A Biblical Perspective on Purgatory

The latest issue of First Things features an excellent article by Gary A. Anderson, professor of Old Testament and Hebrew at University of Notre Dame, on the biblical origins of the doctrine of purgatory. Link here but unfortunately it's only available to subscribers at the moment. Will post an update when the full text becomes available.

The essence of Anderson's argument (and I hope I can do it justice here) is that while the atoning and redeeming work of Christ's self-sacrifice effects total forgiveness for the believer, the effect of sin remains, not as a punishment but as a necessary and natural consequence of our actions. We are forgiven but still must undergo sanctification to experience the full richness of the Beatific Vision. To be sure, we don't sanctify ourselves; that's still the work of God's grace and mercy. What we do is continue to surrender ourselves wholly and completely to Christ's redeeming love until that work of sanctification is complete in us - and for most of us that work will not be complete at the time of death.

In support of his point Anderson points to bibical narratives about King David's patience in suffering the long consequences of his own sin, King Nebuchadnezzar's alms-giving after his own repentence, and how the widows who benefitted from Tabitha's charity in the book of Acts appeal for mercy on her in the Acts story of Peter raising Tabitha from the dead.

St. Augustine would have had no trouble with this improbably juxtaposition of grace (free gift) and merit: Through the divine grace, human beings are enabled to participate in the work of God. Though they win merits for themselves, the merits are themselves the fruit of gifts in the first place. A close analogy might be the young girl who buys a Christmas gift for her mother. From one perspective it is no gift at all; the mother simply gives back what she provided in the first place. But from another
angle the gift allows the child to participate in the exchange of love that is basic to the family itself. Her enthusiastic desire to show her love "wins" anew the love her mother has already given her.

We respond to Christ's totally self-giving love, not simply with cries of mercy and an acceptance of forgiveness, but in a return of totally self-giving love. And yes, it was all Christ's love to being with, but now we participate in it fully. And for our loved ones who have crossed over, we can pray for them that this circle of love may be completed and that we might join in it when our own sanctification is complete:

Salvation is, after all, both individual and communal in nature, and the doctrine of purgatory reminds us that our lives are not ours alone. We are linked in a great chain of being (one body, many members, to invoke Paul) to all of our beloved ancestors. We don't have to pretend that all are saved and by so doing make a mockery of our moral choices, but neither must we commend our beloved to eternal suffering.

I've not done Anderson's article justice with these few short paragraphs, but I commend it to others for their study and prayerful consideration. For me personally, I responded deeply to Anderson's metaphor of the child who gives her mother a Christmas gift which the mother herself undoubtedly paid for. I've been meditating lately on the prologue to the Rule of St. Benedict, where the first sentence commands, "Listen, child of God, to the guidance of
your teacher," and pondering over what it means to be God's child. This metaphor gives me new
insight.

Beloved, all that I have comes from you. I am utterly helpless without your grace and mercy. Let your love sanctify me so that I might reflect your light and love back upon you and the world. Amen.