<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8" standalone="yes"?><rss version="2.0" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom"><channel><title>Eulogy on Sunday Evening Review</title><link>https://sundayeveningreview.com/tags/eulogy/</link><description>Recent content in Eulogy on Sunday Evening Review</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-us</language><lastBuildDate>Thu, 28 May 2026 06:00:00 -0500</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="https://sundayeveningreview.com/tags/eulogy/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>How to Write a Eulogy</title><link>https://sundayeveningreview.com/faith/how-to-write-a-eulogy/</link><pubDate>Thu, 28 May 2026 06:00:00 -0500</pubDate><guid>https://sundayeveningreview.com/faith/how-to-write-a-eulogy/</guid><description>&lt;p>The call came on a Wednesday evening. A woman from my congregation, a retired schoolteacher named Barbara, had lost her father that Sunday. He was eighty-seven. The death was not unexpected. And now the family had decided that Barbara, who had been the steady one all through the long final months, should speak at the service.&lt;/p>
&lt;p>She wasn&amp;rsquo;t calling to ask if I would write it for her. She was calling because she had been staring at a blank page for two days and she needed someone to tell her where to start.&lt;/p></description></item></channel></rss>