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.

Today, the church celebrates the dedication of the Basilica of the Lateran in Rome. While that church is very special and is one of the great wonders of Catholic Rome, today’s celebration is not simply focused on this particular church. Today, as we celebrate the dedication of the Lateran Basilica, we remember that the Church is not merely a building. 

To be fair, we are blessed with our church buildings – they are beautiful structures that are the house of God and a place for us to worship. This is the purpose of the Church building – to be a house for God and his people to gather, and to be a place to offer sacrifice.

The more fundamental “Church,” however, is “built of living stones” – it is the body of Christ made up of Jesus, our head, and us, his members. We thankfully have our beautiful buildings to properly worship God, but they aren’t “the Church.”  What happens in our worship of God in these buildings is the offering of Jesus Christ and our worship of the Father through Him, with Him, and in Him. At Mass, Jesus offers this worship to his heavenly father, and we are invited to participate in his offering. True worship is when we participate in the offering of Jesus from the depths of our hearts.

“You yourself,” St. Paul tells us, “are the temple of the living God.” You and I are God’s temple, and we are built upon Jesus Christ as our foundation. We share his Holy Spirit, and our hearts are living altars of sacrifice. We place our prayer intentions upon our hearts; we lift up every moment of our day upon the altar of our hearts. This is a very priestly thing to do, but it is not only for ordained priests to do. This is the job of every Christian, because we all share in the common priesthood of Jesus Christ. 

This idea of the altar of the heart in no way detracts from the necessary and saving action of Christ on the cross presented to us on the altar at Mass. In fact, it should serve, rather, to heighten our awareness of our ability to participate in Christ’s offering. At the offertory, the priest looks out and says to the people gathered together, “Pray brothers and sisters, that my sacrifice and yours may be acceptable to God the almighty Father.” The inclusion of those two words, “and yours,” is very intentional. We bring a sacrifice to the altar too, and we can place our own sacrifice, spiritually, upon the altar at Mass.

Therefore, to cultivate a habit of continually setting our lives upon the altars of our own hearts is a perfect preparation for weekly or daily Mass. This is simply another way of stating the age-old “offer it up!” As Saint Peter tells us, “…like living stones, let yourselves be built into a spiritual house, to be a holy priesthood, to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ.” As baptized Christians, we are this holy priesthood, and every moment of our life can be offered up as a spiritual sacrifice upon the altar of our hearts (in prayer), and then at the altar of the Mass (in union with Christ’s offering to the Father).

God receives this offering with great love, and he pours out blessings on our lives when we offer ourselves and our families to him. We give you today, O Jesus our king, all the trials, works, joys, and happiness of our daily life. We ask you to pour out your blessings upon all the members of our families, absent and present, living and dead. When one after another we will have fallen asleep in death, may all of us in heaven find our family reunited in your Sacred Heart. Amen. (this final prayer adapted from a prayer of consecration to the Sacred Heart of Jesus)

As Pope Benedict continues his reflection on the judgment as a setting for learning and practicing hope, he addresses the First Commandment, which says: “shall have no other gods before me. “You shall not make for yourself a graven image, or any likeness of anything that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth.” (Ex 20:3–4) He notes in particular the prohibition of any images which was basically idolatry.  In light of that prohibition, the Holy Father then writes: “God has given himself an ‘image’: in Christ who was made man. In him who was crucified, the denial of false images of God is taken to an extreme.” (SS 43) He then continues:

God now reveals his true face in the figure of the sufferer who shares man’s God-forsaken condition by taking it upon himself. This innocent sufferer has attained the certitude of hope: there is a God, and God can create justice in a way that we cannot conceive, yet we can begin to grasp it through faith. Yes, there is a resurrection of the flesh. There is justice. There is an “undoing” of past suffering, a reparation that sets things aright. (ibid.)

Because of Christ’s Resurrection, we are able to look at the world through different eyes, especially when we are faced with so many examples of suffering and injustice.  From a purely human perspective, those examples seem too much to overcome, that there is no way that all of these can be set aright.  The Holy Father explains that because of Christ’s Resurrection and the upcoming Last Judgment, the injustices of history do not have the final word.  Rather, we can turn to the Word of God Himself as He speaks about the Final Judgment as recorded in the final chapter of the Book of Revelation: “Behold, I am coming soon, bringing my recompense, to repay every one for what he has done. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the end.” (Rev 22:12–13) It is this final end and in this final promise that we place our hope, and with that, we can say in faith: “Amen. Come, Lord Jesus!” (Rev. 22:20)

As a reminder, the month of November is a time when we pray especially for the Poor Souls in Purgatory, who are assured of the hope of eternal life in Heaven and who rely on our prayers to help them to realize that hope.  A plenary indulgence for the Poor Souls is available from November 1-8 when we visit any cemetery and pray for them.  A plenary indulgence also requires that the person have the interior disposition of complete detachment from sin, that they sacramentally confess their sins, that they receive Holy Communion, and that they pray for the intentions of the Holy Father.  Regarding these conditions, the Church has clarified:

It is appropriate, but not necessary, that the sacramental Confession and especially Holy Communion and the prayer for the Pope’s intentions take place on the same day that the indulgenced work is performed; but it is sufficient that these sacred rites and prayers be carried out within several days (about 20) before or after the indulgenced act. Prayer for the Pope’s intentions is left to the choice of the faithful, but an “Our Father” and a “Hail Mary” are suggested. One sacramental Confession suffices for several plenary indulgences, but a separate Holy Communion and a separate prayer for the Holy Father’s intentions are required for each plenary indulgence.  (cf. Apostolic Penitentiary, Prot. N. 39/05/I)

I think most people answering that question would do a quick Google search and find that there are about 2.5 billion Christians around the world, around 1.4 billion of which are Catholic. That would be a good answer, and even those numbers are staggering. Still, that answer would be technically and truthfully incomplete. 

What is the Church? As St. Paul tells us in his letter to the Corinthians, “Now you are the body of Christ and individually members of it” (12:27). The Church then, is most basically the body of Christ – those human beings who have been joined to him by the saving grace of Baptism, the infusion of the Holy Spirit, and the bond of Charity. This unity is far deeper than the unity of a club or social organization, though it is more distinct than the unity of the parts of a physical body. As members of the Church, we make up a mystical body of Christ.

It is true, therefore, that all 2.5 billion Christians on earth are in some way tied to this body, at various levels of “attachment.” As Catholics, we joyfully believe that we possess all the sacramental means of remaining rooted in this body, as well as the fulness of the Truth that Jesus desires to light our way as members of his body. The body, however, is even bigger than this!

In fact, the Church has always maintained that our “membership” with the body is not ended after death. Heaven itself can simply be seen as an ultimate and perfected union with Christ’s body. All those in Purgatory too, those who will be in heaven but are in need of further purification after death, are members of this body. 

If this is true (and it is!), then the answer to that question, “How many people are in the Church?” is a number far higher than we can count. Every human being who has died in the grace of God now lives as a member of Christ’s body in eternal life.

Yesterday, the Church celebrated the feast of All Saints, on which we remember all those who are currently in Heaven. We recognize our unity with them still and our ability to relate to them, speak to them, and rely on their prayers for us. They are perfectly united with Jesus and await our ever deeper union with them during our lives on Earth and one day in Heaven with them.

Today, the Church celebrates the feast of All Souls, on which we remember all those who have died in God’s grace but are still being purified. They joyfully suffer this purification as their souls near the eternal rest of Heaven. We recognize our unity with them still and our ability to pray for them. 

A couple weeks ago I explained that St. Augustine taught that we, the body, are all one with Christ our Head. He called this unity the totus Christus – “the whole Christ.” We see through today’s teaching that this totus Christus includes not only all those members of the earthly pilgrim Church, but also the suffering Church of Purgatory, and the triumphant Church of Heaven. We are one body, one Church, united in Christ. We pray for one another, we speak to one another, and we await a true and lasting union in Heaven with our Head, Jesus Christ. 

The proper response to the magnitude of this reality is wonder and awe! I pray that you only grow to appreciate this unity more and more. God bless you on this All Souls Day.