The other day, my Lovely and Brilliant Wife and I were talking with the kids about the relationship between time, Purgatory, and eternity. I won't pretend to understand that relationship, although it's given me a serious brain-stretching. But that's not the point of this post.
As a Protestant, I had always thought that Purgatory was supposed to be like a jail sentence we serve out as punishment for our sins before we can be let into Heaven, a revenge by God for our sins. It's not; it's more like the front hall of Heaven, where we take a final shower before entering into God's perfection. It's a gift, not a punishment. Like most of God's blessings, it's uncomfortable to receive in our sinful state, but glorious to have received afterward.
Posting about Kenneth Taylor (see below) caused me to think about Purgatory again. Like most Protestants who arrive at the Pearly Gates, Dr. Taylor was probably surprised out of his boots to find himself in Purgatory. I'm not impugning the man's character here; we're all sinners, short of the glory of God. When we begin the journey toward heaven, God begins working changes in us to make us reflect His goodness, but the process is never finished while we're alive. It's only after our time on earth is done and we're about to step into God's glory that he takes the final bits of sin off of us and makes us perfect. The Godlier we are on earth, the less there is to correct at Purgatory. But no matter how Godly He makes us while we're here, we still can't be holy enough to enter Heaven when our time comes.
That's why I don't think Dr. Taylor was unhappy to find he had been wrong about Purgatory. The Lord had spent most of Dr. Taylor's 88 years molding him into the sort of servant He wanted. This process might have been difficult, but it only happened because Dr. Taylor loved the Lord and wanted more than anything to be holy. So when he arrived in Purgatory, God was in effect giving him the desire of his heart, by completing the work He had been doing all along. At the front door of Heaven, God gave Dr. Taylor the last gift he would ever receive as a sinner: perfection and sinlessness.
I can't say Purgatory sounds like a lot of fun (not that we really know a lot about it), but I'm grateful that God loves me enough to finish His work in me, just like Dr. Taylor. Now we come short; in that day, we won't anymore. Praise God for His unflinching mercy!
Update: My LABW points out that in the general course of things, people don't shower in the front hall. She suggests a welcome mat as a better analogy.
See why I married her?
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