Visit your dead friends

If this was an ordinary year, the Octave of All Saints — the weeklong stretch when the Church offers a plenary indulgence for souls in purgatory, obtained in part by visiting a cemetery and praying for the dead — would be over by the time you’re reading this column. The period is typically Nov. 1 through Nov. 8.

This year’s a little different. The Vatican has extended this opportunity across the whole of November.

Which is great. Indulgences are an amazing — though highly misunderstood — aspect of our Catholic patrimony. We should take seriously the opportunity to obtain them for our beloved dead. But as much as November is a month typically dedicated to praying for the dead, it’s also a time to be reminded of the importance of praying for the dead whatever the day or month, indulgences or not.

It is one of the strangest, most beautiful mysteries of our faith. God, who is all-powerful and all-loving and really doesn’t need our help for anything, nonetheless desires our participation in “working out our salvation.” And not only our own, but those of our loved ones. Just as the saints ceaselessly pray for us, we are called to pray constantly for the faithful departed in purgatory, so they might enter into perfect union with God. Again, not because God needs us to, but because we become more god-like in the process.

Visiting the dead can some like a grandiose event, probably because many of us — myself included — live lives that are all too often neatly and nicely completely separated from them. But making a trip to the family plot at the cemetery need not be any more dramatic or out-of-the-ordinary than a visit to a friend’s house across town.

Moved by the Church’s timely reminder to pray for the dead, I decided to visit the graves of my grandma and grandpa (and a good number of other Liedls and O’Briens) at Roselawn Cemetery this past week. Because more intercessors are better than one, I also extended the invite to other living family members. My Aunt Kaky, who lives locally, was able to join, and so was my dad, who happened to be in town. My brother David even randomly FaceTimed me during our visit (ironically, dressed in a skeleton T-shirt he’d worn for Halloween), and he and my niece Hazel and nephew Luca joined in our prayers and reminiscing.

At the cemetery, we laid flowers and sprinkled holy water on our family members’ headstones, spent some time fondly remembering them, and then prayed a decade of the rosary, mediating upon Christ’s resurrection and asking God to continue to pour his mercy out on our beloved dead. There was something especially powerful about praying for those to whom we, in many ways, owed our own existence. I was moved to see my dad and aunt praying for their own parents, asking God to give the fullness of life to those who gave them life in the first place. Those who had received now took their turn in giving.

In many ways, the visit was like a little family reunion — not only with three generations present, but six, from Frederick Lynch all the way down to Luca Liedl. It was short and sweet — we even ate some apple pie after prayer, which I thought was a little strange at first until my aunt informed me that picnicking among the dead was a common practice when she was growing up.

You don’t have to bring apple pie — but I strongly encourage you to visit your dead friends and family. Remember them, express gratitude for their time on earth, and pray that they might soon be fully united to God. November’s a great time to make the trip, especially this year with the indulgence period extended — but I’m sure they’d appreciate your visit and prayers whenever you can make them.

Liedl writes from the Twin Cities.