By JOE SIXPACK
A young student named Francis came to St. Philip Neri one day and told him he was going to study law. “What a happy man I am! I’m going to study and become the best lawyer I can.”
“And then what?” asked Fr. Philip.
“I’ll become a great lawyer and win fame for my ability to argue in court.”
“And then what?”
“Then I’ll become wealthy and build a beautiful mansion for myself.”
“And then what?”
“Then I’ll marry and live a comfortable life to a ripe old age.”
“Francis, then what?” the saintly priest asked again.
Francis didn’t know what else to say. After some thought, he said, “Then I’ll die like everybody else.”
“And then what, Francis?”
Francis was disturbed, far from the elation he felt when he first approached St. Philip. Wow! What a buzz kill. He couldn’t answer the saint’s final question. Thinking about this question made Francis change all his life’s plans for the future. Thanks to St. Philip Neri’s repeated question, Francis later became a priest.
St. Philip’s singular question, asked until there were no answers left to give, is a question we should all be asking ourselves. It’s a question I’ve been asking myself a lot lately. At this writing, it’s only been two weeks since my eldest son died — quite unexpectedly — the boy was about to celebrate his 38th birthday. He didn’t die in a car crash or of cancer or of anything expected by anyone. He simply didn’t wake up one morning.
It’s not natural for a man to outlive his son. You expect to die with your children . . . all of them . . . surrounding your bed to tell you good-bye. That didn’t happen for him. But you can be sure that I pray for the state of my son’s soul every single day. I’ve had the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass celebrated for him numerous times.
He’s always on my mind, and I ache when I think about the state of his soul when he died. As you know, I’m a convert. My son wasn’t a Catholic, but he was a Christian nonetheless. Despite that he was a Christian, he made a lot of choices that were bad, and many of them left me little to take pride in. He did, however, give me two wonderful grandchildren, one of whom in turn made me a great grandfather just weeks before my son’s death.
Still, I pray for the repose of his soul daily. I suppose I will until the day when I have to be judged myself.
That my son failed to awaken one morning, and my concern over the state of his immortal soul, has made me very much afraid for the state of my own soul. My son’s death reminded me of how precarious life is, that it can end without warning. I’m a great grandfather now, and great grandfathers know they’re living on the back-side of life. But my son was yet a young man. You are young, are you not? I know I don’t feel like an old man, but I am. I doubt you feel old either. Perhaps you think as my son did . . . as I have . . . that there is all the time in the world.
What will Jesus say to me when I stand before Him at the close of this life? As man, from the cross He suffered immensely for our sins. As God, He saw all of human history — past, present, and future — simultaneously. Every sin any of us has ever committed made Christ in His humanity suffer even more. Of course, all of our good acts eased His suffering. However, the evil of our lives outweighed the good and were unbearable for Him. After all, He died long before the two who were sentenced to die with Him, so our sins killed Him.
Christ’s judgment of us will be very exacting. Each individual soul will be judged on the good and evil we have done — all our thoughts, desires, words, actions, and omissions — from the time we were old enough to know right from wrong. All of them. From the beginning.
Once each of us is judged, our soul (which is really who we are, as the body is just the earthly home of our soul) will either be rewarded with eternal life in Heaven, punished in Purgatory until cleansed perfectly for Heaven, or condemned to an eternal damnation in Hell. The reward or punishment we deserve will be carried into effect immediately after our particular judgment.
Most of us can honestly say we’re not bad people. Most of us can honestly say we’ve given life for Christ that old college try. Most of us believe we will go straight to Heaven when we die. Of course, the “most of us” who believe that are lying to ourselves. It doesn’t work that way. You see, we have to obey Jesus in all things, not just what is convenient or what we like.
In order to go straight to Heaven, we have to be perfect. Yes, you can become perfect. Jesus said so: “You must become perfect, as your Father in heaven is perfect” (Matt. 5:48). Only those who are perfect may enter Heaven — “Nothing unclean shall enter heaven” (Rev. 21:27). Even our tiniest sins and imperfections keep us out of Heaven immediately after death. That’s why God gave us Purgatory, so we can be perfected after death if we die in a state of grace but have yet to do penance in this life for our imperfections.
But how clean is your conscience? Do you obey all that Jesus commands through the Church He established to be His authority on Earth? Or do you pick and choose what to obey, like you’re walking through a cafeteria to pick and choose what you want for lunch? Do you dress so as to intentionally attract the attention of the opposite sex? Do you and your spouse participate in artificial contraception? Do you put “things” before God? Do you support the Church from your resources? Are you lax about attending Mass — arriving late, leaving early, or simply not attending when there is something else you prefer to do? Do you use God’s name carelessly in any of its forms? Do you obey all just laws? Do you criticize others? This list of questions could go on and on ad infinitum.
Purgatory is not a place to strive for. . . it’s a place to be avoided. A wise man once said that it’s better to shoot for the moon so you at least hit the top of the telephone pole, because if you aim for the top of the telephone pole you’re likely to shoot a hole in your foot.
So it’s infinitely better to obey Jesus’ command to become perfect and fail that test with a very short time in Purgatory than to live the very least of what Jesus and His Church asks of us and find ourselves in Purgatory until the end of time . . . or missing the top of the telephone pole altogether and never knowing anything but eternity in Hell.
Let’s not forget that Jesus also told us, “I know your works: You are neither cold nor hot. Would that you were cold or hot! So because you are lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I will spew you out of my mouth” (Rev. 3:15-16). Just a little food for thought.
If you have a question or comment you can reach out to me through the “Ask Joe” page of JoeSixpackAnswers.com, or you can email me at Joe@CantankerousCatholic.com.
Hey, how would you like to see things like this article every week in your parish bulletin as an insert? You or your pastor can learn more about how to do that by emailing me at Joe@CantankerousCatholic.com.
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