Abstract
In explain how Christ saves us, Aquinas focuses predominantly on the Passion and the Resurrection. Staying within the general orbit of Aquinas’s theological vision, this essay seeks to give some theological definition to how Christ furthers our salvation even while dead. I will investigate why Aquinas says that merit and satisfaction are no longer possible after death and whether this also applies to Christ. Further, I will assess how instrumental causality might work when applied to the events of Christ as dead; especially those that relate to his body, such as being pierced. There are particular challenges here because such events relate to a corpse (rather than an integral human being) and they have a seemingly passive character. Finally, I will suggest a way to explain how the time and space bound events of Christ as dead, understood as actions of instrumental causality, can have a universal efficacy.
There is a whole question in the Summa Theologiae dedicated to explaining how the Passion brings about our salvation. 1 There is a question that does the same for the Resurrection; shorter, yet still a whole question. 2 When it comes to Christ as dead, the way that this situation contributes to our salvation is addressed more in passing; one needs to search among the articles of the question on the Descent into Hell to catch a snippet here or there. 3
What is clear is that, once Christ has died, Aquinas places all the emphasis on instrumental efficient and exemplar causality, while rejecting the idea of merit and satisfaction. For example, in the following text Aquinas affirms the possibility of instrumental efficient causality while excluding merit: [D]eath is considered in fact, inasmuch as the separation of soul and body has already taken place: and it is in this sense that we are now speaking of Christ’s death. In this way Christ’s death cannot be the cause of our salvation by way of merit, but only by way of causality, that is to say, inasmuch as the Godhead was not separated from Christ's flesh by death; and therefore, whatever befell Christ’s flesh, even when the soul was departed, was conducive to salvation in virtue of the Godhead united.
4
In another text, where Aquinas considers if the Descent into Hell delivered souls from Purgatory, Aquinas notes that “Christ’s descent into hell was not satisfactory; yet it operated in virtue of the Passion, which was satisfactory.” 5 The idea is that the Descent applies the satisfactory power of the Passion in a similar way that a Sacrament does; but it is not itself causing salvation by mode of satisfaction.
As to exemplar causality, Aquinas notes that the Descent saves us from going to Hell: [T]hrough sin man had incurred not only the death of the body, but also descent into hell. Consequently since it was fitting for Christ to die in order to deliver us from death, so it was fitting for Him to descend into hell in order to deliver us also from going down into hell.
6
All this fits in with what Aquinas has to say about the Resurrection as a cause of our salvation: instrumental and exemplar causality are in; all other forms of causality are out. 7
In light of this position, I would like to address some fundamental questions. Is it really the case that after death Christ cannot merit or satisfy? If so, what is the fundamental reason for this? It seems worth ‘stress testing’ the exclusion of merit and satisfaction. Moreover, if instrumental causality is the only mode of efficient causality left open to Christ, how exactly are we to understand this operating in the state of death? At least two objections arise: first, can we speak of theandric actions when we are dealing with a corpse? Is Aquinas justified to say, “whatever befell Christ’s flesh, even when the soul was departed, was conducive to salvation in virtue of the Godhead united”; second, can instrumental causality be applied when, in the death of Christ, things are being done to His body (such as being laid in the tomb or pierced in the side) rather than Christ doing things; after all, it would seem that an efficient cause – even an instrumental one – needs to be active rather than passive to be a cause at all.
Death and Merit
The issue that we have before us is whether Christ might further our salvation while dead by the way of merit. As we have seen, it is pretty clear that Aquinas thought not. This invites us to clarify what occurred at the death of Christ to close off this mode of salvific action.
In framing what follows, we need to keep in mind that it does seem to be part of the Catholic doctrine that for mere human beings, at least, there is no merit after death. In response to the errors of Martin Luther, Leo X denied the following proposition: “The souls in purgatory are not sure of their salvation, at least not all; nor is it proved by any arguments or by the Scriptures that they are beyond the state of meriting or of increasing in charity.” 8 This doctrine is bolstered by the ancient tradition of praying for the dead; a practice that implies a degree of impotence on their part as regards their salvation.
An obvious initial avenue is to consider the notion of ‘wayfarer’. Merit is about working towards a reward and so if one is no longer ‘on the way’ to the reward, perhaps merit makes no sense. Certainly, Aquinas does associate merit with being a wayfarer as we can see from his need to face up to objections that, in life, Christ was a comprehensor and so cannot merit even before His death. After all, Aquinas believed that Christ had the beatific vision from conception. Aquinas responds that Christ is a wayfarer in some respect; and on account of that he can merit: Now before His passion Christ’s mind saw God fully, and thus He had beatitude as far as it regards what is proper to the soul; but beatitude was wanting with regard to all else, since His soul was passible, and His body both passible and mortal.
9
The key here seems to be that, since “beatitude was wanting with regard to all else,” Christ was indeed a wayfarer in some manner; and as a wayfarer He was able to merit.
Yet if we consider the situation of the souls in purgatory, the principle that ‘as long as one is a wayfarer in some respect one can merit’ does not seem so clear after all. One can be a wayfarer – at least if we take the definition of beatitude wanting in some way as to soul or body – and not be able to merit. 10 After all, there is nothing of the essence of beatitude in those who are in purgatory – neither as to body or as to soul – and so they would, by this definition still be ‘on the way’. Yet, Aquinas’s position is that those in purgatory are beyond merit. 11
Leaving aside the notion of wayfarer then, is there something fundamental about the state of death that precludes merit?
There does not seem to be any change in the ontology or the psychology of the deceased that would account for this inability to merit. The souls in purgatory can do voluntary good actions (human acts of charity) that remit venial sin as to guilt; and these same acts remit the punishment due to forgiven mortal and venial sin. On this Aquinas says: After death the soul passes into another state similar to that of the angels: hence it cannot sin venially just as neither can the angel; nevertheless because the use of charity remains in the soul, which is the cause of the remission of venial sin, venial sin can be remitted to it even after death.
12
The actions of the separated soul are sufficiently human to have some kind of salvific efficacy, it appears: just not that efficacy that we call merit.
An obvious next step is to say that death is the Rubicon between an economy of meriting and not being able to merit merely by divine decree and not on account of something inherent in death itself. To some extent, this should not be a surprise because the whole economy of merit rests upon a divine decision to ‘run the show’ of our salvation in a particular way. 13 God might never have instituted a system of merit at all; and if He does He alone decides the criteria for its operation.
The idea of an ‘arbitrary’ cut-off at death might be the background to Aquinas’s hesitancy on whether souls in purgatory might merit accidental rewards, i.e. some reward over and above the degree of bliss that the charity they die with warrants. This possibility is found in the Sentences: After this life there can be no merit in respect of the essential reward, but there can be in respect of some accidental reward, so long as man remains in the state of the way, in a sense. Consequently in Purgatory there can be a meritorious act in respect of the remission of venial sin.
14
If there was something about death itself that precluded merit, then even accidental rewards would be out of the question. Admittedly, Aquinas does not mention the idea of accidental rewards in later writings but neither does he explicitly correct himself (as he occasionally does on other issues). 15
But if death is the border of merit merely by divine decree, there are plausible reasons to argue that this does not apply to Christ even if it does apply to us. Two are of particular weight.
First, within Aquinas’s own soteriological system, Christ can continue to do human action (instrumental albeit) that are sufficient for human salvation after His death: while mere humans are basically impotent. For Christ, death simply is not a cut-off point in the drama of salvation as it is with every other human being. Hence, just because a given type of salvific action (e.g. merit) is no longer possible for mere human beings does not allow us to say with confidence that it is ruled out for Christ.
Second, we ought to take note of the different relationship of grace to merit in mere human beings as compared to Christ. In us, grace can have the character of reward, but never in Him. Rather, in His human soul, habitual sanctifying grace is a necessary result of the hypostatic union. 16 Moreover, in us grace can grow, but in Him not. Hence, for us, there needs to be a moment when this growth reaches its terminus and the reward of divine life is established in its final state. Once this takes place and grace has the definite character of reward, it cannot be the principle of merit anymore; as merit and reward related to each other as cause to effect. For mere men, death seems to be that moment. But for Christ, death is not a moment when the growth in grace reaches its terminus (that would be His conception) and, moreover, grace in Christ can never have the character of reward. So, grace in the soul of the dead man Christ retains it character as a principle of merit and not a reward and so, perhaps, meriting is still possible.
Obviously, these two reasons do not prove that Christ can merit or did merit after death; but they do show that the situation of Christ is not the same as for other dead human beings and this difference should make us cautious to argue from the situation of mere human beings to that of Christ. If fact, given the startling difference between Christ and all other human beings (both as to ontology and soteriology), we perhaps ought to expect a difference.
Death and Satisfaction
When it comes to how Aquinas explains the salvific efficacy of Christ’s Resurrection, the mode of satisfaction is not mentioned: it is never addressed and rejected, it is simply ignored. Presumably, this is because Aquinas holds to some form of dependance of satisfaction on merit.
There are, indeed, texts where Aquinas makes satisfaction dependent on the conditions for merit such that if merit is not possible, then neither is satisfaction: It would seem that one man cannot fulfill satisfactory punishment for another. Because merit is requisite for satisfaction. Now one man cannot merit or demerit for another, since it is written (Ps. 61:12): “Thou wilt render to every man according to his works.”
17
The punishment with the souls in purgatory sustain is not able to properly be called satisfaction, since satisfaction requires the work of merit; but taken more loosely it is called satisfaction by paying the debt of punishment.
18
Christ satisfies for us 1 John 2:2. “He is propitiation for our sins”. But satisfaction without merit is not possible. Therefore, Christ merits for us.
19
What is striking about these texts is that the connection of merit and satisfaction is assumed, but never explained. How might we understand this connection in the absence of a clear articulation of the dependence by Aquinas?
For Aquinas, satisfaction is understood in the context of an offence. There is an offender and an offended party; and the offender (or his representative) does something good of such quality that the offended party accepts this as making up for the original offence. Aquinas states, “He properly atones for an offense who offers something which the offended one loves equally, or even more than he detested the offense”. 20
Within this overarching dynamic, it is important to note two distinct dimensions: one ordered to reestablishing justice and the other to reestablishing friendship. Aquinas says: But when the obligation is based on an offense, there is inequality not only of justice but also of friendship, so that for the offense to be removed by satisfaction, not only must the equality of justice be restored by the payment of a punishment equal to the offense, but also the equality of friendship must be reinstated, which is impossible so long as an obstacle to friendship remains.
21
Here we see that satisfaction is about both dealing with the debt of punishment due to sin and mending the broken relationship between the offender and the offended. Now, this latter dimension (the friendship) is a kind of reward given to the offender, by the offended, on account of the goodness of the work he undertakes (the work that is satisfactory). It is perhaps on account of the dimension of friendship-to-be-restored that the English word ‘atonement’ is sometimes used for ‘satisfaction’.
In this way, satisfaction has something of the character of merit imbedded in it because it includes a reward of friendship; and so, we might reasonably conclude, that satisfaction cannot take place when the conditions that permit merit are not present.
Perhaps, even if we focused purely on the aspect of satisfaction that relates to the reestablishing of justice through the imposition of a penalty, it is possible to see some connection with merit. According to Aquinas, when satisfaction flows from charity, there is a diminution of punishment: i.e. less punishment need be undergone than otherwise. This remission of punishment is a reward from the one who, in justice, could impose a greater punishment (i.e. the offended party). Aquinas makes this point when discussing how one man might satisfy for the sins of another and might need undergo less punishment on account of the charity this vicarious satisfaction manifests. This only makes sense if a remission from punishment is given as a reward for the charity and, if it is a reward, we are in the territory of merit: Nor is it necessary that he who satisfies for another should undergo a greater punishment than the principal would have to undergo (as some maintain, who argue that a man profits more by his own punishment than by another’s), because punishment derives its power of satisfaction chiefly from charity whereby man bears it. And since greater charity is evidenced by a man satisfying for another than for himself, less punishment is required of him who satisfies for another, than of the principal.
22
In summary then, we might say that to affirm satisfaction in the fullest sense, there needs to be a situation where merit is possible. Stripped of its meritorious dimension, satisfaction is about the brute reestablishing of justice through the offender undergoing a punishment strictly proportionate to his crime. In contrast, satisfaction more amply understood includes the reestablishing of friendship and the diminution of punishment both as a reward for the good work done; and if a reward, by way of merit in some sense.
So, can we affirm that the events of Christ as dead (such as the piercing) might operate for our salvation by way of satisfaction? There seems no doubt that it has the penal element necessary, so there is nothing against it on that score. 23 Given the connection of satisfaction to merit outlined above, the issue would, therefore, come down simply to whether the conditions for merit exist while Christ is dead. On that point, as noted above, I think there is reason to say that they might.
Instrumental Efficient Causality and the Dead Christ
At first sight, given the use that Aquinas makes of instrumental efficient causality to explain how the Resurrection contributes to our salvation, there should be no problem in applying this to situations pertaining to Christ as dead. But, in fact, there are several issues that need careful navigation.
First, since we are considering Christ as dead, it is not the humanity of Christ as a whole that is in play here: it is either his soul or his corpse that is an instrument. Especially when it comes to a consideration of His corpse as an instrument of his divinity, we need to ask whether these actions have a sufficiently human dimension to be true theandric action?
Second, at least some of the events of Christ as dead seem to have a strong sense of passivity. The question naturally arises as to whether this passivity can be harmonized with the requirements of instrumental causality. For example, the piercing of Christ’s side is something done onto Him; but, it would seem that instruments contribute as causes by actions, not passions.
Third, is it not it the case that an instrument needs to be in contact with the thing that it produces an effect on? After all, a chisel must physically touch the marble and it produces its effect of cutting only at the moment it is being used by the principal agent (the sculptor) as an instrument. Here we have in mind a contact of both space and time. How might we square this with the events of Christ as dead? Given that they took place both in a specific place and time, how can they be causes of our salvation here and now. Of course, this third difficulty is common to any application of instrumental efficient causality to Christ human actions (And not just to Him as dead); at least in terms of those actions having universal salvific significance.
Theandric Actions and the Dead Christ
Aquinas seems to equate the notion of Christ’s humanity as an instrument of His divinity with the Dionysian concept of theandric actions: Besides, Christ’s human operation derived a certain divine efficacy through His union with the Godhead, even as the action of the secondary agent acquires efficacy from the principal agent. Consequently, His every action or passion was salutary: for which reason Dionysius (De Div. Nom., ii.) calls Christ’s human operations theandric – i.e., God-man-like; as well as because it is the action of God and man.
24
The question now is whether we can really justify calling the events of Christ’s dead body theandric (e.g. the events of being pierced in the side and being laid in the tomb); since the substantial form (the human soul) is no longer informing the corpse. 25
Aquinas is clear enough that when God moves a creature, He respects the proper mode of the creature, since “it belongs to Divine providence, not to destroy but to preserve the nature of things.” 26 The proper mode of human action finds its source in the human will. In that sense, despite the real utility of the analogy, the humanity of Christ, as an instrument, is not exactly like an axe. 27 His humanity is as a rational instrument.
We should seek to affirm the theandric and voluntary character of the events of Christ’s dead body by appeal to the continuation of the hypostatic union even in death. 28 It is because the hypostatic union is undisturbed by death that, in being pierced and in being laid in the tomb, the individual whose body acts as an instrument is the very same individual that can humanly will these things to happen. This is all despite the substantial separation of the body and soul. In this sense, as long as these bodily events find a corresponding movement of the human will of Christ, the action retains a minimal sense of being truly human; and in that way the actions are theandric.
Instruments and Passions
If we start with the notion of an instrument as a moved mover, it will seem that an instrument cannot be an instrument if it is passive. Obviously, an instrument does receive motion from the principal agent, but it seems necessary that (as a moved mover) it also acts on the effect. For example, the chisel does receive motion from the sculptor but, as instrument, it does not receive motion from the marble: rather it causes some motion (change) in the marble.
This is not a problem for the actions of the separated soul of Christ (preaching, illuminating, etc.) because these are clearly actions and not passions; but this observation seems to cast doubt on the possibility of understanding events like the piercing and the being laid in the tomb as acts of instrumental causality because in each case something is being done to the body rather than the body doing something.
One response to this problem could be to note that because the body (as still united to the Word) could resist the actions place against it (in the same manner that Aquinas argued that Christ could have stopped the nails being driven into His hands), there is always a human action when something is done to Christ’s body. 29 The body could act so as to resist the force placed against it and that it does not is because the human will of Christ (in the manner explained above) does not will this. But, in such a scenario, there is still no action on the part of Christ’s body. Even if we say there is an active choice not to impede the force place on the body, this would only allow us to affirm activity on the part of the human will of Christ (and so His soul); the body would remain wholly passive.
Part of the solution here – at least with the piercing – is to note the miraculous nature of the event. In his Commentary on the Gospel of John, Aquinas suggests that the gushing forth of blood and water is not the natural effect of the piercing of a dead body. In that sense, the body is acting. He says: To make sure that Jesus was dead one of the soldiers pierced his side with a spear . . . This is a remarkable miracle, that blood should flow from the body of a dead person where blood congeals. And if someone says that this was because the body was still warm, the flow of the water cannot be explained without a miracle, since this was pure water.
30
There is perhaps another (and ultimately more satisfactory) way to show how Christ’s body itself is an instrument even in its passions; this is by opening up the scope of instrumental causality to include what van Roo calls instruments of conventional signs.
Van Roo contrasts instruments of conventional signs with instruments of art. The latter instruments (such as Aquinas’s example of the axe) bring about corporeal change in corporeal things that are touched by the instrument; whereas the former signify the will of the principal agent and bring this intention about by the making of a sign. Instruments of art bring about changes in natural being whereas instruments of sign bring about changes in the intentional and/or juridical order. 31
An example of an instrument of sign is a handshake, which manifests the will of the principal agent and brings about a change in the juridical order: it seals a deal. It is important to note here that the physical element of this action really is a crucial part of the instrumentality. The outward gesture obviously seeks to express the interior disposition of the will of the principal agent but, significantly, there is no actual agreement until the exterior action (of shaking hands) is performed.
What seems of particular importance for us here is that, unlike instruments of art, instruments of conventional sign can be performed through a passion and not only through an action. We can see this if we take as an example a peace treaty as an instrument that brings about peace. The treaty is completed by the worded statement receiving a signature or the seal. Certainly, there is the act of signing but it is ultimately the document as signed that brings about the cessation of hostilities.
So, the question becomes, can we really understand Christ’s experience in death within this framework of the instrumentality of conventional signs?
This would mean something like understanding Christ’s piercing to be a sign of His will to shed His blood so as to remit sin. This sign is made by the corporeal piercing; and there is no true sign without it. Hence, the piercing is not accidental but rather it completes the sign; it is a true instrument. Likewise, his being laid in the tomb would be a sign of His will to put death to death. Both these events would cause in us a right (i.e. an effect in the juridical order) to receive salvific divine assistance.
In truth, Aquinas does not specify what kind of instrument he is thinking of when he uses instrumental causality to explain the salvific causality of the Passion or the Resurrection; but this is almost certainly merely a factor of him never making a clear distinction between instrument of art and of sign. However, it is worth noting Aquinas’s interest in exemplar causality when it comes to soteriology: for example, that exemplar causality is operative in the Resurrection because Christ’s rising causes the spiritual resurrection of our souls. Exemplar causality is ultimately rooted in the fact that effects share some likeness to their causes but this is particularly the case with signs that are causes. For example, a handshake as a sign of peace cause peace in the sense of it bringing about (at least temporarily) the laying aside of a weapon. Furthermore, we ought to remember that the notion of sign is a leitmotif of Aquinas’s approach to the Sacraments which are, of course, in his view signs that are also instrumental causes. 32
The Problem of the Particular Event with a Universal Scope
The notion of instruments of conventional sign turns out to be useful in dealing with another issue that arises if we apply the notion of instrumental causality to the events of the dead Christ.
Instruments of art cause things by contact and they cause, whatever they cause, contemporaneously. For example, in Aquinas’s standard illustration of the axe, this instrument must be in contact with the wood to cut it and causes (i.e. cuts) only at the moment that it is wielded by the carpenter. But the saving events that we are dealing with here took place in Christ’s humanity at a particular location and moment: how do they make contact with us who live in a different place and time?
In the question in the Summa Theologiae where Aquinas addresses the causality of the Resurrection, an objector notes: [Christ’s Resurrection] is not the efficient cause; because an efficient cause acts only through contact, whether spiritual or corporeal. Now it is evident that Christ's Resurrection has no corporeal contact with the dead who shall rise again, owing to distance of time and place; and similarly it has no spiritual contact, which is through faith and charity, because even unbelievers and sinners shall rise again. STh III 56.1 obj 3
To this Aquinas responds: Christ’s Resurrection the efficient cause of ours, through the Divine power whose office it is to quicken the dead; and this power by its presence is in touch with all places and times; and such virtual contact suffices for its efficiency. STh III 56.1 ad3
This response seeks to solve the problem with an appeal to Christ’s divinity; a reality that clearly does surpass the limitations of space and time. Yet, this is not wholly satisfactory. By retreating into the divinity of Christ to solve the problem, Aquinas is falling back on the principal agent and, seemingly, abandoning the instrumental cause and instrumental causality. If the contact depends on the principal agent and not on the instrument then, it seems, the effect is not produced through the agency of the instrument after all: the instrument fades into the background as a mere adornment. 33
The limitations of corporeal contact can be overcome somewhat by appeal to what might be called intentional instrumental causality. Aquinas himself makes this point when he deals with miracles. 34 There he notes that God, as the principal cause of the miracle, can use a silent interior prayer (of a believer) as an instrument. But here there is no bodily contact between the instrument and the effect merely what one might call intentional contact. This type of contact is free from the constraints of space because the action of the instrument is itself immaterial (i.e. a thought or a desire). Likewise, it breaks free of the constraints of time because an intentional reality can be future orientated, such as a desire to travel to Morocco next summer.
This is all very well for the soul based actions of the dead Christ, like the preaching among the dead. However, we still need to find a way to unshackle the bodily events of the dead Christ (such as his piercing) from the limitations of corporeal contact in the here and now.
It seems that the notion of instruments of conventional sign has some utility here because signs do not need to have the kind of contact that is required of instruments of art, either as to space or time. 35 A sign can affect a reality when the sign is made far away: a peace treaty signed aboard a ship can bring peace on land. A sign can also bring about an effect in the future; an example of this is a signature on a Last Will and Testament.
If we now seek to apply these insights to the bodily events of the dead Christ, we might argue that these, as instrument of sign, establish a future right to the divine assistance needed for salvation; such as a right to habitual sanctifying grace, in a manner analogous to the right to an inheritance established by a Will.
As noted above, no claim is made here that Aquinas explicitly or even implicitly operates within the distinction of instruments of art and instruments of sign. Rather, the examples he gives seem to relate more clearly only to the former. Would Aquinas’s opposition to the notion of causal occasionalism as applied to the Sacraments as causes suggest that he would reject the application of instruments of convention sign to matters of soteriology? 36 I would suggest not. The issue with occasionalism is that the sign is merely aimed at the principal agent affecting something in it: e.g. “a man who on presenting a leaden coin, receives, by the king's command, a hundred pounds.” 37 Here the sign (of the coin) directly moves the treasurer to act (i.e. to pay out the assigned value). But what we are suggesting here is something different; it is a sign that effects something in an object other than the principal agent but that accounts for the activity of the principal agent on that other thing: e.g. a Will establishes a right in the beneficiary and on account of that right the executor is moved to pay.
Conclusion
When it comes to explaining how the actions and events of Christ existence establish salvation, Aquinas lets the Passion and Resurrection do the heavy lifting. The salvific significance of the state of Christ as dead is not ignored, but it is peripheral.
In articulating the mode by which Christ establishes redemption, Aquinas proposes death as the end of the road for merit and satisfaction. I have argued here that if merit and satisfaction are inoperative after death this is not on account of some absolute incompatibility between either merit or satisfaction and death. Death does not compromise the possibility of properly human actions (a prerequisite for merit) and those in purgatory can still be counted as wayfarers in some respect since they lack key elements of beatitude.
Furthermore, I have argued that, even if merit and satisfaction were somehow fundamentally incompatible with the state of being dead in the case of every mere human being, this would not seamlessly lead to the conclusion that it was so for Christ. There are important differences to take into consideration here, such as the fact that in Christ grace is never a reward, as it is in us. Hence, for Christ, death is not the moment when grace moves from being the principle of merit to being the reward of merit.
I am certainly content to follow Aquinas’s position that merit and satisfaction are not operative in Christ’s actions and passions after death, but I think it is well to see that – if this really is the case – this follows on from a divine decree and not from some inherent impossibility.
Of course, given that God does all things well, we might venture a reason as to why: (1) God determines things this way; that is to say, why does God not permit mere humans to further their salvation by merit and satisfaction after death and (2) why Christ ought to conform to this economy despite the differences in His situation.
As to the first, this certainly conduces to the unity of the Mystical Body in sense that it implies an impotence on the side of those in purgatory and an imperative for the living to assist them.
As to the second, perhaps we can appeal to exemplar causality and draw upon the sentiment of Gaudium et Spes that “Christ fully reviews man to man and makes known his most high calling.” 38
For Aquinas, the continuity of Christ’s salvific modality – from conception to Ascension – is ensured by instrumental efficient causality. As long as Christ’s humanity is united to His divinity, it can be an instrument.
However, the unique situation of Christ as dead presents challenges: can the actions of Christ’s corpse be accounted as theandric; how are the passions of this corpse instrumental, and; how do these events produce their effect instrumentally when the effect is separated by vast gaps of space and time?
The last two of these challenges are best met by making a distinction within the notion of instrumental causality that Aquinas himself does not make but that is not inimical to his thought. Specifically, the notion of instruments of conventional sign shows itself to be very useful. Instruments of conventional sign can cause effects by passion (and not merely action) and, since they operate in an intentional or juridical mode, they are not restricted by time and space in the way that instruments of art most certainly are.
Footnotes
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.