Dr. Lester CN Simon offers a sharp, satirical reflection on the performative dishonesty that plagues modern funeral customs, arguing that every person deserves to die two deaths: the first to witness what people really say about them after their passing, and the second to be laid to rest for good.
Can you picture slipping out of your coffin minutes into your own funeral, walking out of the church reeling from the things you just heard? There are the false eulogies, the theatrical weeping, the forced gnashing of teeth—even from the person whose poor oral hygiene you’d give anything to have their flood of fake tears wash clean. In the hours immediately after news of your death spreads, these same people who spent your life begrudging you, scheming against you, and torturing your peace stand up to declare how they hope your soul rests in peace. These are the same bad-hearted, greedy individuals who made your life miserable when you were alive. Most do not even bother to wonder what becomes of a soul after death, whether it lingers near the body for days before transitioning to its new ethereal form. It is clear they are simply glad you are gone. Their hollow condolences and generic cries of “rest in peace” ring completely false—Simon notes it is a blessing restless spirits (called jumbies in Caribbean folklore) cannot speak ill of the living, or there would be no end to the complaints.
It is little wonder, Simon argues, that so many restless spirits wander the world today, secretly distracting drivers and passersby, hoping the hypocrites that spoke lies over their graves will soon join their ranks, and end up resting far away from them in a completely different graveyard. That said, he acknowledges there is almost always at least one honest person in attendance, for which we ought to give thanks. The best of these honest mourners are those who can tell the truth about the departed with wit and personality, painting an accurate picture of who the person really was, to the shock of many other guests.
Simon illustrates the absurdity of these customs with a quick, humorous anecdote: a bald Rastaman who traveled to the American frontier, stepped into a saloon thirsty, and politely greeted the entire room by shouting “Jah!”—only to die before he could finish his greeting of “Jah Rastafari.” All that was left to say was the mandatory “may his soul rest in peace.”
This long-standing cultural tradition of funeral behavior, Simon argues, is long overdue for close examination. In recent decades, the ritual has shifted from a somber dirge to a celebration of the departed’s life, which is the right direction—after all, funerals are for the living, not the dead. The departed cannot hear the kind words spoken over their casket, cannot smell the fancy bouquets, and certainly cannot see the fancy new clothes and expensive perfume people wear to show off at the service, or the body parts people expose that the deceased never even got to see when they were alive, despite all the empty promises made to see them. Simon quips that would-be attention-seekers might as well try to raise the dead at that point, echoing a line from the late calypsonian Lord Kitchener.
This idea of dying twice is not just abstract: Simon points to the iconic Caribbean calypsonian The Mighty Sparrow, known as the Barb of the Caribbean, who was falsely announced dead multiple times before his actual passing. He even imagined Sparrow standing in a corner listening to his own false death announcement, watching his pre-funeral broadcast on television, which now streams across the world wide web as just another viral cascade of lies.
Instead of the hollow performativity common at modern funerals, Simon lays out a better, more honest vision: services should center the music the departed actually loved and wanted to share with the people they left behind. He lists a range of iconic tracks from across jazz and classical genres, from John Coltrane’s *A Love Supreme* and Miles Davis’ *So What* to Ornette Coleman’s *Lonely Woman* and the Adagietto from Gustav Mahler’s Fifth Symphony, arguing that this personalization makes the service far more meaningful than generic speeches. After the congregation sings the traditional Nunc Dimittis, mourners should process out of the church to the sound of an iron band, and the departed should be laid to rest to the melodious notes of a steelpan band.
Even with all these changes, Simon acknowledges that old habits die hard: after the burial, guests will pile into the repast, drink all the liquor and eat all the food paid for by the deceased’s hard-earned savings, and spend the whole time gossiping and spreading lies about the person who died. Occasionally, someone will pause and question the chaos, wondering out loud if this is really how we should honor a person’s life. They may even note that the deceased would be justified in rising from the dead three days after burial to see how guests are carrying on. At that point, when confronted with the absurdity of it all, there is only one thing left to say: Jesus.
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