When Grandma Dies—And We Make Her God: How We Slip Into Ancestor Worship
In the name of Jesus. Amen.
We are often astonished when we hear about the crazy actions of the Israelites in the Old Testament. You know what I am talking about. When you open up the Old Testament, you can read countless accounts of the Israelites drifting away from the one true God and turning to the worship of Canaanite gods.
Now, perhaps you are like me. A part of us becomes a little disgusted with the Israelites; after all, how could they so easily fall into such obvious pagan practices?
But truth be told, dear friends, we are not always the best at smelling what is right beneath our own noses. Indeed, we can be quick to recognize the paganism of ancient Israel while remaining remarkably blind to the paganism that permeates much of our culture, homes, and, yes, even our churches.
For example, consider how we talk about our loved ones who have died. Let me give you an example. A grandmother dies, and her granddaughter, a woman in her thirties, says:
“I know Grandma is still with me. Even though she’s in a better place, I know she’s watching over me, guiding me, and sending me little reminders that she’s never really left. Just this morning, I was standing by my car, thinking about how much I missed her, when a beautiful ladybug fluttered in and landed right on my hand. I immediately knew it was Grandma. That was her way of saying, ‘I’m still here, sweetheart.’ Some people might call it a coincidence, but I know better. She sends me signs all the time. Sometimes it’s a cardinal outside my window, a song on the radio at just the right moment, or a light flickering when I’m feeling lonely. Other times, she visits me in my dreams, and it feels so real that I know she’s trying to tell me something. When I’m facing a difficult decision, I sometimes whisper, ‘Grandma, please show me what to do.’ And somehow, she always finds a way to answer. I know she’s protecting me, encouraging me, and guiding me from above.’”
Now, does this sound familiar? It should. I hear comments like these at about 70% of the funerals here at St. Paul’s Lutheran—in conversations in the hallway and fellowship hall. These comments do not necessarily come from our members, but they are common.
Now, what is going on here?
Quite simply, dear friends, when we call upon the dead for guidance and protection, we have crossed into ancestor worship. Yes, even when we dress it in Christian language.
But how is it ancestor worship?
Think about it for a moment. In this way of thinking, our loved ones have gone to a better place, yet somehow, they still have one foot planted in this world. They are in heaven, yet they constantly look down, follow our struggles, monitor our decisions, and try to positively influence our lives. And the loved ones who remain, well, they derive great comfort from knowing their loved ones are still guiding their lives, helping them out, and watching over them.
Dear friends, consider the dreadful picture this paints. We may not intend it this way, but think about what we are saying: Grandma is in paradise, yet she remains preoccupied with every trouble, every heartbreak, and every crisis happening here on earth. She watches her loved ones suffer, yet she can do little more than send a ladybug or flicker a light. We say she is at rest, yet we give her the ongoing responsibility of watching over us. We say she is free from suffering, yet we make her a helpless spectator of our suffering. Dear friends, that does not sound like paradise. It sounds like another kind of captivity.
And consider what this way of thinking does to the living. When sorrow strikes, when fear creeps in, when decisions become difficult, where does a person turn? Instead of calling upon our heavenly Father, the person begins looking for a message from Grandma. Instead of trusting Christ’s promises, the person begins deciphering coincidences. Instead of taking comfort in the Lord’s care and the protection of the Lord’s holy angels, the person starts asking the dead for guidance. And then, before long, a cardinal becomes more reassuring than Holy Scripture. A flickering light becomes more convincing than the promises of Baptism. A dream becomes more important than Jesus’ promise of the resurrection.
Lord, have mercy!
Now, to be clear, there is nothing wrong with missing Grandma. There is nothing wrong with remembering her voice, her kindness, her smile, or the love you shared. These memories are gifts. Grief is real. And the desire to see those we love again is real, too.
But there is a world of difference between remembering the dead and seeking help from the dead. There is a world of difference between giving thanks for our loved ones and treating them as invisible guardians. The First Commandment still stands: “You shall have no other gods.” We are to fear, love, and trust in God above all things – above our departed loved ones.
* * *
This brings us to All Saints’ Day.
Today, dear friends, we do not gather to worship our ancestors. We do not gather to imagine that those who have died in Christ are hovering around us, waiting to send mysterious signs. No, we gather to confess something so much better – so much more comforting: those who have died in the faith are with Jesus.
Did you hear that? They are with Jesus Christ!
Remember what Christ told the thief on the cross? Jesus did not say to the thief on the cross,
“Today you will be somewhere between heaven and earth, watching your loved ones from a distance, and sending them little signs to give them little bits of encouragement..”
No! He said,
“Today you will be with Me in paradise.”
And the Apostle Paul did not speak of death as a promotion to an earthly guardian position. No, Paul desired to depart – to die and be with Christ, which is far better.
And so, our Christian loved ones who have died are not lost. They are not wandering as if they are trapped between two worlds. Instead, their bodies rest in the grave, awaiting the resurrection of the dead, while their souls are with Christ. In life they were with Christ, and in death they are still with Christ.
This is why there are not two churches—one alive and one dead. Instead, there is one holy Christian Church that is united in one Lord, one faith, and one Baptism. In other words, we sometimes call those still struggling here in this vale of tears the Church Militant. And those resting with Christ in paradise are called the Church Triumphant. But again, these are not two different churches. We are one Church because we have one Savior.
Listen up! Sit up in your pews. Our departed loved ones who have died in Christ, they worship the Lamb before His throne. And we worship that very same Lamb here, receiving His gifts, hearing His Word, and kneeling at His altar. We are not united because the dead send signs to us. We are not close to our dead loved ones because they are still involved in this vale of tears. No, we are united to our dead loved ones in Christ. Christ holds His entire Church together. Don’t let this escape you: Christ holds us Christians now; Christ holds all the Christians who have died in the faith now.
So, dear Baptized Saints, you do not need to search for Grandma in a ladybug. You do not need to ask Grandpa for guidance. You do not need to interpret every strange occurrence as a message from heaven. You don’t need to do that because Grandma is with Christ and you are with Christ. You are a part of the same church with the same Lord, with the same future, and the same promises.
And get this, Jesus does not communicate His mercy to you in riddles. Jesus speaks plainly in His Word. Jesus washes you in Baptism. He absolves your sins. He feeds you with His very body and blood. And He promises, not merely that your loved ones are safe with Him, but that you, too, shall rise from the dead with them to be caught up together with them before Christ on the last day.
That is the comfort of All Saints’ Day. Those who died in Christ are with Christ. Those who live in Christ belong to Christ. And when Christ appears in glory, all His saints shall be bodily raised and gathered together before Him.
Until then, we look not to the dead, but to the living Lord Jesus. For, as Saint Paul says,
“To live is Christ, and to die is gain.”
In the name of Jesus. Amen.
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