The term, a legal one, is at least as old as Blackstone:

SELF-MURDER, the pretended heroism, but real cowardice, of the Stoic philosophers, who destroyed themselves to avoid those ills which they had not the fortitude to endure, though the attempting it seems to be countenanced by the civil law, yet was punished by the Athenian law with cutting off the hand, which committed the desperate deed. And also the law of England wisely and religiously considers, that no man hath a power to destroy life, but by commission from God, the author of it: and, as the suicide is guilty of a double offence; one spiritual, in invading the prerogative of the Almighty, and rushing into his immediate presence uncalled for; the other temporal, against the king, who hath an interest in the preservation of all his subjects; the law has therefore ranked this among the highest, crimes, making it a peculiar species of felony, a felony committed on oneself. … The party must be of years of discretion, and in his senses, else it is no crime. But this excuse ought not to be strained to that length, to which our coroners’ juries are apt to carry it, viz. that the very act of suicide is an evidence of insanity; as if every man who acts contrary to reason, had no reason at all: for the same argument would prove every other criminal non compos, as well as the self-murdereer.

Commentaries, Book IV, Chapter 14.

I stand by my point in #48 that we do no favors by fulfilling any part of a person’s stupid suicide fantasy-made-reality, like the one Blain recounts in #47.

Bainton – “And I saw a new heaven”
Byrd – “Justorum animae”
Harris – “Bring us, O Lord God”
and “Faire is the Heaven” if there’s time
Victoria – “O quam gloriosum”

Hymns:
St Anne (O God our help in ages past) — a classic
O quanta qualia (O what their joy and their glory must be)
Sine Nomine (For all the Saints)
and just for fun
Monk’s Gate (He who would valiant be), but including the hilarious verse about hobgoblins and foul fiends.

Let this serve as an internet memorial should I pass before my time. Not sure where the choir would come from to sing all these tunes.

ditto. It often makes my heart ache to read and/or hear people say things like “self-murderers.”

Wow! We both wrote on this subject today. I wanted to drop a note and say, interesting post – and to let you know that I didn’t see yours until after I posted mine, so you were certainly not one of the folks to whom I was referring when I criticized cremation: You are making memories with the ideas of recording your voice and such. (I was criticizing the idea of just want to disappear into oblivion)

~Jeff

A Death/Funeral CD would be perfect. Y’all’s lists are grrreat. I would like songs that make people cry. In case they don’t cry enough at my funeral. Arcade Fire has an album named Funeral. It, however, does not make me cry.

If one is cremated, is all clothing removed? Or could I be cremated in my temple clothing? Is this a stupid question? I’m not sure.

And gst and Blaine, I’ve had some friends over the years commit suicide and I am still very willing to indulge them. Anything they want/ed, I would bend over backwards to give.

Requiem æternam dona eis, Domine,
et lux perpetua luceat eis.

Grant them eternal rest, O Lord,
and may everlasting light shine upon them.

Confutatis maledictis
Flammis acribus addictis
Voca me cum benedictis.

Oro supplex et acclinis,
Cor contritum quasi cinis
Gere curam mei finis.

When the wicked are confounded,
Consigned to flames of woe,
Call to me, among Thy Saints,

I pray to Thee, kneeling and hopeful,
Heart contrite, like ashes,
Help me in my final state.

The body was Charles F. Winslow’s, a non-Mormon doctor from Boston, Massachusetts, who died of heart failure on July 7th, 1877.

When Winslow’s friends read his will the day he died, they discovered he wanted his body to be burned and his ashes placed in his late wife’s coffin, so they had a special furnace built just for the occasion and announced that the doctor’s remains would be burned the next Thursday. But his children interfered, and threatened to sue, forcing the ceremony to be put on hold until things could be ironed out and a new date—July 31st—could be set.

Winslow’s cremation ended up being a first-rate spectacle. Police were on hand to cordon off the furnace and keep out the mob of curious onlookers that showed up to watch. Some people even jumped the barricade to get a closer look.

There were no comments from church authorities at the time regarding the cremation.

Stephen Prothero has a few details on the cremation in his book (cited above), but not many details. You can find more in the SL Tribune if you look for it.