Recent Catholic theology on purgatory.
By the mid Middle Ages, the common idea of hell, purgatory etc., owed more to the imaginations of Heronymous Bosch and Dante Alligheri than the content of Scripture. For St Catherine of Genoa, however, purgatory was not an objective place, but a subjective condition. For her, the fire of purgatory was an interior fire.
Contrary to modern trends Purgatory has not disappeared in Catholic theology (a disappearance that is argued primarily on ideological, rather than metaphysical, grounds).
The soul, says Catherine, tormented by the appetites and the insatiable hungers that derive from sin, make it impossible for the soul to rest in God (cf Psalm 45:11 "Be still and know that I am God") — the soul is incapable of finding its rest.
In death, beyond the veil of appearances, the wounded soul 'suffers' by the realisation of its error, and it is in this sense the soul becomes 'inflamed' with the healing immediacy of Divine Grace which, like a flame, purifies (cauterises) the soul from the dross of sin.
As Christ Himself warned, he who has ordered his life towards sin finds himself consumed by that purifying fire ... and He is spoken of as a consuming fire (cf Hebrews 12:29).
To protest against God in the name of justice is not helpful. God is justice and creates justice. And in His justice there is also grace. Both these things – justice and grace – must be seen in their correct inner relationship. Grace does not cancel out justice. It does not make wrong into right. It is not a sponge which wipes everything away, so that whatever someone has done on earth ends up being of equal value. Dostoevsky, for example, was right to protest against this kind of Heaven and this kind of grace in his novel "The Brothers Karamazov."
In death, our life-choice becomes definitive. Our life stands before the judge, the heart is weighed in the balance. Our choices, which in the course of an entire life takes on a certain shape, can have a variety of forms.
Paul begins by saying that Christian life is built upon a common foundation: Jesus Christ. This foundation endures. If we have stood firm on this foundation and built our life upon it, we know that it cannot be taken away from us, even in death. Then Paul continues: “Now if any one builds on the foundation with gold, silver, precious stones, wood, hay, straw – each man's work will become manifest; for the Day will disclose it, because it will be revealed with fire, and the fire will test what sort of work each one has done. If the work which any man has built on the foundation survives, he will receive a reward. If any man's work is burned up, he will suffer loss, though he himself will be saved, but only as through fire” (1 Corinthians 3:12-15).
In this text, it is evident that, in order to be saved, the soul will pass through "fire" so as to become fully open to receiving God and able to take its place at the table of the eternal marriage-feast.
Some recent theologians are of the opinion that the fire which both burns and saves is Christ himself, as Judge and Saviour. This encounter is the decisive act of judgement. Before His gaze all falsehood melts away, the truth of the self is revealed and, in the encounter with Him, as the sit to become truly itself, allowing it to be conformed to the divine image of the particular self (logoi) that rests eternally in the Logos of God.
All that we build during our lives can prove to be mere straw, pure bluster, and it collapses. Yet in the realisation of this encounter, which can by degree be as painful as it is sweet, when the impurity and sickness of our lives become evident to us, there lies salvation. His gaze, the touch of His heart heals us through an undeniably painful transformation "as through fire". But it is a blessed pain, in which the holy power of His love sears through us like a flame, enabling us to become totally ourselves and thus totally of God.
In this way the inter-relation between justice and grace also becomes clear: the way we live our lives is not immaterial, but our defilement does not stain us for ever if we have at least continued to reach out towards Christ, towards truth, towards the good, and towards love. Indeed, it has already been burned away through Christ's Passion. At the moment of judgement we experience and we absorb the overwhelming power of His love over all the evil in the world and in ourselves. The pain of love becomes our salvation and our joy.
One last note:
It is clear that we cannot calculate the “duration” of this transforming burning in terms of the chronological measurements of this world. The transforming “moment” of this encounter eludes any earthly time-reckoning. It is the heart's time, it is the time of "passage" to communion with God in the Body of Christ — the eternal moment, the forever now.
God bless,
Thomas
By the mid Middle Ages, the common idea of hell, purgatory etc., owed more to the imaginations of Heronymous Bosch and Dante Alligheri than the content of Scripture. For St Catherine of Genoa, however, purgatory was not an objective place, but a subjective condition. For her, the fire of purgatory was an interior fire.
Contrary to modern trends Purgatory has not disappeared in Catholic theology (a disappearance that is argued primarily on ideological, rather than metaphysical, grounds).
The soul, says Catherine, tormented by the appetites and the insatiable hungers that derive from sin, make it impossible for the soul to rest in God (cf Psalm 45:11 "Be still and know that I am God") — the soul is incapable of finding its rest.
In death, beyond the veil of appearances, the wounded soul 'suffers' by the realisation of its error, and it is in this sense the soul becomes 'inflamed' with the healing immediacy of Divine Grace which, like a flame, purifies (cauterises) the soul from the dross of sin.
As Christ Himself warned, he who has ordered his life towards sin finds himself consumed by that purifying fire ... and He is spoken of as a consuming fire (cf Hebrews 12:29).
To protest against God in the name of justice is not helpful. God is justice and creates justice. And in His justice there is also grace. Both these things – justice and grace – must be seen in their correct inner relationship. Grace does not cancel out justice. It does not make wrong into right. It is not a sponge which wipes everything away, so that whatever someone has done on earth ends up being of equal value. Dostoevsky, for example, was right to protest against this kind of Heaven and this kind of grace in his novel "The Brothers Karamazov."
In death, our life-choice becomes definitive. Our life stands before the judge, the heart is weighed in the balance. Our choices, which in the course of an entire life takes on a certain shape, can have a variety of forms.
Paul begins by saying that Christian life is built upon a common foundation: Jesus Christ. This foundation endures. If we have stood firm on this foundation and built our life upon it, we know that it cannot be taken away from us, even in death. Then Paul continues: “Now if any one builds on the foundation with gold, silver, precious stones, wood, hay, straw – each man's work will become manifest; for the Day will disclose it, because it will be revealed with fire, and the fire will test what sort of work each one has done. If the work which any man has built on the foundation survives, he will receive a reward. If any man's work is burned up, he will suffer loss, though he himself will be saved, but only as through fire” (1 Corinthians 3:12-15).
In this text, it is evident that, in order to be saved, the soul will pass through "fire" so as to become fully open to receiving God and able to take its place at the table of the eternal marriage-feast.
Some recent theologians are of the opinion that the fire which both burns and saves is Christ himself, as Judge and Saviour. This encounter is the decisive act of judgement. Before His gaze all falsehood melts away, the truth of the self is revealed and, in the encounter with Him, as the sit to become truly itself, allowing it to be conformed to the divine image of the particular self (logoi) that rests eternally in the Logos of God.
All that we build during our lives can prove to be mere straw, pure bluster, and it collapses. Yet in the realisation of this encounter, which can by degree be as painful as it is sweet, when the impurity and sickness of our lives become evident to us, there lies salvation. His gaze, the touch of His heart heals us through an undeniably painful transformation "as through fire". But it is a blessed pain, in which the holy power of His love sears through us like a flame, enabling us to become totally ourselves and thus totally of God.
In this way the inter-relation between justice and grace also becomes clear: the way we live our lives is not immaterial, but our defilement does not stain us for ever if we have at least continued to reach out towards Christ, towards truth, towards the good, and towards love. Indeed, it has already been burned away through Christ's Passion. At the moment of judgement we experience and we absorb the overwhelming power of His love over all the evil in the world and in ourselves. The pain of love becomes our salvation and our joy.
One last note:
It is clear that we cannot calculate the “duration” of this transforming burning in terms of the chronological measurements of this world. The transforming “moment” of this encounter eludes any earthly time-reckoning. It is the heart's time, it is the time of "passage" to communion with God in the Body of Christ — the eternal moment, the forever now.
God bless,
Thomas
