07/29/2026
You may have read the Diocese of Springfield is banning eulogies from funeral mass. This may help to explain the reasoning behind that decision.
A Catholic funeral is not supposed to be a celebration of somebody’s life in the modern, sentimental sense of the word. It is not a Catholic version of a graduation ceremony, a family reunion, or a public celebration where everyone gathers together to tell funny stories about the deceased and remind one another how wonderful he was. The Catholic funeral is something far more serious than that. It is the final sacred rite that the Church gives to a person here on earth. It is the Church standing beside the body of the dead and reminding everyone present of the one reality that modern man desperately tries to avoid: death is real. And one day, whether we like it or not, whether we are young or old, healthy or sick, rich or poor, we will be lying in a coffin just as the person before us is lying in that coffin. We will die. And after death, we will stand before God face to face. We will present ourselves before our Creator, and we will be judged.
That is not a sentimental thought. It is a terrifying thought. And yes, a Catholic funeral is supposed to confront us with that reality. The modern world does not like death. We hide it. We sanitize it. We avoid speaking about it. We put the dead in expensive clothing, place flowers around the coffin, tell amusing stories, and then try to make the entire occasion as emotionally comfortable as possible. But the Catholic Church has never treated death as something that needs to be covered up with sentimental language. Death is the consequence of sin. It is the separation of the soul from the body. It is the moment when the time for meriting has ended and the soul stands before the judgment seat of God. That is why the traditional Catholic funeral is so sober. That is why there is mourning. That is why there is black. That is why the liturgy is filled with supplication and fear of God. The Church is not trying to entertain us. She is trying to save us.
And this is precisely why the funeral Mass should not be primarily focused on the happy memories of the deceased. Of course, a person may have lived a beautiful life. Of course, we may have loved him. Of course, we may have wonderful memories of him. But the funeral Mass is not principally about our memories. It is about the soul of the deceased standing before the judgment of God. The Mass is the Holy Sacrifice of Christ offered for the dead. We are not gathered merely to say, “Look at how wonderful this person was.” We are gathered to pray: “Lord, have mercy upon this soul.” That is the difference between a Catholic funeral and the modern celebration-of-life mentality. The Catholic funeral does not presume that the deceased is already in Heaven simply because we loved him. The Catholic Church does not canonize our relatives merely because they were good people, kind people, funny people, generous people, or beloved people. We do not know with absolute certainty where the soul of the deceased is. We hope. We trust in the mercy of God. We commend the soul to God. And we pray for that soul.
That is why the traditional Requiem Mass is so powerful. The entire liturgy is oriented toward the dead and toward the mercy of God. In the old Roman Rite, the Requiem Mass does not end with the priest giving the congregation a final blessing as though the principal purpose of the liturgy were to send the living home feeling spiritually comforted. Instead, the focus remains on the soul of the deceased. The Church continues to plead before God for mercy. The dead person is the one who needs our prayers. The living congregation can go home and pray for itself later. The soul of the deceased is the one standing before the judgment of God.
Even the music of the traditional Requiem reflects this terrifying reality. Consider the Dies Irae: the Day of Wrath. The text does not sound like a modern celebration of life. It speaks of the day when the heavens and the earth will be shaken, when the dead will rise, when the Judge will come to judge the living and the dead. It asks the terrifying question: what will I, a miserable sinner, say? Where will I flee when the just Judge appears? This is not the language of sentimental optimism. This is the language of reality. And that is precisely why it is Catholic. The Church does not use the funeral to distract us from death. She uses the funeral to force us to confront death—and then to turn toward Christ, the only one who can save us from death.
This is also why Catholics should seriously reconsider the practice of replacing black with white at funerals. Now, immediately, someone will say, “But white represents the Resurrection!” Yes, white can certainly have theological associations with the Resurrection. But the question is not simply, “Can white ever symbolize the Resurrection?” Of course it can. The question is: what is the proper Catholic expression of mourning at a funeral? What is the liturgical language of the Church when we are burying the dead? And traditionally, the answer has been black. The priest wears black. The altar and the liturgical atmosphere are marked by mourning. The congregation mourns. Why? Because someone has died. Someone has gone before the judgment seat of God. Someone’s soul is being commended to the mercy of God.
The modern tendency to wear white at funerals often reflects something deeper than merely a change in colour. It reflects the modern desire to transform the funeral into a celebration of the person’s earthly life. “Do not mourn,” people say. “Do not be sad. Let us celebrate.” But why should we be ashamed of mourning? Our Lord Jesus Christ Himself wept at the tomb of Lazarus. Death is not something that Christians pretend is pleasant. Death is an enemy. It is the last enemy to be destroyed. The fact that Christ can conquer death does not mean that death itself is not tragic. The fact that we hope in the Resurrection does not mean that we stop mourning the dead.
And here is where Catholics must be careful about allowing non-Catholic customs to determine Catholic worship. The practice of wearing white as a colour of mourning is associated in many cultures, including Chinese culture, with mourning and death. But the Catholic Church has her own liturgical tradition. We do not simply import the customs of another religion or culture and then assume that those customs automatically become Catholic because Catholics begin using them. Catholicism is not an empty container into which every cultural practice can be poured. The Church sanctifies legitimate cultures, but she also possesses her own sacred language, her own liturgical traditions, and her own manner of expressing mourning. Black has traditionally expressed sorrow, death, mourning, and the need for prayers for the dead. That is why the priest wears black at a traditional funeral Mass. And if the priest is dressed in black because he is mourning the dead and pleading for the soul’s repose, why should the congregation act as though the occasion is a party?
This is also why the eulogy is so problematic when it takes over the funeral Mass. The Catholic funeral Mass is not the place for a lengthy speech celebrating the personality, accomplishments, hobbies, and happy memories of the deceased. The Mass is not a stage for the family to give a biography of the dead. The Mass is the Holy Sacrifice of Christ. The purpose of the liturgy is not to praise the deceased before the congregation. The purpose is to worship God and to pray for the soul of the deceased. A eulogy may contain true things. It may contain beautiful memories. It may even be appropriate in a different setting. But when the eulogy replaces the solemnity of the Catholic funeral, when the Mass becomes centred on the life of the deceased rather than the sacrifice of Christ and the need for mercy, something has gone seriously wrong.
Because here is the uncomfortable truth: we do not gather at a Catholic funeral because we know with certainty that the deceased no longer needs prayers. We gather precisely because the deceased does need prayers. We do not know the state of the soul. We do not presume to know the judgment of God. The Catholic response is therefore not, “We know he is already in Heaven, so let us celebrate.” The Catholic response is, “Lord, have mercy upon him. Forgive his sins. Receive his soul. Grant him eternal rest.” That is the Catholic attitude toward death.
And this is why a traditional Catholic funeral can feel uncomfortable. It is supposed to. It reminds us that one day the body in the coffin will not belong to someone else. It will be ours. One day we will hear the prayers of the Church being offered over our own bodies. One day our family and friends will gather around us. But after that, the question will no longer be whether we had a successful career, whether we owned a beautiful house, whether people thought we were funny, or whether we lived a life that others considered impressive. The question will be: what did we do with the grace of God? Did we live and die in friendship with Christ? Did we repent of our sins? Did we persevere in the Catholic Faith? Are we ready to stand before the Judge?
That is why the Catholic funeral is not primarily a celebration of life. It is a reminder of death, judgment, Heaven, and Hell. It is a reminder that the soul is immortal and that eternity is real. It is a reminder that the dead cannot help themselves anymore. They cannot go to Confession. They cannot make acts of penance. They cannot earn merit. The time for that has ended. But we, the living, can still pray for them. We can offer the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass for them. We can offer sacrifices for them. We can plead with God for mercy upon their souls.
So when the Church gives us the traditional Requiem Mass, with its black vestments, its solemn prayers, its mournful music, its Dies Irae, and its intense focus on the mercy of God, she is not being morbid. She is being Catholic. She is telling us the truth. Death is real. Judgment is real. Eternity is real. And the most charitable thing we can do for the dead is not merely to tell stories about how much we loved them. It is to pray for them. The most charitable thing we can do for ourselves is not to pretend that death is merely a celebration of a life that has ended. It is to look at death directly, to remember that we too will die, and to ask ourselves the question that every Catholic must eventually answer: when I stand before Almighty God, will I be ready?
