those memories false and hollow. It defeats the purpose of a funeral or memorial–to celebrate the person’s life, to share stories of their best moments, their passions, their pain and joy–to pander to the sensibilities of others.

Just another example of how religion makes good people to awful things to each other.

I hope the memorial for M goes well and that those that love him are also able to carve out your own safe secular space to celebrate his life and grieve his loss.

DO they still publicly read wills before the relatives of the deceased? Maybe I could get in some good posthumous guilttripping or something?

He did not “denigrate” religion in the classroom. Unlike the Christian fascists currently highjacking human rights, women’s rights, civil rights and science public policy to try and ram their medieval sexist/homophobic/racist version of the universe down the throats of the American electorate he encouraged his students to respectfully challenge, question and engage in rational civil discourse about sociopolitical issues.

So your friend ruled his classes like a prizefighter?

How did the religious students feel when he denigrated religion?

Were they free to talk back?

Sure. Sure they were.

Thanks. It sounds like you were able to carve out some safe secular space in an otherwise untenable situation with your brother’s spouse. That was actually the scenario with my friend’s passing — a defiant spouse who commandeered and destroyed what could have been a meaningful gathering of friends, colleagues, family AND former students of all ages. Fortunately an alternative memorial is being planned for M.

His widow was offended, and that’s a shame, but I agree 100% with “vel” (#10) that this was a time to take a stand and I am so glad we did.

This is a hell of a good post, and one which addresses something that’s been on my mind a lot this year. In March, a friend of mine died in a freak occurrence that I would regard as kind of goofy if it hadn’t ended the life of someone I loved; she was in her early 20s. She was as irreligious as could possibly be–something we bonded over fairly early on–although I’m fairly sure she wasn’t “out” to her very Catholic family. The funeral wasn’t as over-the-top religious as I would have expected (due, I think, to some logistical issues resulting in the service being held at the cemetery instead of a church, without a priest), but nevertheless the standard platitudes were out in full force–“she’s with God now,” “she’s in a better place,” “part of God’s divine plan,” and the rest. At the time, part of me could picture the two of us trying–and failing–not to snicker at the religious wankery on display, but mostly I was just trying to keep from bawling in front of a few of my coworkers in attendance. It was hard on me knowing that this nerdy, awesome, ridiculous person I cared for so much, whose company was frequently the only thing I looked forward to at an otherwise shitty job, who was sometimes the only person I’d see on a regular basis that treated me as if I’m capable of so much as dressing myself, is really gone for good. It was hard on me seeing her family–whom I didn’t know well, but we’d met a few times and were on friendly terms–had to clutch frantically at straws for their peace of mind. And I was bothered a little at how little the service represented who she was.
I don’t know if I was going anywhere with this, but I’ll just say, for want of anything more meaningful–bugger.