Prayers for the dead. . .

These past few weeks I have been in the midst of putting all the family photos into a nice big album, as a present for my Mum when I go to visit her in June (as she doesn't understand the world of blogging yet she will not be reading this).

Photographs of all sorts of long dead ancestors going back to the 1860s have been put in and I am copying each one to put on a CD, for ease of reprinting.

It is a strange thing to look at all those people, long dead. You get immersed in their celebrations. Here is everyone enjoying a picnic, laughing into the camera. In another they are in their best clothes for a wedding. In yet another they have decided to have a formal portrait taken and stare solemnly at us from the make-believe scenery of the photographer's studio. Babies, pets, children, grandparents, houses, at home, in the countryside, family groups, individuals, black and white, colour: It is all there. The partially recorded history of a family.

You end up thinking about them a lot. You remember stories of what they were like. Facts that don't appear in photographs. Some were good, some were not so good.

And then there is their Faith.

My family is somewhat unusual in that they are a veritable all-sorts when it comes to Faith.

In common with everyone else I have eight great-grandparents: Four were Church of England, one a Baptist convert, one was Catholic (from a Recusant family and from whom comes my own Catholic Faith) one Jewish and one Atheist (son of Congregationalist Lay Preachers, who turned totally against any belief and tried to order it that at his death he was to be buried by the roadside rather than in a churchyard). Further back and there are even Puritans as well as followers of Archbishop Laud.

Some were luke-warm in faith, others fervent. One was the embodiment of the Beatitudes, while another was the total opposite by all accounts. In the distant past one was heavily fined for his faith, another was a veritable chameleon dependant upon who was in the ascent.

But each one lived their lives, made their choices and now await final judgement.

I have been specially thinking about this since reading a post that Adrienne wrote some time ago regarding 'abandoned' prayer cards up for sale on the internet and which she purchases.

Adrienne is going to send me one of these prayer cards and I shall adopt that person to remember in my prayers, especially on their anniversary.

But what about these great grandparents of mine.

I know of no prayer cards for them. I must remember to pray for them and for all my ancestors.

We light candles and we say prayers for those who are ill or who have recently died. We do the same on anniversaries. I always pray for my father on his anniversary (and every day actually) and I have started to do the same for my grandmother - but many are forgotten.

Praying for the deceased is important. Praying for the conversion of sinners is important. Our prayers, when sincere, are always important.

How many of our prayers have helped set souls free from purgatory?

Many?

Some?

None, because I have never considered them in my prayers?

I must increase my prayers for the souls in Purgatory and I am going to write a list of those ancestors whose anniversaries I know, so that I can remember them and pray for them on those dates.

P.S.

While I was saying my Evening Prayers last night I realised that I do make mention of deceased family members, in an all-inclusive way, in the closing prayer of the De Profundis.