A
former teacher of mine tweeted a link to
this article, which I found quite provocative (unsurprising, as this teacher's specialty has always been goading his students toward meaningful thought). The author and I are coming from such different mindsets that we can hardly have a conversation, but I'm going to respond anyway.
The author asserts that ornate, lasting grave markers are a mark of selfishness, that they "represent an almost universal human self-indulgence." Professor MacCulloch lauds the older practice in English churchyards of marking graves with simple wooden planks that "gently decayed back into the soil, making way for the next generation of the dead." His preference for the unadorned and impermanent puts me in mind of something written recently by remarkably talented artist
Matthew Alderman:
"If
Puritanism is the fear that someone somewhere is having fun,
progressivism must be the fear that someone somewhere is enjoying
beauty." Professor MacCulloch (a "progressive," I'm willing to bet, judging by the digression at the end of the article railing against the use of fossil fuels) seems to support the idea that previous generations must be dealt with and then forgotten, pushed aside (or beneath, as it were) in favor of the next, with the inexorable march of time leading us always onward to better things. Why create lasting memorials to Bygones when the New will always be better? Where is the value in erecting something beautiful, when that space could be reused?
This article came at an interesting time. It is the first week of November, which the Church sets aside especially for devotions in
aid of the Holy Souls in Purgatory. This is why I say Professor MacCulloch and I are too far apart really to have a conversation:
Tombs represent an almost universal human self-indulgence, a longing to
perpetuate individual existence, if possible, for ever. Not just
Christians have felt that way; the impulse goes right back to the
pyramids of Egypt and beyond. For Christians, it’s illogical, because
Christianity is based on the principle that there is not much that you
and I can do to influence our fate after death; it’s all in the hands of
God. In any case, if you believe in life after death, the soul is
nowhere near those graves sealed by granite and marble. So in Christian
culture, an ornamental grave really is self-indulgence.
The Church says otherwise. Certainly, all
is in God's hands, but prayer has real power. The souls of the faithful departed endure the purifying fires of Purgatory so they may be made clean and then enter into the ineffable joy of the Beatific Vision. That process can be sped along when members of the Church Militant beg for the application of Redeeming Grace on behalf of the Holy Souls.
I spent a lovely morning yesterday walking with my girls around Nashville's Catholic cemetery. We wandered and prayed for the souls of those buried there, and we enjoyed the beauty of the statues, especially in the older sections. Rita Mae asked why we were there, and I told her about the wonderful gift we can give the Holy Souls by praying for them, especially during this week. She was captivated by the monuments; she flitted from plot to plot, asking me to read the inscriptions to her and then pausing to pray by name for each person represented there. It was beautiful.
I believe the souls for whom we prayed benefited from the indulgences we gained for them. I do not believe that the monuments they built benefit only those memorialized. I know that I was edified both by their aesthetic merit and by the work of charity in which they encouraged me to participate. I know they were an aid in teaching my daughter about prayer, charity, and God's mercy. This isn't the lesson Professor MacCulloch would have us draw from that "crowd of stones," but I daresay it's a better one.
. Apparently Tutu Pig doesn't know Olivia, but RM plans to introduce them. Tutu turned three on Rita Mae's birthday and lives in a house "pretend across the street." She and Rita Mae like to play with toys together.
