Over the last few years, as Old South has focused on how to move into the future with our shrinking congregation and our stubbornly unshrinking, and demanding, physical plant, people have had a variety of responses to the plans we have considered. As we began to coalesce around the possibility of putting the sanctuary building up for sale, and have now done so, I have heard from several people— none of them currently active members of Old South— who have denigrated this particular decision by way of conjuring what seems to them the certain assessment of people who were once devoted Old South members, but are now no longer among the living. The comment usually goes something like, “If so-and-so were still alive, this would surely kill him (or her).”

I haven’t yet figured out how to respond to this sort of appraisal of the church’s situation. In one case, I’m not in agreement that the person, who cannot speak for herself (at least not without the aid of a Ouija board), would be so devastated by the decision to put the building up for sale. That particular person was always practical and realistic, able to adjust to changes and circumstances. The other now deceased former members who have been lifted up in this way probably would be raging against the possible sale of their beloved sanctuary. Still, these individuals are no longer with us (although if they were, in significant enough numbers, we wouldn’t be in the difficult position we are in).

It’s strange to me that names of former members are invoked in this way. I realize that the people who make these sorts of declarations are using the deceased as proxies for their own view, but it feels deeply disrespectful to use the deceased in this way, to make such brazen assumptions about their views and perceptions. To call out the disrespect, though, feels unproductive, at best.

How do we deal with the ghosts of the past? Should we consider in any way, how those who have gone before might perceive the process and actions that have taken place in their absence? Why should those who have left us have any sway over our decisions or how we live in the midst of those decisions? Should we consider inviting a medium to our meetings and gatherings to see if those from the great beyond have something meaningful to share?

What seems especially problematic about all of this is that those who invoke the names of the deceased are all, themselves, not currently actively engaged in the work, ministry or worship of the Old South community. While they may have been in the past, they are no longer and have not been for some time. They are akin to living ghosts, haunting us with their judgments that are rooted firmly in the past and in their connection to Old South that exists only in their memories.

While the life of a faith community is always connected to the past, as we regularly and significantly look to ancient story for guidance in living our individual and collective lives, communities of faith are called to look forward. In our balancing act of considering the old, the new and the current, we cannot be beholden to the presumed opinions of individuals who are now bereft of life, have ceased to be, whose metabolic processes are history, those who have joined the choir invisible (it’s difficult to mention death without a nod to the Monty Python Dead Parrot sketch). Communities of faith are living things. Our work, and mission, is about now and what is to be. While it’s appropriate to honor and memorialize those who are no longer with us, the deceased cannot (for obvious reasons) be actively engaged in our life together as we seek to be the Body of Christ. 

The only dead person who matters is the One who was also resurrected, the One who gives us life and points the way to hope, love, joy and the fullness of life. He’s the One whose opinion ought be at the core of all we do.