What is “the Heroic Act of Charity”? An introduction and primer

In a previous essay, I wrote about why prayer for the dead is a necessity—not just a “nice thing to do” during November. For all our prayers and good deeds to be spiritually efficacious we need to be in a state of grace simply because we cannot share supernatural love without possessing it ourselves.

That said, let’s consider a particular act of supernatural love towards the holy souls, one somewhat forgotten in our day: the Heroic Act of Charity.

Put succinctly, the “Heroic Act of Charity” is a person’s offering to God of all the satisfaction for their sins merited in this life, as well as the satisfaction accruing to them from suffrages (e.g., Masses offered for their intention of their repose) after death on behalf of those deceased souls to whom God wills to apply them. Traditionally, this offering was made through the Blessed Virgin Mary. It is giving up those works of satisfaction, from this life and offered for us after this life, on behalf of others.

Again, as with the “communion of saints,” a general contemporary religious illiteracy means these concepts–once clear to earlier generations of Catholics–can be strange or confusing to some. Let’s clarify.

By the “communion of saints,” we noted that all those joined to God are also joined to each other: those on earth actively working with God towards their salvation, those in Purgatory being purified of what still impedes them from total union with God, and those in heaven who have achieved the purpose of their life. The lifeblood that connects them all and which enables them to assist each other is supernatural charity.

But we also need to include a topic that once upon a time was connected with teaching about indulgences, which we rarely treat today: why does the Church ever speak about indulgences?

Put simply, it is connected to the theology of sin. Sin, after all, is not normal. God did not intend man to be a sinner. Freedom is not moral neutrality between good and evil, but the ability to do good and thereby make it mine.

But we know that everyone—except for Jesus and Mary–are sinners. We may be greater or lesser sinners, but we are sinners.

The Church traditionally spoke about “eternal” and “temporal” punishment owed for sin. Why does God punish us because of sin? Not because He is sadistic but for two reasons: love and justice.

God loves us and wants our love back. Love is not a feeling, an attitude, or a vibe. Love is something rooted in a common, shared reality which, in the case of God and the soul, can only be good. Either God and the human person share goodness (which means the person is good, and thus resembles God) or they do not (in which case the person is evil and thus lacks something in common with God). Persisting in grave evil until death leads to hell, not because God wants to punish us but because God and the person have nothing in common and the person does not want something in common.

As for justice, God invites us into relationship with Him—but we are not His equals. God is our Creator and, therefore, has certain rights over us. God created humanity good but mankind chose sin. That choice is not indifferent: just because a person chooses evil doesn’t make evil good. (This is the fundamental error of the so-called “right to choose”). God still has the right to expect that man be what He created him to be. When made makes himself bad, it’s not just his business. In justice, God has the right to demand of man the goodness He originally gave him.

Every sin, therefore, has a twofold aspect, reflected in the terms “eternal” and “temporal” punishment. Eternal punishment is the debt incurred by sin, which is remitted in the sacraments of Baptism and Reconciliation.

But sin isn’t just the evil I did. Sin is also the evil consequences that sin leaves behind. I can repent of killing somebody and be forgiven, but that person is still dead and all the evil that flows from that situation which is but should not have been has to be somehow repaired. That is what we speak of by “temporal punishment.”

This idea is not esoteric or difficult to understand. As we approach the Christmas season, it will be prominently on display. Consider two examples. In “The Christmas Carol,” Scrooge sees what a rotten world exists now and in the future because of his greed. Tiny Tim dies. Most people are happy when Ebenezer dies. His greed fuels even more greed (e.g., Mrs. Dilbert pilfering his bedclothes to pawn). In “It’s a Wonderful Life” George Bailey sees the opposite: what a hellish place, absent his self-sacrificing good deeds, Bedford Falls would have been.

This is what Catholic theology is talking about in the temporal consequences of sin.

Aware that Christ is our ultimate redemption, the truly repentant person also wants to do what he can to “build up” the “treasury” of good in the world and to pay down his debts of evildoing. How we “quantify” those things are, obviously, not within our limited human capacity to grasp: we leave that to God. But we recognize that we want somehow to leave “more good”–more supernatural good–behind after we die.

As we are all sinners, that satisfaction from our earthly lives (and the satisfaction others offer through their Masses, acts of charity, and prayers for us after death) would normally be ours. In the Heroic Act of Charity, we offer God that satisfaction, surrendering it to Him to apply to whatever soul(s) to whom He wishes. This is a brave and generous act on behalf of others, a willingness to be spiritually poor for the good of others.

Should we fear we are “exposing” ourselves to bad things? No. As in many things throughout life, we are often invited to trust God that, in relying on His Love and Mercy (versus our own self-sufficiency), we not only please Him but actually come out ahead. The Heroic Act of Charity is a great spiritual gift but, as Scripture reminds us, God will never be outdone in generosity by man. The Heroic Act of Charity is also a Heroic Act of Hope and of Trust, that God does not put us in a worse situation for wanting to be better.

Many people offer particular acts of charity or satisfaction (e.g., pains or sufferings) they receive in this world for the salvation of the faithful departed in Purgatory. The Heroic Act adds the additional element of even being willing to offer part of one’s eternity–one’s temporal satisfaction–on behalf of another.

Does that mean we make the Heroic Act with a wink-wink, nod-nod “expectation” on God’s part? No. Trust is not presumption: we do not do good expecting God to match us. We and God are not equal bargaining partners and whatever good we have originates from Him. But, in surrendering what is ours to Him to dispose of as He wills, we perform a truly supererogatory act that offers, out of love, what is ours on behalf of another. It is perhaps as close as man might come in the spiritual order to having “no greater love than to lay down one’s life for one’s friend” (Jn 15:13).

This trust in God also challenges another error of modern thinking: the idolatry of “disinterestedness.” Ever since Immanuel Kant in the 18th century, people have mistakenly thought that doing the good had to be somehow “disinterested,” that any personal interest in doing the good taints it. Of course, we don’t want to do the good out of hypocritical reasons, to promote ourselves or insincerely. But the good and my good also do not need to be opposed. When I repent of my sins, my motives are often mixed: they can involve love of God, whom my sins offend, as well as fear of God, whom I do not want to lose (or be punished by) because of those sins. Attrition (sorrow motivated by supernatural fear of the consequences of sin) is not bad; it is already incipient contrition (sorrow motivated by love of God) which Christ’s merits in the Sacrament of Reconciliation perfects.

As long as we are supernaturally motivated to journey towards God, recognizing the identity between what God wants and what is our own genuine good is not a bad thing. The life God wants of us and a truly human life stand in direct, not inverse, ratio.

So, should a Catholic consider a Heroic Act of Charity on behalf of the faithful departed? My purpose here is simply to explain what it is and how it fits into what we believe. Whether a particular person should make the offering is something best left to the person in consultation with a good spiritual director. (One should also remember that the Act is always revocable.) I defer to supernatural prudence and spiritual maturity in that election.