Article de Standaard

Shrouds in Belgium

'Yesterday, on All Saints' Day, Griet's father's ashes were scattered. In his garden in Bruges, as he wanted. It was in that garden that the farewell ceremony for her father took place. He also wanted to be laid out at home, not in a mortuary – that also happened. And, importantly, he wanted a shroud, not a coffin. 'My father was 62 when he died, he was ill and he decided for himself how the farewell would go', says Griet. 'He did not see death as something that had to be hidden away, but as something that was part of life. “If we have to die anyway, let's make it acceptable”, he said. For him, it had to be a real rite of passage that was less abrupt than a traditional funeral, and in which the grandchildren were also involved. The philosophy behind such a shroud is that you cover the deceased with a little more dust every day. Every day, grandpa would be a little more gone.'

Exceptions

Griet's father is – for the time being – one of the exceptions. It is not something you see every day, a deceased person in a shroud, wrapped in a large piece of cloth. At least not in our culture. Or better: not in our culture anymore. If you say the word shrouds today, the person you are talking to almost automatically says 'ah yes, the one from Turin', after the cloths in which Jesus was supposedly wrapped and laid out. In India, it is very common among Hindus, and it is also part of the tradition among Muslims. In the United States, for example, such a shroud has become more common at green funerals. Just think of Nate Fisher, the main character in the television series Six Feet Under, who wanted to be buried in such a shroud. And that episode is at least ten years old.

Funeral company Doodgewoon Belgium

'Certainly, if you choose a linen fabric, you can still really see the silhouette. That thought is often frightening in advance, but afterwards people are glad that they experienced it.' Incidentally, the practice was prohibited in our country for a long time. It was only in 2004, with the funeral decree, that this changed. With this, the legislator responded to the rituals of the Muslim community. A Muslim is traditionally buried in a shroud, and if that was not possible here, they had no choice but to have their deceased repatriated. With the decree of 2004, that was no longer necessary. Greet Chielens of the alternative funeral company Doodgewoon swears by home burials, precisely because it makes the transition between death and farewell a little milder. The use of the shroud fits in with that. But for her, the shroud of Griet's father was the first. She admits that it caused some stress. 'We practiced how to fold the fabric at home, my husband and I.' Griet was also stressed when she heard her father's wish. 'We weren't in favor of it at first. My father was always "someone special" and that he wanted this, we thought, was "to do something special".' But that feeling changed: 'Because he was going to be cremated, there had to be a plank under the body by law. He had already ordered one in advance from a friend, who would make it himself. Such a plank must have a slightly raised edge at the foot end. That's why it looked a bit like a boat. My father was a traveler. He had also been to Compostela by bike. When he lay there, in that shroud, on the plank, on his boat, it was like a pilgrim who was going to make his last journey. It was right.' 'We were nervous about the wrapping itself. Because no one here had any experience with it, we didn't do it the way it should be done, so not a little bit every day, but everything on the last day. My brother and I, three of my father's sisters and a good friend. It was intense. We laid him in that shroud and watched him disappear fold by fold. We started with the cloth patches at his feet, until at the end only his face was free. At that moment, that image of the pilgrim was very strong. We covered his face and carried him to the car, all together. That was very human. The car took him to the crematorium.' 'We held the farewell ceremony around the urn. Personally, I think it is still a step too far to hold such a ceremony in a wider circle around a shroud. It seems to me too explicit for outsiders who have not experienced the entire process up close.'

Wikkelgoed in the Standard (Belgium)

When it rains in America, it drizzles in the Netherlands, and it drips in Belgium. This is how it goes with many other phenomena. Also with the shroud. The Dutch thirty-something Robbe Wijnands grew up among the shrouds, in his mother's company. She founded Wikkelgoed fifteen years ago. At the time, it was one of the first companies to sell shrouds. In the meantime, they have a lot of competition. 'It has really taken off in the last two or three years, and I am gradually noticing interest from Flanders as well', he says. 'It still remains a very small percentage of all funerals. We now sell about twenty to thirty per month, but the demand is growing.' It fits in with a zeitgeist in which more and more people are aware that we are alienated from death. But also more broadly: in all kinds of areas we yearn for a more personal approach. We want to remain human even when we die. That being human is much more explicit with a shroud than with a coffin. Wijnands: 'Certainly if you choose a linen fabric, then you can still really see the silhouette. That thought is often frightening in advance, but afterwards people are glad that they have experienced it.' Incidentally, there is no way to predict who will choose it, he learns from experience: 'For example, we recently sold one in jeans for an eighteen-year-old Belgian girl, but also for a grandfather.' Greet Chielens now looks back fondly on her first farewell without a coffin. 'It was so beautiful, so comforting, so cuddly, so soft. You see the contours of a body, you have an idea of ​​what type of person is lying under the sheet. You can put things between the folds, notes, flowers, to give away.' She does not want to say that it is better than a coffin. 'It is a matter of personal preference and the way in which you deal with death. In a coffin there is more distance, but I have also experienced beautiful family rituals at the coffin.'

Sustainable and Green

There is another factor: environmental awareness. There are certainly already ecological coffins, but a shroud decays faster. Wijnands: 'If you are buried in a hemp shroud on a carrier made of willow branches, for example.' In the Netherlands, you already have complete natural burial grounds , in Flanders, they are not there yet. In our country, for the time being, it is only possible at a few places for biodegradable urns. And the price? Shrouds are available from 300 to 400 euros. A coffin usually costs more. 'But you also have shrouds in silk that cost more than a thousand euros', says Greet Chielens. 'It all depends on the fabric and the finish you choose. And you can already get cheap coffins for five hundred euros. Personally, I do not think the price is an argument. But for me, it is something that has to fit into the overall picture. I do not see a shroud at a traditional funeral, in a cold room at a funeral director's anytime soon. It suits an intimate and personal farewell.'

What is it

A shroud is: a cloth that you wrap around a deceased person. It can be used instead of a coffin. For both funerals and cremations. What does the law say: since 2004 its use has been permitted. For cremations, an underlying board is required for technical reasons. For burials, this is not necessary.

Written by Lieve van Velde for the Standaard.