Introduction

Tucked away in the Apostles’ Creed is a curious phrase: “the communion of the saints.” What exactly is meant by this? Given that all major Christian traditions accept the Apostles’ Creed, this is something one expects to find wide agreement on. Unfortunately, that is not true. Different Christian traditions understand the phrase differently. This article will explain how different Christian Traditions understand the communion of the saints, the Scriptural support for the doctrine, the historical evidence, and the practical/pastoral implications. Along the way it will define several necessary key terms.

Core Question: How “Leaky” is Heaven?

Imagine for a moment you are talking to a recent widow. She wonders, “My husband was a Christian. Does still know what is going on with me and our children here on earth?” In my case, my late wife was a strong Christian who lost her battle with cancer in 2019. Does Lori currently know what is going on with me and the children? Does she retain knowledge of loved ones, or world events as they unfold? Or, alternately, has she dropped those cares and concerns and she is wholly preoccupied with uninterrupted worship of God? To phrase the question another way, we know that the barrier between heaven and earth prevents those on earth from peering directly into heaven, but does the barrier work the same way for those in heaven? Can the saints in heaven see what is happening on earth? Do they have knowledge of both loved ones and the world from their vantage point in heaven? Is heaven “leaky”? Does it allow information about this world to “leak” into heaven for the saints there to stay informed?

I have had the privilege of asking these questions to multiple groups of people, and the general reactions are predictable. For Orthodox and Catholics, these questions are standard fare. The response is built into the liturgical practices of both churches. Additionally, some Anglicans retain those liturgical practices although as of this writing I have not had the opportunity to ask Anglicans directly. However, whenever I ask these questions of Protestants, I get blank stares. This is simply not a question that is asked in Protestant circles.

Your faith tradition determines how you understand Scripture. It sets which questions are important to ask of Scripture, which questions are less important, and which are unimportant. The questions we ask of Scripture focus our attention on some verses while causing us to glide over others. The questions we ask of Scripture determine how we understand the totality of Scripture, how we answer the “What is Christianity all about?” question, and how we prioritize our daily walk with the Lord.

Personally, I do not believe that it is wrong that our faith tradition sets our Christian agendas. In fact, I think that it is beneficial for us. We can’t learn everything all at once. Allowing our faith tradition to guide us in our understanding of Scripture is allowing the wisdom of past Christians to teach us and help us learn Scripture. I like to think of it as being discipled by the saints of the past who helped to form my faith tradition. Our faith traditions guide us towards spiritual growth even if that growth follows very different paths.

For those who think they merely interpret the plain meaning of Scripture (always doing so in context, of course) will probably have a strong negative reaction to what I’ve just written. To a large extent, I am sure that they do indeed interpret Scripture that way. After all, Scripture may contain many mysteries, but God certainly wanted it to be understood. However, the only way to be sure one’s faith tradition is not mediating Scriptural interpretation is to step outside one’s faith tradition and study Scripture with those in another tradition. For those who have been stuck in a Protestant, Catholic, or Orthodox eco-system without ever venturing out of it, there is no way to know how much that tradition (or eco-system) is mediating the interpretation of Scripture.

For the all the benefits our faith traditions bring, there are times when they trip us up. There are times when a tradition either de-prioritizes important questions, or, worse, it does not ask the question at all. Worse, certain topics exhibit the tendency to fail to ask questions more than others. The communion of the saints and the “leakiness” of heaven are prime examples.

The Two-Story View

All Christians view heaven and earth as “up there” and “down here.” This the two-story view. There is a barrier that exists between the “up there” and the “down here.” The only question is how strong is that barrier. Does it “leak” information from “down here” to “up there?”[1]

Most Protestants do not think that heaven is “leaky.” They maintain that there is a strong barrier between here and there. God can transcend that barrier, and God authorizes his angels to occasionally pass through that barrier, but not the saints who have preceded us.

Orthodox and Catholics differ from Protestants over the “leakiness” of the barrier. They understand that heaven is quite “leaky” and that the saints who have preceded us not only know about events on earth, but also have knowledge of their loved ones. In fact, in heaven they continue to pray for the world and for their loved ones.

How each tradition views the “leakiness” between heaven and earth pervades how the communion of saints in the Apostles’ Creed has been understood. Orthodox and Catholics are largely similar while Protestants have differing views even though the views are not always consistent. Some Protestants sound more like Catholics while some Orthodox and Catholics are closer to certain Protestant views.

The “unleaky” view of the barrier between here and there is best exemplified in Luke 16:26.[2] In context, this is Jesus’ parable of the rich man and Lazarus. In Hades, the rich man sees Lazarus in the distance resting in Abraham’s bosom. The rich man cries out to Abraham asking for Lazarus to bring him some water, a tiny bit of relief from his suffering (16:23-24). Abraham reminds the rich man that he enjoyed good things during his time on earth while Lazarus suffered (16:25). Also, “between us and you there is a great chasm fixed, in order that those who wish to come over from here to you may not be able, and that none may cross over from there to us” (16:26). Verse 26 teaches clearly that the barrier between “up there” and “down here” (or, more precisely for this parable, between the earthly realm and the spiritual realm) is firm and fixed, and no one may traverse it.

However, proponents of the “leaky” view also find support in this same passage. First, they note that the rich man retains a knowledge of his brothers. He knows that they have not yet converted from their sinful ways (16:27-28) and he believes a visit from Lazarus will change their minds (16:30). Moreover, the barrier that exists between heaven and hell is a barrier of who can travel where; it is a barrier through which communication occurs. If the barrier between heaven and hell allows communication, how can one say that those in heaven have no understanding of earthly events? That seems odd and perhaps a contradiction.

One attempt to prevent Luke 16:26 from being understood as a strong barrier is to claim that the parable refers to the eternal state of the rich man and Lazarus, not the current state of people who have died. It speaks to the eschatological reality after the return of Christ. Thus, the barrier in 16:26 refers to the final barrier that will exist between heaven and hell. This is almost certainly wrong. When the rich man expresses concern for his brothers, it is a concern for them because they are still on earth, and he does not want them to join him in that place of torment. He wants to see them converted. Therefore, it is difficult to understand this parable as referring to the final eschatological state.

There is another way to approach this verse, one that lends support to a “leaky” view between “up there” and “down here.” The barrier of 16:26 refers to the barrier between heaven and hell (or Hades). When the rich man asks for Lazarus to go talk to his brothers, Abraham does not say that there is a similar barrier between “up there” and “down here.” Given the context, if such a barrier exists, then the reader would expect to be told that. Instead, Abraham answers that sending Lazarus would be ineffective. They already have Moses and the Prophets: “If they so not listen to Moses and the Prophets, neither will they be persuaded if someone rises from the dead” (16:29, 31).

In the final analysis, focusing too much on 16:26 to establish one’s view of the “leakiness” of the barrier between “up there” and “down here” misses the point of the parable. The point is that Moses and the prophets (a euphemism for Scripture) speak more powerfully than someone rising from the dead to talk to them (besides, Jesus has already done that), and that the unrepentant heart is not persuaded by someone rising from the dead. That is the main point of the parable. The issue of whether the saints in heaven have knowledge of what’s going on “down here” is off topic. It has the feel of majoring in minors.

 

(This is part 1 of a 3 part series. Read part 2 here.)

 

[1] I know that leaks don’t travel upwards, but it’s just an analogy. Just go with it for the sake of the article.

[2] There are numerous verses in Revelation that can be used for a “leaky” view. Those will be covered below in the biblical defense of the communion of the saints.