Purgatory?

Protestants reject out-of-hand the notion of 'purgatory'.  Purgatory is said to be a Roman Catholic conjuring having nothing to do with the economy of God. With the advent of Luther's Reformation (AD 1517 --->), a theological tradition that considers the refining fires believers go through before entrance into heaven was summarily trashed.  In its place was drafted what I call a 'punctuated sanctification'.  That is, the notion that salvation through Christ instantaneously absolves one of all one's sins, that they are 'new creatures' (II Cor. 5:17-18) already fit for eternity in heaven with God.

To be clear, salvation does instantaneously absolve a person of his/her sins.  However, the fact that we continue to experience character challenges, persecutions, tests of faith, temptations, habitual sins, and the need to regularly ask Christ to quicken His forgiveness in our lives speaks against a completed, or 'punctuated' sanctification upon salvation.  Our characters are not fully reformed when we receive Christ's salvation.  We still have to "work out our salvation with fear and trembling" (Phil. 2:12); we still have to "purify ourselves" from everything in us that expresses itself against God (2 Cor. 7:1).  

And given that we presently live imperfect lives, what makes us think that at the close of our lives, when we see dusk settling over our life-force and the darkness draws near, that we will have somehow suddenly perfected ourselves and worked out our salvation (i.e., completed our sanctification)?  Could it be that classical Roman Catholic theology has been right about purgatory?  That is, perhaps Protestants reacted too quickly to reject the doctrine of purgatory since it was too close to the blasphemy of selling indulgences (a papal device that essentially states you can buy time out of purgatory).  The association was too much like rubbing sandpaper over a fresh wound.  On reflection, almost 600 years later, however, purgatory does seem to make some sense.

Gregory A. Boyd makes a few interesting observations about this issue here, on his blog.

What are your thoughts?

Law-Lovers

Christians have a tendency to believe that living a holy life means strict adherence to a brace of rules hosted by their local denomination, affiliation, or tradition. The psychological pressure exerted by sincere believers on themselves and others to, say, not dance, avoid secular music, stay clear of bars and pubs, refuse communion with other traditions, be pacifists, make regular Sunday attendence, etc. must crush the joy of a hopeful heart. Who could enjoy the freedom of Christ just knowing that your local congregation and its many para-church connections act as an implicit spiritual gestapo? Be sure to clear the salt stains from your shoes because if you don't Mrs. X will complain to the pastor about how distracting it is for her and others to receive the Body of Christ from a man who has salt stains on his shoes (actual example).

Christians love law. We love making laws. We love imposing law on others, arguing about laws, canonizing law, interpreting Christ's words through a lense of law, basing entire affiliations on a select group of lifestyle preferences as if they were laws (e.g., Brethren In Christ and the law of pacifism), and we certainly have this cockeyed notion that a pastor/priest/bishop represents the law (though we prattle on with titular sentiments like, "representative of Christ", even though we treat him as the man weilding the stone tablets of the denominational constitution; not to be crossed but only submitted to).

But what is the good of being a Christian if it means bunging up your soul with imitations of Old Testament practice all the while professing New Testament grace? Why live under Moses and sing about Christ? Why parade about in the light of the Pharisees while drawing a curtain over the Son?

There seem to be no real and decent answers to any of these questions. It is one thing to admonish fellow believers to consider their leaders and imitate their way of life (Heb. 13:7). It is an entirely different thing to constrain fellow believers to preferentialisms and surplus moralisms in an effort to force conformity to a leader's way of life; in effect, to mass-market Percy Byshe Shelly's terrifying vision of a doppleganger, all-the-while ordaining it as 'holy' and proper.

Rather, where Christ is, there is freedom. Where grace reigns, legalisms are unnecessary. Where the conscience of the believer is discipled to Christ through His Word and continuous prayer, moralizing becomes the providence of cheap grace and the spiritually inept.