Writing my father’s obituary
Can our churches learn from the process?
By Mark Roth
My father died in April.
He was 94, and outlived my mother by just five weeks. When he learned he had chronic kidney failure, he chose not to go through dialysis, and agreed to use hospice services instead.
As hard as it was to lose him, we both knew the hospice approach was the best one for him. It not only meant he could avoid trips to the emergency room and intensive care, but it allowed him to focus on how he wanted to live out his last days, including a request that I help him write his obituary.
I am now part of a group in Pittsburgh Presbytery called the Unglued Church that strives to help churches find a path to renewal and revitalization. I am enthused and happy to contribute to this effort. But as an officer of our Commission on Ministry, I am also aware of just how many of our smaller congregations inevitably will close over the next 20 years.
And as I think about how my parents spent their final weeks of life, I am convinced that we need to create a hospice service for our churches as well.
Already, too many of our congregations have ended their existence by turning over their keys and walking away, sometimes leaving behind cabinets full of old school supplies and leftovers in the church refrigerator.
How much better it would be to have people who could not only help congregations celebrate the ministry they have provided, but in some cases, to create a legacy to continue the work of the kingdom in their communities.
Many churches come to the end still possessing legacy funds that are unspent, and many have property with considerable value as well. A hospice program for a presbytery would not just be a way to honor the faithful work of generations past, but to explore the best ways to continue it for those not yet born.
When I’m working with churches that are struggling with declining membership and finances, I like to remind them that almost all thriving churches once had a time when their future was tenuous.
The obverse is also true. Churches that feel they no longer have the energy and resources to keep going can all remember some point in their history when Sunday School classes were brimming, pews were nearly full and one baby after another was being baptized.
Working with my father on his obituary brought to life those same moments of vitality and promise in his personal history. One of the last things my father did was to prepare a list of people that he wanted ensure would receive copies of his and my mom’s death notices.
The warm responses we received after sending out that mailing reminded us of just how valued our parents were to so many people we barely knew, and how far reaching their impact had been.
And now, their legacy lives on not just in the lives of my brothers and sister, but in all the people inside and outside our family whose lives were graced by their work and laughter.
We can create the same gift of remembrance and legacy for our churches as they reach the end of their life cycles. It is a visible way to proclaim that we are in the hands of the One who has conquered death forever.
Mark Roth is a retired journalist and freelancer who specializes in writing about health and science issues. He is a Ruling Elder based at East Liberty Presbyterian Church in Pittsburgh, and is vice-chair of Pittsburgh Presbytery’s Commission on Ministry. He serves as an Adaptive Change Adviser for Pittsburgh Presbytery’s Unglued Church Project.