“SCARING THE HELL OUT OF ME”

(sounds like a heck of a good idea!)

by Kelly Clark — the lady in the pew — February 21, 2003

A woman — let’s call her “Virginia” — recently and emphatically told me that she would never, ever, ever send her kids to a Catholic school.

Why?

Because when she attended Catholic school, a nun “scared the hell” out of her.

How did this nun do this?

The nun told her about “Hell.”

“I was never so scared in my life,” my acquaintance raged. “Imagine telling a 14-year-old child about something like that!”

She continued, ranting away about “potential psychological scars,” the vulnerability of adolescence, “child abuse,” and so forth. Before I could zone her out, I was struck by a comment:

“As if, just because I didn’t feel like going to Sunday Mass, God would send me to such a place! Everybody knows that God is Love, for Pete’s sake!”

Yikes.

Last night I read a terrifying book.

It’s called the Catechism of the Catholic Church. Specifically, I looked for information about the dogma of Hell.

Relatively speaking, there isn’t much said about Hell. And that’s what’s so darned scary! The thing is, Hell is such a done deal — a terrifyingly done deal — that what, really, can one say?

Here it is in a nutshell:

“Immediately after death the souls of those who die in a state of mortal sin descend into hell, where they suffer the punishments of hell, `eternal fire.’ The chief punishment of hell is eternal separation from God, in whom alone man can possess the life and happiness for which he was created and for which he longs.” 1035

When was the last time you heard about Hell?

I mean, you’d think that the avoidance of such a fate would be Priority One, right? But do your parish priests talk about it? Do your kids’ religious education teachers talk about it? Do parents talk about Hell to their kids?

Maybe some do. But the last time — other than my friend’s indignant denial of its existence and my own foray into the Catechism last night — I heard about Hell was from my dear friend, Bob. This was about three years ago.

An elderly guy, Bob, who usually attended the 8:00 AM Mass, helped out at the 11:00 Mass, by ushering, seeing to the collection, and other tasks. It seems that on one particular Sunday, Bob went down to the hospitality area of the church to — who knows? — make sure the coffee pot was plugged in, something like that.

Anyway, upon reaching the room, he saw two parish kids — about 11 and 12 years old — munching on donuts and having a grand old time. Bob asked them if they’d been to Mass elsewhere. No, they hadn’t. Well then, Bob continued, were they planning to attend Mass later on in the day? No, they were not.

As Bob told me later, he tried to explain to the kids that deliberately missing Mass on Sunday fell into the realm of “mortal sin.” And that, if one died in the state of mortal sin, his soul would descend into Hell.

And all — you should pardon the expression — hell broke loose.

The kids (after finishing their donuts) immediately complained to their mom that Bob had “scared them.” Mom got upset, yelled at Bob, complained to one of the parish priests, who also got upset, and Bob was told to “go easy” on the kids. The upshot of the whole thing was, Bob was pretty much reduced to tears, and I hardly ever see these kids at Mass. Maybe they go to another church.

Or maybe they’re heading for hell in a handbasket.

“Kelly!!! How can you say something like that???”

Something like what? That Hell exists? Hey, don’t shoot the messenger. (At least, not until I’ve been to Confession!)

The idea of ending up in Hell is — and in my opinion, rightly so — so unthinkably terrifying that we should do all we can to spare, not only ourselves, but everybody in the whole world from such a fate.

But how can that happen if we not only don’t talk about it, but refuse even to acknowledge its existence? Shouldn’t we, instead, be about the business of warning, as the Church does, ourselves and others of the “sad and lamentable reality of eternal death”? 1056

“People don’t like hearing about Hell.”

No doubt they don’t. I don’t either.

I also find the sound of the smoke detector in my house irritating in the extreme.

One night last week, I woke up hungry. So I popped some bread in the toaster. And, unfortunately, fell back to sleep. A half-hour or so later, I was rudely awakened by the shriek of that smoke detector.

What do you think I did? Did I shut it off because the sound “bothered me?”

Please. I might not be the sharpest knife in the drawer but I know that, where there’s smoke, there might be fire. Naturally, I unplugged the toaster, opened a window, made sure there weren’t any embers flying around that would later ignite the whole house, (incidentally burning me to a crisp), and then went back to bed.

Saving my skin happens to be important to me. So even though I hate the smoke alarm, I wouldn’t dream of disconnecting it.

And yet, we seem to want to disconnect ourselves from the knowledge of Hell! This seems to me to be the height of stupidity.

The revelation of Hell is a gift from God.

God — Who doesn’t need us at all — nevertheless loves us unconditionally. Loves us enough to give each of us a free will. We can choose to love God and therefore refrain, at the very least, from rejecting Him outright.

Or, we can reject Him outright.

From the Catechism:

“Mortal sin is a radical possibility of human freedom, as is love itself. It results in the loss of charity and the privation of sanctifying grace, that is, of the state of grace. If it is not redeemed by repentance and God's forgiveness, it causes exclusion from Christ's kingdom and the eternal death of hell, for our freedom has the power to make choices for ever, with no turning back.” 1861

I don’t know anybody who’s ever been in the state of mortal sin. Except me. I remember deliberately rejecting God by committing an act I knew darn well would alienate myself from Him. Somehow — was someone praying for me? — I came to my senses. I remembered Hell. I remembered that Hell was (along with, if you believe, for example, the kids’ accounts of Fatima, extremely painful) an eternal separation from God. This was simply not an option for me.

I hightailed it to the nearest confessional. This does not indicate any particular holiness on my part. It does, I believe, indicate at least an scintilla of good sense.

“Oh my God, I am heartily sorry!”

This is how many of us begin the “Act of Contrition.” Funny thing about that prayer. This is the way I learned part of it:

“Oh my God, I am heartily sorry, for having offended Thee. And I detest all my sins, because of Thy just punishments.”

“Just punishments.” What does that mean?

When I first learned the prayer back in second grade, I recited it to my mom. She told me she’d learned it in a slightly different way. She was taught to pray:

“And I detest all my sins because I dread the loss of Heaven and the pains of Hell.”

Semantics? Maybe. But maybe not. My mom went to Confession every week. I feel pretty good about making it once a month.

Somehow I think there’s a connection.

Yes, Virginia, there is a Hell.

It exists as certainly as sin and evil and Satan exist. Deny their existence if you want to. But do so at your own risk.

Hey, I’m hip to the fact that we should avoid sin, first and foremost, to avoid offending God. And I’m all for the preaching of that most noble of ideals!

But I’m no saint.

And if at times it appears that I can’t — or won’t — love my way into heaven, at least, dear preachers, do me the charity of scaring the hell out of my eternal future!

Thank you for reading this, and may God love you,

Kelly

“Oh, my Jesus, forgive us ours sins! Save us from the fires of Hell! Bring all souls to Heaven, especially those most in need of Thy Mercy.”

And now for the fine print:

Kelly Clark is your basic nobody. She serves on no parish councils, belongs to none of the myriad of designer-chic "Catholic" groups, or any Catholic group, for that matter, other than the Roman Catholic Church. Holding no theology degrees, she has no desire to see herself or any of her sex wearing a clerical collar. She figures Jesus knew what He was doing when He established His Church, and also figures that it’s His Church, not hers, and not yours. She’s an ordinary parishioner of Cathedral of the Holy Cross, Boston.

Use the links on the left to e-mail Kelly, to visit her parish, read past columns, and check out other cool stuff. (If you don’t see any links on the left, you’ve probably been directed here by a search engine. Just point your browser to http://www.pewlady.com to get to the main site.)

Copyright: Kelly Clark, 2003. I don’t care if you share this stuff with others. In fact, I hope you do! Only I’d appreciate it if you’d link me, or print it off as it is. In other words, don’t change anything. Thanks.

“The Lady in the Pew” column is updated weekly, God willing. To be notified of updates, please e-mail me. The link’s on the left.

“Mary, Mother of God, pray for us. Mary, Mother of the Church, pray for us.”