Every so often I come across a piece of writing that resonates so strongly with me I can’t keep it to myself. This morning it was a post by writer and humanist chaplain Jim Palmer . If you haven’t come across him before, Jim spent many years inside evangelical Christianity before eventually stepping away from organised religion altogether. Much of his writing explores what it means to live ethically, courageously, and compassionately without relying on religious frameworks -

This is what depth looks like: real joy, real people, right at the heart of it all. I’ve heard it more than once—mostly (but not always) politely, often with a slightly furrowed brow and a concerned tone: “Don’t you think a non-religious ceremony can feel a bit… you know… shallow?” And I get it. Especially if you’ve only ever experienced ceremonies that follow a set religious structure, with age-old words and a firm sense of who’s in charge (usually someone in robes with a mi

One of the most rewarding things about conducting a funeral ceremony is finding the words that make people say, “Yes! That’s her. That’s exactly her.” Now, I won’t pretend that’s always easy. There are all sorts of challenges that can get in the way of At a crematorium, time can be tight. And even when there’s no clock glaring at you, it’s hard for families to pin down the right words. You’re exhausted, blindsided by grief, and the doorbell keeps going with well-meaning visi