I've been amazed recently at the things that get attributed to dead people.

After Washington Redskins safety Sean Taylor was shot and killed this past season, the team credited Taylor not only with inspiring the team to play well and make the playoffs, but actually assisting in some tangible way on the field. In the team's playoff-clinching win over the rival Dallas Cowboys, even the margin of victory was credited to the fallen teammate. The Redskins had won by 21 points. Twenty-one just happens to be the number that Taylor wore.

In 2005, Wellington Mara and Robert Tisch, the two owners of the New York Giants, both died after losing long battles with different illnesses. This season, during the trophy ceremonies for the NFC Championship Game and Super Bowl XLII, Giant leadership hinted at some sort of mystical intervention by Mara and Tisch in the Giants' victories over the Packers and Patriots. Similarly, a member of my family reminded us that as my grandmother lay dying two years ago, he had leaned in and whispered, "Put in a good word for the Giants."

Outside of New York and Washington, the New England Patriots' pursuit of perfection was at times linked with the offseason death of teammate Marquise Hill in a jet ski accident.

This phenomonon is not limited to sports, however. Since my grandmother died two years ago, family members have credited her with causing any favorable coincidence in their lives. And because my grandmother loved sunsets, any particularly beautiful sunset is her sending a message to us. When I hear these things, I feel like Paul must have when he penned these words to the Thessalonians: "Now we do not want you to be uninformed, brothers and sisters, about those who are asleep, so that you will not grieve like the rest who have no hope." (1 Thess. 4:13, NET)

When I teach 7th graders about cultures that worshipped their ancestors, the students always find it strange and struggle to understand why anyone would worship a dead relative. But is this concept as foreign to 21st century Americans as it may seem? Does giving a dead loved one credit for good weather, beautiful sunsets, or victory and succes count as ancestor worship? Is it bad theology or just an innocent way of remembering someone who has passed from this life? What should a believer's reaction be when these types of statements are made? Does this type of thinking betray a lack of hope in this life and the life to come?