We need to remember those people the Duke of Edinburgh has left behind

WHEN discussing with family a funeral I shall be conducting, people often say, “We would like it to be a time of joy and happiness – for people to wear bright colours and for it to be a happy occasion”. I understand their desire for the life that has gone to be celebrated, but I have to remind people that most who attend the service will be grieving, and that needs to recognised.

I am convinced that funeral services are as much for the living as the deceased. It is a time and space for us to acknowledge the pain and hurt of what has been lost and to recognise that, for all the good memories, things have changed irrevocably.

This last week we have learned more about Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh, than many thought we could ever need to know. His life of military and public service, his involvement in the support of the institution of monarchy and much more have all been recounted in recent days. But this afternoon I believe we need to remember those left behind: not a Queen but a wife; not princes and princesses, but children, grandchildren and great grandchildren. Some may regret that, because of Covid restrictions and the Duke’s personal wishes, this is not the state funeral the nation expected. But there is something appropriate in allowing a family, even the most important family in the nation, time to come together to grieve, reflect, remember and give thanks.

This does not mean that the rest of the nation need feel excluded at this time. We are able to pray that his family will know comfort and strength, not only from each other, but from the gracious love of God who, in Christ, has promised to be with us always.

Some of us, I know, will reflect on our personal losses, recent and many years in the past, that still bring us pain and sadness. May Prince Philip’s family, and we too, trust in God’s promise in the book of Psalms: My comfort in my suffering is this. Your promise preserves my life.

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