Once marked by black dress codes, solemn hymns, and quiet tears, Christian funerals and All Souls’ Day observances are changing. Increasingly, the faithful are turning moments of bereavement into celebrations of life, filled with laughter, gratitude, and storytelling that reflect the joy of a life well lived, rather than mourning the loss of a loved one.
Across the country this week, and more so today, November 2, families brought flowers and candles to cemeteries and church columbaria for the annual commemoration of the faithful departed. But gone are the days when the atmosphere was one of hushed grief. Today, relatives are just as likely to smile as they recall the quirks, anecdotes, and small kindnesses of those they have lost.
“It’s not that we’re less sad,” said parishioner Trinny Anak Jacob from the Church of Sacred Heart in Kota Padawan, Kuching, “but we’ve come to see death differently. We now talk about how the person lived, not just how they died,” she tells Radio Veritas Asia (RVA).
For Catholics, All Souls’ Day, observed on November 2, immediately follows All Saints’ Day and is a time to pray for the departed, an act of mercy rooted in the belief that souls journey toward heaven through the grace of God. The day traditionally involved attending Mass, lighting candles at gravesites, and reciting the rosary at home for deceased family members.
However, over the years, it became evident that a gentler, even more joyful tone often found its way into Christian bereavement.
A Generational and Cultural Shift
Funeral directors and clergy say this shift mirrors a larger generational change. Younger Christians, particularly those exposed to Western or urban influences, see funerals as moments to celebrate a person’s legacy.
“The new generation plans funerals like Thanksgiving services,” said a pastor from a Methodist Church in Kuching. “For the deceased person, it’s more about gratitude than grief.”
At some wakes, even music has found its way into the farewell. On the final night before burial, friends and relatives sometimes hold a karaoke session, singing the deceased’s favourite songs, from Frank Sinatra’s My Way to The Beatles’ I Want to Hold Your Hand.
“It’s not a party,” explained a funeral coordinator. “It’s a way of remembering who they were. Some people loved to sing, so they sing for the deceased one last time. It brings comfort and smiles,” he tells RVA.
Such gatherings blend solemnity with warmth. While candles burn beside the casket, stories and songs ripple through the night air, offering a portrait of the person beyond the obituary.
“You’ll often hear laughter during eulogies now,” Trinny added. “Someone will share a rare anecdote or funny story about the deceased, and before long, the room is filled with gentle laughter.”
At the heart of this evolution is a renewed focus on Christian hope, belief in the resurrection, and eternal life. Many Catholics say this shift toward thanksgiving reflects a deeper understanding of faith.
“We proclaim it every Sunday: I look forward to the resurrection of the dead,” added Trinny, a cradle Catholic. “We truly believe that death is not a full stop. It’s a comma, a pause before eternal life.”
A New Language of Remembrance
The changing tone is also evident in eulogies and obituaries. Once formal and mournful, they now read like affectionate tributes, filled with humour, photographs, and anecdotes.
Recently, at a wake I was present at, something quite unexpected happened. As prayers were murmured and quiet conversations filled the room, someone realised that it was the funeral director’s birthday, and he happened to be a close friend of the deceased. Moments later, a small cake appeared, and before anyone could say more, the familiar strains of “Happy Birthday” rose softly amid the solemn air.
For a moment, non-Christian neighbours, who had come to pay their respects, looked puzzled. A birthday song at a wake? But soon, smiles broke through the confusion. It became one of those rare scenes where grief and a happy moment gently met, a reminder that even in sorrow, life has its way of asserting itself.
Funeral booklets, church slideshows, and even memorial videos reflect this change. Photos of the deceased often show them smiling, surrounded by family, sometimes even in casual wear or with pets, a far cry from the stiff portraits of the past.
“When we played mum’s favourite Teresa Teng song at the wake, the whole hall started singing,” said Trinnie, whose mother died earlier this year. “It felt right, like she was there. That’s how she’d want to be remembered.”
Local Colour and Community
In East Malaysia, particularly among Dayak and Kadazan-Dusun Catholics, All Souls’ Day remains a deeply communal affair. Families gather at graveyards to clean tombstones, plant flowers, and share food. It’s part prayer, part reunion, blending faith and indigenous custom.
“We believe the souls of our ancestors are close on this day,” said Maria Lajang from Bau, Sarawak. “We pray, we eat, we laugh. It’s communion, the living and the dead together.”
Even in quaint rural cemeteries, in Sarawak’s Kampong Quop, this sense of togetherness endures. At this iconic cemetery of 160 years, families light candles and place chrysanthemums on graves, transforming the grounds into a flickering sea of remembrance by nightfall.
“It’s beautiful, not sad,” says 13-year-old Areanna Camella Rose Ong as she spruces up her grandfather’s gravesite. “It feels like a reunion every year,” she smiles.
Looking Ahead
Church leaders say this trend is likely to stay, though they stress the need to keep its spiritual essence intact.
A celebration of life should always be rooted in reverence. All Souls’ Day is, after all, about praying for the departed so that they may rest in peace. Yet it can also include gentle, light-hearted moments rather than be shrouded in gloom.
For many Malaysian Christians, that balance, of tears and laughter, mourning and thanksgiving, captures the living faith of their community.
As candles flicker across cemeteries today, families will pray for their loved ones, just as generations before them have done. Yet they will also sing, smile, and share stories, quiet reminders that, in faith, death no longer has the final word.
This, in essence, is the mystery of the “Communion of Saints” proclaimed in the Apostles’ Creed, the living and the departed bound together in love, hope, and unbroken faith.
