Praying for the Dead

On November 2^nd of 2011, All Souls Day, I served as an acolyte for my first Solemn High Requiem Mass according to the Extraordinary form of the Roman Rite.  This was a particularly important occasion for me since it allowed me to pray for the repose of my recently deceased family members, most particularly my Dad, who was a devout Catholic and ordained deacon.  Sadly, my Dad was not the only member of my family to recently pass away, and my reflections on this and the meaning of life have led me in the past few months to post blog entries about justification and my relationship with the deaconate. 

The main purpose for the time being is my reflection on the Mass of the dead in the Extraordinary form.  While I always knew that it was the appropriate color for Requiems, I had never experienced black vestments before, other than in videos and pictures.  Likewise, the use of the catafalque as something of a stand-in for an actual body was quite the experience.  The most interesting aspect, which I wasn’t prepared for, was the focus of the Mass.

Most of us are familiar with the Ordinary form requiem, where especially in the United States, the vestments tend to be white, reflecting joy and hope in the resurrection.  While the official color for these Masses is in fact black, most people feel that black is too negative a color and there exists an indult in the United States for alternatives such as white or purple.  This highlights a major distinction between the two forms of the Roman Rite.  In the older form, the use of black vestments and the singing of the Dies Irae call to mind the fact that death is a terrifying event due to the imminent judgment of our souls.  We therefore pray that God be merciful on our souls and we provide the souls of our dead with the graces needed for their salvation.  Hence we pray for the dead.  In the newer form, the Dies Irae is no longer used, and the focus tends to be hope in the promised resurrection of Christ’s faithful departed.  This brings to mind the image of the great multitude mentioned in Revelation 7:9.

Is there essentially any problem with either view of death?  I venture to say no.    Unfortunately, the laxity of many priests and the poor catechesis of the laity lead many to wrongly believe that our salvation and justification is an assured thing.  We oftentimes tend to canonize our deceased right away, without any thought of the possibility of damnation.  Now this isn’t to say that we should focus on damnation and assume that anybody we know is in hell.  My Dad always used to say that he needed to prepare himself for the chance that if he made it to heaven that he could very well have to share it with people that the world assumes would go to hell.  This is because God’s wisdom and mercy are not our wisdom and mercy.  Only God can judge.  Along these same lines, we can’t simply assume that anyone is in heaven.

To bring this to a close, essentially the worst thing you can do for your loved ones is to stop praying for their souls.  I oftentimes say to myself, what if the thing that decides in favor of someone going to heaven is that one last Hail Mary that I say for them?  Now some people may ask what happens if the person we’re praying for is already in paradise?  Are our prayers therefore wasted?  I find it hard to believe that a prayer, when prayed for the right reasons, is ever wasted.  If our loved ones are in heaven, then I hope that they are praying for us who are still alive.  And that’s the comfort we hope for.