Death IS NOT Nothing at All
Words used in a Communion Service at the National Funerals Exhibition – June 2026
Those of us who have the privilege of being asked to tend the dead and enable the grief of the bereaved see death and the life after life in a different way from those entrusted to our care. When we answer this vocation well we ease the journey and turn the death of a loved one into a resurrection for the bereaved.
Sometimes, because we are so used to this journey, we can unconsciously say and use words which to us appear kind and caring but to those in the first rush and onslaught of grief may appear callous. That does not mean we should not use them but we should be careful how we use them. Always being aware that what words mean to us does not always carry the same meaning to those entrusted to our care.
In the following piece Sally Thomas unpacks how our heartfelt words may, if we are not careful, be perceived as heartless…
oooOOOooo
Voice One: Death is nothing at all.
Voice Two: Oh yes it is!
Voice One: I have only slipped away into the next room.
Voice Two: You’re dead!
Voice One: I am I, and you are you.
Voice Two: What on earth does that mean?
Voice One: Whatever we were to each other, that we still are.
Voice Two: But I can’t hold you, touch you, hear you, feel your warmth.
Voice One: Call me by my old familiar name,
Voice Two: That’s who you’ll always be to me.
Voice One: speak to me in the easy way which you always used.
Voice Two: But you’ll never answer me again.
Voice One: Put no difference in your tone,
Voice Two: But I’m heartbroken.
Voice One: wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.
Voice Two: Are you suggesting I shouldn’t feel sorrowful?
Voice One: Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes we enjoyed together.
Voice Two: I’m beginning to feel angry now!
Voice One: Let my name be ever the household word that it always was,
Voice Two: Domestic comparisons don’t work.
Voice One: Let it be spoken without effect, without the trace of a shadow on it.
Voice Two: One day, but now is too soon.
Voice One: Life means all that it ever meant.
Voice Two: Life will never feel the same again.
Voice One: It is the same as it ever was;
Voice Two: It isn’t; it can’t be.
Voice One: there is unbroken continuity.
Voice Two: That can’t change how I’m feeling now.
Voice One: Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight?
Voice Two: You’ll never be out of mind.
Voice One: I am waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just round the corner.
Voice Two: You haven’t just popped out to the shop!
Voice One: All is well.
Voice Two: Right now, nothing is well.
Based on a reflection by Bishop Henry Scott Holland, 1847-1918, Canon St Paul’s Cathedral.
As we will all be aware, death isn’t ‘nothing at all’.
Whether death comes as a welcome friend after a long decline or suddenly and tragically; whether death is timely or untimely; however we encounter death, it is of profound significance to those who grieve. Life will not be, cannot be as it was.
This may sound like an odd introduction to a Eucharist but rituals matter; they ground us; give us a sense of safety and belonging. What we share here in this ritual of sharing bread and wine reminds us that nothing in life or death can ever separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Saviour.
And so we gather here because Jesus invites us. Now, this is his table, his invitation, his life, death and resurrection we acknowledge and participate in.
© Sally Massey Thomas 2026
Suffolk Vicar 