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“A Catholic Education Is An Advantage For Life.” (question: which “life” would the sloganeers be referring to?) by Kelly Clark — the lady in the pew — September 23, 2003 A friend writes: “I am the father of three elementary school children who attend a Catholic school. The other day my 11 year old A-student daughter was complaining about the heat, and I told her to `offer it up for the poor souls in Purgatory.’ She looked at me quizzically and asked what Purgatory was.” Now, I’m here to tell you: I was shocked — shocked! — at this revelation. How could an 11-year-old, Catholic school-educated girl not know about Purgatory? Shuddering, I nevertheless assumed this was an isolated incident. I mean, Purgatory, for Heaven’s (so to speak) sake! It’s one of the foundations of Catholic belief. Right? I walk around the city a lot. Almost every day, actually. And my tromping regularly takes me by a Catholic high school, usually right around dismissal time. I know it’s a Catholic high school — as opposed to, say, a Buddhist pre-school— for two sound reasons:
So anyway, one day shortly after hearing from my friend, I happened to tromp by some Catholic school kids waiting for a bus, having, one presumes, gotten their daily dosage of “Life Advantages.” It was hot and muggy, and the bus was apparently late. I’d like to tell you that one of the seven-footers remarked: “Wherever could the bus be? Why, it’s rather uncomfortably warm, isn’t it?” I’d like to tell you that, but honesty forbids. Actually, I can’t tell you what Joe Seven-Foot said exactly because there’s a limit to how many “bleeps” I can put into a sentence and still retain some semblance of its meaning. Let’s just say that the Not-So-Jolly Giant compared his discomfort to those suffering the tortures of the damned. I was inspired! Probably I should’ve reprimanded the kid on his language. But I didn’t. I didn’t know him all that well, and, then again there was his size and mood to consider. (I am nothing if not honest about my basic cowardice.) Instead, thinking of my friend and his 11-year old daughter, I smiled and suggested: “Offer it up for the poor souls in Purgatory, why don’t you?” And was rewarded with a look so blank it made Alfred E. Neumann look positively enlightened. Sheesh. Hey, that reminds me! I’ve been meaning to ask you something. Are you worried about The Social Security System? If you’re like me, you sometimes tune-in to your local talk radio show when you’re stuck in rush hour traffic. You learn a lot, listening to talk radio. Where else can you get the skinny on hot button topics like the California Recall Campaign and Jennifer Lopez? To say nothing of The Social Security System. I gather that a lot of people are worried about The Social Security System. Why are they worried? They’re worried that when it comes time for them to start drawing their checks, The Social Security System will be kaput. Call me apathetic, but the relative financial stability of The Social Security System doesn’t keep me up most nights. (Neither, I admit, does the California Recall Campaign, nor the state of the J-Lo/Affleck romance.) But ignorance about the state of Purgatory terrifies me! I don’t know about you. But a sinner like me has an vested interest in everybody knowing about Purgatory. And not just knowing about it, but keeping up a steady offering of prayers and sacrifices for the souls there! Look, I’ve got a lot of friends, relatives, and loved ones whom I sincerely hope are in Purgatory. Actually, I hope they’re in Heaven, but, believe me: I’ll settle for Purgatory. Because the alternative is — well, it’s Hell. And, while I’m extremely grateful for the gift of Purgatory, I’m anxious to get those friends, relatives, and loved ones out of there as soon as possible. For their own sakes, of course. But — let’s face it — once they’re out of Purgatory and in Heaven, they can pray for me! “As usual, it’s all about you, isn’t it Kelly?” Well, yeah, in a way. But not entirely. Hey, I’m thinking about you, too! And, believe it or not, I’m thinking about my friend’s 11-year old daughter and the Seven Footer in my neighborhood. If Purgatory becomes increasingly perceived as little more than a quaint concept reminiscent of the pre-historic age before the Enlightenment known as Vatican II — and I’m beginning to think it is — we’re all in a boatload of trouble. Because, you know what’s scarier by far than a depleted Social Security Administration? How ‘bout a bankrupt eternity? “A Catholic Education Is An Advantage For Life.” Again, I’m wondering: which “life?” I’m positive that a good Catholic school is an excellent preparatory system designed to give the student that all-important edge when it comes to getting into excellent colleges and universities. Like Boston College, Notre Dame, and — uh, on the second thought, let’s not go there. If we’re talking about “life” as in the time we’ve got here on earth, then, sure, a Catholic education seems to fill the bill — for the upcoming wonders of Higher Education, A Promising Career, a Good House in a Decent Neighborhood, and a few shiny cars in the garage. But what does that have to do with Catholicism — or eternal life? “Gee, Kelly. Two kids don’t know about Purgatory and you get all in a dither!” I admit I haven’t conducted any surveys, exhaustive or otherwise, on the knowledge of Purgatory among Catholic School students. (Although I gather from people like my friend Leila — more on her in a sec — that my concerns about catechesis aren’t exactly new, nor should they be confined to the walls of the Catholic School classroom.) I don’t have children of my own, so I can’t ask them. And even I can’t hang around Catholic School bus stops throughout the fruited plain, asking kids if they know anything about Purgatory. What I can do — actually what I am doing — is asking you for something. Call it a favor, if you’d like. What I’m asking you to do is make sure any child within your sphere of influence knows all about Purgatory. Please do this. If not for the children — then do it for the sake of the adults. Thank you for joining me today. I’d appreciate your prayers. I pray for you all the time! In Christ,
Kelly P.S. Before you leave, would you mind doing me — and yourself, I think! — a favor? Go up to the “Links” section in the upper left hand corner, click it open, and then click on “I Was Robbed (GenX Leila).” It’s really worth the trip. Aw heck, I’ll make it even easier for you. Here: http://www.lisaslighthouse.org/testimonies/Prodigal_Daughter.html 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 regularly, God willing. To be notified of updates, please e-mail me. The link’s on the left. “Mary, Mother of the Church, pray for us.” |
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