Are we "purified" after death?

Imagine peering through an old, smudged windowpane. The vibrant world outside appears distorted, hazy, and dull, its true colors obscured by grime. No matter how much you long to see the clear beauty beyond, the window itself prevents true vision. In a similar way, our sin acts like that smudged pane, separating us from the pristine holiness of God.

This is true even for believers who are baptized, who are saved by Christ, but still have sinful attachments in this life. Sin in the life of a believer can wound us, it can put barriers between us and our Lord who has already called us His children. It is a kind of blindness, an attachment to worldly things, that leaves us unable to totally enjoy the fullness of the life God wants us to have.

So, how does God deal with us if we've already come to faith, if we've been baptized, but still have sinful attachments? What if we still have those attachments after death?

While our sin might blind us to God's love at times, God not only sees us but ardently desires communion with us, to draw us into His very presence. How is this astonishing reconciliation possible? The answer lies in the profound reality of purification—not as an abstract concept or a mechanical process, but as a deeply personal and transformative work accomplished in and through Jesus Christ Himself.

 

The Holiness of God and Human Impurity (Isaiah 6:1-7)

In Isaiah's breathtaking vision of God's throne room, we encounter a striking and terrifying illustration of divine holiness confronting human sinfulness:

"In the year that King Uzziah died I saw the Lord sitting upon a throne, high and lifted up; and the train of his robe filled the temple. Above him stood the seraphim... And one called to another and said: 'Holy, holy, holy is the LORD of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory!'" (Isa 6:1-3)

The Hebrew term for "holy" (קָדוֹשׁ, qādôš) appears in a rare, emphatic triple repetition—a superlative that emphasizes God's absolute otherness, His moral perfection, and His utter transcendence. This vision isn't just about God's moral purity; it's about His magnificent, consuming essence. As the Protestant theologian R.C. Sproul famously stated, "The holiness of God is not merely the best and highest of His attributes; it is the attribute that describes all of His attributes. When we say God is holy, we are saying He is utterly pure and set apart in every facet of His being."

This overwhelming encounter with divine holiness immediately exposes Isaiah's true, wretched condition:

"And I said: 'Woe is me! For I am lost; for I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips; for my eyes have seen the King, the LORD of hosts!'" (Isa 6:5)

The prophet's visceral response (אוֹי־לִי, 'ôy-lî, "woe to me") reflects not merely fear but the stark, agonizing recognition that his sinful state is utterly incompatible with God's glorious presence. The term נִדְמֵיתִי (nidmêtî), often translated "I am lost," carries profound connotations of being "cut off," "silenced," or "doomed"—an acknowledgment that sin renders one utterly unable to stand, speak, or survive before such unblemished holiness. As St. Thomas Aquinas articulated, "God is supremely good, and evil is opposed to good; therefore, God can in no way be the cause of evil." Similarly, humanity, tainted by evil, naturally recoils from the pure source of all goodness. 

What follows reveals divine mercy in astonishing action: "Then one of the seraphim flew to me, having in his hand a burning coal that he had taken with tongs from the altar. And he touched my mouth with it and said: 'Behold, this has touched your lips; your guilt is taken away, and your sin atoned for'" (Isa 6:6-7).

This purification came through sacrificial fire from God's altar—a dramatic, painful, yet utterly effective act, powerfully foreshadowing Christ's ultimate purifying work. The Hebrew וְתָסַר (wĕtāsar, "is taken away") and תְּכֻפָּר (tĕkuppār, "is atoned for") emphasize the divine passive—God Himself accomplishes this cleansing. Isaiah did not purify himself; he received purification as an unmerited, transformative gift. He was cleansed not by his own merit, but by a divine act of grace.

 

Divine Purification in Malachi (Malachi 3:1-3)

Malachi provides another powerful, albeit intense, image of divine purification, likening God to a refiner:

"But who can endure the day of his coming, and who can stand when he appears? For he is like a refiner's fire and like fullers' soap. He will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver, and he will purify the sons of Levi and refine them like gold and silver" (Mal 3:2-3).

The Hebrew terms מְצָרֵף (mĕṣārēp, "refiner") and מְטַהֵר (mĕṭahēr, "purifier") portray God as one who removes impurities through intense heat. Think of a goldsmith, who places raw, ore-filled metal into a crucible and subjects it to extreme temperatures. The dross, the worthless impurities, rise to the surface and are skimmed away, leaving behind pure, shining metal. This process is both painful and purposeful—the impurities are separated precisely to reveal what is precious and valuable within. Significantly, the refiner sits (וְיָשַׁב, wĕyāšab) during this process, indicating not hasty judgment, but patient, careful, and attentive work, ensuring the purity is achieved without destroying the precious element.

This purification, though arduous, is always aimed at our greater good. Notice, this is a "purification" here for believers. In the context of Levi, the sons of Levi! The same holds true in the New Testament for all of us who may not be ordained priests or Levites, but are nonetheless a part of His priestly people.

The purpose of purification in Malachi's verse above is clear: "that they may bring offerings in righteousness" (Mal 3:3). Divine purification enables proper worship and relationship with God. Without it, our offerings, our very lives, remain tainted by sin and self-interest, unacceptable in the presence of a holy God.

 

The Testing of Our Works (1 Corinthians 3:10-15)

The Apostle Paul further develops this imagery of purification by fire when discussing how believers' works will be evaluated at the judgment seat of Christ:

"Each one's work will become manifest, for the Day will disclose it, because it will be revealed by fire, and the fire will test what sort of work each one has done. If the work that anyone has built on the foundation survives, he will receive a reward. If anyone's work is burned up, he will suffer loss, though he himself will be saved, but only as through fire" (1 Cor 3:13-15).

Here, fire is not for destruction but for discernment. It "burns away" the bad stuff, the sinful attachments we still have, our "mixed-bag" of works, that are often self-serving. Even our best deeds, sometimes, can be bent inward by our sin. Think about how we might take pride in giving donations, or in helping the poor? Think about how even ministers might become conceited, or bathe in the praises of men, even when doing what God called them to do?

The Greek term for "test" (δοκιμάσει, dokimasei) suggests a process of proving or determining quality. Imagine constructing a building. Some builders might use cheap, flimsy materials like "wood, hay, and stubble," while others build with enduring "gold, silver, and precious stones." When the fire comes, it doesn't destroy the foundation (Christ), but it exposes the quality of the superstructure built upon it.

Paul's phrase "saved, but only as through fire" (σωθήσεται οὕτως δὲ ὡς διὰ πυρός, sōthēsetai houtōs de hōs dia puros) indicates a purification process that may involve loss—the loss of unworthy works and motivations—but ultimately results in the salvation of the person. As Pope Benedict XVI (Joseph Ratzinger) noted, this purifying "fire" is "Christ himself, the Word of God, the Truth. His gaze, the touch of his heart, heals us through a painful transformation, as through 'fire'." 

This passage establishes an important principle: coming into full communion with God involves a purifying evaluation of our lives and works. What motivations truly drive our actions? What hidden impurities remain in our character, subtly influencing our choices and attitudes? These must be addressed and purged before we can fully, unhindered, enter God's radiant presence and receive the full reward of our labors.

 

Christ as Our Purification

Throughout Scripture, there is a consistent, resounding truth: Christ Himself is both the supreme agent and the perfect means of our purification. He doesn't just provide purification; He is our Purification. 

"He is the radiance of the glory of God and the exact imprint of his nature, and he upholds the universe by the word of his power. After making purification for sins, he sat down at the right hand of the Majesty on high" (Heb 1:3).

The Greek καθαρισμὸν (katharismon, "purification") connects to the elaborate Old Testament ritual system of cleansing but transcends it infinitely. Christ's purifying work is not merely external or symbolic; it is a profound transformation that changes the believer from within. This radical change is an ongoing reality:

"If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness" (1 Jn 1:9).

The verb καθαρίσῃ (katharisē, "to cleanse") indicates a thorough, continuous purification from moral impurity. This is no superficial washing, like simply rinsing dirt from the surface; it is a profound inner transformation, a deep spiritual renewal. C.S. Lewis captured this beautifully when he wrote, "God is going to make us into creatures that can taste that intense happiness. He will do it, though it hurts him and hurts us, for He is determined that we shall be pure." This aligns with the ancient Christian concept of theosis or deification, where, as St. Athanasius famously stated, "God became man so that man might become God" – implying a profound, Christ-enabled process of becoming like Him in holiness.

Notice likewise that confession leads to two things: forgiveness and purification. God doesn't just pronounce forgiveness, like a judge saying "not guilty," he goes beyond that. He actually transforms us, He refines us, to make sure that we aren't just festering meat-sacks in a pretty gown... but that we actually become the men and women He made us to be.

 

Death Alone Does Not Purify

Here emerges a critical theological insight that is often overlooked: physical death itself possesses no inherent purifying power. Death entered the world as a consequence of sin (Rom 5:12), not as its remedy or a spiritual cleanser. Sometimes we get the idea that our sinful attachments will die with the body. Truth is, though, our sin runs deeper than the flesh. Even our souls are tainted, wounded, and can be plagued by sin.

We don't earn anything, or accomplish anything by dying. Jesus death does it all.

Our purification comes exclusively through Christ's atoning death on the cross and the ongoing application of His precious blood:

"The blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin" (1 Jn 1:7).

The present tense of "cleanses" (καθαρίζει, katharizei) suggests an ongoing, dynamic action. This purification begins definitively at conversion, continues throughout the Christian life through the work of the Holy Spirit, and, for many believers, may find its full completion after physical death through Christ's continuing grace as we are entering eternal glory.

Consider this reality: when we die, do we instantly become perfect in holiness in every conceivable way, entirely free from all residual attachments to sin, all imperfect virtues, or disordered loves? Scripture suggests that our sanctification, while promised to be completed by God (Phil 1:6), is a lifelong process. Many believers die still bearing the effects of sin, still striving, still imperfect. The immediate presence with Christ at death (2 Cor 5:8) ensures salvation, but does it immediately perfect every fiber of our being? The trajectory of growth in holiness often points to a further, final refinement.

 

The Completion of Our Purification

For believers who die still imperfect, Christ's purifying work continues to bring them to the absolute perfection required for entering the unblemished glory of heaven. This completion of purification is not a separate work from Christ's atonement but its final, perfect application. It represents the fulfillment of God's promise that we will be presented "holy and blameless and above reproach before him" (Col 1:22).

Scripture affirms that Christ "will sustain you to the end, guiltless in the day of our Lord Jesus Christ" (1 Cor 1:8). The Greek ἀνεγκλήτους (anegklētous, "blameless") indicates a complete freedom from accusation—a state of thorough purity. Similarly, Revelation describes the saints in heaven as those who "have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb" (Rev 7:14), indicating a completed purification that prepares them for eternal worship.

How does this final purification occur?

Scripture does not provide explicit, exhaustive details, but the consistent biblical imagery of fire that tests, refines, and purifies strongly suggests that coming into God's full, unveiled presence involves a final, intense removal of all that is incompatible with divine holiness.

This is not punitive in the sense of condemnation for sins already forgiven, but it is a necessary, perfecting process. It is the completion of God's perfection of our souls in Christ.

Just as Isaiah received purification through the burning coal from God's altar, we too receive ongoing purification through the cleansing sacrifice of Jesus Christ. His blood continually cleanses us from all unrighteousness, working within us to transform our hearts and minds to mirror His own.

While different traditions understand the mechanisms of this perfection differently, or use different language to describe the process, the outcome is universally affirmed: we will be perfectly holy.

Some Christians, particularly within the Catholic tradition, refer to this process as “purgatory.” This is a widely misunderstood teaching. As you all know, I'm all about "dismantling" strawmen, and avoiding false caricatures of different Christian beliefs. When we understand what is meant by "purgatory," I think most protestants who might not use the same language could agree with the substance of what it's all about.

Those who adhere to the doctrine of "purgatory" do not believe that it’s a “place” somewhere between heaven and hell, nor that it’s a “second chance” at salvation. As the Catechism of the Catholic Church states, "All who die in God's grace and friendship, but still imperfectly purified, are indeed assured of their eternal salvation; but after death they undergo purification, so as to achieve the holiness necessary to enter the joy of heaven" (CCC 1030).

Based on that definition, I think most Christians who hold to what the Bibles teach can affirm a common ground. This might not be discussed much in protestant churches, but the idea of it is thoroughly biblical and not inherently contradictory to most core protestant beliefs.

These souls, judged among the righteous, will nonetheless endure some kind of post-mortem purification as they are prepared to enter God’s radiant presence. The nature of this experience, how it will “feel,” has been described in various ways, some speculative, others more biblically grounded, as St. Augustine contemplated a "purging fire" (City of God, XXI, 26). Nonetheless, if we think of this “purification” as punishment for sin in the sense of debt, we miss the point. This isn't a punitive fire. When Scripture uses "fire" this way, it's not in the way it uses fire metaphorically to describe hell. That has caused some confusion, but the way the Bible speaks about "hell" and "purification" are totally different.

Purification is all grace, it is a Person (Jesus Christ) and a process, not a penalty. It is the loving, perfecting work of God, who desires us to be truly fit for His presence.

Therefore, let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who endured the cross for the joy set before him. In his death and resurrection, we find true purification and sanctification. As believers, we are called to actively participate in this process by confessing our sins, yielding to the sanctifying work of the Holy Spirit, and striving for holiness in our daily lives. Our ultimate hope is not in our own efforts or in the automatic purging power of physical death, but entirely in the finished work of Christ on the cross. It is for His sake, and through His power, that we are purified.

It's crucial to understand that this journey of purification, whether in this life or the next, is not meant to terrify us. It's not about God arbitrarily inflicting pain or causing us to live in constant fear of judgment. Instead, it's an ultimate act of grace, driven by His profound love and His desire for us to experience the fullest possible communion with Him.

The refiner doesn't heat the gold to destroy it, but to make it more valuable and beautiful.

While the prospect of having impurities purged might seem daunting, it should primarily motivate us to pursue a purer life now, in the present. Christ desires to purify us, to sanctify us, in this life, through our daily walk with Him, through confession, repentance, receiving his gifts (e.g. the Eucharist) and obedience to the Holy Spirit.

This ongoing work of cleansing in the here and now is precisely how He prefers to prepare us, so that when we do stand before Him, our hearts are already aligning with His perfect holiness.

May we rest in the assurance that Christ alone is our sanctifier, our purifier, and our glorious hope for eternal communion with a holy God. Amen.

 

In Jesus' name,

Judah