Is Purgatory Empty?

OK. If this is not a Catholic pondering then I do not know what is.

Here is the reasoning which has led me to ask the question, but first bear with me while I discuss some preliminary ideas.

Today, there are approximately 7,000,000,000 people alive on planet Earth, and each one of them possesses an immortal soul.

The average life expectancy for that population is a little more than 61 years or approximately 24,150 days.

Now if we do the math of dividing the population in souls by the average life expectancy we get the current death rate for the world population. It is approximately 290,000 souls per day. Notice that I have stopped talking about people and started talking about souls. Hey! I’m talking Purgatory here, and the transition had to happen!

By the way, we also need to know about how many have ever lived on the planet. The estimate, guesstimate really, that I will use was done in 2002 and is approximately 107,000,000,000. Another way of looking at this is that of all those who have ever lived about 6.5% are still alive today.

“For many are called, but few are chosen” – Mathew 22:14

OK, what does that mean? Well, in the Greek, the many and the few are the two components of the whole. For example if we have ten of anything that constitutes a whole, then the many could either be 10 or 9 or 8 or 7 or 6 but nothing less, and the few could either be 0 or 1 or 2 or 3 or 4 but nothing more. Furthermore, if it is determined that the many is 8, for example, then the few must be 2. This concept is perfectly illustrated in the parable although its presence may not be immediately obvious. In the parable, the king prepares a wedding feast and invites all his pals to the feast only to have them all blow him off. He then goes out to highways and byways and recruits the street people to fill up his wedding hall. Out of this group, the street people, there is one who shows him disrespect by not wearing the wedding garment, and this guy gets tossed out. So the king tries to fill the hall two times, but the best he can get for all his efforts is the hall’s capacity minus 1. Those who enjoy the feast are the few; those who do not are the many.

Now before we leave the parable let us briefly consider some other hypothetical outcomes:

1. A fight ensued among the street people, and all but one guest got tossed.
2. The king had to toss all the street people out, and get more recruits. Not only that, he had to repeat the selection process again and again until he came up with a handful.

See, the situation could have been much worse; as a matter of fact, when you consider all the scenarios which could fulfill the verse selecting half the total population minus 1 is the most optimistic, nay I say the most merciful, outcome. I believe there is great truth in this parable, and we should all be taking it to heart. Now some may say that I am making a great parable trivial, and I can only say I do not think that is the case:

"Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it.” -- Matthew 7:13-14

So rightly or wrongly let us apply a lesson learned from Mathew to our calculations:

The many = (Total Quantity / 2) +1
The few = (Total Quantity / 2) -1

The above two equations can be simplified when the total quantity is substantially greater, i.e. by several magnitudes, as in this case, than one:

Total Quantity >> 1
The many = Total Quantity / 2
The few = Total Quantity / 2

Soapplying the equations we get:

The few who have ever lived = 53,500,000,000 souls
The transition rate from life to life everlasting of the few = 145,000 souls per day

So now we have two good working numbers to play with, but we need to consider if these numbers should be further honed. For example, should we subtract out the canonized saints from the total few? Why bother? Their number is estimated to be between 6,000 and 20,000, and these numbers are several magnitudes smaller than the population we are dealing with. It is probably best to ignore them. Now I am sure there are people who die and go directly to heaven, but I have no metric for it or any scripture to even try to base or infer a metric. I’ll be first to admit that I am no expert in scripture so I may be missing something obvious. If you are saying to yourself right now “Doesn’t that dummy know about __________!” then I would really love to hear from you. In the meantime I am assuming that all these few are in purgatory. Seems harsh does is not? It is, and I’m doing this to simplify rather than complicate. I ask your forbearance.

OK, so what do we have so far? We have what an engineer might call a back of the envelope calculation. Such calculations are often quickly performed to see if it is worthwhile investing the time and effort necessary to achieve a specific goal. And our goal is to empty Purgatory.

The Catholic Church is almost two thousand years old, and during this time countless Masses, Communions, prayers, indulgences, Benedictions, Rosaries, alms, visits to grave sites, Stations of the Cross and many other devotions have been offered by the faithful for the Holy Souls in Purgatory. There is no doubt in my mind that all these good works have been rewarded, and that perhaps these devotions are so meritorious that it can be stated that each generation redeems the previous one from Purgatory. Prior to the advent of the Catholic Church and in the years before Christ both the Jews and the Pagans prayed for their dead. BUT, for the purpose of obtaining our goal of emptying purgatory by means of our back of the envelope calculation we are going to discount all this effort, and instead focus on just one single devotion or perhaps a better name for it would be movement. This movement is younger than the internet, and it is on the internet. I’m willing to wager that you have never heard of it. It is referred to as MTEP – Mission To Empty Purgatory, and you can find out all about it HERE.

MTEP exclusively uses the prayer referred to as “The Prayer of St. Gertrude the Great” in its mission. This prayer was given to St. Gertrude the Great by our Lord, and if prayer be our weapon then this baby is multi-megaton, and it must stand at the top of our arsenal.

Prayer of St. Gertrude the Great

Eternal Father, I offer Thee the most precious blood of Thy divine son, Jesus, in union with the Masses said throughout the world today, for all the Holy Souls in Purgatory, for sinners everywhere, for sinners in the universal church, those in my own home and within my family.

Amen.

Our Lord told St. Gertrude the GREAT that the above prayer would release 1000 souls from Purgatory each time it is said. The prayer was extended to include living sinners as well.

I first heard of about this prayer on a Catholic Answers Program that was broadcast on WHIC and WLOF about a year or so ago. At that time they would start the show with this prayer, but then for some reason they stopped. This always bothered me a little bit – the fact that they stopped. So before I started writing this piece, I called the Catholic Answers Program and tried to speak with Fr. Rick Poblocki to get his take on the prayer, and also why they stopped using it to open the program. Unfortunately, due to a bad phone connection I was unable to do so, but my questions were relayed to Father Rick. He did make assurances on air that the prayer was legitimate, and to be effective it must be prayed with faith and belief, but I never found out why they decided not to use it to open the show anymore.

So let us press on! How many prayers must be offered to free a number of souls equal to the rate of the few who are transitioning each day?

145,000 souls per day / 1,000 souls per prayer = 145 prayers per day

Once the prayer is memorized, which may take awhile, you will find that the praying of it takes so little time that it is easy to pray without distraction.

It has been estimated that there are somewhere between 800,000,000 and 1,200,000,000 baptized Catholics alive today. Let us assume the lower figure for a moment. If just 6.7% of the Catholics alive today prayed the prayer just one time in their life, then Purgatory would be empty.

So how are those sandbaggers at MTEP doing? (I call them sandbaggers because if you study their website you tend to get the impression that they encourage under reporting.) As of this writing they stand at 54,419,215 prayers completed.

Doing the math:

54,419,215 prayers x 1,000 souls per prayer = 54,419,215,000 souls

MTEP has already exceeded my best estimate of the souls in Purgatory (53,500,000,000) by almost 1 billion.

This brings me back to my original question. Is Purgatory Empty?

Postscript:

I consider this short essay successful if it provokes certain thoughtfulness on your part – a pondering if you will.

I would be very disappointed, and consider it an utter failure if it leads anyone to abandon a prayerful practice because they believe it’s all done and over. It certainly is not! Please remember these calculations are based upon guesses; I try to make them best guesses, but they are essentially guesses. Occasionally, I lector at church and I remember recently reading the story of God’s rebuke to David after he conducted a census. And I pray that he does not rebuke me for conducting an estimate. Rebuke Churchmouse? God rebuked David who was a man -- not a mouse!

RIP Churchmouse 5/2013

A Church Mouse Prayer

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Good morning Lord, It’s me again. I’ll start out with my progress report. Yesterday, I told you that I was going to do this, that, and the other thing.

Well I got this done, but I’ve had some problems with it, and I wish it were in a little bit better shape, so maybe it’s not quite done yet.

Now as to that thing, I haven’t gotten to that yet…

And the other thing, well I forgot all about it until just now.

So Lord, today, I ask You for the graces to help me get something done.

Thank You, for hearing my prayer dear Lord

Amen.

When I pray extemporaneously, it is upon extremely rare occasion that my eloquence reaches a level as high as is illustrated in the above example. Most times, I fall far short. This is why I have always preferred reading prayers in prayer books over rolling my own. In spite of my preferences, I do strive to pray extemporaneously every day, in silence. I consider it an act of humility; as well as an act of mercy for those around me.

When I was an adolescent, I received a notification from my Grandmother that she had enrolled me, for one year, as a member of the St. Joseph’s Guild which was sponsored by the Sisters of St. Joseph at Baden Pa. On the other side of the notice was “The Prayer to St. Joseph”. I have carried this very same prayer with me ever since.

The Prayer to St. Joseph

Oh, St. Joseph, whose protection is so great, so strong, so prompt before the throne of God, I place in you all my interests and desires. Oh, St. Joseph, do assist me by your powerful intercession, and obtain for me from your divine Son all spiritual blessings, through Jesus Christ, our Lord. So that, having engaged here below your heavenly power, I may offer my thanksgiving and homage to the most loving of Fathers. Oh, St. Joseph, I never weary of contemplating you, and Jesus asleep in your arms; I dare not approach while He reposes near your heart. Press Him in my name and kiss His fine head for me and ask him to return the Kiss when I draw my dying breath. St. Joseph, Patron of departing souls - Pray for me.

This prayer was found in the fiftieth year of Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. In 1505 it was sent from the Pope to Emperor Charles when he was going into battle. Whoever shall read this prayer or hear it or keep it about themselves, shall never die a sudden death, or be drowned, not shall poison take effect of them; neither shall they fall into the hands of the enemy; or shall be burned in any fire, or shall be overpowered in battle.

Say for nine mornings for anything you may desire. It has never been known to fail.

IMPRIMATUR: SEPTEMBER 25, 1950

HUGH C. BOYLE, Bishop of Pittsburgh

Now, some copies of this prayer that I have seen carry the advisory after that last sentence: “So be careful what you ask for”; however, the copy that carries an imprimatur is shown above. I also note that the request to have St. Joseph kiss the infant Jesus and to ask for the return of that kiss at the hour of death is a pretty stout request in and of itself. What else could you ask for?

RIP Churchmouse 5/2013

Don’t Dust the Devil’s Tail (or Sister Maureen Thomas locks horns with Madison Avenue)

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It was 1:10 P.M. Friday, December 17, 1954, and Sister Maureen Thomas’ second grade class had just returned from their lunch break in the cafeteria followed by recess in the school yard, and was looking forward to the end of the school week, just hours away. The sixty seven members of the second grade class were in a kick back mood, and Sister Maureen Thomas opened the second drawer on the right side of her desk from which she extracted a small book covered with the brown paper from a shopping bag. Oh boy, it was story time!

The story concerned itself with the adventure of a boy named Homer, not to be confused with the author of the Iliad and the Odyssey, who, out of the goodness of his heart, had volunteered to help in cleaning the church one Saturday morning. Given a dust cloth and a feather duster, Homer proceeded to dust everything in sight, and I mean everything.

Evidently the church must have been vast, because just as he was thinking he was through with his work, Homer came across an alcove he had never seen before. In that alcove stood a statue of St. Michael the Archangel with his sword drawn in his right hand, and standing with his left foot upon the head of the vanquished Lucifer who lay with his head face down in the mud. Homer noted that the devil’s tail was exceedingly dusty.

Homer paused to look upon the statue for a moment or two, and then proceeded to dust it from the hand of St. Michael which held the pommel of his sword high above the scene to the tip of the devil’s tail which snaked down the side of the base of the statue. From top to bottom Homer cleaned that statue until it was spic and span. When Homer was done, he went outside to shake out his dusters near the side entrance to the church. He was turning to reenter to the church, when he heard a noise.

“Psst.”

“What was that?” Homer thought to himself as he quickly glanced around for the source of the sound. Finding nothing out of the ordinary except perhaps for the length that his shadow cast on the pavement, Homer noticed that it was much later in the day than he thought.

“You had best be getting on home, Homer.” The kindly Father Denney spoke in a soft, quiet voice, as Homer returned the dusters to him.

“It’s getting late, so go straight home; make haste, and don’t talk to strangers.”

“Yes, Father”, Homer replied.

Homer turned away from Father Denney, and left the church by its main entrance. As he was walking down the front steps he heard the sound again.

“Psst. Come over here, by the bushes.”

In a moment, Father Denney’s admonitions were forgotten, and as Homer approached the side of the church, out stepped an extremely well dressed and polished looking gentleman who looked very familiar to Homer. He had seen this man before, but he could not remember where or when.

“Who are you?” Homer asked.

“You don’t recognize me?” The stranger seemed somewhat taken aback.

“I don’t, but you do look familiar, somehow.”

“Well no matter, no matter at all, you see, you did something nice for me, and I would like to do something for you in return. Come along now, follow me.”

Homer started walking with the gentleman, but after walking a few blocks Homer became hesitant, and finally stopped and asked the question, “Where are we going?”

“Over to the island in the middle of the river. See here, we are almost at the bridge.”

The strange gentleman stopped walking, turned around to face Homer, paused for a moment, and then from under his overcoat produced an orange box which he handed to Homer. The box was lettered in an art deco style with the words “Lionel Electric Trains” and “The Lionel Corporation New York …. Chicago” on its sides; the end flap of the box was marked “No. 2353P Santa Fe Diesel Power Car”.

“That box contains the lead locomotive of this year’s top of the line Lionel train set, ‘The SUPER-STREAMLINER’. The rest of the train set is waiting for you on the island together with a transformer, some very nice accessories and additional track and switches. They are yours for the taking so just come on over and get them.”

Now Homer was very familiar with that toy train. Lionel was using it to promote its entire product line on television that year. The entire package as described by the gent would cost Homer’s father a month’s wages. Homer knew that such a toy would not be under the tree this Christmas or for that matter any Christmas. “But what have I done that you’re giving it to me?” Homer asked.

The gent paused for a moment or two and then started across the bridge. Glancing over his shoulder back at Homer he said, “I’m giving it to you because you dusted my tail.”

“You must understand, Homer that my statue has stood in that alcove for years and years undusted. People go in there and buff up Michael all the time, but as for me, well let’s just say most lack the necessary enthusiasm. Homer, look at me. I’m a class act. After all, I am the Prince of this World. I have my standards, and I was really getting quite dusty. I was getting to the point where I was seriously considering doing the job myself, but I have an aversion to visiting churches, and most especially, uh, um, Catholic churches. Because of your conscientious cleaning, you have spared me that task. I consider you one of my own now, and I take care of my own in very special ways. Behold, we have reached the island. Please, look around -- I designed it myself you know, and I designed it just for you. I have filled it with every conceivable toy, diversion and confection that a boy of your age and standing could ever desire. Walk around. Take whatever you fancy! Do whatever you want! Eat whatever you like!”

At this point in her story telling, there was a knock at the classroom door, and Sister Maureen Thomas was compelled to leave the room to confer with another Sister. While she was away I took the interruption as an opportunity to reflect upon the story.

I did not know it at the time, but 1954 was the peak of the market for toy trains in America, and the Lionel Corporation of New York City, New York was the largest toy company in the world. In spite of its television commercials, the Lionel catalog which was widely distributed and given away free was Lionel’s main marketing tool. I was very familiar with the contents of the 1954 Lionel Catalog, and so was every other boy in that second grade class. It was a masterpiece of the toy train marketer’s art. It was profusely illustrated, with every illustration in full color. The front page cover of the catalog featured a proud father on the extreme right hand side of the page smiling at his glassy eyed son on the extreme left hand side. Between them stood an array of some of the finest toy train locomotives Lionel was selling that year. The train sets contained in the pages of the catalog were illustrated in real world settings, and each illustration spanned the width of two catalogue pages, almost two feet! The illustrations were so spectacular, that I would often become disappointed upon seeing the real thing in the toy store, but not too disappointed. These trains, when running, commanded your attention. They clinked; they clanked; they clunked. Most had either a horn or a whistle which was loud enough to be extremely annoying to sisters, mothers, aunts, grandmothers and girl cousins while at the same time thrilling all the rest of the family.

Just three weeks earlier my family and my uncle’s family, four adults and three kids, had squeezed into my father’s sedan for a trip to Gimbels and John Wanamaker on Market Street in Philadelphia. These were Philadelphia’s two largest department stores, and they featured the most spectacular toy departments that I had ever seen in all my childhood, and they made samples of each toy available for the kids to play with. I was in awe, except for one thing. Do you remember the scene in The Christmas Story where Ralphie has to stand in the line to Santa Claus with his little brother? I had to stand in an even longer line in order to escort my little sister to Santa. So, when I considered Homer’s situation on that island, I saw Homer in the midst of something that combined the best features of both of these stores’ toy departments – without the line to Santa. All things considered, that island seemed like the place to be for a kid like me. In the hip argot of my early childhood, it was nifty.

Sister Maureen Thomas came back into the classroom; picked up the book, and continued with the storytelling.

“Yes”, continued the Devil, “take as much as you desire, but you must be prepared to cross the bridge by no later than six P.M. as measured by the island’s clock. Do you see it over there atop that tall tower? Here let me have the box I gave you and I’ll pack it up with the rest of the train set and the accessories. Then I’ll put it all in a back pack for you. That will make it easier for you to carry.”

“What happens if I don’t get back here by six?”

The Devil paused in his packing. “When that clock strikes six this island and everything on it will sink into the river. Get along now, you still have time to enjoy it. Just remember to be back here by six. Now, go have fun.”

Homer started his exploration of the island, and he couldn’t believe his eyes. For every toy that he had ever seen, ever wished for, or ever possessed there were at least a hundred more on the island that were even more desirable. There was at least one example of every toy that was ever made by every toy manufacturer that ever existed in the world. Homer came to a place where there were hundreds of Radio Flyer and Greyhound wagons including a forty five foot high “Coaster Boy” identical to the one Radio Flyer built for the 1933 Chicago World’s fair. He quickly grabbed two of the larger ones on display, and proceeded to fill them up with the most wonderful toys he had ever seen. Homer became so preoccupied from racing around the island with his wagons in his quest of the absolutely best toys he forgot to keep his eye on the tower clock; that is, until it started to chime six o’clock. That’s when Homer felt the ground shaking beneath his feet. The island like some enormous mechanical automaton started slowly sinking into the river!

“Quickly!” the Devil cried, “you have just enough time to don this backpack. There you go! Here, you still have some room in your pockets! Take these fine lead cast toy soldiers. That’s right; stuff them in your pockets. Here take some more; they’ll go great with that train set. You know those wagons were a smart idea, Homer, but they aren’t nearly half full; let me pile some more toys on top of what you have already gathered.”

When the Devil was finished with Homer; Homer could hardly move, and his wagons were loaded to the breaking point with enough toys to last a lifetime. The Devil had said so himself. Homer had a good feeling about the Devil, and as he ambled out a few dozen paces on the bridge that connected the island to the mainland he turned around to thank him, but the Devil had disappeared. It was then when he heard the voice of Father Denney calling to him.

“Homer! Homer! Come quickly! The bridge is sinking into the river!”

It was then that Homer noticed that his feet were getting wet.

Homer pressed on tugging at those two large wagons as the water level rose from his ankles to his knees. At this point the wagons’ wheel bearings started to fail, and it became increasingly more difficult for Homer to pull his treasures to safety. By the time he was halfway across the bridge, the wagon wheels had failed completely.

“I’m going to lose my toys!” Homer wailed.

Homer salvaged the best toys that he could carry from his wagons, and abandoning the rest, trudged on. The water was now at waste level. He pressed on making very slow progress as the water rose to chest level.

“Drop what you’re carrying and run for it, Homer!” Father Denney shouted.

With the greatest of effort Homer cast the toys he was carrying into the surging river. Now the water was over his head. He peeled off the backpack, and cast it aside. Then, finally, he reached into his pockets and emptied their contents into the water. He slowly started to rise to the surface of the water.

Two strong arms grabbed Homer, and the next thing he knew was that he had been raised up upon Father Denney’s shoulders and was being swiftly carried to safety.

Sister Maureen Thomas closed her little book, and placed it back in the drawer. “All right class, who can tell me? What is the moral of the story?”

The moral was one of the common attributes of these second grade stories. Every story had a moral, and if it didn’t it was not considered worthy of telling. Existentialism was a non starter in Sister Maureen Thomas’ second grade class.

“What is the moral of this story?” Sister asked a second time.

I had been thinking about the whole situation Homer went through, and how it could have been avoided. How could the whole affair have been nipped in the bud? What would Homer have to do or not do in order to avoid the situation that he had gotten himself into? All of a sudden it came to me. Eureka! I knew the answer. Quickly I raised my hand and began waving it around frantically. Thus I was called upon to supply the answer.

“The moral of the story,” I said, “is don’t dust the devil’s tail – that’s what started the whole mess to begin with.”

“What’s the moral of this story?” Sister asked a third time.

Finally, when there were no further answers forthcoming, Sister spoke. “Homer was only able to be saved after he abandoned all the toys that the devil had given him. In this world, we need to do likewise. Abandon your toys, the things of this world, and be saved.”

Obviously, I have never forgotten that story; although I am sure I got some of the details wrong. So this Christmas, I’m passing it on to you. Merry Christmas!

RIP Churchmouse 5/2013

My Jesus, Mercy

Way back in the Fifties, when I was a child of eight, I learned about indulgences albeit to a limited extent.

We were taught about partial and plenary indulgences, and in the front of our trusty Baltimore Catechism were pages of common prayers which listed the partial indulgence, if any, attributed to the prayer. The indulgence of each prayer, if any, was in a stated duration of physical penance ranging from 300 days to 10 Years. Although I did not know this at the time, I believe that the technical name for these durations was “the determination of days and years”, but that term was absent from my Baltimore Catechism.

When I think of physical penance, I think of the fifth century. I am thinking of myself kneeling outside of the cathedral, on the cobblestones, in the middle of winter, in the snow, wearing sackcloth and ashes, renouncing my sins and asking forgiveness of all who pass. And I’m not even going to discuss the pigeons. Hey, that’s tough stuff!

Those members of my class who were destined to become MBA’s in later years quickly concluded that the most indulgence for the least amount of effort consisted in repeatedly praying the ejaculation, “My Jesus, Mercy”. Three words of a total of five syllables were good for 300 days! There was a girl who sat near me in class who kept a book of strokes and slashes indicating the count of her “My Jesus, Mercies”. Whenever, Sister Mary Inviolata, I.H.M. took leave of the class, usually to pow wow with another sister in the hall outside the classroom, that book of hash marks came out and got updated.

In my opinion, the selection of “My Jesus, Mercy” by my third grade class as the go to prayer demonstrated remarkable discernment. The beloved bishop Fulton Sheen once related the story of a man dying of “cancer of the face” who remained, upon his death bed, unrepentant. After refusing the opportunity to confess his sins and receive Viaticum, he ordered Sheen out of his hospital room. Sheen’s last words to the man were “Before you die tonight; please do one thing for me; say ‘My Jesus, Mercy’”. It was later reported to Sheen that after he had left the room, the dying man said the prayer, and then continued repeating it until the time of his death hours later.

Unfortunately, my third grade Baltimore catechism is long gone, but, recently, I was able to obtain an actual Baltimore Catechism No. 3 with a copyright date of 1957. The following information is gleaned from the sections on prayers and on prayers said after mass:

• These prayers are listed without indulgences:

• The Lord’s Prayer
• The Hail Mary
• The Glory Be to the Father
• The Apostles’ Creed
• The Confiteor
• The Morning Offering
• The Regina Coeli (see also below)

• The Blessing before meals is not indulgenced, but the grace after meals is indulgenced (300 days). [How many times have you said the blessing before meals, and then forgot the grace after meals?]

• All the prayers referred to as the acts (Faith, Hope, Charity and Contrition) are indulgenced. (3 years)

• The sign of the cross is indulgenced. (3 years. With holy water, 7 years.) [I have heard the argument that it is unnecessary to make the sign of the cross with holy water upon leaving the church. This argument ignores the fact that even if we leave church in a sinless state, the temporal punishment due to sin remains and by blessing ourselves as we leave the church some of that temporal punishment is removed.]

• Hail Holy Queen ( 5 years)

So what about that ten year indulgence?

There were three prayers listed with ten year indulgences:

1. The Saint Michael Prayer – The famous prayer of Pope Leo XIII, and, when I was a kid, it was said immediately after every mass.
2. The Angelus -- The Angelus is a prayer said specifically at 6 am, noon and 6 pm. Ten years indulgence for each recitation amounts to 30 years a day. That’s a lifetime of physical penance for an early middle ages kind of guy or gal, and probably a few lifetimes for you or me. (How long do you think you would last out there on the cobblestones?)
3. The Regina Coeli when said at Eastertide in place of the Angelus.

How we view indulgences changed in the Sixties.

While, in the Fifties, Sister Mary Inviolata’s third grade class had a very clear picture of what those days and years meant and how they related to physical penance which is performed here on earth, by the time we get to the Sixties the perception of the durations morphed from days of physical penance here on earth into days off from purgatory. So three hundred days of physical penance morphs directly into three hundred days off from a sentence to purgatory? I don’t think so. But what does it mean to spend a day in purgatory? I contend that, you cannot answer that question unless you have been there and done that, and if you have been there and done that then what are you doing here? The important thing worth noting is that the people’s perceptions changed, either due to misunderstanding or poor catechesis, but the teaching never did!

No matter, because in 1968 Pope Paul VI removed the days and years from all partial indulgences.

The document that did this was entitled “INDULGENTIARUM DOCTRINA (Apostolic Constitution On Indulgences)”. You can find it here.

What follows is from chapter five section 12 paragraph 4:

Regarding partial indulgences, with the abolishment of the former determination of days and years, a new norm or measurement has been established which takes into consideration the action itself of the faithful Christian who performs a work to which an indulgence is attached.

It would be nice to have a metric; metrics allow for rational decision making. The above paragraph seems to hint at a new norm or measurement, but consider the very next paragraph in the document:

Since by their acts the faithful can obtain, in addition to the merit which is the principal fruit of the act, a further remission of temporal punishment in proportion to the degree to which the charity of the one performing the act is greater, and in proportion to the degree to which the act itself is performed in a more perfect way, it has been considered fitting that this remission of temporal punishment which the Christian faithful acquire through an action should serve as the measurement for the remission of punishment which the ecclesiastical authority bountifully adds by way of partial indulgence.

Somehow, that wasn’t the kind of metric I was expecting.

The last two sections of the encyclical are devoted to Norms. Here is N-13:

n.13—The Enchiridion Indulgentiarium [collection of indulgenced prayers and works] is to be revised with a view to attaching indulgences only to the most important prayers and works of piety, charity and penance.

At the very end of that document, “Enchiridion of Indulgences”, in an appendix, appears the following section:

APPENDIX: PIOUS INVOCATIONS
In regard to any invocation, the following observations are to be noted:
1) An invocation, as far as indulgences are concerned, is no longer considered a work, distinct and complete in itself, but as complementing an action, by which the faithful raise their heart and mind with humble confidence to God in performing their duties or bearing the trials of life. Hence, a pious invocation perfects the inward elevation; both together are as a precious jewel joined to one's ordinary actions to adorn them, as salt added to them to season them properly.

A bit further down in this section is the only reference to my third grade prayer that can be found in the entire document:

Examples of Invocations in Customary Use [Other invocations, as expressed in the vernacular, may be found in commonly used prayer-books. For example, in English, My Jesus, mercy (proposed by St. Leonard of Port Maurice); …]

I was able to find an example in keeping with the spirit of the Enchiridion of Indulgences, you can find it here . If you take the link you will discover that my little third grade prayer has become the responsorial line in a litany, and I suppose there it fulfills its role as salt, but I cannot help thinking that, sadly, its best years are behind it. Litanies are great when recited en masse by the faithful, and everybody is on the same page, but they are not simple prayers. Quick now! How many litanies can you recite from memory? The days may well be gone when such a simple prayer could stir the imagination of a third grade class, or save the soul of a sinner on his deathbed.

A Postscript

“…Ask and you will receive…”—Jn 16:24. Within hours of finishing the paragraph where I asked about spending a day in purgatory, I found myself in the back of St. Peter’s in LeRoy scanning the pamphlet racks. A title caught my eye – “Heaven, Hell and Purgatory according to passages from the diary of St. Maria Faustina Kowalska (1905 – 1938)”. I took a well thumbed copy which appeared to be the last one from the slot. In the section of this pamphlet titled “Purgatory”, St. Faustina is ordered by her Guardian Angel to follow the angel into Purgatory where she meets with some of the holy souls who suffer there. Afterwards, she is summoned to the judgment seat of God where she is allowed to see the complete condition of her soul. Now, keep in mind the remark attributed to Bishop Sheen about hearing nuns' confessions being akin to being stoned to death with popcorn. Jesus tells her, “You are guilty of one day of fire in purgatory”. Then He gives her a choice “Suffer here and now in Purgatory, or for a short while on earth.” Faustina, proving to be the saint she is, elects to suffer both. Jesus, proving to be the merciful God He is, sends her back to earth telling her, “You will suffer much, but not for long”.

RIP Churchmouse 5/2013