Praying for the Souls in Purgatory

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When we enter heaven, we will be greeted and thanked by the poor souls we prayed for in purgatory.

When I read that image by Archbishop Fulton J. Sheen not too long ago, I began to pray regularly for the souls in purgatory, which the Catechism of the Catholic Church defines as “a final cleansing of human imperfection before one is able to enter the joy of heaven.”

This is distinct from the punishment of the damned; those in purgatory died in God’s grace, but they require purification to “achieve the holiness necessary to enter the joy of heaven,” the Catechism states.

It seems to me that only saints and martyrs go to heaven immediately after they die, so I envision millions of souls languishing in purgatory. If my prayers can help speed their way to heaven, I’m happy to spend a couple of minutes a day doing that.

My favorite prayer for this purpose is from the Raccolta; it includes the plea for God to “deliver the souls in purgatory, and especially that soul amongst them all who is most destitute of spiritual aid…”

Praying for the most destitute soul made me feel virtuous. Millions of people, myself among them, pray for the repose of the souls of our loved ones, but what about those who have no friends or family? Here’s Marie with her clasped hands to the rescue!

Or that was my image of myself, anyway, until on Ash Wednesday, when I was reciting this prayer, it suddenly occurred to me to wonder exactly who that most destitute soul could be. What if it were the worst sinner in the world, like a mass murderer or child molester?

Let’s assume for the sake of this argument that prior to this person’s death, he [for brevity’s sake I’m going to use the masculine pronoun] sincerely repented of his sins and had faith in God. According to Catholic teaching, in such circumstances, God could forgive and consign him to purgatory, where he could be the most destitute soul, which means I’d be praying for him, which is not something I want to do. I find it difficult enough to pray for such persons while they’re alive – my prayer is always “turn their hearts to you, O Lord” – but praying that they enter heaven isn’t something I want to do.

And, honestly, the idea of arriving in heaven to find a mass murderer waiting to thank me for my prayers fills me with repugnance. Not terribly Christian of me, I know. In this case, I’m having trouble with the teaching of “forgive each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.” If God in his great mercy and infinite wisdom welcomed a truly repentant mass murderer into heaven, I don’t think I’d be among the angels rejoicing at his repentance.

I know this is all a thought experiment, but it had a grip on my imagination, so I talked with Fr. Dominic Sternhagen, pastor of St. Ann Parish, about it. He pointed out that, if indeed a mass murderer were in heaven, that person would have been cleansed of all sins, so there would be no reason to not welcome his thanks, if I did indeed pray for him.

Except that, even looked at in this light, I don’t want to have prayed for him. I acknowledge that if God in his infinite goodness and mercy forgave such a person, I should, too, (“judge not lest ye be judged” and all that) but I can’t find it in my heart to do so. Which I suppose means I should pray for myself: “Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me,” so that I can in good conscience continue to pray without reserve for the souls in purgatory.

Marie Mischel is editor of the Intermountain Catholic. Reach her at marie@icatholic.org.