Speaking of what the Jewish undead theoretically can and cannot do... Here's an excerpt (in the following blue text) from one of my favorite, humorous short stories by the late, great science fiction writer Harlan Ellison, titled "I'm Looking for Kadak."
To briefly set the scene, an alien race of Jews (yes, they are Jewish aliens -- you'd have to read the story to find out how that happened), are about to sit shivah for the impending death of their planet. There are at least ten Jews remaining on the planet for the purpose (the rest have fled to an alternate planet of safety) -- but one of this minyan, named Snodle, has suddenly died.
Although Snodle is now technically dead, he can still speak and interact with his fellow, remaining, nine Jews. He just can't be part of the minyan anymore. This presents a dilemma.
So where would we get a tenth man for the minyan?
There were only nine Jews on the whole planet.
Then Snodle said, "There's always Kadak."
"Shut up, you're dead," Reb Jeshaia said, but it didn't do any good. Snodle kept suggesting Kadak.
You should understand, one of the drawbacks of my species, which maybe a butterfly wouldn't know, is that when we die, and pass on, there's still talking. Nuhdzhing. Oh. You want to know how that can be. How a dead Jew can talk, through the veil, from the other side. What am I, a science authority, I should know how that works? I wouldn't lie on you: I don't know. Always it's been the same. One of us seizes up and dies, and the body squats there and doesn't decay the way the tourists' do when they get shikker in a blind pig bar in downtown Houmitz and stagger out in the gutter and get knocked over by a tumbrel on the way to the casinos.
But the voice starts up. Nuhdzhing!
It probably has something to do with the soul, but I wouldn't put a bet on that; all I can say is thank God we don't worship ancestors here on Zsouchmuhn, because we'd have such a sky full of nuhdzhing old farts telling us how to run our lives, it wouldn't be worth it to keep on this side of the veil. Bless the name of Abraham, after a while they shut up and go off somewhere.
You can read this story in this anthology:
Wandering Stars: An Anthology of Jewish Fantasy and Science Fiction
Quoted from link: "Wandering Stars is the landmark collection of Jewish science fiction and fantasy. The first of its kind, it is an established and enduring classic. This is the first time in a science fiction collection that the Jewish People―and the richness of their themes and particular points of view―appear without a mask. Wandering Stars is a showpiece of Jewish wit, culture, and lore, of the blend of humor and sadness, cynicism, and faith. In these pages you’ll find superlative tales of fantasy and science fiction by masters."
I'm tagging
@rosends on this, as he might be interested in this anthology for his high school students.