My brother did not belive in the Church. I don't think he believed in God, but I am not sure. I know he wanted nothing to do with Church.
When he died, the funeral director asked what Church we wanted the service held in. Dad, grief stricken and numb from shock was thinking the Church he and my mom got married in. I looked at dad, and reminded him that if we put Jimmy's casket in a Church, he would sit up and slap all of us. Dad agreed, and the funeral director offered to get a local Priest to come to the funeral home and say a few prayers. He explained that some people may feel better if that happened. Dad agreed to it.
It was the one of the most unbelievable funerals I ever attended. As a grieving sister, it helped me. The Priest they hired came in, and thought he was doing a generic funeral. Turns out, he realizes the name sounds familiar. Once he found out the nickname we called our brother, he knew. He had taken an ASL course at the local college and my brother was in his class. So, the Priest was actually able to give personal stories about my brother in his Eulogy. Of all my siblings, the fact Jimmy had a Priest who knew him personally speak at his funeral, who would of thought? He was the least religious of my family.