Purgatory, Atonement and the Self

Chapter 2 in Purgatory: Philosophical Dimensions edd. Kristof K.P. Vanhoutte and Benjamin W. McCraw (Sep 2017) Purgatory, Atonement and the Self The Protestant Rejection of Purgatory Almost forty years passed after the break with Rome before the Convocation of the national Church of England settled on its Thirty-Nine Articles of Religion. Even then, the interpretation and authority of these Articles remained sufficiently open and uncertain to leave scope for competing slants on, for instance, the nature of Christ, the theology of holy communion, and the doctrine of predestination. The result was that these topics, among others, subsequently generated considerable debate, and even sharp disagreement, within Anglicanism. This is not true of all the articles, however. Consider Article XXII– Of Pu gato . This declares that The ‘o ish Do trine concerning Purgatory, Pardons, Worshipping and Adoration as well as of Images as of Relics, and also Invocation of Saints, is a fond1 thing, vainly invented, and grounded upon o a a t of “ iptu e, ut athe epug a t to the Wo d of God . The Article covers much more than its advertised topic, and in the nineteenth century, there was deep disagreement among Anglicans about the use of images and the invocation of saints. But by contrast, with respect to the subject of purgatory itself there does not seem to have been much subsequent dispute, or even any discussion. This is not because Article XXII has the character of a final word. On the contrary, the Article is rather puzzling. It implies, without actually stating, that purgatory was one of the defining doctrines of the ‘o ish hu h, when in fact, doctrinal pronouncement on the subject of purgatory came relatively late to the pre-Reformation church. It is true that something of the idea had been around for centuries and was a subject of discussion among several of the Church Fathers. Augustine, for example, discusses it in Book XXI of the City of God. He regarded the existence of purgatory, however, as a theological option – something that might or might not be true – and in this reflected a generally held view that it was not central to Christian teaching. Belief in purgatory only received official recognition some centuries later, at the Council of Lyons, after Aquinas had formulated a more detailed account that proved influential. The do t i e s re-affirmation at the Council of Trent (1545-63) was in response to the Protestant Reformation, certainly, but even then many other, more pressing theological issues predominated, with the result that purgatory did not figure very prominently. Its precise content, too, 1 fo d i the a hai se se of foolishl 1|Page edulous. Chapter 2 in Purgatory: Philosophical Dimensions edd. Kristof K.P. Vanhoutte and Benjamin W. McCraw (Sep 2017) remained somewhat vague and neither the affirmation at Lyons nor at Trent lent any support to the popular notion of purgatory as a place or location2. Article XXII is also questionable in its assertion that belief in purgatory is g ou ded upo o a a t i “ iptu e . I fa t, the earliest discussions of the idea were prompted by a verse in Paul s first letter to the Corinthians where he i agi es the da of judg e t as a o asio o hi h fi e ill test the worth of each perso s o k .3 To this passage we can add three or four more from the New Testament, as well as few from the Old. These uestio as to hethe pu gato a a legiti atel Thirdly, by placing pu gato ot a ou t to a a t , ut the aise a legiti ate e de la ed epug a t to the Wo d of God . a d pa do s side by side in a single condemnation, the Article suggests that the doctrine of purgatory and the practice of indulgences automatically go together. Probably this association did indeed hold in the minds of ordinary pre-Reformation Christians, but the doctrine and the practice are at best contingently related. Discussion of purgatory long pre-dated the sale of indulgences. Nor is there any very obvious connection between purgatory and the invocation of saints. It seems likely that among those who drafted the Thirty-Nine Articles a sense prevailed that belief in purgatory was in some way allied to praying for the dead, especially in ways of which the reformers disapproved. But the Article does not in fact mention this topic4, and as a matter of Christian history, evidence of prayers for the dead, especially in the context of holy communion, can be found at a very early stage and well before any theological discussion of purgatory. Article XXII, then, opens up more questions than it resolves. Despite this, it seems to have prompted virtually no significant theological reflection about purgatory5. Nor did anything else. It is striking, indeed, just how little material there is on the topic. Books devoted to it are exceptionally few in number, and the topic has not been included in most encyclopedias of theology and religion, even the monumental twelve volume Encyclopedia of Religion and Ethics edited by James Hastings and published over a twenty year period (1908-27). One liberating consequence of this is that any exploration of the subject has to pursue it in hitherto unconsidered ways. There is thus the relatively unusual possibility of saying something on an interesting theological topic that has not been said before. Accordingly, this 2 This remains true of its affirmation in the 1992 Catechism of the Catholic Church. 1 Corinthians 3:13 4 Nor does any other Article. 5 An exception, notable for its rarity, are three lectures on Article XXII, delivered and published in 1901 by A J Mason, Lad Ma ga et s ‘eade i Di i it at the U i e sit of Ca idge. 3 2|Page Chapter 2 in Purgatory: Philosophical Dimensions edd. Kristof K.P. Vanhoutte and Benjamin W. McCraw (Sep 2017) essay will be an exercise in conceptual imagination, an attempt to construct a conception of purgatory that connects it both with a more central Christian doctrine, and some interesting issues in philosophy. Punishment and Purgation Although not much has been written about purgatory, it is not quite true that thinking about it needs to begin de novo. The e se f o Paul s Epistle to the Corinthians makes use of the image of fire as a test of some sort, echoing possibly the reference in Malachi : to a efi e s fi e . “i e Chapte Book of Revelation efe s to o de atio i a lake of fi e , this al ead 0 of the aises a uestio . How does the fire of purgatory differ from the fire of hell? Traditional uses of fire suggest an answer. Sometimes fire is used to purify, as in the refining of metals, and sometimes it is used for destruction, as in the burning of stubble. For human beings, of course, the encounter with fire is painful, and so it also signifies suffering. Now just as fire can serve two contrasting purposes, pain and suffering have correspondingly different ends and outcomes. Sometime they are valuable as causes of education and improvement (as in the p o e , the u t hild fea s the fla e , and sometimes as forms of chastisement and punishment. It seems natural to suppose that whereas the fires of hell are a means of punishment, the suffering of the souls in purgatory is a means of improvement. That, after all, is what the word pu gato a d its asso iate pu gatio i pl . It seems to follow, as the Fathers supposed, that while the souls in hell are the souls of the damned, and subject to fires of perpetual punishment, the souls in purgatory are the souls of the saved, further purified by fire. They are on their way to heaven, and the fi e the e pe ie e ill ake the ette fitted fo a life of lessed ess i the p ese e of God. This way of thinking suggests that the distinction between the fires of hell and the fires of purgatory can be used to good explanatory effect. Yet this rather neat differentiation is not as easily sustained as might be supposed. Of what is the soul in purgatory purged? A o ious a s e is si . But ho e e o ious, this answer is not very satisfactory. The most central Christian affirmation is the forgiveness of sins by means of the saving work of Christ. For sinners to be saved, all that is required on their behalf is a penitential 3|Page Chapter 2 in Purgatory: Philosophical Dimensions edd. Kristof K.P. Vanhoutte and Benjamin W. McCraw (Sep 2017) acknowledgement of sins committed and a faithful acceptance of their remission through Christ6. These two elements are both necessary and sufficient. So what is there left for purgatory to accomplish? How could true penitence and faith require that there be a still further step before admission to the beatific vision? It is from reflection on this issue that the logi of pu gato e e ges, to use an expression of Ja ues Le Goff s 7. Suppose I commit a great sin – say the abduction, rape and murder of a child. Horrible though my actions have been, Christians hold (or ought to) that through faith in Christ I can be forgiven. At the same time, no one supposes that forgiveness somehow remedies the matter by undoing the sinful act, or that forgiveness ameliorates the terrible pain and suffering my action has brought upon others. These things remain. The truth of this opens up an important distinction between remission and atonement. Even if what I have done has been forgiven, it still seems morally necessary that I should atone for my actions. This addition is essential, surely, if we are to preserve a morally relevant difference between those who commit sinful acts like rape and murder, and those who do not. A concept of forgiveness that eliminated any distinction would seem morally unacceptable to most people. Now by the nature of the case, atonement must take the form of a penalty or a burden that is imposed on the person who atones. I cannot atone for my actions if the conduct required of me for this purpose is easy or pleasurable. One familiar line of thought, then, is that for the purposes of atonement penance is needed as well as penitence8. But what if, though penitent, I die before my penance is complete? Is there not a residual measure of atonement waiting to be made? It is precisely here, it might be said, that we uncover the necessity of purgatory, because it is in or through post-mortem purgatory that the necessary penance of the penitent is completed. Interestingly, though, if we pursue the logical implications of this line of thought, we must abandon the earlier differentiation between the fires of purgatory and the fires of hell. Both have to be punitive, and in much the same way. Consequently, the idea of efi i g fire drops out of the picture. The result is that if the fires of purgatory and hell do differ, it must be in some other respect. It is easy to see what that is -- duration. Purgatory comes to an end, but hell is forever. 6 The topic is philosophically rather more complex than this straightforward assertion suggests. See, for instance, Joh Ha e, Fo gi e ess, Justifi atio a d ‘e o iliatio i The Wisdom of the Christian Faith, ed. Paul K Moser and Michael T McFall, Cambridge University Press, (2101) pp.77-96 7 The Birth of Purgatory, Chapter 7 8 In this connection Merold Westphal o t asts the itual of hu ilit that pe ite e e ui es, ith the itual of hu iliatio that o stitutes pe a e. “ee ‘epe te e a d “elf-K o ledge i Mose a d M Fall pp. 9-57 4|Page Chapter 2 in Purgatory: Philosophical Dimensions edd. Kristof K.P. Vanhoutte and Benjamin W. McCraw (Sep 2017) Having been led to this conclusion, the connection with indulgences becomes more evident, and thus brings us to the heart of the Protestant objection to purgatory. If purgatory is only for a time, then, depending on the penance required of each penitent, that time will be longer or shorter. What determines the length of time? The possibility opens up that before they die penitents might find some method or means to secure post- o te ti e off -- special acts of devotion and contrition, perhaps, or exceptional generosity to the Church. Already, it is easy to see a basis for some anxiety about this possibility. Can penance properly so called be offset in this way? If so, in what sense can it be described as morally necessary? Suppose we leave this aside. Even so, it is difficult to avoid a greater anxiety-- that the means of offsetting post-mortem penance could be subject to manipulation and corruption. In the eyes of many, that is precisely what the practice of indulgences allowed. By becoming subject to financial transaction, indulgences subverted acts of devotion and generosity. They emptied these actions of any true devotion or generosity, and effectively permitted mere compliance with a scale of charges financial or otherwise, levied by a clerical class that purported to possess the spiritual power to reduce purgatorial sentences, and was willing to exercise this power in exchange for a specified benefit of some sort. It remains to be observed, nevertheless, that the sale of indulgences, however objectionable, was (and would be) a purely contingent result of the belief in purgatory as a period of punishment, not a logical implication of the conception itself. History is always complex, but let us agree that human wickedness on the part of some clergy and church authorities saw an opportunity to further their desire for wealth and power by exploiting the idea of purgatory, the fear of punishment and the theological ignorance of ordinary people. Abuse of this kind may give us reason to reject the whole practice of indulgences, but this does not mean that they strike to the heart of the idea of purgatory itself. Even if the connection with indulgences is severed, however, there is a different, deeper and more central objection to be found elsewhere. Purgatory drastically diminishes the role of Christ in the redemption of human beings. That is because it effectively abandons an essential connection with the doctrine of the Atonement. God forgives penitents, all will agree. But why? God forgives not because of thei pe ite tial state of i d, ho e e si e e, ut e ause Ch ist s sa ifi e o the C oss has atoned for the sins of the whole world. The moralists are right that penitence without penance is not atonement. If Christ has atoned for our sins, however, what need could there be for additional atoning penance on our part? What need, accordingly, could there be for purgatory? 5|Page Chapter 2 in Purgatory: Philosophical Dimensions edd. Kristof K.P. Vanhoutte and Benjamin W. McCraw (Sep 2017) The Doctrine of Atonement The do t i e of Ch ist s Ato e e t does ot appea i a of the th ee p i ipal eeds of the Chu h – Apostles , Athanasian or Nicene. This may be because few have disputed its centrality to the Christian faith. Yet some well-known theological differences have arisen between alternative explanations of precisely how the Crucifixion secures the atonement of sin. We can identify four main ways in which atonement has been conceived. The first, which owes much to Origen, builds on verses in the Gospels of Matthew and Mark9, and e plo s the idea of a so . “ata holds hu a it hostage, a d by his death on the Cross, Christ paid the ransom necessary for Satan to set us free. A second explanation, advanced by Anselm, draws on Romans, Hebrews and the first letter of John10. It invokes the idea of propitiatory sa ifi e. God s justly fierce wrath is set to consume humanity for its wickedness. No ordinary sacrifices, such as the priests of old could make, can avert the divine wrath. Only the unique sacrifice of Jesus can wholly assuage divine anger. The third explanation, articulated most forcefully by Calvin and the Protestant reformers, employs the idea of penal substitution . God s justi e e ui es that guilt must be punished. God incarnate, in the perfect humanity of Jesus, voluntarily bears the punishment that humankind deserves, and thus atonement is made for the sins of the world. I this a , God s justi e and mercy are reconciled. Finally, a fourth explanation, articulated by Abelard and motivated by a eje tio of the pi tu e of sinne s i the ha ds of a a g God 11 employs the idea that atonement comes through the imitation of Christ and faithful obedience to him. I have explored the respective philosophical merits of these four explanations elsewhere12. For present purposes, the one to focus on is penal substitution. As we saw, A ui as s o e de eloped account of purgatory rests on a conviction that forgiveness does not simply return things to how they were. We cannot solve the problem of horribly wrongful acts by moral air brushing of so e ki d that makes it appear as though these acts had never been performed in the first place. Consequently, when 9 Matthew 20:28 and Mark 10.45 Romans 3.25, Hebrews 2:17, I John 2:2 and 4:7 11 The title of a famous sermon by Jonathan Edwards (1703-1758). 12 “ee hapte o Ato e e t i The Cambridge Companion to Christian Philosophical Theology ed. Charles Tallaferro and Chad Meister, Cambridge University Press (2010) 10 6|Page Chapter 2 in Purgatory: Philosophical Dimensions edd. Kristof K.P. Vanhoutte and Benjamin W. McCraw (Sep 2017) sins have been forgiven, there remains a moral residue. This residue requires not simply acknowledgement, but atonement. That is why penitence without penance is insufficient. The doctrine of the Atonement, obviously, accommodates this requirement. The sins of the wicked who repent are atoned for, because Christ has borne the penalties that constitute atonement. The theo of pe al su stitutio , u like the theo ies of a so , sacrifice and imitation, takes full account of the internal relationship between punishment and atonement, and thereby more adequately explains how the human sinfulness that has estranged humanity from God may be overcome in such a way that its moral seriousness is not diminished. This is its principal merit. Yet elsewhere it encounters a major objection, expressly raised by Kant13. How can the actions of a sinner be atoned for by someone other than the sinner? Surely justice requires that any atoning penance must be paid by the evildoer. Ho the is su stitutio possi le? Moreover, the problem is intensified if, as Christian belief holds of Christ, the substitute is perfectly innocent, because this doubles the injustice. If Christ really is the penal substitute for sinners, then those who are truly guilty suffer nothing, while someone who is wholly innocent suffers greatly. To address this problem properly, it is necessary to consider some recurrent issues in legal theory and the philosophy of punishment. Wherein exactly does the injustice of penal substitution lie? Initially it is plausible to invoke this principle of justice -- The i o e t ought ot to e pu ished, a d the guilt ought ot to go f ee . E e o e a epts this as a asi p i iple hi h s ste s of justice must be guided, and it seems clear that penal substitution violates it. We ought to ask, though, how adequate this principle is. Now while it does discriminate between innocence and guilt, and tells us how to treat every innocent person, it fails to tell us how to discriminate justly within the class of the guilty. Some such discrimination is essential, however, because not every guilty person warrants the same degree of punishment. It depends on the offence. It would be deeply unjust to treat petty thieves in the same way as murderers. Accordingly, there is reason to hold that this first principle is not in fact basic, but simply one application of a more fundamental principle -- the pu ish e t ust fit the i e . Or to put it more precisely, the severity of a punishment must match the gravity of the crime. Clearly, any punishment will be too severe for innocence, and no punishment will not be severe enough, even for the least g a e i e. I othe 13 o ds, hat fo o e ie e I shall all the fit ess p i iple su su es Immanuel Kant, Religion within the Boundaries of Mere Reason, ed Allen Wood, trans George Di Giovanni, Cambridge University Press, (1999) p. 6 7|Page Chapter 2 in Purgatory: Philosophical Dimensions edd. Kristof K.P. Vanhoutte and Benjamin W. McCraw (Sep 2017) the distinction between guilt and innocence, while also allowing us to act justly with respect to different degrees of wrongdoing. According to the fitness principle it is a requirement of natural justice that crime and punishment match each other in some way. This already raises a difficulty for the deterrence theory of punishment, despite its widespread popularity. There are no grounds for thinking that the effectiveness of a punishment as a deterrent in any way matches the gravity of the offence it deters. Draconian punishments and exemplary sentences for relatively minor offences are likely to deter potential wrongdoers, whereas murderers are rarely (if ever) deterred by the prospect of punishment14. In short, efficacy and justice too easily part company. That is one of the reasons that has led many legal theorists to reject deterrence and opt for a retributivist theory; people should be punished for what they have done, not for what they, or others, might do. A retributivist theory, however, will not quite serve in the present context. Retributivists hold that people should be punished because they deserve to be punished, and not for any other reason. Suppose we agree with this, and supplement it with the fitness principle. People should be punished because they deserve to be punished, and punished with a degree of severity that matches the gravity of thei offe se. This still leaves unanswered the question of the standard or measure by which severity and gravity are to be matched. It is at this point that retribution often becomes confused or conflated with revenge. The victims of crime (and/or their relatives) often want the satisfaction of seeing their assailants suffer in the way that they have made others suffer. This vengeful feeling is understandable from a human point of view, but as John Locke points out15, punishments dictated by vengeful feeling, however understandable, are very likely to exceed the gravity of the offence. The degree of suffering that, as a matter of fact, is required to assuage the feelings of victims may well exceed the degree suffering of suffering that justly reflects the wrongness of the action being punished16. What is so eti es k o 14 as i ti justi e , i othe o ds, is highl sus epti le to pa tialit 17 . Though people often argue a priori in this context, the deterrent effect of a punishment is a strictly empirical matter. The severest punishments may not in fact deter the gravest of crimes. There is no evidence that terrorists are deterred by the death penalty for terrorism. Why would suicide bombers fear execution? 15 John Locke, Second Treatise of Civil Government §13 16 This works the other way as well, of course. A victim might be satisfied with a degree of suffering insufficient to match the gravity of the offense they suffered. 17 The e a e alte ati e epa ati e a d e p essi e theo ies of pu ish e t that ake the i olvement of victims a requirement of justice, but I ignore them here. 8|Page Chapter 2 in Purgatory: Philosophical Dimensions edd. Kristof K.P. Vanhoutte and Benjamin W. McCraw (Sep 2017) Lo ke e p essl set to o e side the uestio of hat he alls telling phrase he refers to pu ish e t easu es of pu ish e t , ut i a aki g a ill a gai to the Offe de 18 . This way of speaking casts the idea of punishment into the realms of a quasi-commercial transaction. The same context is i oked he , u h oe o o l , people speak of offe de s ha i g paid thei de t to so iet . Now the concept of an offense as debt, and punishment as the payment of a debt, will not give detailed o te t to easu es o pu ish e t , ut it suggests a way of thinking that can prove illuminating in the present context once we return to the concept of penal substitution. Suppose I justly incur a financial penalty that I am unable to pay, and suppose that someone else pays it for me. The debt is then paid, and my status as a debtor is expunged. These facts remain, regardless of who paid the debt. Of course it is plausible to think that there is a residual obligation on my part – at the very least, to convey my gratitude to the person who paid the debt. It might also be plausible to claim that justice will only have been done if, eventually, I pay back something equivalent to the money that was paid on my behalf – perhaps by some sort of service. I shall not examine this contention here, but assume it to be true. The point to be emphasized, however, is that, even if we make eventual repayment a requirement of justice, it is not necessary for the perpetrator of the offense to be the person who first pays it back. It is only necessary that, in the end, I (so to speak) become the person who pays the fine. I do this when, in whatever way, I properly compensate the person for the debt that has been paid on my behalf. We can apply this line of thought to the doctrine of the Atonement. Human beings are, in a phrase from the Book of Common Prayer, tied a d ou d the hai of thei si s . That is h the cannot pay the debt that accrues to sin. Jesus, being fully human but without sin, was not chained in this way. The service of God that is perfect freedom and that Jesus exemplified, is what enabled him to pay the price of sin, and thus relieve us of a debt we cannot pay. This is his penal substitution for us. But if (on the assumptions we are making) it is not to fall foul of principles of justice, there must way in which sinners can repay him. What could this be? One obvious obstacle is the size of the debt. As the Elizabethan prayer of General Thanksgi i g e p esses it, the ede ptio of the o ld Ch ist is a a tio of i esti a le lo e ith i u e a le Ou Lo d Jesus e efits. It is impossible to calculate compensation for that which is inestimable, and indefinitely many actions will never be an adequate return for innumerable benefits. How is this obstacle to be overcome? 18 Second Treatise §12 9|Page Chapter 2 in Purgatory: Philosophical Dimensions edd. Kristof K.P. Vanhoutte and Benjamin W. McCraw (Sep 2017) Traditionally, the resolution of this difficulty lies i the o ept of self-sa ifi e . Nothing short of my whole self will suffice as a return for my salvation through the Cross. This thought is most memorably expressed in Isaac Watts s much admired poem, frequently sung as a hymn. The first and last stanzas read as follows: When I survey the wondrous Cross On which the Prince of Glory died, My richest gain I count but loss, And pour contempt on all my pride. Were the whole realm of nature mine It were an offering far too small. Love so amazing, so divine Demands my life, my soul, my all. Gi i g ou life to Christ is a fa ilia a of e p essi g a ideal of Christian discipleship expressly enjoined in all the synoptic Gospels19, and recognized across denominations that in other respects differ greatly. But what makes my soul, my innermost self, an adequate sacrifice? The fourth account of Atonement that appeals to the imitation of Christ has something to add here. My innermost self is a fit etu i sofa as it is t ul Isaiah s o t ite hea t 20. This returns us, finally, to the topic of purgatory. Purifying the Self Sometimes, often perhaps, people have thought of the fires of hell and purgatory literally. Obviously, it is not necessary to think of them in this way, and importantly wrong if it deflects us from the idea that these are spiritual rather than material processes and conditions. But in attempting to think about them more clearly, the image – or analogue perhaps – of fire can be helpful. In the refining of ore, fire induces a separation between the metal and the dross. We can think of this process in either of two ways – as o e i 19 hi h the t ue atu e of the o e e e ges, o o e i Matt 16:24; Mark 8:34; Luke 9:23 Isaiah 57:15 Thus says the high and lofty one who inhabits ete it , hose a e is Hol : I dwell in the high and holy place, with him who has a o t ite hea t a d a hu le spi it 20 10 | P a g e Chapter 2 in Purgatory: Philosophical Dimensions edd. Kristof K.P. Vanhoutte and Benjamin W. McCraw (Sep 2017) which, more simply, that which is valuable is separated from that which is not. For present purposes the difference does not matter. Either way, we are primarily interested in the fact that the process produces something pure – pure gold or pure silver, for example. The value of the process lies in the purity of the product it produces. If we think of purgatory as a process of purification, there is an evident resonance with the idea of a efi e s fi e. What, though, are the analogues of the metal and the dross? A plausible answer is this. Purgatory removes those things that prevent a true sacrifice of the self, namely all those aspects of a i di idual s soul o ps he that contaminate or obstruct a self-giving worthy of Christ. Initially it is natural to think of these as the seven deadly sins21 (or some such list), but on the assumption that the souls in purgatory are in a preferable condition to the souls of those sent straight to hell, we can leave aside these rather grosser sins. More interesting for present purposes is the way in which virtuous conduct can be insidiously corrupted by attachment to the self. This is a recurrent theme in theologians from Augustine through Luther to Barth, who have been struck by the fact that human beings seem by nature to be Incurvatus in se (a Latin phrase meaning u ed i a d o o eself , athe tha di e ted out a d , which is to say, beyond self, towards God and for others. Our nature , Luthe sa s, is so deeply curved in on itself that it not only bends the best gifts of God towards itself . . . [it] even uses God himself in order to attain these gifts 22. This means that, while people know themselves to be saved by Jesus dying on the Cross, they may still be subject to an inclination that prevents them from wholehearted discipleship, a po e ful te de , i Luthe s ph ase, to e d to a ds self e e the gifts they fully acknowledge to have been given to them by God. Consider the many aspects of self in hi h this hai of atta h e t a e a ifest. The e is first straightforward self-interest. It is possible, and perhaps common, for people be honest, charitable, friendly, hospitable, truthful and so on, because this it is in their self-interest to act in these ways. Such people eed ot fall i to the lass of Hu e s se si le k a e thi gs. People, athe , a ha e i ed ho effe ti el akes a p ete se of these oti es such that while a genuinely moral is not absent, it is self-interest that tips the balance. When self-interest has been aside, however, this need not mean that attachment to self has been put to an end. The open pursuit of self-interest may be checked not by altruism, but by self-satisfaction. Contentment with how I am, what I have done and what I believe 21 These are pride, covetousness, lust, envy, gluttony, anger and sloth. I leave aside here the traditional distinction et ee o tal o g a e a d e ial o light si s. 22 Luther, Lectures on Romans I.515-516 11 | P a g e Chapter 2 in Purgatory: Philosophical Dimensions edd. Kristof K.P. Vanhoutte and Benjamin W. McCraw (Sep 2017) important can be a good thing precisely insofar as it defuses any aggressive pursuit of self-interest on my part. But it slides easily into complacency, and thus also stifles any desire to discover what is truly good and strive for it. Yet, even countering self-satisfaction effectively may not necessarily signal that we have left the realms of incurvatus in se. It may instead bring us to focus on self-image – the way we appear to ourselves in the light of how we think others see us23. The person who can truly be said to have left self behind will be no more concerned about self-image than self-interest. Concern with self-image is closely related to what is more widely and easily regarded as a vice – self-importance. Here too, though, a subtle form of corruption opens up. The modern world lauds selfrespect or self-esteem as desirable traits for human beings to possess. Self-respect, in fact, is widely regarded as the mark of psychological maturity. Conversely, the person who lacks self-respect or who has low self-esteem is to be sympathetically pitied as psychologically damaged or defective. Perhaps this is correct. The point to make here, however, is that the virtue of self-respect and the vice of selfimportance can be very hard to disentangle, and within ourselves we easily mistake the one for the other. Even when naked (or not so naked) self-interest and anxiety about self-image are left aside, concern with self-respect and self-esteem can surreptitiously generate self-righteousness. Penitents, let us say, fully acknowledge their wrongdoing. They are truly glad to have their sins forgiven, and are sincerely willing to pay penance. Yet in their heart of hearts (as we say), a concern for self-respect may preserve a sense that what they did was at some level warranted, justifiable, or understandable in the circumstances. In other words, there remains an element of self-righteousness, which is to say, an element of the belief that, being righteous in themselves, they are not in need of redemption. In all these ways, a deep and subtle attachment to the self may persist. Insofar as it does, it is lea l a o sta le to gi i g o eself to Ch ist i g ateful a k o ledge e t of the i esti a le e efit of the Cross. Such an attachment may be more or less deeply integrated into the person one is. It is hard to deny that all human beings are egoistical to some extent -- that is precisely their point of contrast with Christ -- but some are rather more so than others. In light of what has been said, we could think of the progress of the soul as movement along a spectrum of self-centeredness where the hold that self-interest, self-satisfaction, self-image, self-importance, and self-righteousness exercise over us is A gua l , the age of the selfie has sho important than self-interest. 23 12 | P a g e , pe haps su p isi gl , that to a people self-image is more Chapter 2 in Purgatory: Philosophical Dimensions edd. Kristof K.P. Vanhoutte and Benjamin W. McCraw (Sep 2017) loosened, leaving us in the end capable of the self-sacrifice that will unite us with Christ, and thus restore humanity to full communion with the God from whom it has been estranged. Against the background of this picture, we can understand the refining fires of purgatory as the means by which, post-mortem, lingering attachments to the self are u t a a , thereby making Christian souls fitting recompense for the price Christ has paid as their penal substitute. There is however, an important implication of this conclusion. When the process of refinement is complete, there may be nothing left to give. Whe e ou t easu e is, the e ill ou hea t e also , Jesus tells his hearers in the Sermon on the Mount24. If this is true, it opens up an important possibility in the present context. Purified of all attachment to the self, the person whose greatest treasure has been the self, even in subtle ways, will be destroyed. In this case, we might say, the fires of purgatory become the fires of hell. Gordon Graham Princeton Theological Seminary September 2016 24 Matt. 6:21 13 | P a g e