Ask a typical evangelical Christian what will happen to his soul when he dies, and he will likely respond, “Well, it will go straight to heaven, of course.” Having been surrounded by evangelical Protestantism my whole life (I grew up in evangelical churches, attended preschool and elementary school at an evangelical Christian academy, graduated from an evangelical Christian university, and am now studying at an evangelical theological institution) this is what I grew up hearing and believing. As such, the Roman Catholic notion of purgatory, the Eastern Orthodox idea that the soul awaits final judgment in the ‘abode of the dead,’ and suchlike, were off-limits because they were too “Catholic”—and, quite candidly, they seemed rather fantastical to me anyway.

Now, however, try as I might, I simply cannot reconcile the traditional evangelical Protestant understanding of the course of the afterlife with both Scripture and reason. As a result, I’ve found the notion of purgatory—or perhaps the Eastern Orthodox and similar Calvinist conceptions of the soul consciously awaiting final judgment, or perhaps better yet some blend of the two—to better suit both my own reasoning (inasmuch as I have reasoned it out) and what little can be gleaned from Scripture about the matter. My rationale follows in list form.

1. Scripture has precious little to say about the matter, at least in explicit terms. What can be gleaned comes only through implicit references, many of which, at times, seem inconsistent. Evangelicals sometimes argue that in fact there are explicit passages supporting the oft-quoted mantra “to be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord.” Indeed, there are at most a handful of passages that, at first glance, may seem to support the traditional Protestant view in a fairly straightforward way (cf. e.g. Deut 18:10-12; 2 Cor 5:8; Phil 1:21-23; 1 Pet 3:18). When read carefully and honestly, however, it is quite obvious that these passages no more explicitly support the notion of immediate entrance into heaven at death than the notion of something like purgatory. Some of them, in fact, are about something else altogether.

To be fair, the passages cited by Roman Catholics in support of purgatory are foggy as well (cf. e.g. Matt 18:23-25; 1 Cor 3:11-15; 1 Pet 3:19; 2 Tim 1:16-18; Rev 21:27), though it hardly needs mention.

It seems clear to me, then, that the precise course of the afterlife cannot be definitively determined sola scriptura. But Scripture does not rule out either of these views—no, not even something like purgatory!

2. God cannot tolerate the presence of sin. This is a rudimentary theme that dominates Scripture, from Genesis to Revelation. If God cannot tolerate the presence of sin, then one cannot enter God’s full presence if one is not entirely pure in heart, that is to say in Wesleyan terms, entirely sanctified (cf. Rev 21:27).

So, what of those who aren’t yet entirely sanctified when they die? Their debt has been paid and they will surely enter heaven, but they cannot enter still marred to any degree by sin. The encounter with God requires holiness. Protestant theology, insofar as I perceive it, has failed to satisfactorily answer the question it was left with when it rejected the doctrine of purgatory five hundred years ago.

3. The final judgment has not yet occurred. Obviously. In general, Christians agree that when one dies, one experiences particular judgment, that is, the immediate judgment of one’s eternal destiny. And then what until the final judgment? Here is where the road splits in many directions. Without taking the time to expound all of the nuances and distinctions of Christian theology on this matter, all of which I am not familiar with anyway, I will simply say that the Eastern Orthodox explication of the state of the soul between particular judgment and final judgment is the most satisfactory to my own reasoning.

The Eastern Orthodox understanding is that after death, the soul awaits the final judgment in the ‘abode of the dead.’ Depending on whether one is judged righteous or unrighteous at particular judgment, one’s experience while awaiting final judgment will be that of paradise or suffering—a foretaste of one’s ultimate destiny after the final judgment, but not yet the full experience of heaven or hell. Calvin held a very similar understanding. Insofar as I perceive it, this explanation deals most directly and logically with the position of the soul between the particular and final judgments and the bodily resurrection, though it is not without difficulties, of course.

4. It’s tradition. Like it or not, Protestants, tradition is highly important to Christian theology—and I’m not talking about red carpet and hymn books. When Scripture is vague on certain questions of theology, we must look to the next most authoritative thing, which is Christian tradition. Much of what Christians understand about God, salvation, etc. that cannot be found explicitly within the pages of Scripture has been handed down to us from the very earliest Christians, who were instructed by the apostles, who were students of Jesus. Although in many cases it took several hundred years before certain doctrines became fully developed, most can ultimately be traced back to, or at least very near to, apostolic teaching. Christian tradition, then, must be authoritative (though, of course, it isn’t infallible).

Though the dogmatic definition of purgatory and the name “purgatory” were not developed until the thirteenth century, the notion was dominant from Christianity’s inception. The notion of purgatory may be found in rather precise terms in the writings of many of the Church Fathers, such as Irenaeus (c. 130-202), Clement (c. 150-215), Origen (c. 185-254), Chrysostom (c. 347-407), and Augustine (354-430). Even Paul offered a prayer for his departed friend Onesiphorus (2 Tim 1:16-18), from which we may infer that Paul must have understood the soul of Onesiphorus to be in something like purgatory.

My hunch is that, when the reformer Martin Luther rejected the doctrine of purgatory in the sixteenth century, his contention was primarily with the practice of indulgences, and that contention resulted ultimately in his rejection of purgatory. I could be wrong, of course. But it is certain that, when Luther rejected the notion of purgatory, he discounted and discarded 1500 years of Christian tradition. Perhaps he was right—but 1500 years of Christian tradition handed down from the earliest Church Fathers, and perhaps even the apostles and Jesus, is a thing to be carefully and prayerfully reckoned with.

Conclusion

Plenty more could be said, naturally. After thinking on this for several months, however, I am inclined to believe that purgatory, or something like it, indeed does exist, and necessarily must. Perhaps it is the case that at death, souls experience particular judgment and then await the final judgment and the bodily resurrection in the abode of the dead, either in paradise or anguish, at which time those souls who are not yet entirely sanctified may become prepared to enjoy God’s full presence in heaven. Perhaps I’m wrong.

What do you think?