De Sancti: Scripture

"The communion of saints is the spiritual solidarity which binds together the faithful on earth, the souls in purgatory, and the saints in heaven in the organic unity of the same mystical body under Christ its head, and in a constant interchange of supernatural offices." (CE)

The Argument from Holy Scripture

"But as touching the resurrection of the dead, have ye not read that which was spoken unto you by God saying, I am the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob? God is not the God of the dead, but of the living" (Matt. 22:31-32). Clearly, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob suffered death, but they must be, in some definite way, still living. Since God is not God of the dead, either He is not the God of men who have died, both saints and sinners alike—in which case death is freedom from God and likewise from His Judgment—or, although the patriarchs suffered the separation of body and soul, their souls are imperishable and continue after death with God: for to be without God is to be truly dead, whether or not the soul and body are united. The first conclusion is clearly impossible for the Christian. First, because it would mean that God's power could not redeem the souls of the faithful departed; but the Psalmist says, "You will not leave my soul in Sheol" (16:10). Furthermore, if God's power were limited by death then Christ could not have overcome death; but Scripture says, "Christ being raised from the dead dies no more; death hath no more dominion over him" (Rom 6:9). And finally, it would be derogatory to God's omnipotence to say that He could not bring all things to justice; for the Scripture says, "Your throne, O God, will last for ever and ever; a scepter of justice will be the scepter of your kingdom," and again, "The souls of the righteous are in the hand of God, and no torment will ever touch them" (Ps. 45:6, Wis. 3:1). Thus the souls of the patriarchs must be still living, that is, must be with God.

Either one may ask those who died in faith to intercede for us, or the gap between the living and the dead is unbridgeable. Yet, the witch of Endor summoned the spirit of Samuel for Saul, which shows that the dead can be summoned by evil means for communication with the living (1 Sam. 28). But if such communication is possible, by what principle can there not exist a proper means of communion between the living and the departed? Since evil is a privation of or twisting of the good, there must exist some good that the witch was perverting. And in the parable of the rich man and Lazarus, the soul of Lazarus is already in the bosom of Abraham and the soul of the rich man already in torment, even while the rich man’s brothers are still living (Luke 16:19-31).[1] From these two examples it is clear the dead can converse with the living—as Samuel did—and with other departed souls—as the rich man did. [2] Yet the dead can also converse with God Himself, for at the transfiguration Moses and Elijah "appeared in glory" as they spoke with Christ (Luke 9:31). Most importantly, our Lord Himself said from the Cross: "Today shalt thou be with me in paradise" (Luke 23:43). The Lord tells the good thief that when he dies his soul will be present in paradise with God, on that very same day. For us who are living after that day, should we not ask the soul of the saved thief to appeal to our Savior for the conversion of all thieves?

Clearly then, the dead must have a life beyond death even now, for it is unlikely that these examples from Scripture are the exception. From these examples, it appears there is a period after the soul is separated from the body and before the body is resurrected on the last day. While the soul may be free from temporal and spatial limitations necessary to un-resurrected bodies, it has nevertheless a linear existence from the moment of conception. For after death the soul does not become eternal in the strict a-temporal sense—that is, never having been contained within the boundaries of time—for only God is eternal I AM. This suggests, I think, that the experience of time is not completely destroyed after death.[3] But however the soul might exist after death, it cannot exist in a void. And there are a limited number of places that take in souls after death.

In Christ's prayer for unity, he says, "Neither pray I for these alone, but for them also which shall believe on me through their word; that they all may be one; as thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee, that they also may be one in us: that the world may believe that thou hast sent me" (John 17:20-21). Here Christ prays for unity within the entire body of Christian men. He does not pray for those present alone, but for all who will come to believe in Him through the Apostles' words. This communion of Christian men does not only extend to those who were present when Christ spoke these words, but to all Christians in all ages. He even prays for those who have not yet been born, for us. Therefore, as Christ's prayer is still relevant today, Christ prays for unity in the Church that extends between the living and the dead: those who died Christians, those who are Christians and those who will become Christians: "that they all may be one."

Unity then exists in the Church as the unity of its members exist in the whole body. For the Father "gave him to be the head over all things to the church, which is his body, the fullness of him that fills all in all" (Eph. 1:22-23). According to this passage the Church is the body of Christ; and "no man ever yet hated his own flesh; but nourishes and cherishes it, even as the Lord the church: for we are members of his body, of his flesh, of his bones" (Eph. 5:30). Are we to believe that He ceases to nourish and cherish us once we die? Does death separate us from the Church and undo our baptism into the body of Christ? On the contrary, Paul says, "as the body is one, and hath many members, and all the members of that one body, being many, are one body: so also is Christ" (1 Cor. 12:13). For whether Gentile or Jew, slave or free, even living or departed, the same Spirit baptized us into the Church. And if the eye cannot say unto the hand, "I have no need of thee," then the living cannot say to the dead, "I have no need of thee" (cf. 1 Cor. 12:21).

But if the mystical body of Christ only included the living, what would become of death? Indeed, death would be terrible; for if death were separation from the Church, death would also be separation from Christ who is the head of the Church. But Paul says, "I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord" (Rom. 8:38-39). If then death is not able to separate us from Christ, neither is it able to separate us from His body. For Paul says: "Now therefore ye are no more strangers and foreigners, but fellow-citizens with the saints, and of the household of God; and are built upon the foundations of the apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ himself being the chief corner stone; in whom all the building fitly framed together grows unto a holy temple in the Lord: in whom ye also are built together for a habitation of God through the Spirit" (Eph. 2:19-22). Clearly, this "temple" cannot be exclusively built of the living, for the cornerstone Himself suffered the separation of body and soul. Even the prophets who have already suffered death are mentioned. Thus this temple is not weakened by death; nor can the love within the mystical body of Christ be broken by death. For we are connected through Christ to all the other members of His body by the bonds of charity, which never fails.

But then, if the dead are still members of the Church, why should I not be able to ask them to pray for me? Paul asks the living members of the Church to pray for him: "Now I beseech you, brethren, for the Lord Jesus Christ’s sake, and for the love of the Spirit, that ye strive together with me in your prayers to God for me" (Rom 15:30). And this is not the only time that he asks for prayers (cf. Col 4:3; 1 Thess. 5:25). If I ask the living who do not see God to pray for me, why should I not ask those who see God face to face to likewise intercede on my behalf? Is there a reason to think those who died in faith would cease striving together with the living in their prayers to God for us? The angels certainly can pray for us, for Raphael even told Tobias, "I offered thy prayer to the Lord" (12:12). And if the angels who are not of the race of men pray for mortals how much more so would those of the seed of Adam offer their prayers for us as they stand before the Throne! For "we also are compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses," that is, with the angels and saints of God (Heb 12:1). As Paul is not asking for their prayers in any way that weakens his dedication to Christ, so our own prayers to the saints do not weaken our dedication to Christ.[4] Nor are the prayers of the saints unnecessary mediation, for the miracle at the wedding feast of Cana happened through the intersession of Mary. In fact, there have always been human mediators—who are not also the Son of God—between God and man, such as Abraham pleading for Sodom (Gen. 18:23-33), Moses for Israel (Ex. 32:7-14) and Job for his comforters (Job 42:7-8). But the mediators of the Old Testament were only pre-figurations of Christ, who alone made possible true communion between God and sinful man by atoning for our sins. But by that same perfect mediation, He made possible the intercession of the saints. For just as we have become the adopted children of the Kingdom through the only-begotten Son of God, so the saints participate in the intercession of the sole Mediator between God and man. Likewise, just as you can rejoice in the beauty of a sunset without offending God, whose nature is supremely beautiful and makes possible the sunset, so you can use the mediation of the saints without offending the Mediator, who makes possible their mediation.

Finally there is the rather mysterious passage from Revelations where the prayers of the saints are presented to God: "And when he had taken the book, the four beasts and four and twenty elders fell down before the Lamb, having every one of them harps, and golden vials full of odors, which are the prayers of the saints" (5:8).

A word must be said here about the difference between praying to a saint and praying to Christ, who is Lord of all. Christ is the head of the Church, and no honor and veneration permissible to any saint is a substitute for the worship and adoration due to God. The difference is not just in degree of the prayer, but in kind. The Christian ought to ask the dead to pray for him as he asks the living to pray for him. (And just as there is no necessary offense in the asking the living to pray for us, neither is there in asking the dead to pray for us.) For giving praise for the beauty of a single stone in the temple of God does not detract—either in reality or necessarily in the mind of the one rejoicing—from the supreme beauty of the cornerstone, that is Christ. Indeed, the proper veneration of saints is a holy rejoicing in the fullness of God manifested through the various members of His Body.[5]

[1] It might be objected that the story of Lazarus is just a parable and not meant to be a source of theological doctrine. But, on closer look, many doctrines are derived from parables, e.g. the Day of Judgment from Matthew 13:24-30.
[2] However, since some kind of communication with the dead is possible, another option becomes present: that it is nonetheless forbidden. Such two-way communication provided by the witch of Endor is certainly forbidden. But the invocation of saints is different in nature and method. While the medium has recourse to demonic spirits the Christian's prayer is a natural expression of his devotion. And while the end of the medium's activity is to speak directly with the dead, both the petitioner and the saints are ultimately oriented towards God in their prayer.
[3] Ecce! omnia nova facio may include time as well. (cf. Rev. 21:5)
[4] Christ is always the center of the Christian's life, but the saints make that center more fully imaginable by more fully imaging Him. The saints show us, among other things, that goodness is fresh and rare and precious in every age—while it is evil that (like bad poetry) is the same in all generations.
[5] Cf. “As Kingfishers Catch Fire” (Gerald Manley Hopkins) “For Christ plays in. . . .”