Why Believe in Purgatory?
Why should Christians believe that there’s an intermediate state after death (henceforth, purgatory)? What follows is an explanation of why I think this doctrine is reasonable and should be upheld by all professing Christians, whether Catholic, Orthodox, or Protestant.
To begin, the first reason why Christians should believe in purgatory is rather straightforward: because of the biblical teaching of sanctification. All serious Christian traditions can agree that justification (being declared righteous) necessarily coincides with sanctification (being made righteous), and regardless of how you tie these together in your soteriology, the end result is the same: “Those whom he predestined he also called, and those whom he called he also justified, and those whom he justified he also glorified” (Rom 8:30).1 Those whom God declares perfect are eventually made perfect (cf. Matt 5:48), for to be glorified is to be freed from all earthly imperfections. However, it’s evident that not all of the justified are completely perfect at the time of their deaths, that is, they still have inclinations towards sin, venial sins, impure thoughts, imperfect intentions, and so on. Their sanctification is not complete. Since, therefore, all of the Saints in heaven have no imperfections (cf. Rev 21:27), but some of the justified are imperfect upon death, there must be some purification from imperfection after death, which the Catholic tradition has come to call “purgatory.”
Ultimately, every Christian tradition must believe in some kind of post-mortem purification, as who would dare say that a Saint in heaven retains all of the imperfections and stains of sin (cf. 1 Jn 1:8) they had at the hour of death? Famously, this is how C.S. Lewis could embrace something like the doctrine of purgatory: “Our souls demand Purgatory, don't they? Would it not break the heart if God said to us, ‘It is true, my son, that your breath smells and your rags drip with mud and slime, but we are charitable here and no one will upbraid you with these things, nor draw away from you. Enter into the joy?’ Should we not reply, ‘With submission, sir, and if there is no objection, I’d rather be cleaned first.’ ‘It may hurt, you know’—’Even so, sir.’”2 Purgatory is the realization of God’s promise to sanctify and glorify His people.
However, this obviously only leaves us with the bare bones of purgatory; the simple fact that those who die in a state of justification must be cleansed of all their impurities after death. It tells us nothing about how long this purification lasts, where it takes place, what it actually entails, or whether our prayers for faithfully departed souls are efficacious. Since purgatory is largely a deduction from Scripture, rather than a doctrine that’s laid out in detail, we wouldn’t really expect to find clear answers to these questions. Indeed, the post-mortem state of the faithful departed is something Scripture has surprisingly little to say about, with there only being two unambiguous references to the particular judgment (Heb 9:27; 2 Cor 5:10), scattered affirmations that our disembodied souls will be “with the Lord” (2 Cor 5:6-8; 1 Thess 4:14-17), and arguably a vision of holy souls in heaven reigning on thrones with Christ (Rev 20:4-6). All we can really gather is that justified Christians will be judged, purified, and then accepted into heaven after death. How long does the judgment last? How long does the purification last? How does time even work in this “realm,” wherever it is? These are questions we can only speculate about… for the most part.
Some would argue that passages like 2 Corinthians 5:1-8 suggest that there’s only two locations for a justified Christian, either in the body away from the Lord, or out of the body with the Lord (in heaven). Following this logic, even if some Christians must be purified after death, this purification would have to be instantaneous given the “immediacy” with which Paul speaks about our transition from an earthly to a heavenly dwelling. However, this perspective still raises some questions. Even if purgatory is a momentary condition, one might still ask, where exactly does it take place? It cannot be on earth, because souls immediately depart for judgment after death (2 Cor 5:10), and if the traditional western reading of 1 Corinthians 3:12-15 is correct (which will be argued below), then purification takes place either during or after this judgment, and surely the heavenly tribunal isn’t located on earth. However, it also cannot be in heaven because, obviously, purification is precisely what’s needed prior to entering heaven. Thus, even if one wants to regard purgatory as something that occurs instantaneously, the existence of a “third place” is still required and so the “two location” dilemma is collapsed, even if only for an instant.
Moreover, this critique of purgatory relies on a blatant misreading of 2 Corinthians 5:1-8. Notice that, unlike what many Protestant exegetes believe, nowhere does this text contain a passage that reads, “to be away from the body is to be at home with the Lord.” Instead, what St. Paul actually says is that “while we are at home in the body” and away from the Lord, we would rather “be away from the body and at home with the Lord” (2 Cor 5:6-7). To borrow an analogy from Karlo Broussard,3 suppose I’m at work but really wishing that I could be away from work and at home with my family. Would it follow from this that if I’m away from work I must automatically be at home with my family? Obviously not. Perhaps I get stuck in traffic on my way back, or maybe I need to get food or gas. None of these intermediate stops would falsify the statement that, “while I’m at work and away from my family I would rather be at home and with my family.” Likewise, the existence of an intermediate state after death would not falsify St. Paul’s teaching that while we’re in the body and away from the Lord, our true desire is to be away from the body and at home with the Lord.
Furthermore, if purgatory is a continuation of the process of sanctification that happens on earth, then would we really expect it to be instantaneous? Why does something that entails a long and difficult process in the body just get immediately completed upon death, with no relationship whatsoever to how that process was going on earth? While this certainly isn’t beyond the power of God, in my mind, it makes much more sense for those in purgatory to experience sanctification in a manner that’s continuous with their spiritual progress on earth, which would obviously take place temporally (in some sense). That purgatory is temporal, and not instantaneous, also seems to cohere well with texts like 1 Peter 4:8, “charity covers a multitude of sins,” and James 5:20, “whoever brings back a sinner from his wandering will save his soul from death and will cover a multitude of sins.” Surely these passages cannot be talking about an act of charity meriting eternal salvation, as this would violate the principle that Christ’s blood is sufficient for expiating our sins. Instead, they must be referring to the fact that works of righteousness can remit the temporal punishment of sin,4 a foundational principle of the classic doctrine of purgatory which holds that purification is temporal rather than instantaneous.
As Gary Anderson has demonstrated in his book, Charity: The Place of the Poor in the Biblical Tradition, the fact that charity saves one from the punishment of sin was one of the defining features of the Old Testament’s teaching on the “heavenly treasury.” This is a concept that’s primarily derived from the wisdom literature, especially Proverbs 10:2, “Treasures gained by wickedness do not profit, but righteousness delivers from death,” and 19:17, “Whoever is merciful to the poor lends to the Lord, and he will repay him for his deed.” Importantly, these two proverbs were later tied together by Tobit 12:8-9, “It is better to give alms than to store up gold, for almsgiving saves from death, and purges all sin,” and Sirach 29:12, “Store up almsgiving in your treasury, and it will save you from every evil.” The consistent emphasis isn’t on our works meriting eternal life, but rather on our works delivering us from the temporal punishment due to sin, e.g. “death,” and “every evil.”5 I’d recommend reading Anderson’s book for a detailed defense of his thesis, however it’s essentially this: the New Testament follows this Old Testament teaching that, whereas sin incurs a “debt” that must be paid off, works of righteousness earn a “wage” that can pay down this debt.
As Nathan Eubank has shown in his dissertation, Wages of Righteousness: The Economy of Heaven in the Gospel According to Matthew, while the New Testament certainly does have an atonement theory wherein our Lord Jesus is the true heavenly “wage earner,” whose righteous sacrifice is able to pay the “ransom” price for those in slavery to sin (cf. Matt 20:28), Jesus’ call for His followers to earn heavenly wages is nonetheless genuine (Matt 6:19-21). In other words, the New Testament conceives of Jesus’ sacrifice as sufficient for meriting the total forgiveness of sins, yet it also affirms that our own deeds of righteousness earn a heavenly “wage” or “payment” (μισθὸς, Matt. 5:12, 6:1-2 cf. Rom 4:4) that can pay down the “debt” (ὀφειλήματα, Matt. 6:12 cf. 6:14) of sin. As Eubank puts it, “The Matthean Jesus both teaches his followers how to get out of debt and [also] earns their price of release for them, but the Gospel never addresses the question of why Jesus’ followers still have debt at all.”6
Eubank further develops this idea in his article, “Prison, Penance, or Purgatory,” wherein he examines Matthew 5:25-26 and its parallels: “Come to terms quickly with your accuser while you are going with him to court, lest your accuser hand you over to the judge, and the judge to the guard, and you be put in prison. Truly, I say to you, you will never get out until you have paid the last penny.” Although most modern interpreters understand this warning as a reference to eternal damnation, Eubank points out how this isn’t what the earliest audiences would have thought. In the Jewish and Greco-Roman worlds, prison sentences were always understood to be temporary penalties, usually intended to extort either the prisoner or his family to pay off debt. Hence why the earliest interpreters of this Jesus saying, such as Tertullian and St. Cyprian of Carthage, viewed it as some kind of temporary punishment either in this life or the next.7 It wasn’t until St. Augustine that anyone interpreted this passage to be speaking about eternal damnation, and even he only understood it this way to counter Origenists who were citing these words to argue for the Apokatastasis. Thus, it seems likely that whatever this “prison” Jesus speaks about is, its duration is temporary, and the debtor will eventually be released.
Moreover, understanding this prison as a temporary post-mortem “place” can explain the logic of the passage quite well.8 Being “on your way to court” is a reference to being on the path towards Christ’s Judgment Seat (which we all face after death), hence the urgency with which you’re supposed to make reparation for your sins before arriving there, something that’s expressed in other parables about the Judgment as well (cf. Matt. 25:13). However, if you get to the Judge (i.e. die) prior to reconciling with your brother, then you’ll be placed in prison, “[and] you will never get out until you have paid the last penny.” Being at odds with a brother is portrayed as a “debt,” which can either be paid in this life by reconciling with him, or in the next life by experiencing debt prison. Notice that, unlike its parallel in Matthew 18:23-35, wherein the imprisoned servant must pay back “ten thousand talents,” an impossible sum of money, this debt prison only requires one to pay the last “penny,” κοδράντης. As St. Jerome explains: “The quadrans [penny] is a kind of coin which is worth two cents... What he is saying [in Matthew 5:25], then, is this: You will not come out from prison until you pay in full for even the least sins.”9 Tertullian concurs: “We understand ‘the prison’ pointed out in the Gospel to be Hades, and as [such] we also interpret ‘the uttermost farthing [penny]’ to mean the very smallest offense which has to be recompensed there before the resurrection.”10 This all perfectly coheres with Matthew’s teaching that the followers of Jesus have their ransom price paid, yet still have to perform good works in order to expiate some of their sins.
However, some might dispute this reading of Matthew 5:25-26. Critics might argue that, rather than speaking about purgatory in this passage, Jesus was actually talking about the Final Judgment. This would not only exclude the debt prison from being a post-mortem place, they would posit, but it would also eliminate a purgatorial reading altogether, since that Day appears to leave no room for purification for those who will, “inherit the Kingdom prepared for [them] from the foundation of the world” (Matt 25:34). There’s only two verdicts: either blessed or cursed. Now, while these are good arguments, there’s two ways I’d go about responding to them. First, I’d point out that Matthew’s Gospel actually does imply that some sins will be purged away in the Final Judgment, as St. Augustine explains: “For were there not some whose sins, though not remitted in this life, shall be remitted in that which is to come, it could not be truly said, ‘They shall not be forgiven, neither in this world, neither in that which is to come’ (Matt 12:3).”11 Second, there’s another “purgatorial” passage in the New Testament that also appears in the context of the Final Judgment, and I believe that understanding it properly will largely answer the remaining difficulties.
In his first letter to the Corinthians, St. Paul wrote the following words that would eventually prove to be quite controversial:
For no one can lay a foundation other than that which is laid, which is Jesus Christ. Now if anyone builds on the foundation with gold, silver, precious stones, wood, hay, straw— each one’s work will become manifest, for the Day will disclose it, because it will be revealed by fire, and the fire will test what sort of work each one has done. If the work that anyone has built on the foundation survives, he will receive a reward. If anyone’s work is burned up, he will suffer loss, though he himself will be saved, but only as through fire.
1 Corinthians 3:11-15
Since this is the classic “proof-text” for purgatory, let’s start by addressing some of the common arguments made against the Catholic reading. These will come from the Eastern Orthodox apologist Fr. Josiah Trenham’s video, “No Purgatory,” wherein he provides a good summary of the anti-Catholic talking points.
The first reason Trenham gives for why this passage cannot refer to purgatory is because the fire spoken of here “is not a purging fire, [rather] this is a fire that tests, that reveals, not that works satisfaction, not that works benefit.” This is connected with his second argument that, “it is not just sins that go through this [fire] but good works pass through it, which means that if you are going to refer to this text, evidently all people are going to have to go through this purgatorial fire which is not, in fact, the teaching of the Latins.” These are not terrible arguments from an exegetical point of view, however, we should pay careful attention to the precise way in which Catholics use this text to prove purgatory. We do so by focusing on the dichotomy between the man of v. 14, “he will receive a reward,” and the man of v. 15, “though he himself will be saved, but only as through fire.” It’s true that St. Paul teaches that all Christians will have their works “tested” by fire, however, contrary to Trenham’s claim, the Apostle only says that those who “suffer loss” will be “saved… through fire,” meaning that the Catholic exegesis of this text does not require all people to go through the purgatorial fire, rather only those who are to be “saved” by means of this fire.
Indeed, a few years ago there was an article written by the New Testament scholar Daniel Frayer-Griggs entitled, “Neither Proof Text nor Proverb: The Instrumental Sense of διά and the Soteriological Function of Fire in 1 Corinthians 3.15.” Frayer-Griggs points out that the Apostle Paul’s teaching in 1 Corinthians 3:11-15 is a “probable allusion to Malachi 3, where fire plays a purifying and refining function,” which, coupled with “the frequent pairing of testing and refining in the Hebrew Bible [cf. Isa 48.10; Jer 9.6; Zech 13.9; Ps 66.10],” strongly tips the scales “in favor of the instrumental sense of διά [“through”] and thus in favor of the soteriological function of fire in v. 15.”12 This is powerful evidence against Fr. Trenham’s argument because, if fire plays a soteriological role in 1 Corinthians 3:15, then it’s only some individuals who are being saved/purified by this fire, not everyone. This is indeed how the Latin fathers universally understood this passage, including Ss. Ambrose, Augustine, Caesarius, Gregory, and Bede.13 Those who build “gold, silver, [and] precious stones” on the foundation of Christ will experience the test but not the salvation by fire, while those who build “wood, hay, [and] straw,” i.e. sins, will have to undergo both.
The next argument that Trenham makes regarding 1 Corinthians 3:11-15 is probably his weakest. He posits that, while the Catholic teaching is that those who are “saved as through fire” receive the benefit of being saved, the actual text of v. 15 says that those whose “work is burned up… will suffer loss.” However, the solution to this apparent contradiction is very simple: what they are losing is that which is “burned up,” their sins, a process that’s implied to be painful since it occurs “through fire.” The only way for Fr. Trenham’s claim of a contradiction to work would be if he interprets St. Paul’s usage of the phrase “will be saved,” σωθήσεται, in a non-soteriological way, however, that’s just absurd. Every other time Paul uses this phrase in his writings (Rom 9:27, 10:13, 11:26; 1 Tim 2:15), and every single time it’s used in the New Testament in the context of divine judgment (Matt 10:22, 24:13; Mk 13:13, 16:16; Jn 10:9; Acts 2:21), it only has one meaning: to receive eternal salvation. To suppose that this word has a different meaning in 1 Corinthians 3:15 solely because it’s convenient for your theological system is to cease engaging in serious discussion. In fact, the Greek term that translates to, “suffer loss,” ζημιόω, is not only never used by St. Paul to refer to eternal damnation (cf. 2 Cor 7:9; Phil 3:8), but it is used repeatedly throughout the Septuagint translation of the Old Testament to refer to fines that criminals paid in order to make reparation for their sins (Ex 21:22; Deut 22:19; Prov 17:26). Thus, Paul’s teaching that those in purgatory are “saved,” yet still “suffer loss,” seems to underscore Jesus’ teaching that His followers have their random price paid, yet still must earn heavenly wages in preparation for the coming judgment.
This brings us to what is probably Fr. Trenham’s strongest argument against the purgatorial reading of this text, which also brings us back to the difficulties posed above. In Trenham’s words, the scene described in 1 Corinthians 3:11-15, “takes place ‘on that Day,’ on the Great Day, not at death but on that day when the Great Judgment will take place. This is not a reference to something that happens in the intermediate state, this is a reference to what happens at the end [of time].” Now, there’s absolutely no doubt that when v. 13 says, “the Day will disclose it,” the Final Judgment is indeed the primary focus. So does this refute the doctrine of purgatory since we believe that it exists prior to that Day as well? Not at all. As Trenham should well know, in the patristic tradition of biblical interpretation, we often see that the fathers had no problem taking passages of Scripture that are clearly about the Final Judgment, and applying them to the time of our deaths.
For example, when Jesus says in Matthew 25:13 that we “know neither the day nor the hour in which the Son of man comes,” He’s clearly referring to some kind of eschatological judgment and not the time of our deaths. However, this didn’t stop St. John Chrysostom from interpreting this passage as Jesus “showing [us] how awful our ignorance is concerning our departure” from this life. He further warns that those who think, “At the time of my death, I shall leave money to the poor,” ought to “listen to these words, and be amended. For indeed at that time many have failed of this, having been snatched away at once.”14 For Chrysostom, what will occur at the Final Judgment reveals what will occur at the hour of death, which is why preparing for one is necessarily preparing for the other. As such, 1 Corinthians 3:11-15 speaking of a final purification by fire that some of the saints will have to endure reveals that those who fall asleep before that Day will have to undergo this same purification after death, exactly as the Catholic Church teaches. In the words of St. Francis de Sales :
We are quite aware that they [the fathers] understand it [1 Corinthians 3:11-15] of a purgation which will be at the end of the world by the general fire and conflagration, in which will be purged away the remains of the sins of those who will be found alive, but we still are able to draw from this a good argument for our Purgatory. For if persons at that time have need of purgation before receiving the effects of the benediction of the supreme Judge, why shall not those also have need of it who die before that time, since some of these may be found at death to have remains of their imperfections. In truth if Paradise cannot receive any stains at that time, neither will it receive them any better at present.
St. Francis de Sales, The Catholic Controversy, Article II, Chapter III.
Tying this back to Matthew 5:25-26, one can clearly see why a text being about the Final Judgment poses no problem to a purgatorial interpretation. In fact, all these passages end up doing is underscoring the retributive and penal nature of purgatory, something Catholic doctrine has historically emphasized against both Protestantism and Eastern Orthodoxy.15 The reason why you should desire “payments” from God (Matt 6:1-2), storing up “treasure” in heaven rather than on earth (Matt 6:29), is because when the King comes back to “settle accounts” at the Final Judgment (Matt 18:23, 25:19), you not only don’t want to be among the damned, but you also don’t want to be among those who “suffer loss” and have to be “saved… through fire” (1 Cor 3:15). Although purgatory certainly is a place of purification and healing from sin, it’s also a place of punishment and atonement for our sins. Indeed, by descending into the lower parts of the earth and suffering for our own sins, we’re able to imitate our Savior Jesus Christ who did the same on our behalf, albeit perfectly. Whether it’s in this life or the next, we all must “fill up what is lacking in the sufferings of Christ” (Col 1:24).
Nowhere is this distinctively Catholic understanding of purgatory more apparent than in the Second Book of Maccabees. Although many Protestants reject the divine inspiration of this text, they nonetheless hold that it carries some level of authority, and ought to be “read by those who newly join us, and who wish for instruction in the word of godliness.”16 As such, its witness is worth taking seriously. In 2 Maccabees 12:40-46, we’re given a story about Judas Maccabeus and his men discovering some Jewish soldiers who had died in battle. These men were found to be wearing idolatrous trinkets, “which the law forbids the Jews to wear” (2 Macc 12:40), and so we’re told that it was God’s justice that inflicted these men with the temporal punishment of death (2 Macc 12:41-42). However, recalling the mercy of this same God, and “expecting the fallen to rise again” in the resurrection, Judas and his men believed that it was not “foolish to pray for the dead” (2 Macc 12:44). Because of this, they prayed and gave alms, “ma[king] atonement for the dead, that they might be absolved from their sin” (2 Macc 12:46). It’s shocking how almost every aspect of the Church’s teaching on purgatory is contained in this short passage. We see temporal punishment for sins, post-mortem forgiveness of sins, and the efficacy of our prayers and sacrifices for the dead. Although, as mentioned, Protestants reject the authority of this text to establish doctrine, it’s worth noting that they have no historical grounds for doing so.
While there were some ancients who didn’t include 2 Maccabees in their lists of the biblical canon, there was nonetheless near universal agreement among the fathers that it was still the inspired Word of God. Origen of Alexandria (AD 185-254) put the books of Maccabees right alongside Genesis, 2 Kings, and Isaiah, citing them all as “Scripture history”;17 St. Cyprian of Carthage (AD 210-258) quoted 1 Maccabees as “holy Scripture” right next to Habakkuk and Isaiah,18 and elsewhere he quoted 1 and 2 Maccabees alongside protocanonical books without hesitation;19 St. Hilary of Poitiers (AD 310-367) likewise quoted Maccabees in the same breath as other Scripture,20 and even appealed to 2 Maccabees as “Scripture” and the words of “the prophet” against Arian heretics;21 St. Gregory Nazianzus (AD 329-390) included the Maccabean martyrs as part of biblical history;22 St. Ambrose of Milan (AD 339-397) introduced a quotation from 2 Maccabees with the phrase, “It is written,” citing it alongside the New Testament;23 St. Augustine of Hippo (AD 354-430) directly taught that 2 Maccabees is part of “the Old Scriptures”;24 even St. Jerome (AD 342-420), who famously rejected the deuterocanon as Scripture, nonetheless included 2 Maccabees in a long list of biblical citations against Pelagianism;25 St. John Damascene (AD 675-749), who also disputed the canonicity of the deuterocanon, still used 2 Maccabees alongside Exodus and Deuteronomy to establish the doctrine of God’s omniscience;26 and St. Isidore of Seville (AD 560-636) said of the deuterocanonicals, including Maccabees, “The Jews hold these separate among the apocrypha (apocrypha), but the Church of Christ honors and proclaims them among the divine books.”27 This list could go on, but hopefully the point has been made.
Regardless of where exactly the fathers placed Maccabees in their lists of the biblical canon, it cannot be doubted that almost none of them would have dared to say that these books teach heresy. Certainly the vast majority wouldn’t agree with the Church of England’s Thirty Nine Articles of Religion that a Christian ought “not apply them [the deuterocanonicals] to establish any doctrine.”28 Not even St. Jerome stuck to his own rule on that, which he was alone in upholding anyways.29 In fact, so ingrained into the Christian conscience was the divine authority of the deuterocanon that one of the texts approved as “godly and wholesome” by the Articles themselves, the Book of Homilies,30 repeatedly used these books to establish Christian doctrine! Aware of this contradiction, the Anglican theologian William Daubney suggested that the Articles actually meant to say that the deuterocanon cannot be used to establish “any doctrine not already confirmed by the canonical scriptures,” and that without this novelty, “it seems impossible to reconcile with the doctrinal use of the Apocrypha in the Homilies by the same authorities as those who put forth the articles.”31 Thus, in addition to upholding a canonical rule established by only one doctor of the Church, Anglicans had to come up with a contrived explanation of how they even remained consistent with that rule in light of the deep-seated Christian tradition of using the deuterocanon as a divine authority to prove doctrine.
Ultimately, the reason why Protestants believe what they do about the deuterocanon is not because they care about faithfulness to the traditional criteria of canonicity (in this case, catholicity); it’s not even because they care about being faithful to St. Jerome. Rather, the only reason why Protestants actually believe this is because if they didn’t, if they accepted books like 2 Maccabees as authorities that can prove doctrine, they’d have to admit that they were wrong about “Romish” doctrines like purgatory. As explained above, it’s not merely prayer for the dead that 2 Maccabees teaches, which might be acceptable to some Lutherans and Anglicans, rather it’s also temporal punishment for sin, and the post-mortem expiation of sin via the sacrifices of the living. These teachings are anathema to historic Protestantism, and even mere prayer for the dead is anathema to your average Protestant today. One truly has to ask, then, would the ancient Church have accepted the Reformed position on the deuterocanon, especially with respect to 2 Maccabees’ teaching on purgatory?
This question is especially important because of what our Lord Jesus Christ told us to do when we have any kind of dispute among brothers: “tell it to the Church, and if he refuses to listen even to the Church, let him be to you as a heathen and a tax collector” (Matt 18:17). The Scripture itself commands us to listen to whatever the Church has ruled on our disputes, and so because this article is about why Christians should believe in purgatory, we must consult the Church’s historic teaching on these matters. Remember, our Lord provides us with no other means by which Christians can settle disputes with one another, and so this is where we now turn.
As St. Francis de Sales documents in, The Catholic Controversy, there have been many times in Church history when this issue of post-mortem purification has come up. According to St. Epiphanius of Salamis (AD 310-403), an Arian heretic named Aerius was the first Christian to dispute the ancient practice of praying for the faithful departed. This heretic rhetorically asked, “Why do you mention the names of the dead after their deaths [in the liturgy]? If the living prays or has given alms, how will this benefit the dead?”32 St. Epiphanius cited this as an example of Aerius “show[ing] the world his intent, unbelief, and his mad teachings,”33 clearly revealing the 4th century Church’s belief that the faithful departed are, in fact, in need of our prayerful assistance. St. Augustine of Hippo (AD 354-430) likewise taught that, although Scripture itself attests to the practice of praying for the dead (2 Macc 12:46), “even if it were no where at all read in the Old Scriptures, not small is the authority, which in this usage is clear, of the whole Church, namely, that in the prayers of the priest which are offered to the Lord God at His altar, the Commendation of the dead has also its place.”34 Elsewhere, Augustine further clarified that, “It should not be doubted that the dead are aided by the prayers of the holy Church, by the salutary sacrifice [the Eucharist], and by the alms which are bequeathed for their spirits, so that what their sins merited is more mercifully accomplished with them by the Lord.”35
The fact of the matter is, prior to the Reformation, there was never a time when the Church didn’t pray and offer Mass for the faithful departed. In addition to Ss. Augustine and Epiphanius, this practice is also attested to by the liturgy of Addai and Mari (AD 200),36 the Martyrdom of Ss. Perpetua and Felicity (AD 203),37 the liturgy of St. Mark (AD 300),38 Tertullian of Carthage (AD 160-240),39 St. Cyril of Jerusalem (AD 313-386),40 St. Ambrose of Milan (AD 339-397),41 St. John Chrysostom (AD 347-407),42 and St. Gregory the Great (AD 540-604),43 among many others. For as long as the new covenant has been in force, Christians have been making offerings for the dead. Now, as mentioned, mere prayer for the dead doesn’t get us all the way to the Catholic doctrine of purgatory, as many magisterial Reformers would have reluctantly allowed for some form of the practice. However, when we examine the actual content of the Church’s historic practice, I think it becomes quite evident that it wouldn’t have made the cut of the 1552 Book of Common Prayer.44 For, at what Protestant liturgy today will I hear it prayed, “Spare [O Christ] the offenses and sins of the dead, through Your grace and mercies forever,”45 or “give peace to the souls of our fathers and brethren who have fallen asleep in Jesus”?46 Where will it be taught that the reason why we offer prayers and liturgies for the departed is so that we might “propitiat[e] our merciful God for them as well as for ourselves,”47 “so that what their sins merited is more mercifully accomplished with them by the Lord,”48 and that they will be “translated from the place of punishment”?49 If there’s no purgatory, if there are no faithfully departed souls who are being punished for their sins, then who exactly was all of this for? It is thus not without reason that the Church of God decreed:
Whereas the Catholic Church, instructed by the Holy Ghost, has, from the sacred writings and the ancient tradition of the Fathers, taught, in sacred councils, and very recently in this oecumenical Synod, that there is a Purgatory, and that the souls there detained are helped by the suffrages of the faithful, but principally by the acceptable sacrifice of the altar; the holy Synod enjoins on bishops that they diligently endeavour that the sound doctrine concerning Purgatory, transmitted by the holy Fathers and sacred councils, be believed, maintained, taught, and every where proclaimed by the faithful of Christ.
The Council of Trent, First Decree Concerning Purgatory.
Compare this with what the Lutheran Reformers taught about making sacrifices for the purpose of remitting the sins of the dead:
Our adversaries have no testimonies and no command from Scripture for defending the application of the ceremony for liberating the souls of the dead, although from this they derive infinite revenue. Nor, indeed, is it a light sin to establish such services in the Church without the command of God and without the example of Scripture, and to apply to the dead the Lord’s Supper, which was instituted for commemoration and preaching among the living [for the purpose of strengthening the faith of those who use the ceremony]. This is to violate the Second Commandment, by abusing God’s name. For, in the first place, it is a dishonor to the Gospel to hold that a ceremony ex opere operato, without faith, is a sacrifice reconciling God, and making satisfaction for sins.
The Book of Concord, Article XXIV (XII), 89.
I wonder what the authors of the Book of Concord would’ve had to say to St. John Chrysostom, who taught concerning our commemoration of the dead during Mass: “Let us then give them aid and perform commemoration for them. For if the children of Job were purged by the sacrifice of their father, why do you doubt that when we too offer for the departed, some consolation arises to them? Since God is wont to grant the petitions of those who ask for others.”50 Not to mention St. Cyril of Jerusalem again: “For if a king were to banish certain who had given him offense, and then those who belong to them should weave a crown and offer it to him on behalf of those under punishment, would he not grant a remission of their penalties? In the same way we, when we offer to Him our supplications for those who have fallen asleep, though they be sinners, weave no crown, but offer up Christ sacrificed for our sins, propitiating our merciful God for them as well as for ourselves.”51 Or St. Augustine: “It should not be doubted that the dead are aided by the prayers of the holy Church, [and] by the salutary sacrifice [the Eucharist].”52 Isn’t what these fathers taught exactly the kind of “application of the ceremony [Mass] for liberating the souls of the dead” that the Lutheran Reformers believed is “[not] a light sin,” a “violat[ion] [of] the Second Commandment,” an “abus[e] of God’s name,” and “a dishonor to the Gospel”? It would seem so, yet it’s the universal teaching of the fathers of both East and West.
Thus, if one truly wishes to view the historic Church as an authority over the interpretation of Scripture, rather than just paying lip-service to this idea, then I believe one is forced to agree with the (overall) biblical exegesis provided in this article. It must be admitted that purgatory is an issue that Protestantism simply got wrong, and the Catholic Church got right. Unless one would rather admit that the Church of Jesus Christ, which is the Light of the World, the Joy of the Nations, the City on a Hill that cannot be hid, and the Pillar and Ground of the Truth, for nearly 2,000 years, “banish[ed] the daily sacrifice from the Church,” “defile[d] the Gospel,” “corrupt[ed] the use of the Sacraments,” and consisted of “the real blasphemers whom Paul has said, 1 Cor. 11:27, to be guilty of the body and blood of the Lord.”53 If these accusations were true of the historic Church, could one really take Jesus’ Messianic claims seriously? Certainly not. But if these accusations cannot be leveled against the early Church, then neither can they be leveled against the medieval Church, nor the Catholic Church today who simply follows these ancient authorities. The true follower of Christ can clearly see, then, that Mother Church has already ruled on this dispute over post-mortem purification, and so to those who choose to disobey her, “let him be to you as a heathen and a tax collector” (Matt 18:17).
Some Reformed theologians have made a big to-do about all of these verbs being in the past tense, i.e. called, justified, glorified. However, I believe it’s clear that St. Paul is speaking about God’s eternal plan of predestination, and since this is an eternal plan, of course temporal language will break down when applied to it.
C.S. Lewis, Letters to Malcolm, 20.
Karlo Broussard, Purgatory Is For Real: Good News About the Afterlife For Those Who Aren’t Perfect Yet [Kindle ed.], 46%.
That there is temporal punishment due to sin is proved from the examples of Moses and David. Despite being forgiven, both of these men were still given temporal punishments for their sins against the Lord (Num 20:12; 2 Sam 12:13-14).
Although salvation from eternal death/evil could be extrapolated from these passages, the context suggests that temporal death/evil was the primary referent. This is especially so in the book of Tobit, where the following explanation of “salvation from death” is clearly provided: “Because he gave alms, Ahikar escaped the fatal trap that Nadab had set for him, but Nadab fell into it himself, and was destroyed. So now, my children, see what almsgiving accomplishes, and what injustice does—it brings death!” (Tob 14:10–11). Ahikar was literally delivered from a temporal death because of his charity, thereby revealing the primary meaning of, “It is better to give alms than to store up gold, for almsgiving saves from death” (Tob 12:8-9). For more on this, see Gary Anderson, Charity: The Place of the Poor in the Biblical Tradition, pp. 70-82.
Nathan Eubank, Wages of Righteousness: The Economy of Heaven in the Gospel According to Matthew, Dissertation, p. 239.
Eubank, “Prison, Penance, or Purgatory,” 2. Ancient Interpreters of Matt 5.25–6 and Parallels.
It’s worth noting that the New Testament does use the word “prison,” φυλακὴν, at least once to describe a post-mortem place where souls are temporarily detained: “[Christ] went and proclaimed to the spirits in prison [φυλακῇ], because they formerly did not obey, when God's patience waited in the days of Noah, while the ark was being prepared, in which a few, that is, eight persons, were brought safely through water.” (1 Peter 3:19-20).
St. Jerome, Commentary on Matthew, Book I, 5.25-26, qtd. in Fathers of the Church: Commentary on Matthew trans. Thomas Sheck, p. 81.
Tertullian, A Treatise on the Soul, Chapter 58.
St. Augustine, The City of God, XXI, 24. Eubank comments on this passage: “In the saying on blasphemy against the Holy Spirit (12.31–2), Mark and Luke say it will not be forgiven (Mark 3.28–9; Luke 12.10), but Matthew specifies that this particular sin will not be forgiven in this age or in the age to come (οὐκ ἀφεθήσεται αὐτῷ οὔτε ἐν τούτῳ τῷ αἰῶνι οὔτε ἐν τῷ μέλλοντι). For some ancient Christians, this implied that in the age to come other sins will be forgiven. If modern commentators mention this interpretation at all it is only to scoff, but it should not be dismissed so lightly. There were disagreements in ancient Judaism and Christianity on the extent of atonement after the present life. Some denied it was possible. Others accepted it, but only up to a point, and indeed some rabbis distinguished between sin that could be forgiven after death and sin that could not. Matthew adapts the Markan tradition to specify that one particularly heinous offense will not be forgiven ‘in this age nor in the age to come’. It is perfectly reasonable to suppose other sins might be.” (Eubank, “Prison, Penance, or Purgatory,” 3. Analysis).
Daniel Frayer-Griggs, “Neither Proof Text nor Proverb: The Instrumental Sense of διά and the Soteriological Function of Fire in 1 Corinthians 3.15,” Conclusion.
For more on this see my article, “Yes Purgatory: A Response to Fr. Josiah Trenham.”
St. John Chrysostom, Homily 78 on Matthew, 2.
In his Orations Against Purgatory, the medieval Eastern Orthodox apologist Mark of Ephesus criticized the Latin emphasis on post-mortem punishment, instead arguing that punishment and purification are mutually exclusive: “The third remission [of sins after death] is also painful, for it is bound up with repentance and a conscience that is contrite and suffers from insufficiency of good; however, it is not at all mixed with punishment, if it is a remission of sins; for remission and punishment can by no means exist together… Thus does the Church of God think and when entreating for the departed the remission of sins and believing that it is granted them, it does not define as a law of punishment with relation to them, knowing well that the Divine Goodness in such matters conquers the idea of justice.” (First Homily of Mark of Ephesus on Purgatory, 13).
St. Athanasius, Letter 39, 7. Although Athanasius didn’t include Maccabees at all in his lists of authoritative texts, Protestants claim they have the same attitude towards the deuterocanon that he did, yet this doesn’t seem to align with reality. During the Arian crisis, one of the primary “exegetical battle grounds” was the wisdom literature, due to its frequent speak of pre-existent divine Wisdom. The Arians maintained that Wisdom, whom everyone understood to be our Lord Jesus, was created, while the Nicenes were at pains to show that this wasn’t the case. Indeed, there are some “difficult” passages in both protocanonical and deuterocanonical wisdom books that could be interpreted as the Son being created. Given this, it would’ve been so easy for St. Athanasius to dismiss many of the Arians’ arguments by simply rejecting the divine authority of books like the Wisdom of Solomon and the Wisdom of Sirach, since he considered them “non-canonical” anyways. Yet he didn’t do this. In fact, not only did he never contradict the Arians for using these “non-canonical” books to try and establish their doctrine, but Athanasius himself cited the Wisdom of Solomon as “the wisdom of God” (Against the Heathen, 1, 9), and “divine Scripture” (Four Discourses Against the Arians, 2, 45), and he quoted the Wisdom of Sirach as “words spoken by the Spirit” (To the Bishops of Egypt, Chapter 1, qtd. in Athanasius: Select Works and Letters trans. Philip Schaff, p. 637). This is what leads Gary Michuta to observe that, “Instead of dividing religious literature into the two categories that we use today, [Athanasius] divides it into three: the ‘canonized,’ ‘those that are read,’ and apocrypha. For Athanasius, the canonical books were those that were read as Scripture both in the synagogue and in Christian churches. The ‘books that were read’ referred to Scripture that was read only in church. Apocrypha were those writings that were not read in either” (Gary Michuta, Why Catholic Bibles Are Bigger [Epub], p. 99). In other words, the difference between the “canonical” and “non-canonical” books for St. Athanasius was not that the former were inspired while the latter weren’t, rather it’s that the former were accepted by both Jews and Christians while the latter were accepted only by the Church.
Origen, Contra Celseum, Book VIII, 46.
St. Cyprian, Letter 54, 3.
See St. Cyprian’s, Three Books of Testimonies Addressed to the Jews Ad Quirinum.
St. Hilary, Tract in Psalms 134.25; Lib. Contra Const. Imp. 6., qtd. in Michuta, Why Catholic Bibles Are Bigger [Epub], p. 103n225.
St. Hilary, On the Trinity, Book IV, 16.
St. Gregory Nazianzus, Orations 43, 74.
St. Ambrose, On the Duties of the Clergy, Book III, 18, 107.
St. Augustine, On the Care of the Dead, 3.
St. Jerome, Against the Pelagians, Book II.
St. John Damascene, On the Orthodox Faith, Book I, Chapter 9. Keep in mind that this is the same John Damascene who practically rejected the notion that the Church fathers could contradict one another, see Apologia Against Those Who Decry Holy Images, Part I. Given this, how much less would the Damascene believe that 2 Maccabees could contradict other parts of Scripture?
St. Isidore, The Etymologies, Book VI, 9.
Thirty Nine Articles of Religion, Article 6.
It might be suggested that someone like Rufinus (AD 344-411) agreed with St. Jerome that the deuterocanonicals are “not appealed to for the confirmation of doctrine” (Commentary on the Apostles’ Creed, 38). However, it’s unlikely that these two held the same position. This is because, despite saying this, Rufinus actually harshly criticized Jerome’s perspective on the deuterocanon, even stating that, by removing portions of it from the Latin Vulgate, Jerome was “mak[ing] havoc of the divine record handed down to the churches by the apostles and the deposit of the Holy Spirit” (The Apology of Rufinus, II, 33). According to Rufinus, anything handed down to the Church for the purpose of spiritual reading is protected by the Holy Spirit, and so he likely held to the opinion of Origen of Alexandria, a man whom Rufinus revered and defended, that even the “ecclesiastical books” are, like the canonical books, “inspired by the Spirit of God” (De Principiis, Preface, 8). We can reconcile this with Rufinus’ position that the ecclesiastical books are “not appealed to for the confirmation of doctrine,” by recognizing that there are two senses in which we can speak of a text having the ability to “confirm doctrine.” The first is objective, which is that, by virtue of being the inspired Word of God, the text in question objectively cannot contradict the truth and therefore can be used to confirm the truthfulness of doctrine. This is what St. Jerome denied to the deuterocanon. The second sense is subjective, which is that, in addition to being objectively capable of proving doctrine, all interlocutors agree that these texts possess this status. For example, while I as a Catholic can use Vatican I to “prove doctrine” with my fellow Catholics, I cannot appeal to this with the Eastern Orthodox since they don’t recognize this council as ecumenical. Likewise, I can appeal to the first Seven Ecumenical Councils to confirm doctrine with the Eastern Orthodox, but cannot appeal to these against Protestants. In this subjective sense, then, one can say that these authorities “cannot prove doctrine” in our apologetics. This definitely seems to be the sense in which Rufinus understood the deuterocanon, given he (following Origen) clearly affirmed that it was objectively inspired by the Holy Spirit, but denied that it could confirm the Church’s doctrines. Perhaps a good analogy would be how, in the early Church, there were many who disputed the canonicity of Revelation, and so it could have been said at that time that, “we do not use Revelation to confirm doctrine.” This wouldn’t undermine one’s personal belief in the divine inspiration of Revelation, rather it would just reflect its status as part of the “antilegomena.” This is indeed how many Lutherans treat Revelation and the Epistle of St. James to this today.
Ibid., Article 35.
William Daubney, The Use of the Apocrypha in the Christian Church, p. 69.
St. Epiphanius, Against Aerius, 3.5, qtd. in The Panarion of Epiphanius of Salamis Books II and III trans. Frank Williams, p. 506.
Ibid.
St. Augustine, On the Care of the Dead, 3.
St. Augustine, Sermo 173, 2. PL 38:936, 937, qtd. in James Jorgenson, “The Debate Over the Patristic Texts on Purgatory at the Council of Ferrara-Florence, 1438,” p. 319.
Tertullian, An Exhortation to Chastity, IX; On Monogamy, Chapter 10.
St. Cyril of Jersusalem, Catechetical Lecture 23, 9-10.
St. Ambrose, On Valentinian, 78.
St. John Chrysostom, Homily 41 on First Corinthians, 8.3.
The 1549 Book of Common Prayer contained the following prayer for the departed that was subsequently removed in 1552: “O LORD, with whom do the spirits of the dead live, and in whom the souls of the chosen, once freed from the burdens of the flesh, experience joy and bliss. Grant unto your servant, that the sins which he committed in this world may not be held against him. Instead, may he escape the gates of hell and the pains of eternal darkness, dwelling forever in the lofty realm with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. May he reside in a place where there is no weeping, sorrow, or heaviness. When the dreaded day of the general resurrection arrives, make him rise with the just and righteous. Allow him to receive this body again in glory, purified and incorruptible. Seat him at the right hand of your son Jesus Christ, among the holy and chosen, so that he may hear these sweet and comforting words with them: ‘Come to me, you blessed of my Father, possess the kingdom prepared for you since the beginning of the world.’ Grant this, we beseech you, O merciful Father, through Jesus Christ our mediator and redeemer. Amen.” (The Book of Common Prayer - 1549, Burial of the Dead).
St. Cyril of Jersusalem, Catechetical Lecture 23, 9-10.
St. Augustine, Sermo 173, 2. PL 38:936, 937, qtd. in Jorgenson, “The Debate Over the Patristic Texts on Purgatory at the Council of Ferrara-Florence, 1438,” p. 319.
St. John Chrysostom, Homily 41 on First Corinthians, 8.3.
St. Cyril of Jersusalem, Catechetical Lecture 23, 9-10.
St. Augustine, Sermo 173, 2. PL 38:936, 937, qtd. in Jorgenson, “The Debate Over the Patristic Texts on Purgatory at the Council of Ferrara-Florence, 1438,” p. 319.
The Book of Concord, Article XXIV (XII), 91.