I suppose that among us mere mortals the
only person who could give first hand testimony to the question, “What happens
to the soul after death?” was Lazarus, and he left no extant literary
remains. At best we have an old story which
relates that after Christ raised him after he was dead for four days he never
smiled, since he could not forget the suffering of the souls in Hades, the land
of the dead. If the story is true, it
bodes ill for those who died untouched by the grace of Christ.
But
though the Church does not have an authoritative “tell all” memoir from one who
had died and had been brought back to life again, it does have a long and
sizable tradition from which to draw.
Just how long and sizable this tradition is may seen from the book Life after Death according to the Orthodox Tradition, written by Jean-Claude Larchet, and available through the Orthodox Research
Institute. The book’s value lies in the
comprehensive survey it undertakes, as it quotes from a wide selection of the
Fathers. Anyone can write a book on the
fate of the soul after death, if one views the matter selectively, picking and
choosing among patristic texts to support one’s pre-determined view, and many
have written such books. Sometimes the writing
and the debate between the writers can grow a bit nasty, as with the famous debate between Seraphim Rose and Lev Puhalo.
(The debate has also grown a bit one-sided, since Fr. Seraphim died in
1982 and can no longer answer his detractors.)
The present volume by Larchet is written in a more scholarly and
measured tone, and rather than arguing a case it simply presents the vast
amount of patristic material available and lets it speak for itself. When one reads the many patristic citations,
it quickly becomes clear that Fr. Seraphim was the horse to bet on.
The book
structures the patristic material according to the progressive journey of the
soul after death. Thus it has chapters
on what happens to the soul at the moment of death, and from the first day to
the third day after death, and from the third day to the ninth, and from the
ninth day to the fortieth, and after the fortieth day to the time of the last
judgment. This is a convenient way of
grouping the material, and especially since it builds on the Church’s
long-standing practice of commemorating the departed on the first, third,
ninth, and fortieth days after death.
But it imposes on the material more systematization and temporality than
the material actually allows, even though it compensates for this somewhat by
acknowledging the symbolic nature of some of the descriptions of what happens
after death and the altered nature of time after we have left this earth. Grouping experiences into what happens, for
example, from the third to the ninth day is a handy device for organizing
disparate material, but one must sit lightly on it as a temporal programme.
At the moment of
death and as one begins to step through the dark door from this visible world
to the invisible one, it seems that one confronts in one’s final moments the
realities which hitherto were invisible to the naked eye. One sees the demons, accusing, lying, and
grasping. One sees one’s guardian angel,
and possibly the saints who may come to welcome the departing Christian soul as
it steps from this world into the next. This
terrifying ordeal of facing the demons is the subject of much patristic
material, and many of the church’s prayers for the dying also deal with this. In the thought of the New Testament, the
abode of demons is not in hell below, but in the air above. Satan is “the prince of the power of the air”
(Eph. 2:2), the one whose “spiritual armies of wickedness” occupy “the
heavenlies” (Eph. 6:12). This is why, according to St. Athanasius, Christ died
lifted up on the cross, dying above the ground, in the open air. “The air is the sphere of the devil…the Lord
came to overthrow the devil and to purify the air and to make a way for us up
to heaven” (On the Incarnation, ch.
25). To get to God in heaven, one has to
run the gauntlet of these demonic armies, fighting one’s way through. The monastic stories of the deaths of some of
the desert Fathers relate their final struggle with these demonic foes. The Church’s liturgical tradition builds on
this, speaking of the demons as trying to seize the soul as it dies. For example Ps. 22:12-13 refers to “Many
bulls surrounding me; they open wide their mouths at me like a ravening and
roaring lion”, and the Canon for the
Departure of the Soul speaks of the demons as “noetic roaring lions” which
“seek to carry me away and bitterly torment me” (Ode 3). If one is a true believer, the angels defend
the departing soul, and carry it through the accusations of the demons to safety
and blessedness. The souls untouched by
grace or which have not finished their course in piety and faith are not able
to find their way to safety, but are dragged down to Hades to await their final
judgment.
It is in this final
progress to God that we find the Church’s teaching on the aerial toll-houses. The image of toll-houses was a poignant one
for the ancients, for every traveller experienced the tax and custom officials
who waited by the roadside to collect their due. One dreaded these encounters with the
toll-house officials. They had a
reputation for rudeness, corruption, and extortion, which made them an obvious
choice for homilists when they talked about the demons which barred the way of
would-be travellers on the road to heaven.
As these customs officials grilled the travellers about what they were
carrying, so the demons will grill and accuse us of our sins when we begin our
road to paradise. This tradition is
consistent throughout the Fathers, and can be found as early as Origen (who
died 254 A.D.): “When we depart from the
world, some beings will be seated at the boundary of this world, as if they
were exercising the office of tax collectors, very carefully searching to find
something in us that is theirs [i.e. sins]” Homilies
on Luke, 23). We will not be able to
avoid this searching accusation and inspection of our life. The accusations of the demons will reveal to
us just what sort of people we were.
This is valuable,
however terrifying the ordeal may prove. For here in this life we do not really know
what sort of people we are. We do not
hear our voices as they really sound, nor see our actions as they appear to
others. We hope that the bad things we hear
about ourselves are not true, and that we are simply being misunderstood. But on that day, confronted by demons and
accompanied by angels, we will hear the truth and will see ourselves as we
actually were. It will have a purifying
effect upon us, for we can only receive God’s grace and healing if we acknowledge
where we are wounded and what parts of our life need healing. Painful though it may be, we need to know the
truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth about ourselves. This self-knowledge, coming to us after death
and embodied in the metaphor of toll-houses, is essential to our final
blessedness and joy.
After death, all
souls must meet Christ, as part of their discovery of the way things really
are. In this life they might have
regarded Jesus as simply a great man, or a wonderful teacher of the Golden
Rule. Possibly, like the Muslims, they
regarded Him as a mere prophet.
Possibly, like the Pharisees, they regarded him as a false prophet and a
deceiver. However they may have regarded
Jesus in this life, then all will discover who He is really is: the divine Son of God, slain for salvation of
men, and sitting at the right hand of God as their only hope. Whether this acknowledgment of Christ’s power
brings tears of joy after a life of faith, or tears of grief after a life of
unbelief, all must bow down before His throne as see Him as He really is.
Then comes the
waiting for the Last Day, when all will be raised from the dead and stand
before Christ in their bodies to receive judgment, and truth, and
recompense. Some will wait in the land of
the dead (Hebrew Sheol; Greek Hades, or “hell”), filled with
dread. Some will wait there, in a state
of suspense. Some will wait with the
saints in the heavenly paradise, drenched in joy and anticipation of an even
greater happiness. But during this time
of waiting all can be helped by the prayers of the Church. These prayers are very general, for they are
offered for all men, both for those dying in fervent piety, and also for those
whose faith was more tepid and nominal, and even for those about whose inner
lives we know nothing. In examining the
prayers of the Church for the departed and her teaching about their state after
death, this needs to be kept in mind. The
Fathers do not present us with a tidy system, but with a living Lord, and with
pressing present obligations. We do not
know all would like to know, but we
know all we need to know to do what
God requires of us. And surely it is
best not to know everything? We are too
easily distracted from our duties as it is; how much more would we be
distracted if we knew all that was to come?
We will all
enter that undiscovered country soon enough.
Meanwhile, the Church gives us all that we need to prepare for that
final journey. We know that after we
die, we shall see the demons and the angels as they are, and be faced with our
lives and our sins as they really were.
We know that we shall see Christ on His throne. Now is the time to prepare for those
shattering revelations, and that shattering Presence. Eternity begins today.
http://classicalchristianity.com/2013/07/21/on-demonic-encounters-at-the-departure-of-the-soul/
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