Its the Feast of All Souls Today.
And this day is cool because its not just the Saints that we are remembering, the big leagues, but all of the little guys, the regular folks who have died – the Joe Schmoes of the world who are just the regular guy in the trenches or mom in the laundry room. But even so, these folks, so many of them, have died, gone to heaven and deserve a remembrance. It’s our nature to do so.
Sometimes folks wonder why we even bother to think of a day to remember and pray for the dead. I mean, they have passed on, no use now right? Well, no. I think, and our faith teaches us, that in fact there is great use. Our souls are immortal. They are us, the realest us. They do not die. This is an article of faith and I know many who disagree. But I believe it. To my mortal bones, I believe we have souls that are immortal.
Therefore, when I die, I hope and pray that my loved ones, heck, ANYONE, remembers to pray for me. Because I’m gonna need it.
I need it now, I will need it more so then, because my time on earth to actively turn my heart away from my measly selfish self and around to the face of God will be done. And so while I hope and pray I am going to heaven, I suspect…if I get to heaven I will be in the foyer of heaven: purgatory.
I said it: ‘Purgatory.”
One of those words! One of those polarizing kind of words.
And I wish it wasn’t.
Purgatory is a beautiful, sensible concept and gives me such comfort and hope.
As I am not a theologian, nor particularly smart or insightful…but am quite opinionated, I get to give you my take on purgatory and why I think its so cool. Keep in mind, I have simplified and condensed a rich complex theological concept into terms my little old middle age wandering mind can digest. So don’t get all tied up in knots over this, go read someone knows.
But, for me, this is the deal with purgatory – a “mom” take on it.
In my rambling rabbit warren of a house, we are lucky enough to have a mud room. This is the main entrance to our house by all friends and family. And you know, even when its my son coming home from college and I can’t wait to see him, we stop him for a moment in the mudroom…we say “Ack! Quick scrape those boots or take ’em off, they are covered in mud!” So he does and then we hug him and pull him into the kitchen to feed him pie and have the little’s jump him with glee.
Perhaps even in heaven, or especially in heaven, it’s all about the pie!