Beyond the Casket: Lessons on Identity from “six to carry the casket and one to say the mass”

Bill Hulseman Dives Deep into Faith, Selfhood, and the Human Experience 

Grief has a way of exposing the core of who we are. In six to carry the casket and one to say the mass: reflections on life, identity, and moving forward, Bill Hulseman does not merely recount loss—he explores how it reshapes our very sense of identity. With clarity, compassion, and an unwavering spiritual lens, he examines what it means to live authentically in the shadow of death. 

The memoir is not a linear narrative but a mosaic of reflections—each one a meditation on the multifaceted nature of selfhood. Hulseman challenges readers to consider how roles, relationships, and beliefs evolve after loss. Who are we when we are no longer someone’s child, sibling, spouse, or friend? How do we navigate a world that feels altered by absence? These are the questions that guide his deeply introspective work. 

Hulseman begins with the concept of inherited identity—how much of who we are is shaped by those who raised us, prayed for us, and passed down their values. Through stories of his family, especially elders whose lives were steeped in faith and quiet service, he paints a picture of identity as something received. But as the book progresses, he invites readers to consider identity as something also chosen. We are not only products of our lineage, Hulseman argues, but active participants in shaping who we become. 

His reflections are deeply rooted in Catholic thought, yet they remain open-hearted and inclusive. Drawing from sacramental theology, he explores how the rituals of the Church—baptism, Eucharist, funeral rites—reflect deeper truths about human dignity and connection. For Hulseman, these rituals are not merely religious obligations; they are affirmations of identity in moments of uncertainty. To carry the casket, to say the mass, to mourn and to remember—these are all ways of saying, “This person mattered. And so do you.” 

Perhaps the most compelling element of the book is Hulseman’s honest wrestling with the gap between public persona and private self. He discusses the ways in which grief strips away pretense, forcing us to confront parts of ourselves we might otherwise avoid. His writing does not shy away from vulnerability. Instead, it leans into the tension between belief and doubt, strength and sorrow, tradition and transformation. This transparency makes his reflections all the more relatable. 

A recurring theme is the importance of story. Hulseman believes that storytelling is one of the most powerful tools for healing and self-understanding. He shares how telling the stories of the deceased—especially those stories that might otherwise be forgotten—reclaims not only their identity but reinforces our own. Memory, in this context, becomes a sacred act of resistance against erasure. 

The book also explores the role of community in shaping and sustaining identity. Hulseman emphasizes that who we are is not defined in isolation. The people who surround us, especially in times of grief, hold up mirrors that help us see ourselves more clearly. Whether in the liturgy, the support of friends, or the quiet presence of someone who simply listens, we are reminded of our belonging. This communal affirmation is essential in moments when personal identity feels fractured by loss. 

Toward the end of the book, Hulseman offers a theology of hope. Identity, he writes, is not static. It is dynamic, evolving with time, experience, and grace. The death of a loved one may feel like the end of a chapter, but it is also the beginning of a new narrative—one in which the departed continue to shape us, not through presence, but through memory, influence, and love. This continuity affirms that we remain tethered to something larger than ourselves. 

six to carry the casket and one to say the mass is a work of quiet brilliance. It invites readers to reflect deeply on who they are and who they are becoming. Through the lens of faith and loss, Bill Hulseman reclaims identity as a sacred gift—something to be honored, nurtured, and, ultimately, lived with authenticity and grace. 

Discover more about Bill Hulseman and his writing at www.billhulseman.com.