A kinder, gentler purgatory

Stafford BettyA few years ago a despairing Catholic called me to ask if it was true that the church no longer believed in hell or purgatory, and that even he, about to commit suicide, would be enfolded in the forgiving arms of Jesus at the moment of death. I told him the church officially taught otherwise, and that, in addition, the evidence from other quarters -- not just Catholic teaching -- pointed in a very different direction from what he surmised. (He changed his mind about suicide and has since become a close friend.)

Not only is some of that extra-Catholic evidence fascinating, sometimes even inspiring, in its own right, but it helps to bolster the church’s message that heaven and the presence of God don’t come cheap. On the other hand, the horrifying images evoked in Dante’s Purgatorio -- the ones I was raised with as a boy -- are nowhere in sight.

“This is a wonderful experience, though harrowing at times. But very cleansing and bringing new hope.” These are allegedly the words of Frances Banks, an Anglican nun dead for a month at the time she said them. Banks is communicating through her friend, Helen Greaves, an English medium, who published their “collaboration” in 1969 under the title Testimony of Light.

newscom: Purgatory is depicted in a painting by Hieronymus Bosch (1450-1516).There are many works like it in print -- literally dozens -- that claim to be messages from the dead. Some are fraudulent, but others are obviously sincere and even occasionally vouched for by respected ecclesiastical authorities. These latter are impressively similar and suggest that they are describing the same place. None describes a place where one meets God, and Jesus is usually quite out of range. Regrets over the failures and mistakes of earth are constantly voiced, but there are no flames. And all punishment is potentially instructive.

“Purgatory” is too strong a word to describe the experiences of many of the dead. It would be more accurate to say that their characters are being purified rather than their sins purged. But others live in a world where suffering and depression are prominent, some in an anguish that seems to go on indefinitely. Names for this lower region of the afterworld vary, but “Sphere of the Unprogressed” is typical.

Frederic Myers, a Victorian lecturer in classics at Cambridge and dead for more than 20 years when he came through in the 1920s, holds out hope, though, for even the worst of us. Using the hand of the gifted Irish medium Geraldine Cummins, Mr. Myers writes: “The history of the cruel man in the hereafter would make a book which I am not permitted to write. I can only briefly add that his soul or mind becomes gradually purified through his identification with the sufferings of his victims.”

All this is consistent with traditional teachings on purgatory. And there are other important similarities. Unlike Martin Luther, who taught that praying for the dead was illogical since they were either in heaven and had no need of our prayers or were in hell and were only tortured by them, Catholics have always insisted that prayers brought relief to the souls in purgatory. Some of the church doctors have even said that it’s our duty to pray for them.

The extra-Catholic sources we’re looking at here strongly endorse, without exception, the Catholic view. Frances Banks writes: “Prayers and good thoughts for those who have left the earth life, by their fellows still in incarnation, are a great aid to our work here. The prayer forms, and the potency of good thoughts, cause a quickened vibration to reach the one prayed for.”

Leslie Stringfellow, a 20-year-old Texan who died in 1886, wrote (allegedly, let us remember) through a planchette to his parents, “I don’t believe there are two parents in the world who have so constantly remembered their son as you have.” He delights in their loving attention and contrasts himself to others who “never receive the gift of a single flower” and feel themselves alone and forgotten by their loved ones, to their great sorrow.

It is noteworthy that prayers are never spoken of as a kind of spiritual currency that somehow reduces one’s time in purgatory. Rather, they function like kind words and encouragement that all of us, living out our lives here on earth, appreciate and need to get through the day.

It’s also noteworthy that the prayers of the dead for us are efficacious -- a view shared by many of the church doctors. As Robert Bellarmine, a 17th-century Jesuit saint, puts it, souls in purgatory are “superior to us in love of God, and in intimacy of union with him,” and can therefore influence God on our behalf. The New Age purgatory described here strongly endorses this view. It is well known that the great composer Johannes Brahms thought that most of his inspiration came from on high, and that he was in effect a medium for deceased musicians.

Otherworldly communicators consistently claim that many of our world’s great artistic achievements and momentous inventions were impressed on our minds from their world, a realm where God is not present but where his influence is felt more directly than on earth.

The world beyond death that comes through mediums is as varied as human nature itself. All such accounts mention higher worlds that souls can work toward. Some accounts mention reincarnation as an option for those who have more earth-side lessons to learn. Still others mention a wide range of planets, some denser than our own earth, others much more rarified and “heavenly.” Whatever is needed for soul-making is available.

Stafford Betty is professor of religion at California State University, Bakersfield.

National Catholic Reporter June 27, 2008