Question 8.135
8.135 How is purgatory defined?
I am not unaware of the fact that this notion is very difficult to understand. Some saints have said a lot about this question, for example, Catherine of Siena, who wrote: “If miserable men had any idea of what purgatory and hell are, they would prefer to die ten times than to endure such tortures for a single day.” Likewise, Saint Augustine did not hesitate to address this subject in his sermons: “The apostle says: ‘He will be saved as though through fire. . .’ We think little of this fire because of the words ‘he will be saved’. It is certain, however, that this saving fire will be more terrible than all the sufferings that a man could endure in this life.”
Who is telling the truth? Saint Augustine or we ourselves, who think more or less vaguely that purgatory is an outmoded notion of no interest at all?
Indeed, I would like to start from my animist African roots. Among my pagan ancestors, when a man died of an abrupt illness or in a tragic accident, the body was interrogated. They asked the deceased directly what caused his sudden death.
For example, I remember very clearly a pagan man, originally from a neighboring village, who had died in Ourous as the result of very serious burns. In order to enter his house, the funeral procession would have had to cross a river. But customs forbid crossing a river with a dead body. He was therefore buried not far from Ourous, in the bush. At the time of the funeral ceremonies, I saw those who were carrying his body go forward and then back, only to go suddenly to the right and to the left. I asked my mother the reasons for these strange movements. She explained to me that it was necessary to ask the dead man, who answered by the signs of the movements that he gave to the pallbearers. . . I was very doubtful, but Mama repeated that the power of the dead man was the explanation for these gestures. I remember that the master of ceremonies posed a wide variety of questions to the deceased: the quality of his relationship with his wife, how well he observed customs, his honesty at work, or his respect for his ancestors. Indeed, animists believe that the soul goes wandering in misery and suffering, compelled to do humiliating servile tasks, until it is washed of all its earthly faults. Then, after this period of purification, it will be able to return to the village of the ancestors, which is the equivalent of paradise. Without this ritual, which is the moment of truth, the soul is liable to languish in boredom, isolated, without ties to his brethren. When the soul wanders, it can upset the peace of mind of the living and trouble their business; sacrifices and libations at the foot of sacred pillars are designed to help these souls to return to the village of the ancestors.
In many primitive religions, purgatory is a moment of wandering before “paradise”, which man can experience if his soul is purified according to the traditional rules. Animists did not know revelation for many centuries, but they did have the natural insight into the necessity of a place of transition.
Saint Augustine grew up in a pagan culture, then made the decision to convert to Christianity. His vision of purgatory is therefore particularly interesting. In various passages in his works he explains this belief in more detail. He seems to have had great influence, especially on two points. On the one hand, Augustine fixes the time of the trial of purgatory in the next world: it takes place between the individual judgment, after the death of each man, and the collective judgment or Last Judgment at the end of time. On the other hand, he emphasizes that this trial that necessarily leads to paradise must not be imagined as an easy salvation, because it is very formidable.
For Christians, paradise is the place where men will live in perfect communion with God. It is not possible to reach that light as long as our soul bears the stains of its earthly sins. Purgatory is therefore a time of purification, a moment of preparation for the great journey to God. As during long boat trips, it is a sort of quarantine for sick souls.
We cannot approach God without having a soul that is completely purified; we must be completely refined by the fire of his love. In order to enter into the light of the Father, it is necessary to be irradiated.
Saint Thérèse of Lisieux wrote astonishing things about purgatory: “Listen, this is how great your confidence should be! It should make you believe that purgatory is not made for you, but only for the souls that failed to recognize God’s merciful love or who doubted its power to purify. With those who strive to respond to this love, Jesus is ‘blind’ and ‘does not count’ [their sins], or rather, in order to purify them, he counts only on this fire of charity that ‘covers all faults’ and, especially, on the fruits of his perpetual Sacrifice. Yes, despite your little infidelities, you can hope to go straight to heaven, because the good Lord desires it even more than you do, and he will surely give you what you have hoped to receive of his mercy. Your confidence and your resignation are what he will reward; his justice, which knows your frailty, has been divinely arranged so as to achieve this. As you rely on this assurance, just make sure even more that he does not lose any love!”
Unquestionably, modern Western rationalism has great difficulty in understanding the reality of purgatory. In discussing such a topic, we can see the distance there can be between certain societies and the religious sphere. They can see only fairy tales in it.
Fundamentally, the man who does not want to understand purgatory is no longer able to know who God is. If God is love, then that love burns absolutely and immeasurably. When Moses meets God, he sees a burning fire from which comes a voice that says to him: “I am who am.” The voice tells him not to come too near and to remove his dusty sandals.
We cannot approach God like romantics taking a stroll, seeking nice emotions in an English garden. … God demands that we be purified of all the disorderly states that weigh down our heart and darken our soul.
The saints are immediately in the joy of heaven. But for most human beings, purgatory is a difficult, arid antechamber on the way to our Creator, who wants to forgive our temporal faults. God does not render justice in a spirit of vengeance; his measure is not that of men. And so purgatory is a renewal of man. The old man goes away, and the new man comes into the purifying tenderness of God.
Purgatory, therefore, is born of divine love. It is a purifying fire that some identify with God himself.