Monday 10 October 2011

Death and Memory

This is the draught of an article I hope to submit to the Guardian. Open to comments on how it can be improved.


If religion did not speak to the deepest sighs and longings of the human heart then it would be as well not to speak at all. Of these sighs few are more profound than those offered up for the death of one we love. My father, William Hepburn, died earlier this year and since by tradition Catholics devote the month of November in particular to remembering our dead this November of 2011 becomes a special one for me . It is one of the examples in Catholic life where theological truths and natural human emotions combine in such a way as to produce the inner peace we all desire and the calm acceptance that what has happened has happened.

It is no coincidence that this time precedes Advent a liturgical season that prepares believers for light to appear in the midst of darkness. We move from the De Profundis of Psalm 129   "Out of the depths I have cried to thee, O Lord" to the anticipation of Isaiah 9  "The people that walked in darkness, have seen a great light: to them that dwelt in the region of the shadow of death, light is risen". Outside the Church we bereaved ones are insistently urged to move on, to reach closure, not to be morbid. Within our faith family we have this time of the year where parishes unite around prayer and remembrance for the dead. It is not considered gauche or uncool to bring to mind those whose passing made us weep. Death is placed in a context not only of eternity but of community. We pray for each of the dead not simply for our own ones. The theological truth we celebrate is the Communion of the Saints. The Church consists not merely of those now alive on earth but of those alive to God in heaven and in purgatory, something marked out by the twin feasts of All Saints and All Souls on 1 and 2 November. 

In particular the prayers we offer are for those souls still in purgatory. Whatever one may think of the theological basis for the doctrine of purgatory it offers a psychologically realistic parallel between those gone and those left behind. As we endure suffering after and because of their passing so to they suffer before reaching the goal of the beatific vision. We and they are in solidarity, a solidarity of both pain and hope. We have a promised land to reach but a desert to pass though before we arrive at it. And, again, it is a community event. We remember our dead together, we are on pilgrimage together and we shall rejoice together "They that sow in tears shall reap in joy. Going they went and wept, casting their seeds. But coming they shall come with joyfulness, carrying their sheaves." (Psalm 125  ).

We speak of those who have gone ahead as the "faithful departed". As a convert this raises an interesting not to say vital question. My dear father was not a Catholic. The customary alliance of hard line fundamentalists and militant new atheists will no doubt unite to suggest that the logical consequence of my belief system would thrust him into that third and much less popular destination of hell and so offering up prayers on his behalf represents either hypocrisy on my part or a lack of belief that any of this stuff is actually true. These are questions I faced and reflected deeply upon when my equally non-Catholic mother, Irena Hepburn, died in 1998. My instant response then was what it is now. My parents were always faithful to me and to virtue as they understood it. Selfless faithfulness is a product of love and, consciously or unconsciously, is therefore grounded upon God the faithful and loving. My prayers for them, and for any one else for whom I am asked to pray, are offered up in a perfect trust that love is never wasted and that He who is the fount of all love gladly receives back unto Himself each of His children who follow His model.  

5 comments:

  1. The destination of anyone's soul is not up to us, Steve. Speculating is for the frightened or the self-righteous, both of whom miss the point of faith.

    Right after September 11,2001, I asked the question about the people who, faced with a 2,000 degree blaze behind them and no hope of rescue, jumped out of the 90th floor windows of the World Trade Center in New York. If suicide is a sin (and it is a sin in Judaism and Islam as well (ironically), what of those who jumped? What I got back was that God knew the conditions of their lives and the conditions of their deaths and that God was infinitely merciful.

    The speculation about anyone who has died is best answered by the quality of his or her life, of what was given, of how people who loved or needed the person -- or both -- were treated. Baptism, IMHO, is not a requirement of Heaven. Religious belief is not a requirement of peace. Caring is and always will be. Your parents cared for you and raised a caring human being. They didn't have to be Catholic to join the buffet line in Paradise.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I think they prefer waitress service Karen. Anyways, it is said that hard cases make bad law. For God there are no hard cases but for us understanding what is simple to Him takes a bit of doing sometimes. You are right that trusting in His mercy is the thing to do. The thing He does is the thing that should be done. As King David said "But if he shall say to me: Thou pleasest me not: I am ready, let him do that which is good before him." (2 Samuel 15:26)

    ReplyDelete
  3. For JanC15 who is having difficulties posting.


    I'm reminded of a funeral of a friend's partner who died a few years ago. Marc died of aids and in the last months of his life had a deep conversion experience and received spiritual guidance from a friend, a priest. He had a holy death and a wonderful funeral. Coming out of the Church I commented 'nobody can do it like the Catholics' which brought a few smiles. But it's true that the whole person is held in love as are we who are present and it's such a gift.

    I'm also reminded of a relative who committed suicide and who I know was very close to the Lord but who suffered mentally. I knew Jesus was with him at the time of death.

    We are mysterious human beings at times and without compassion all religions are rhetoric.

    GB
    Jan

    ReplyDelete
  4. "My parents were always faithful to me and to virtue as they understood it. Selfless faithfulness is a product of love and, consciously or unconsciously, is therefore grounded upon God the faithful and loving. My prayers for them, and for any one else for whom I am asked to pray, are offered up in a perfect trust that love is never wasted and that He who is the fount of all love gladly receives back unto Himself each of His children who follow His model."

    Responding months later to your post... your final words above are eloquent and beautiful and I am sure correct. Thank you for a well thought out and also heartfelt post.


    (Did this appear in The Guardian in the end?)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hi there, thanks for commenting. A version of this article did appear in the Face to Faith slot in the Guardian-

      http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/belief/2011/oct/28/why-pray-for-souls-in-purgatory?INTCMP=SRCH

      Delete