lenten caves and purgatory possibilities

We’ve been on a road trip to Alabama... needed to check on Michael’s 94 year old father. He is living in a small assisted living/nursing home in the community where he is remembered and cared for. His home is near one of the many interim pastorates from his retirement and we took him to worship Sunday. Two or three times a month, someone will come and take him to church. Church has always been his reason for being and at church, for a little while, you can see bits of the old pastor shining through the fog of dementia. He hugs the ladies, waves at the children, shakes hands with the men and calls out to the people he sees. While leaning on his cane, he surveys all he sees and for him, it is all good. We stay until the last car drives away, the last hug has been given and we make our way slowly to the car. The animation leaves his face and like a dark, grey cloud, the full weight of his age and dementia settle down on him once again. Being around those who are in the last part of their life always prompts my feeler/thinker/soul to ponder the ways of life and the life after.
I always thought the Catholic concept of purgatory was a little odd... good Baptist girl that I was. I have changed my mind... the concept is valid but the location and timing are off. More of us than not will have some extended time in the land of the old. We will be limited by physical constraints, mental restrictions, and we will lose some of our personal freedoms. I used to see that as a curse... much like my earlier image of purgatory. During this time of the in-between there is room for the Holy One to come and help us get ready for what is next. We have an opportunity to remember, give thanks, grieve our sins and failures, prepare for the final letting go.
I watched my dad live in purgatory for three years while he suffered with his blood disease... regular transfusions... renewed energy for a short while followed by the inevitable decline... periods of almost normal that grew shorter and shorter as the disease progressed. It was not an easy time for his soul or his body. But during that time, he became wiser, gentler, kinder... he remembered, gave thanks, let go of the done and the undone, prepared for death and new life. Perhaps purgatory is not defined so much by age or illness or after death... perhaps we have purgatory with us all our lives and we don’t know it... recognize it... claim its gifts... use it wisely.
As I survey my life during Lent, I can see periods of time that have been time apart... hard times for my soul... times when I have flamboyantly failed... times when I have struggled to keep my body and soul together... times when my life seemed to have no steady direction or course... times when I wondered what the ultimate meaning of my life was... purgatories unlimited. Always... always... there was the solid ground of God underneath my shaky feet. In times of despair and grief, anger and loss, boredom and busyness, purgatory or heaven on earth... I can see now how God was present... giving me time to work on my soul... giving me the tools I needed and the occasional kick in the rear to keep me moving.
The story of the prophet Elijah in I Kings 19 is my story... maybe your story, too. In fear for his life after killing all Queen Jezebel’s pet priests, he fled to a cave. God let him go to the desert where he complained he had had enough... he was ready to die. When he woke up from his sleep with the touch of an angel, food and water awaited him. God sent him on a forty day journey... forty days... the same number of days Jesus was in the wilderness... forty days of Lent... to the mountain of Horeb and the cave that waited for him. God asked him what he was doing there. Like many prophets I have known, he took pleasure in telling God all he had done for the cause and the price he had paid for his faithful service. God was not impressed. After a show of power on God’s part involving wind and earthquakes and fire, the true voice of God... still and small... sent Elijah on a new journey. He left his purgatory cave and moved on to a different future... with a new disciple/replacement, Elisha... company for the rest of his life on earth. Like Elijah, I need to listen for the still, small Voice in my purgatories... during Lent... for the rest of my life... listen for the assurance and direction that surrounds my soul all the day and night long... find my companions for the journey... be about the work I have been given to do. Thanks be to God for caves and purgatories... friends and family... church and community... Jezebels that drive us to the desert so we might hear God.