I'd rather be cleaned first.

Although C. S. Lewis is much loved by all Christians (and deservedly so!), it's not well known that Lewis came to believe that prayers for the dead and purgatory were, after all, commonsensical Christian realities in the Grand Scheme of Things; that is, they made a good bit of Christian common sense to those who trust and love God. Here's what Lewis says in Letters To Malcolm: Chiefly on Prayer:

Of course I pray for the dead. The action is so spontaneous, so all but inevitable, that only the most compulsive theological case against it would deter me. And I hardly know how the rest of my prayers would survive if those for the dead were forbidden. At our age, the majority of those we love best are dead. What sort of intercourse with God could I have if what I love best were unmentionable to him?

I believe in Purgatory.

Mind you, the Reformers had good reasons for throwing doubt on the "Romish doctrine concerning Purgatory" as that Romish doctrine had then become . . . . The right view returns magnificently in Newman's DREAM. There, if I remember it rightly, the saved soul, at the very foot of the throne, begs to be taken away and cleansed. It cannot bear for a moment longer "with its darkness to affront that light." Religion has claimed Purgatory.

Our souls demand Purgatory, don't they? Would it not break the heart if God said to us, "It is true, my son, that your breath smells and your rags drip with mud and slime, but we are charitable here and no one will upbraid you with these things, nor draw away from you. Enter into the joy"? Should we not reply, "With submission, sir, and if there is no objection, I'd rather be cleaned first." It may hurt, you know." -"Even so, sir."

I assume that the process of purification will normally involve suffering. Partly from tradition; partly because most real good that has been done me in this life has involved it. But I don't think the suffering is the purpose of the purgation. I can well believe that people neither much worse nor much better than I will suffer less than I or more. . . . The treatment given will be the one required, whether it hurts little or much.

My favourite image on this matter comes from the dentist's chair. I hope that when the tooth of life is drawn and I am 'coming round',' a voice will say, 'Rinse your mouth out with this.' This will be Purgatory. The rinsing may take longer than I can now imagine. The taste of this may be more fiery and astringent than my present sensibility could endure. But . . . it will [not] be disgusting and unhallowed." (Chapter 20, paragraphs 7-10)

Lewis had no doubt that God in his infinite love will welcome us into his Presence with open arms. But he also had reason to believe that we Christians will quite naturally like to polish our shoes, mend the tears in our shirts, and brush our teeth before we step into the Throne Room. Of course, if may be something of Lewis' British appreciation for politeness that prompts him to want to "clean up a bit" and comb his hair that teases him into an appreciation for purgatory. Be that as it may, such a Christian impulse reflects no desire to improve ourselves morally or engage in some form of salvation by works. The conviction that purgatory may be an appropriate vestibule for the Throne Room simply reflects a Christian's redeemed desire to "get ready for worship," making sure he or she knows well how to step into the Royal Presence. As I understand Lewis, a willingness to be in purgatory is simply living out one's desire to learn how to express a fully an appreciative life of Christian courtesy before God; perhaps we might well take a final lesson or two on how to sit, stand, and sing (or learn to play an instrument) before the Royal Family, the Most Holy Trinity.

The reason I mention Lewis' conviction that purgatorial training of some sort belongs in the Grand Scheme of Things is to suggest that our prayer life--especially if it takes the form in Centering Prayer--may also be a kind of purgatory as Thomas Keating suggests:

Contemplative prayer is a kind of purgatory. Purgatory in Catholic theology is a state in which we complete the journey to divine union in the next life if we have not quite finished it here. Every bit of progress means an enormous benefit for us and for everyone else in the human race. To be on this journey is really the greatest contribution one can make tothe human family. This journey does not just involve what happens in prayer; rather, what happens in prayer enables us to live daily life as a continuation of the purification process. The ups and downs of daily life, including its very everydayness, are the arena in which the Christian journey takes place. God is in solidarity with our lives and deaths, just as they are. Perfection does not consist in feeling perfect or being perfect, but in doing what we are supposed to do without noticing it: loving people without taking any credit. Just doing it. (Intimacy with God (New York: Crossroad Publishing Company, 1996, 63-64.)