Aiming for Adequacy

And The Tragedy of Underestimating Purgatory

Painting of the Blessed Virgin Mary & the child Jesus above a doorway

I think it’s safe to say that we all find it difficult to imagine being a Saint in this life. Most Christians struggle with a sort of self-imposed sense of inadequacy that in some cases can lend itself towards a proper humility and reliance on the mercy of God, however, it more often causes us to settle for mediocrity and to do the bare minimum. Usually this consists in a Catholic’s real  desire to be beatified with God in Heaven along with a lack of confidence in his ability to do so without significant purification in Purgatory. Thus, the standard to be reached, instead of being Heaven itself, becomes mere Purgatory, as we fall back on the knowledge that if we at least make it to Purgatory we will eventually be with God in Heaven.

I can’t even count the number of times that I have heard a statement like the following: “I am of course a great sinner, and I will never be perfect, so I just need to make sure that I remain faithful and am in the state of grace when I die so I can just make it into Purgatory, so eventually I will make it to Heaven.” 

I think most Catholics, when presented with this statement worded as such, would recognize that it is assuredly problematic, but I would argue that it nevertheless remains a deep-rooted and insidious sentiment in just about every one of us, myself included. The temptation to do just enough to get us into Heaven is a surefire way to fall short, for we are not called to be lukewarm, but to be perfect as our Heavenly Father is perfect.

I recently came across a passage in Dom Eugene Boylan’s famous spiritual work, This Tremendous Lover, that poignantly counters such a sentiment.  He writes:

Such a height [the summit of divine love] must be reached either here or hereafter.  There is no choice finally except heaven or hell.  Heaven supposes perfect love of God which must either be reached in this life, or else, with far more suffering, in the next life through the fires of Purgatory.  The easier way is to be sanctified here and now.¹

Reading this passage for the first time gave me chills, for I had truly never read or heard anything of the sort.  It is so easy for us to take for granted the fires of Purgatory, so much so that they can seem negligible to us compared to all the hardships and toils of being a true Saint in this life. Every time we sin, every time we fall short of the mark, we make a choice not only of creatures over the Creator, but also one which values our time in this life more than in the next, deeming the difficulty of virtue more loathsome than the pains we allot ourselves in Purgatory.

The Catholic Church has always taught that entrance into perfect life with the Holy Trinity in Heaven necessitates not only being in the state of grace, but also perfect purification from the effects of our sins, which as Boylan points out above, can either be accomplished in this life or, by virtue of God’s Mercy, in Purgatory (CCC 1023, 1030). We ought not, however, aim for Purgatory as a fallback for our worldly pursuits, for there is no pain we may experience in the pursuit of perfection in this life worse than the purifying fire of Purgatory. Likewise, there is no temporal joy in this life so good that outweighs the joy of being a Saint. We are all given only so much time on this Earth in which we can, through the Grace of God, come ever closer to him and truly be Saints. 

Aiming for mere adequacy in our lives not only sets us up for real anguish in Purgatory, but also presents an undeniable risk in falling short of the line, just as aiming for the bare minimum in any worldly pursuit so often finds us missing the mark. Christ’s words in the Gospel of Luke are particularly apt in this regard:

Strive to enter by the narrow door; for many, I tell you, will seek to enter and will not be able. When once the householder has risen up and shut the door, you will begin to stand outside and to knock at the door, saying, “Lord, open to us.” He will answer you, “I do not know where you are from.”  Then you will begin to say, “We ate and drank in your presence, and you taught in our streets.” But he will say, “I tell you, I do not know where you come from; depart from me, all you workers of iniquity! (Lk 13:24-7)

It does not matter how much we associate ourselves with Christ, how much He may have taught in our streets, or however much we may have eaten or drunk in His presence. Christ makes it abundantly clear: His path is the path of perfection. If we are not seeking perfection in our daily lives, if we aim for the bare minimum, presuming God’s Mercy while surrounding ourselves with worldly pursuits, we just may find ourselves flailing at the last minute, excluded from eternal Beatification. The ultimate tragedy consists not in aiming too high and falling short, but in aiming for too little and achieving just that.

I do not wish to sound bleak, for truly there is nothing which compares to the abounding workings of God’s Mercy. That being said, we are made to be Perfect with God in Heaven, not to be just adequate in Purgatory, though through God’s Mercy we have been given Purgatory that we may be cleansed of our imperfections and ultimately be with Him forever. Let us hope that when the time comes for each of us, we did not presume Purgatory in this life but pursued perfection and Paradise.

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“It would seem that Our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak.  We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.”

- C. S. Lewis in The Weight of Glory

1. Eugene Boylan, This Tremendous Lover, (Rosecrea: Baronius Press, 2019), xvi.