Tag Archives: Humanist Celebrant

Disaffection with HAI aired in Newstalk interview

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IN an interview with Andrea Gilligan on Lunchtime Live on Newstalk, Wednesday 23 March, 2022, I aired my personal disaffection with the Humanist Association of Ireland.

No Church has a monopoly on Christian weddings

I said: ‘Just as, for example, within the Christian community, there are loads of different churches and denominations, and the Catholic Church isn’t going to say no the Lutheran Church can’t do a legal wedding and Baptists can’t do a legal wedding. It would be outrageous.’

No Humanist body should have a monopoly on Humanist weddings

‘And in the same way the Humanists should also welcome other Humanist groups to have the same legal authority to legalize weddings.’

‘They shouldn’t seek to have it as a monopoly for themselves because that would be really against the values of equality and inclusiveness and reason.’

‘It should be an open thing. More groups should be allowed to do it.’

‘It shouldn’t be something that’s a monopoly of the Humanist Association of Ireland. And it would be a shame for Humanism if they were to grasp and hold on to that for themselves.’

The General Register Office should recognize other Humanist bodies, since the rich tradition of Humanism stretches over continents, cultures and millennia and cannot be the exclusive right of just one registered company in Ireland.

If and when the GRO recognizes other Humanist bodies, as I hope they will, it will be good not only for Humanism but also for the Humanist Association of Ireland.

Difficulties with direction of HAI

Interviewer Andrea Gilligan asked: ‘How is business, Joe, for you?’

I said: ‘To be honest, Andrea, I’m kind of on my way out of ceremonies.’

‘I’ve been doing it a long time. I was nine years studying for the priesthood (and as long as a Humanist celebrant) and the longer you’re at it, you see different things.’

‘I feel it’s gone too commercial’

‘So, to be honest with you, I would have difficulties with the direction being taken by the Humanist Association of Ireland. I feel it’s gone too commercial.’

‘For example, if I were do a free ceremony – every so often I would do a free ceremony – and the HAI want their cut. And I just think that’s ridiculous.’

Need for other GRO-approved Humanist bodies

‘So I feel increasingly uncomfortable within the Humanist Association of Ireland, which is why I would like there to be other Humanist bodies which were authorized by the General Register Office to conduct legal marriages.’

Trust your Doubt

Speaking of my indoctrination into religion from childhood, I said that I wished that someone had said to me to ‘Trust your doubt’.

Doubt is the beginning of wisdom, not faith in an imaginary god.

The Gratitude Attitude

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The Gratitude Attitude

The gratitude attitude changes lives. It helps us to live in this present moment. This ‘imperfect’ moment. Imperfect is all we’ll ever have. Perfection is an illusion. It crushes us.

Gratitude attitude changes lives. This present ‘imperfect’ moment is perfect!

Gratitude is the opposite. It helps us ease past our illusions about perfection. We become attuned to here and now. We have, in this moment, more things to be grateful for than we could count or imagine. A day will come when we would love to have all that we have and are now.

Listen.

I listen to birds cooing outside my window. I breathe – now there’s a thing that won’t always be the case. I am aware. That too will pass. I can type and read and listen. There’s the clock ticking. The sound of the keyboard as I type. Pigeons sound again outside. Now I hear my breathing.

Humanist celebrant

Today I marry a couple. What a wonderful way to earn a living. Each couple is different. Each ceremony is different. Each gathering of guests is different.

People enquire about my services and book me. We plan their ceremonies together. Hours are put in. Fifteen to 20 hours per ceremony of planning and action. It’s not a way to get rich financially but I can’t imagine a more personally satisfying profession for me: I love it.

Voice

It uses those nine years I spent in a seminary – though now, happily, without the magical thinking that I could no longer believe in. I tap into the skills I learned as a teacher – handling a crowd, responding to whatever arises, speaking. Someone told me in the last week – a guest – that someone sitting beside them had said they could listen to my voice all day. A voice for radio. And yes, I’m grateful, I do like my voice. Yet another thing that I mightn’t even think about that I’m grateful for.

Sight

Eyes, without which I could not type this nor drive to venues nor to meeting couples. My age: yes, in my mid-50s I love my age. Young enough still, luckily, to be healthy of mind, body and emotion. Mature enough to have seen quite a bit of life and having a certain wisdom mostly learned that hard way – by suffering and mistakes made.

‘Joe the Human’

Humanity. What a gift is that! A friend used to call me ‘Joe the Human’. I was very proud of that nickname. And that many years before I’d even heard of Humanism, let alone joined the Humanist Association of Ireland.

Gratitude. Yes, it is part of our nature and a good thing to strive for things. But it’s also important to pause and rest and be enveloped by the joy and fullness of each moment and for so much that we are and have.

To ask me to conduct your ceremony, click here

For more on the gratitude attitude, click here

 

Humanist weddings by conviction

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One of the difficulties with the word ‘Humanist’ is that lots of people can claim that they are Humanist. I remember attending a funeral once and the celebrant  was ‘Humanist’ if the bereaved wanted a non-religious ceremony and he was religious if the bereaved wanted a religious ceremony. He was just an actor: all things to all men and women. He was whatever you wanted him to be. You want religion? He gave you religion. You want secular? He gave you secular.

I am Humanist by conviction. It is my philosophical stance. I do not believe in any god or deity or supernatural power.

This is our one and only life. Let us try to live it well. Let us be guided by reason and compassion. Let us be inclusive. And let us be true to ourselves.

 

 

 

Wedding celebrant / Humanist celebrant

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There is some confusion as to what is a Humanist celebrant. Recently a bride asked me if I was available to conduct her Humanist ceremony. Luckily, I was. They had booked someone else whom they thought was a Humanist celebrant but when they went to the HSE to give their three-month notification of their intention to marry (which everyone has to do) they discovered that their celebrant actually conducted religious ceremonies.

Humanist celebrants offer non-religious ceremonies. If they are accredited by the Humanist Association of Ireland (HAI) and the General Register Office (GRO) they can conduct legal non-religious weddings.

If you want a legally binding and legally recognized Humanist wedding ceremony be sure that your celebrant is accredited by both the Humanist Association of Ireland and the General Register Office (GRO).

Remembering

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I spoke as a Humanist celebrant and chaplain at a commemoration event today for people who lost loved ones during the year. It is good to take time out to remember the deceased. People who have shaped us for the good; enriched our lives with their love and acceptance and wisdom and joy and affection. Those whose perspectives challenged us to grow and become more ourselves. Characters who etched themselves on the very stuff of our being. People we loved.

Humanist musings

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I’m loving being a Humanist celebrant. There’s something wonderful about it for me, doing something I love, something that has meaning, something I’m good at, something that each day, for each ceremony, for each couple or family or individual, is different.

It helps me to live in the here and now. Celebrating this particular couple’s marriage, or this unique family’s new baby, or this distinctive person’s life.

It’s working and living in the real. It’s inclusive of everyone. Being with people crying with joy – what a privilege that is! Crafting ceremonies appropriate to each couple or family or person. And then from planning to execution, celebrating the moment, conducting the words and the readings and the music and the rituals. Yes, living in the now.

Humanists ask questions. That is where we start. We never shy, or should never shy, from asking our questions. We endeavour to think for ourselves, trying never to let others think for us. We choose. We decide. We act. We create. We are responsible. That’s what we try to do anyway. Fail, of course; and probably often. But we keep trying, keep asking.

The couple whose wedding I conducted today chose wonderful readings. Stimulating. Different. Thoughtful. Reflective. Moving. Dramatic. There were lots of moist eyes in the room. The hairs were standing on the back of my neck during one of the readings, the poem ‘It Is Here’ by Harold Pinter, which ends:

What did we hear?

It was the breath we took when we first met.

Listen. It is here.

Denis Green, Marist priest, RIP

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DenisGlendalough A man whom I loved, Denis Green, Marist priest, died on Wednesday night 6 October 2015. He will be buried today. He was the priest whose distinctive, lovely voice forms the backbone of my RTE Radio One Documentary, From Belief to Unbelief. He was with me when my father died in 1981. He helped me break the psychological umbilical cord with my mother. Aged 94, he was, to the end, the youngest man I have ever known. He was open. He was himself. He was engaging. He was genuinely interested in people and ideas and books. He was devout. He was, every inch of him, an actor. From the first moment he lectured us in novitiate back in 1980 he stood before us as one who might have leaped from a Shakespearean stage. He loved life. He loved people.

He was one of the worst singers known to human history, but that never stopped him singing! A memory: some 40 seminarians doubled over with uncontrollable laughter in the chapel at Mount St  Mary’s, Milltown, as Denis attempted with abject ineptitude to sing the Eucharistic Prayer.

His infamy as a singer was very closely matched by his reputation as a driver. On one occasion after I was astonished still to be alive I felt something needed to be said.

‘Did anyone ever tell you you’re a good driver, Denis?’

‘No,’ he replied, ‘I don’t believe anyone ever did.’

‘Think about it.’

And he was the kind of guy you could say something like that to – i.e., be entirely honest with – and nothing would harm the relationship.

He told me years ago that he wanted ‘How Great Thou Art’ sung at his funeral. Yesterday, before his coffin was brought from the chapel at Mount St Mary’s – the same chapel in which his gorgeous voice reverberates in my documentary – I told the congregation gathered there that Denis had told me that he wanted it sung at his funeral. And I, atheist and Humanist celebrant, appealed to those present to sing it with gusto and I led the singing and everyone joined in and we did him proud. The place came alive again, Denis’s final farewell to Mount St Mary’s.

Born on 11 June, 1921, in Clontarf, Dublin, he was a pupil at Catholic University School (CUS), Leeson Street, and he worked there as a chaplain until very recently. CUS is closed today as a mark of respect to him. He entered the Marist novitiate in 1940 and was ordained on 23 March 1947. In 1952 he was offered a place at the Sorbonne but he accepted a place in Cambridge! He worked in England from 1955 to 1975, as a teacher, headmaster and as Provincial of the then English Province of the Society of Mary (Marist Fathers). He came back to Ireland in 1975 and he was one of four priests in charge of us in my novitiate 1980-1981. He also taught at Chanel College, Coolock;  was associated with the Glencree Centre for Reconciliation in Wicklow; with St Killian’s German School, Dublin; and he was for a while Secretary General of the Marist Fathers in Rome.

Denis, I loved you. You were a human being! You lived a good life! You were open and thoughtful, creative and caring, affectionate and loving. Goodbye my friend.


I feel like the luckiest man alive

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When I was in my teens and an ardent believer and I wanted to be a priest, one of my good reasons for wanting to be a priest was to be with people at key moments in their lives – like birth, weddings and bereavement. I wanted to engage with the real needs of people.
After my nine years in religious life, when I walked away from not only my priestly path but, in time, from all religious beliefs, I assumed that gone was my dream of being with people at core turning points in their lives.
I spent five years as a teacher. And I was privileged to work at St Bonaventure’s comprehensive boys’ school at the heart of the East End of London, under the leadership of the now knighted Sir Michael Wilshaw, who was subsequently made head of the English schools’ inspectorate, OFSTED.
But I knew that remaining a teacher for the rest of my life wasn’t what I wanted to do, and so I left teaching after five years.
For the guts of the next 20 years I worked as a journalist, columnist and author, in a self-employed capacity, enjoying being my own boss and working from home. I spent the guts of three years during that time as a publisher too. And then I took time out to delve into my own story, how I shifted from belief to unbelief and I celebrated that story, or part of it, in my RTE Radio 1 documentary, From Belief to Unbeleif, and in an as yet unpublished manuscript of a memoir.
And then, earlier this year, I thought about becoming a Humanist celebrant. And that is why I feel like the luckiest man on earth. If, as a teenager, I wanted to be with people at key turning points in their lives, helping them to express sorrow and joy, laughter and tears, I have discovered that I can do that as a Humanist celebrant. And I could do so without having to pretend I believed in religious fantasies that lost any claim on my allegiance, acceptance or intelligence.
As a humanist celebrant there is no nonsense about ‘ontological change’ happening at ordination. I’m a regular human being just like everyone else. And I don’t have to pretend to have the ear of a deity! Or to know his will! Or to interpret his ‘revealed word’ accurately. I’ve outgrown all that nonsense. All that superstition. I know that we have only one life and that it can be a wonderful life, and that the birth of each child warrants celebration. And that the marriage of two people is usually a happy time, and that it’s OK for people to be sad at weddings too. And I have been privileged to facilitate funerals – celebrations of a life ended, at which I have witnessed laughter and tears, joy and sadness, classical music and hard rock!
Now in my fifties, I realize that being a Humanist celebrant uses the skills and talents I’ve been lucky enough to have: my original desire to be with people at key moments of their lives; my writing skills in drafting ceremonies that are meaningful and personal for the people concerned; my teaching skills of speaking and engaging with a group of people; my empathy and compassion and listening skills; and my gratitude for being able to do this work which I love.

Humanist Celebrant – Joe Armstrong

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I am very happy to say that I have been accredited as a Humanist Celebrant by the Humanist Association of Ireland. It’s like an aspect of my life coming full circle – having trained for the Catholic priesthood, spent nine years in religious life, left, stopped believing in God, given up on the idea of being with people at key moments in their lives like births, marriages and deaths, and now, unexpectedly, finding myself able again, with integrity, to celebrate these turning points in people’s lives again.

When I was moving beyond religious faith but still attending religious ceremonies I often used to try to deconstruct the religious content and language of baptisms, weddings and funerals. I tried to translate them in my head, quietly and privately, so that the ceremonies could mean something to me. What was the essential human meaning behind the tissue of myth of religion? There was essential meaning there and I sensed that it was a pity that it should be clouded by religious ritual, language and daft beliefs. I wondered if they could be stripped of the nonsense and if we could just celebrate the human moments they signified: a new life born to us! a new loving union of two people committing their lives to each other publicly! a life ended, that life celebrated and mourned in equal measure, and without the unnecessary facade of an afterlife.

I conducted my first funeral last Friday. I feel that Humanist funerals do great justice to a live well lived. A person attending a Humanist funeral who did not know the deceased will have a good sense of what that person was like by the end of the ceremony. After a whole life well lived, surely it’s the least we can do, to honour someone who has died. And to remember the deceased. And it’s such a relief to be able to do that without nonsensical talk of ‘sin’ or an ‘afterlife’. Death is the most natural thing. All living things and beings die. Nothing and nobody lasts forever. And so when we die let’s be adult enough to see death as the end but to recognize that we loved the person who died and wish to honour their life and their passing.

I very much look forward to conducting naming ceremonies for families and couples welcoming new life into their midst. It is important to celebrate new birth, a new life, a new name, a new individual. It is a time of joy and wonder, a time of celebration and delight. And we can welcome new human beings without having to believe in nonsensical beliefs, such as that a baby is born in ‘original sin’. What nonsense! But let not our distaste for old mythologies discourage us from having a naming or welcoming ceremony because ceremonies are important. They are key moments in our lives.

And, yes, let is celebrate marriages. Courageous couples who publicly commit their love to one another. Love is what it’s all about, as we know. And so it’s important to celebrate love publicly and not only privately. The community gathers to acknowledge and support a new couple in their love for one another, and to publicly mark the love between two people which manifests in a new public commitment. Even in Catholic theology, the groom administers the sacrament to the bride and the bride administers it to the groom. They are the ministers of the sacrament. The priest is only there as a witness. Likewise, in Humanist ceremonies, the bride and groom marry each other and everyone else is there as a privileged witness of the loving commitment made by the couple.

Love needs support. Marriage needs support. Couples need to know that love is indeed the way, and that love can and does survive. That love is a beacon in what can at times be the stormy seas of life. And that love is worth it. Money, success, power, pleasure, health…all these things will end. But love survives.

What a privilege to be able to conduct weddings, naming ceremonies and funerals! It is an honour to be with people at such moments, at such turning points in their lives. Each is a threshold through which lives pass, changing almost everything. Each is a human moment, a singular moment, unique to that person, that couple, that family; and yet also shared by all humanity.

I look forward to helping couples and families and loved ones to craft and create ceremonies that are unique to them at key moments of their lives.

For more about Humanist Ceremonies, see Humanist Association of Ireland