Two weeks ago, we had the opportunity to celebrate the Commemoration of All the Faithful Departed, better known as All Souls Day.  Though Catholics are familiar with the existence of All Souls Day, many who only who go to Mass once a week do not observe it liturgically since it only falls on a Sunday every handful of years, as it did this year.  Our wider exposure to this important celebration brought to our attention the Church’s beautiful, though often misunderstood, doctrine of Purgatory.

Over the next few paragraphs of Spe salvi¸ Pope Benedict offers some helpful theological considerations on this topic.  During this month of November, during which the Church invites us to have a special care for the souls in Purgatory by praying for them, it is fitting for us to have this as the topic for our consideration as this document on Christian hope comes to an end.  In paragraph 45, the Holy Father begins his reflections on Purgatory by acknowledging the belief by the Jewish people in an “intermediate state” between death and Resurrection.  This is seen especially in Jesus’s use of the Parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus in Luke 16:19-31, which we heard at the end of September for the 26^th Sunday in Ordinary Time.  The pope writes:

This early Jewish idea of an intermediate state includes the view that these souls are not simply in a sort of temporary custody but, as the parable of the rich man illustrates, are already being punished or are experiencing a provisional form of bliss. There is also the idea that this state can involve purification and healing which mature the soul for communion with God. (SS 45)

He then explains how this Jewish belief was taken up by the early Church “and in the Western Church they gradually developed into the doctrine of Purgatory.” (ibid.) Not feeling it necessary to examine the complex historical development of this doctrine, the Holy Father offers a succinct explanation of what we believe regarding the judgment we all undergo at the moment of death, which will set up a more fruitful conversation about Purgatory:

With death, our life-choice becomes definitive—our life stands before the judge. Our choice, which in the course of an entire life takes on a certain shape, can have a variety of forms. There can be people who have totally destroyed their desire for truth and readiness to love, people for whom everything has become a lie, people who have lived for hatred and have suppressed all love within themselves. This is a terrifying thought, but alarming profiles of this type can be seen in certain figures of our own history. In such people all would be beyond remedy and the destruction of good would be irrevocable: this is what we mean by the word Hell. On the other hand there can be people who are utterly pure, completely permeated by God, and thus fully open to their neighbours—people for whom communion with God even now gives direction to their entire being and whose journey towards God only brings to fulfilment what they already are. (ibid.)

The pope begins the next paragraph with this following important assessment: “Yet we know from experience that neither case is normal in human life.” (SS 46) That paves the way for a consideration of Purgatory, to which we will return in two weeks.

I’ll invite you to use your imagination today!

Once upon a time there was a King – an old-style Medieval sort of King. Today, we see him leaving his castle, alone, on his horse, and travelling out through the surrounding towns and villages. He reaches a small dusty dirt path as the day nears its end and makes his way into thick woods. The path is somewhat overgrown, but he knows it. He has been here before. As he passes by a small stream and the miniature valley it creates, he sees a clearing ahead. Through a thicket of trees, the reddening sky appears, and he is in a grassy clearing. On one side is a wooden fence surrounding a small cabin. 

On the front of the cabin is an unusual door with no handle. Inside the fence, the King gets off his horse, goes up to that door and knocks on it. The owner of the cabin opens up the door and seemingly unsurprised, says, “My King, I was expecting you.” 

The last (and first) time the King came, this subject of the King was taken aback, and since the house was not clean or ready for the King, had not wanted him to come in. This new friend of the King was possibly the poorest of His subjects and was, therefore, somewhat embarrassed. The King had simply smiled and taken off a ring from his finger. He left that sign of royal dignity on the porch rail, promising to return.

The owner of the cabin now showed the King into a tidier house and they sat down, talked, and ate together. After they had eaten, the King’s subject brought the ring back to the King. “No, that was for you, my friend,” the King said. “I do not want it back. And that reminds me!” He quickly opened a bag he had been carrying. “I have more for you.” The King handed over a set of clothes he had brought from the palace, much finer than anything in the cabin. Speechless, there was no refusing the King.

The King would return in this way many times; each time bringing something for the cabin or for his new friend; each time deepening their friendship through conversation and his presence.

After some time in this way, we find the King travelling his route once again. He stops and meets his friend at the cabin. On coming inside, the King says to his friend, “I have nothing left of my possessions to give to you that you do not have. But I want you to come to be with me at the castle. I have chosen you to be my heir. As I have explained in the past, I have claimed you as a child of the royal family.” 

“But I know you still have work to do here, so you do not have to come now. Complete your work here. I will continue to visit. When your work is finished, come to the castle to receive your inheritance. Remember who you are.”

And you, Christian, remember who you are and remember whose you are. You have been claimed by a King, who comes repeatedly to give you his very life in Holy Communion. May that friendship grow ever deeper until the day of eternity dawns and we enter, God willing, the heavenly mansion of our King!

Now that we are in the month of November, the Church, especially in her liturgy, invites us to reflect on the Four Last Things:  death, judgment, Heaven, and Hell.  All of them are related, for when death comes for each of us, as it most certainly will, we will undergo a judgment.  At that judgment, known as the Particular Judgment, we will be evaluated based on love, whether we are in a position of loving God and our neighbor at that point when our earthly journey comes to an end.  For those who die in God’s friendship, having accepted His invitation to grace, they will be admitted into Heaven.  For those who have rejected that invitation, even in one’s final moment when the Lord pleads for them to accept His mercy, their final destination will be Hell.  Note that Purgatory is not listed among the Last Things, for there is no finality in Purgatory.  Purgatory is a place of transition where those who have died in friendship with Christ, before being admitted to Heaven, are purified from any remaining effects of sin not purged away through penance in this life.

There is also the Last Judgment, which the Catechism describes in these words:

The Last Judgment will come when Christ returns in glory. Only the Father knows the day and the hour; only he determines the moment of its coming. Then through his Son Jesus Christ he will pronounce the final word on all history. We shall know the ultimate meaning of the whole work of creation and of the entire economy of salvation and understand the marvellous ways by which his Providence led everything towards its final end. The Last Judgment will reveal that God’s justice triumphs over all the injustices committed by his creatures and that God’s love is stronger than death. (CCC 1040)

This description is a helpful companion to what Pope Benedict has been writing about in this last section of Spe salvi on judgment as a setting for learning hope.  the Holy Father writes in the next paragraph:

The image of the Last Judgement is not primarily an image of terror, but an image of hope; for us it may even be the decisive image of hope. Is it not also a frightening image? I would say: it is an image that evokes responsibility, an image, therefore, of that fear of which Saint Hilary spoke when he said that all our fear has its place in love. God is justice and creates justice. This is our consolation and our hope. And in his justice there is also grace. (SS 44)

I find the pope’s invitation to see how the image of the Last Judgment evokes a sense of responsibility to be helpful.  The judgment is related to justice in that justice is one receiving what is their due.  We take responsibility for our actions, for maintaining our relationship with the Lord, with how we live the commandment of loving our neighbor and working for a more just world.  At the same time, we know that we do not earn our salvation, for that is a pure gift, or grace, that the Lord gives to us.  That grace, however, is something we have the responsibility of accepting and living throughout our lives.  May we not fear the idea of judgment, but may we take it seriously, living intentionally to know, love, and serve God and our neighbor in this life, so that when this life comes to an end and we are judged on how we have loved, we may hope to be forever happy with God and all of the saints forever in Heaven.