No it’s not from Beetlejuice. Or a Nicolas Cage movie. Or some Evil Dead version of Office Space. The Office of the Dead is the liturgy read at mass each November 2nd, which is All Souls’ Day. It’s also known as Day of the Dead, not to be confused with the unfortunate George Romero movie. On this day many Catholics believe they can pray their loved ones out of Purgatory.
“The Catholic religion is based on works, and the theological idea of Purgatory has been accepted as a means of paying for sins, and buying your way into Heaven.”
As I’m getting older, I’m beginning to understand the workings of the Catholic religion (from the outside) a bit more, which helps me make sense of the often bizarre and inconsistent workings of my mother’s family. For them, the rules are rarely absolute or global. The rules can change daily, or be bent or worked around. If the price is right. The rules don’t apply if you pray, or curse, enough. The rules can be outright broken…if you seem to feel guilty enough, and make a pass at penance. With this wishy-washiness, it’s no wonder I longed for my Dad’s unambiguous rule of law. The clear-cut, ideal morality that he manages to live by, and up to. While I continually let myself down, when I succumbed to my maternal clan’s unique brand of moral relativism. Don’t you love it when you’re writing a post and it goes off in an entirely different direction than you expected? So, moving right along. The next post won’t mention anything about Catholicism. I swear. Unless I break my own rules.