Per Caritatem

For Dante the ultimate meaning of human history can be understood in terms of salvation history.  That is, Dante believes strongly in God’s providential guidance over human history; yet, within God’s providence there is a place for human freedom and deliberation.  God creates humans in his image, which entails the gift of freedom, and this freedom is to be used in the service of God. In the Divine Comedy, Dante tells of how he strayed from his own vocational calling (to be a Christian epic poet) and how, by God’s grace working through figures like Beatrice, he was able to fulfill his calling.

Dante understands the entire created order as sacramental in nature.   In other words, beauty, art, images, and the physical all have value in Dante’s worldview.  We see this in Dante’s relationship with Beatrice.  Beatrice was a particular, historical person, whom Dante at a young age came to admire and even love.  Apparently, Beatrice was a virtuous woman who was trying to lead Dante to higher things, the most important of which is the Christian God.  From some of his other writings (Convivio), Dante seems to have been “led astray” by false schools of philosophy or by using philosophy wrongly.  That is, Dante, instead of using philosophy as a handmaiden to revelation, exalted philosophy to the detriment of revelation.   As a result, Dante finds himself lost and in need of guidance.

In the Divine Comedy, Dante (the character) has to journey through hell and purgatory and after the purgation process, finally makes his way to paradise and ultimately experiences the beatific vision.  Vergil serves as Dante’s guide through hell and purgatory.  This seems to suggest that natural reason can only take one so far (even though one wonders how Vergil has knowledge of Purgatory).  This is not to devalue natural reason, as by the proper use of natural reason one can become virtuous.  Dante is thoroughly familiar with the Greek tradition of virtue as acquired by practice via the use of practical reason and which then becomes a habit that produces stable character.  Humans, in a way unlike any other animals, have reason and are able to deliberate and choose the good in various circumstances.   Dante readily acknowledges by his choice of Vergil as his guide and by the appearance of various unexpected characters in Purgatory (e.g., Cato—an expression not only of political freedom but also of moral freedom).

With his depiction of purgatory, Dante brings together the Greek tradition of virtue acquisition with the Christian tradition which stresses our need for the theological virtues of faith, hope and love.  The theological virtues do not destroy the natural virtues; rather, they crown and complete them.  Dante also affirms the goodness of creation, art and beauty by his positive portrayal of the use of images and the sensory in Purgatory (e.g., singing, liturgical acts etc.).  Vergil’s role, however, is limited and after Dante has gained mastery over himself, Vergil hands the torch to Beatrice.  Under Beatrice’s guidance, Dante is taught a number of theological truths and undergoes a painful time of confession.  One can interpret this confession as Dante’s admission that he had been seduced by Lady Philosophy and has now seen the errors of his ways.

Beatrice plays a special role as a universal-particular.  That is, Beatrice was a concrete, historical person—Dante, after all, tells us that she did in fact die and that he knew her as a young boy.  Yet, in the pageant scene, she appears in the vision as an image of the integrity of the Church (as she chases off the “heretics” presented as foxes etc.)  Though Beatrice is Dante’s guide and is his superior with regard to theological knowledge, she is clear that Dante is not to worship her.  When Dante at times stares too fixedly at her, she immediately exhorts him to turn his attention to Christ.  (This is in keeping with Dante’s need to fulfill his calling.  The fact that he turned away from Christ and made philosophy an idol is the reason for his wandering in the first place).

Dante’s final guide is St. Bernard, a mystic and a poet.  With the choice of St. Bernard, Dante gives a literary picture of the traditional Catholic teaching of grace completing nature and the compatibility of reason and revelation.  That is, revelation, though supra-rational, is not irrational.  The Incarnation, as Dante makes  clear at the end of the poem, ultimately cannot be fully articulated by finite, human language.  St. Bernard, as a mystic points us to the mystery of the Trinitarian God whose Love opens the way for union with him.  With the completion of his Divine Comedy, Dante has fulfilled his life’s calling and thus has participated in the ultimate meaning of human history—to glorify God.

Now that I am finally finished with my essays and exams for this semester, I wanted to re-visit a post from October and address a comment that I simply did not have time to engage during the semester.  The original post can be found here, and the comment was given by Janet who points to Dante’s teaching on common grace.   The comment is fairly long but well worth the read, and now having read the entirety of the Divine Comedy, I think that Janet’s remarks are both insightful and on the mark.  Here I simply want to add that I agree with the idea of common grace given to unbelievers, though I did not elaborate my view in the post.  In fact, I tend toward the Reformed tradition’s understanding of this doctrine as presented by Calvin in his Institutes of the Christian Religion.  Commenting on the grace given to unbelieving philosophers, scientists and other thinkers, Calvin writes: 

let that admirable light of truth shining in them teach us that the mind of man, though fallen and perverted from its wholeness, is nevertheless clothed and ornamented with God’s excellent gifts.  If we regard the Spirit of God as the sole fountain of truth, we shall neither reject the truth itself, nor despise it wherever it shall appear, unless we wish to dishonor the Spirit of God.

Shall we say that the philosophers were blind in their fine observation and artful description of nature?  [...]  Shall we say that they are insane who developed medicine, devoting their labor to our benefit?  What shall we say of all the mathematical sciences?  Shall we consider them the ravings of madmen?  No, we cannot read the writings of the ancients on these subjects without great admiration. We marvel at them because we are compelled to recognize how preeminent they are.  But shall we count anything praiseworthy or noble without recognizing at the same time that it comes from God?  [...] Let us, accordingly, learn by their example how many gifts the Lord left to human nature even after it was despoiled of its true good (Institutes II.ii.15; emphases added).

Calvin’s view, contrary to common caricatures, is similar to St. Thomas’ on this point, viz., that Truth is One and should not be rejected or despised “wherever it shall appear, unless we wish to dishonor the Spirit of God.”  In addition, as the passage above makes clear, Calvin’s doctrine of sin and the fall does not in any way negate or discount the good gifts that God has given to those who are not in Christ-good gifts that are both laudable and worthy of our admiration and exploration.   

 

As we continue to journey with Dante, we read in Purgatorio, Canto IX of Dante’s dream in which an eagle descends, picks Dante up, and then the two mysteriously become one in an image involving fire.  As we read further, Virgil informs us that Dante’s dream actually reflects allegorically what happened while Dante was asleep. That is, St. Lucia, who appeared to Dante in the opening scenes of the Inferno, came to Dante’s aid so that he might continue his journey successfully.  Here St. Lucia appears to point to the sinner’s need for grace and to the fact that God in his mercy provides such grace to those who desire to follow his path.  Again we are faced with seemingly insoluble mysteries, viz., how can one repent or even prepare oneself for God’s grace when via natural reason alone one cannot reach the knowledge of the Christian God?  As St. Augustine phrases this (a version of this) dilemma, how can one love what one does not already know?  On the one hand, even the preparation for God’s grace seems to necessitate God’s prior acting on the soul; yet, on the other hand, Scripture is replete with examples and exhortations that suggest that individuals must freely choose God and live virtuously-all of which highlights the importance of human responsibility.[1]  In other words, Scripture presents God’s sovereignty and election side by side with human freedom and responsibility and does not attempt to resolve this dissonance (cf. Acts 2:22-23).  Perhaps Dante in allowing these tensions to stand is simply echoing Scripture and in an indirect way acknowledging that God’s way of doing things infinitely exceeds our ability to fully comprehend.  Thus, faith requires worship rather than a demand that God’s will bow down to the law of non-contradiction (see Romans 11:33-36).

In the passages and examples that we have examined thus far, the complexity of the relationship between faith and reason, as well as the perplexing role of Virgil as Dante’s spiritual guide is evident.  In closing, I want to mention one final confusing issue related to the character of Virgil that leaves me with more questions than answers.  As Dante the author presents Virgil in the Inferno and the Purgatorio, he is one without hope whose destiny is forever one of exile in Limbo.  Yet, throughout the Inferno and Purgatorio, Virgil continuously serves as a source of hope and strength for Dante the character.  Moreover, if we accept the idea that Virgil’s fate is sealed and that his eternal home is Limbo, then we have no reason to think that Virgil gains any spiritual reward for his actions in helping Dante.  In other words, Virgil seems to be acting simply for the sake of the bonum in se, not for the bonum sibi (the good for his own advantage).  This leaves the Christian with a great difficulty, viz., how is it that a pagan is able to act in a completely unselfish way apart from God’s grace?  As Allan puts it,

To expect to enjoy as directly as, and added to, one’s own-and therefore to hope or pray or work or suffer for-the supreme happiness of another:  this is the essential Christian act as presented in the Comedy.  Virgil’s suffering for the salvation of Dante is, if you wish, higher in one respect-in being disinterested-than any other such human act in the poem.[2]

I tend to believe that Christian theology has a satisfactory answer to this question; however, I am not at this time convinced that Dante’s Divine Comedy (i.e., what I have read of the Divine Comedy up to this point) presents adequately such an answer. 

Notes

---

[1] Charles Williams engages this conversation from a slightly different angle, yet his point is well-taken and brings the tension of our postlapsarian condition to the fore-particularly the tension of our own ability to properly think about our postlapsarian condition.  “[T]here is in us, since the Fall, a kind of necessity of sin, and repentance is by no means so necessary.  The unfairness of existence is precisely in this-unless indeed we shared in the Fall and were ourselves personally responsible for the first sin.  Even Christ’s own mysterious submission to injustice on our behalf does not seem quite to do away with the injustice; we did not ask to be tempted; we do not want, in that sense, to sin.  He wishes us to be tempted?  very well, but then do not let him blame us.  Any yet in the first vision of the glory we were, perhaps, reconciled, and not as guiltless but as guilty; then indeed, for a moment, we lived from another root.  Romantic Love at once sensitively exposes our guilt, and makes it both tolerable and intolerable.  The passage of Purgatory is a passage to justice; in sin the universe is always unfair” (The Figure of Beatrice, pp. 147-148).[2] Allan, “Does Dante Hope for Virgil’s Salvation?,” p. 196. 

 

Next we come to an interesting scene in Purgatorio, Canto V.  Here a group of late-repentant shades approach Dante and are amazed by his ability to cast a shadow.  As is the case with most of the shades in Purgatory, this particular group pleads with Dante to send word to their friends and relatives in the world above with the hope that those living loved ones will pray for them.  As these last minute repentants tell their story, they explain that they all died violent deaths and sinned until the final hour.  However, they go on to say, “then light from Heaven granted understanding, so that, repenting and forgiving, we came forth from life at peace with God, and He instilled in us the longing to see Him” (Canto V.53-57; emphases added).  In this account, it seems that the limitation of natural reason is being accented, as the ability to repent, which is described as an act of the understanding, is impossible apart from divine illumination.  Likewise, the very longing to see the Christian God (the beatific vision) is itself a gift of God that must be instilled by God into the person.  Though it is the case that ancient philosophers spoke of a desire to “see” the divine and be in union with the divine, the fact that Virgil ends up in Limbo seems to suggest that such philosophers were not longing for nor did their arguments properly lead to the Christian God. 

In Canto VI of Purgatorio, we have another interesting exchange between Dante the character and Virgil.  Here Dante asks whether the prayers of the people in Purgatory are without hope. That is, given that Virgil himself wrote that prayers are ineffective once divine justice has so to speak settled the issue, Dante wonders as to the efficacy of the prayers of these souls in Purgatory-are they simply engaging in a futile activity?  Virgil’s answer is rather perplexing.  He claims that when he had formerly written on the ineffectiveness of prayer, he was speaking of those who prayed “without a passageway to God” (VI.24).  Virgil, a few lines earlier, had stated that “the peak of justice is not lowered when the fire of love accomplished in one instant the expiation owed by all who dwell here” (VI.37-40).  I understand Virgil to be speaking of Christ’s propitiatory sacrifice on the Cross on behalf of those who are in fact guilty-as 1 Peter 3:18 says, “Christ also suffered once for sins, the righteous for the unrighteous, that he might bring us to God.”  In other words, Virgil seems to be claiming that what he meant at the time of his original writing applies only to those who attempted to reach God via their prayers apart from Christ!  Here one would want to ask (1) how Virgil, who lived prior to the Christian era, would have had such knowledge and (2) if he did in fact come to this knowledge, why he himself didn’t act on such knowledge?  One should also note that after giving his explanation to Dante, Virgil quickly defers to Beatrice and urges Dante not to be content with Virgil as the final word with regard to a “quandary so deep” but to “wait for the word that she [Beatrice], the light between your mind and truth, will speak” (VI.43-46).  Here Beatrice seems to serve as an image of divine revelation, yet one wonders why divine revelation would be between Dante’s mind and the truth instead of being described as the Truth itself which is “above” or surpasses Dante’s mind?  When one couples Virgil’s mysterious answer above with what seems to be a purposed attempt on Dante the author’s part to evoke pity in the reader for Virgil given that he is barred from Heaven “for no other fault than [his] lack of faith” (VII.7-8), one cannot help but wonder what Dante the author is up to?[1]  After all in the Inferno, part of what Dante the character had to learn from Virgil himself was that sin is not to be pitied.  Unbelief (with reference to Christ) is of course in the Christian tradition considered sin, so why does Dante the author continue to wrestle with Virgil’s condemnation?  Perhaps one might suggest that though Scripture clearly condemns unbelief as a sin, the examples that are typically given in Scripture itself are of those who were confronted with Christ or the proclamation of the Gospel and yet refused to believe.  In the case of Virgil, however, he was simply by God’s providence born at the wrong time and had no opportunity to hear the Gospel.  Here one might postulate that Dante’s theology is being pressed to its limits and that he himself has not found a satisfying way to explain the justness of condemning such a virtuous pagan given that Virgil had no choice as to when he would be born (viz., in a pre-Christian age). 

Notes

---

[1] For an interesting alternative view that argues against the commonly held position on Virgil’s damnation, see Mowbray Allan’s article, “Does Dante Hope for Virgil’s Salvation?,” MLN Vol. 104, No. 1, Italian Issue (Jan. 1989):  pp. 193-205.