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What you don't know, zip, is that episcapagan (or high episcapagan) is a term used in the pagan community to describe people who are overly dedicated to elaborate, well-scripted ritual work, usually involving a lot of costuming, ritual equipment, incenses with long and often secret recipes, and numerous people to take the parts of the various ritual players.
I know you mean it differently, but the term itself made me laugh heartily.
My own contribution to Connor's passage, would be to offer this to his mother. It is often thought to be (or passed off as) a traditional Native American Blessing.
It isn't. It was written in 1932 by a poet named Mary Frye.
It is beautiful, no matter what it's origin.
I have used it when officiating at funerals.
Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousands winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there. I did not die.
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