On Indulgences, the Treasury of Merit, and the Communion of Saints

Have you ever watched a mother stay up all night with a sick child, her eyes heavy with exhaustion, yet refusing to leave the bedside? Or witnessed a friend take time off work to drive another friend to chemotherapy appointments, week after week? In these moments, we glimpse something profound about human nature: our suffering and sacrifices mysteriously possess the power to benefit others. This isn't merely kindness or duty—it's participation in something far deeper, something that touches the very heart of what it means to be part of Christ's body.

The question of how our sufferings and spiritual efforts can benefit others has long divided Christians. At its core lies a beautiful yet challenging truth: we are not isolated individuals working out our salvation in spiritual solitude, but members of one body, "for we are members of his body" (Ephesians 5:30). This interconnectedness means that what affects one member affects all, and what benefits one can mysteriously benefit others.

 

The Scandal of Shared Grace

To many modern Christians, particularly those from Protestant traditions, the idea that one person's spiritual "merits" could somehow be applied to another seems to contradict the fundamental principle of salvation by grace alone. After all, doesn't Scripture clearly state that "a person is justified by faith apart from the works of the law" (Romans 3:28)? How then can we speak of applying our sufferings or spiritual efforts to others?

The answer lies not in replacing Christ's sufficient sacrifice but in understanding our profound union with Him. When Paul writes, "Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I am filling up what is lacking in the afflictions of Christ for the sake of his body, that is, the church" (Colossians 1:24), he isn't suggesting Christ's sacrifice was insufficient. Rather, he's revealing a mystery: through our baptismal union with Christ, our sufferings become joined to His, taking on a redemptive quality not through their own power but through this mystical union.

St. Augustine captured this beautifully when he wrote, "Christ and the Church are two in one flesh. The head and the members are, as it were, one mystical person" (Enarrationes in Psalmos, 37, 4). This isn't merely metaphorical—it's a spiritual reality that transforms how we understand suffering, merit, and intercession.

 

The Communion of Saints and the Church's Treasury of Merit

The traditional understanding of the communion of saints extends this interconnectedness beyond the boundaries of earthly life. If death cannot separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus (Romans 8:38-39), then neither can it sever the bonds of love and mutual support among the members of Christ's body. This communion includes three states of the Church: the Church Triumphant (the saints in heaven), the Church Militant (believers on earth), and the Church Suffering (the souls in purgatory).

The prayers, sacrifices, and sufferings of the faithful on earth can benefit those in purgatory. The Catholic Church teaches that while the souls in purgatory are assured of salvation, they are undergoing a final purification to achieve the holiness necessary to enter heaven. The Church's teaching on indulgences is directly related to this. As the Catechism of the Catholic Church explains, every sin, even forgiven sin, leaves behind a "temporal punishment" that must be purified (CCC 1472). Indulgences are a remission of this temporal punishment, granted by the Church from its "treasury of merit."

This treasury consists of the infinite merits of Christ's sacrifice, as well as the superabundant merits and prayers of the Blessed Virgin Mary and all the saints. Because all members of the body of Christ are mystically united, the Church has the authority to apply these merits to a person who is properly disposed and performs certain prescribed actions, such as a pilgrimage, a work of mercy, or a period of prayer. As Pope Paul VI taught in Indulgentiarum doctrina, an indulgence is a way for the faithful to help "their brothers who have departed this life." This practice is a profound act of charity, as believers on earth (the Church Militant) help their brothers and sisters in purgatory (the Church Suffering) hasten their entry into heaven.

 

The Protestant Insight: Grace Alone, Together

Protestant objections to certain historical practices around indulgences have served as important correctives, reminding us that grace cannot be earned, bought, or mechanically transferred. Yet, even Protestant theology, at its best, recognizes the communal nature of salvation. While they do not embrace the doctrine of purgatory or the transfer of merits to the dead, the core idea of an interconnected body of Christ is not entirely foreign.

In my mind, this is where we have to "start," both in terms of how we understand the Catholic position on Indulgences, and also in dialogue with Protestants who struggle to understand it.  

For example, the widely influential Heidelberg Catechism (1563) defines the "communion of saints" by stating that "each one of [the believers] is duty-bound to use his gifts readily and cheerfully for the advantage and welfare of the other members." This confession of faith grounds the spiritual life in a reality of shared grace, where the gifts and spiritual efforts of one member are intended for the benefit of all. This principle, while not extending to a treasury of merit or the application of indulgences, provides a foundational theological and biblical framework for understanding how one Christian's life is inextricably linked to the well-being of another.

The key is to hold two truths in tension: salvation is entirely God's work, a gift of grace received through faith, and yet God chooses to work through human cooperation, making us genuine participants in His redemptive plan. As Paul puts it, "We are God's fellow workers" (1 Corinthians 3:9)—not because God needs our help, but because He delights to include us in His work. The Catholic understanding of indulgences builds upon this shared foundation of the communion of saints, extending it to a belief in the Church's capacity to apply the merits of the entire body to individual members, both living and dead, for the remission of temporal punishment.

 

Living the Mystery: Practical Applications

How then shall we live in light of these truths? First, we must recognize that every moment of suffering is an opportunity for redemptive love. When you experience physical pain, emotional distress, or spiritual dryness, you can consciously unite these experiences with Christ's passion, offering them for specific intentions: for someone's healing, conversion, or for the eternal rest of a soul in purgatory.

Second, we should cultivate awareness of our interconnectedness. Your prayers, sacrifices, and acts of love genuinely affect others in the body of Christ. That friend struggling with addiction, that relative who has left the faith, that missionary in a dangerous location—all can be spiritually supported by your offerings. And your prayers can be a lifeline to the souls in purgatory.

Third, practice what might be called "redemptive substitution" in small ways. Fast on behalf of someone who cannot fast. Pray when someone else is too overwhelmed to pray. Offer up minor inconveniences and irritations for those facing major trials. These aren't transactions earning grace but acts of love participating in Christ's ongoing redemptive work.

Finally, remember that this participation in Christ's redemptive suffering is itself a gift of grace. We don't generate redemptive power through our own efforts; rather, God graciously allows our small offerings to participate in His infinite love. As St. Thérèse of Lisieux understood, it's not the size of our offerings that matters but the love with which they are given.

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