Dear Friends,

Dear Friends, The words of today’s Gospel should not be dismissed too lightly in our hearing them. For within them are encapsulated the “secret” to happiness. Jesus says that when we realized that we are “Blessed” in this world when we accept that, in this realm, the deepest desire of our hearts will not be satisfied, because our longing is for communion with God which can never be fully achieved in this world. Thus, when our focus is on eternal life, we should: “Rejoice and be glad, for your reward will be great in heaven.” What is perceived as folly in the world is the wisdom of God’s perspective to life and the design of His unconditional love.

Each year, we begin November with the Solemnity of All Saints, the hope-filled promise of our destiny in God’s loving design. Moreover, this month is dedicated to the commemoration of all the faithful departed and the annual reminder of God’s patience with us in our failure to accept His invitation to life. In other words, for those of us still here on earth we are exhorted to remember that our choices, our actions and our omissions have an effect, not only here in the realm of time and space, but also in eternity. Heaven isn’t a sure bet, simply because we think that we are nice people. Faith is not a possibility or a hopeful fantasy or the “spiritual nice-set-of-china” that we pull out only at Christmas and Easter. No, our faith is a genuine reality that opens our minds to God’s perspective about life, death, and the hereafter. It is a certainty more authentic than anything we claim to be empirically provable. When in our Faith we speak about heaven, and resurrection, and the next life, because they are True. God has spoken His Word to us! They are True, because God’s Word has become flesh and made His dwelling in our midst. God does not lie; His Word reveals who He is and in Him there is no duplicity . . . not even a smidge!

Purgatory may seem old-fashioned and irrelevant, but it is a reality with which we must come to grips. Why? Well, clearly: if you died at this very second, could you honestly say that you are, as you are, worthy of entering the Presence of Eternal Love for all eternity? I daresay that most of us would have to admit shamefacedly, but honestly, No! I used to think that Purgatory seemed like a scary situation that God would not really impose on us. Then one day, I woke up from the presumptuous sleep of a complacent faith and said, “Stop blaming God for everything you don’t like in life;” prompting myself to take responsibility for my own selfish and bad choices. Realizing, at the same time, that I was not responsible for solving all the problems of the world. It was a moment of grace to be humbled, to receive God’s gifts gratefully, as they are given, seeking to discover His Presence, and generously share that awesome reality. Believe me, it’s not always an easy task.

Reflecting on a situation that happened in the first grade, several years ago, I came to understand the mystery of Purgatory and realize its powerful and essential purpose in my spiritual life. First of all, let me say this unreservedly: I loved my teacher, Sr. Zephrine. To this little boy, despite her seeming older than God, she was the paragon of gentleness, sweetness and love. I never doubted the fact that she loved me. Now picture it: Bridesburg, St. John Cantius School on a cold December afternoon in 1967, my friend and I entered a gentlemanly duel to determine whose pencil was sharper. In the final analysis, the day was mine: Robert, crestfallen after realizing that his pencil point was gone, and I, still victoriously wielding a perfect #2. The following day which was the feast of the Immaculate Conception, after returning from Mass, I informed my Mother about a pain in my chest and admitted the whole tale of my chivalrous and gallant combat (she was not impressed). We immediately left for Dr. Avallone’s office, where I watched in terror as the little piece of lead was extracted from my chest, which felt more like Excalibur being pulled robustly from the rock by King Arthur, himself. As if that was not enough for one day, my dear Mom informed me that I would have to explain to Sister Zephrine what had happened and what I had done. Why? She didn’t even know it took place! No one else was hurt (I was certain of that because my Mother called Robert’s Mother to make sure that he was lead free.) On Monday, 11 December 1967, I experienced “the purgation of love” that would define Purgatory for me thence forward. As a brave, albeit wounded knight, I went to Sister to recount the whole tale: not afraid of her scolding me or spanking me—she just never would. I was not afraid; I was terribly ashamed. In retrospect, I felt the fire of being mortified to admit to this lovely lady that I violated her trust and that I never wanted to hurt her feelings. Amid a toddler’s sobs, she smiled gently, thanked me for my honesty and hugged me.

Knowing the love of God assuredly, I am hopeful that the Purgatory that awaits our weary souls after death looks more like this curative reality, than a punitive one we have traditionally imagined. And in that mysterious moment when I stand in the Presence of Pure Love, will I not burn with utter shame, when I review, in His gracious Presence, the countless opportunities of grace that He had afforded me in life and my oft cavalier attitude toward them? My suffering will not be caused by the One before whom I stand, but from the welling up from the depths of my being, a purifying response to the fullness of Love accepting myself as the image and likeness of Eucharistic self-giving.

Be of good cheer and have a blessed week!

Msgr. Grous