An unlikely partner to goings-on in Purgatory

I sat in the city room at the daily newspaper doing what we call in the trade: “moving copy.” A routine obituary came to me for editing and typesetting; but my job, of course, was to look for errors and to see that they were corrected before the information was published in the paper.

In this particular case, I noted that the woman had been a member of a purgatorial society at our local cloistered monastery. Trying to resurrect from my memory the exact wording of those arcane old words has proved impossible. Nevertheless, from the context of the group’s name, it was apparent that the members promised to pray for one another promptly upon death.

Arcane then as now, I felt it necessary to call the monastery to verify the name of the group, the spelling of the words: routine procedure for a routine obit.

Somehow I was also reluctant to make the call. The usual press of deadline bore down, the hour of the night was not early; and the picture showed in my brain of a gruff, officious editor rushing to get the facts from a meek little nun. However, with the reluctance was also a sense of urgency. I dialed the number.

After identifying myself, I said, “Uh, we’ve received an obituary notice, Sister, on a Mrs. ______ I just want to check the name of a group. I note here she was associated with the monastery. From the context, Sister, it seems she was in a society, the members promise to pray for one another promptly at death…”

The meek Sister cut me short, “Oh,” she said, “has she died?”

At the time I made this call, I was not exactly your lockstep, practicing Catholic – more the gadfly exterior with the lukewarm interior. But the experience was surely mystical for me. I felt used, like the Lord wanted to get the word to the deceased’s comrades quickly, so he tapped this joker.

Now I don’t want to make more of this situation than was there, but what was there for me has held a special place in my recollection each November as we pray for the Poor Souls.

I know some people have trouble with the concept of Purgatory, an article of our Faith we accept on faith, the Scripture reference in 2 Maccabees notwithstanding. My faith, though, has been reinforced in a very practical way.

As with so many things about faith: logic, reason, documentation and argument don’t hold a candle to a personal peek in the door of something profound and holy.

The cigarette-smoking editor and the gentle nun became involved in the ongoing life of a woman who had died, two people at least one of whom was an unlikely partner to goings-on in Purgatory. – T.R.

written by Thomas A. Russell
first published in the Lafayette Sunday Visitor on November 16, 1986