Bowels Of Hell, Heights Of Heaven: Preaching Dante Alighieri

Editor's Note: Below is a "Monday Sermon," from our series of sermons at the Patheos Preachers Portal that pastors can enjoy and learn from. It is our hope that this particular series from Daniel Harrell, which preaches through the Church Fathers, will encourage pastors, show them a way of approaching theological education from the pulpit, and refresh their theological memories. See Reverend Harrell's columnist page for more information. From the moment our first contemplative ancestors gazed into the dark abyss of death and trembled, the mystery of what comes next has haunted humankind. "We are born," says priest and sociologist Andrew Greeley, "with two incurable diseases: life, from which we die, and hope, which says maybe death isn't the end." According to most surveys, 60 percent of Americans still believe in hell and 81 percent in heaven—with most believers in heaven also believing they've secured a reservation. For the 60 percent who still believe in hell, as well as the source of motivation for those who don't, I present the late-13th century Italian poet Dante Alighieri and his popular work, La Commedia , which paints the picture of hell that still dominates the collective mind. By the time he wrote The Comedy , Dante, in his early 50s, had already grappled ferociously with Catholic papal authorities and had taken up arms against a rival political group that eventually ran him out of his hometown of Florence. Through all of this, Dante naturally amassed a truckload of enemies and consequently did with them what many have wished to do with their own; namely, he sent them all, even the pope, to hell—literarily speaking, that is. Dante penned what is regarded as the finest poem of the Middle Ages, a summation of classical and medieval beliefs so profound that its critics subsequently labeled it "divine." Of The Divine Comedy poet T.S. Eliot once wrote, "The majority of poems one outgrows and outlives, as one outgrows and outlives the majority of human passions. But Dante's is one of those one can only just hope to grow up to at the end of life." C.S. Lewis concurred, "There is so much besides poetry in Dante that anyone but a fool can enjoy him in some way or another." Dante stated that his purpose for writing The Divine Comedy was to "to remove those living in this life from a state of misery and lead them to a state of felicity." The poem was written in three parts. In Inferno, the Roman philosopher Virgil, representing moral and intellectual virtue, guides Dante through nine concentric circles of hell where they meet various sinners from history, myth, and of course, Dante's black list. Their journey departs from the dark wood of alienation from God (where the beasts of lust, pride, and greed drive people back from ascending the Mountain of the Lord) and ventures through the gates of hell. Virgil sternly impresses upon Dante the dehumanizing nature of sin. Above Dante's hell hangs this menacing notice: " Abandon All Hope, Ye Who Enter Here." These words in dim color I beheld Inscribed on the lintel of an archway. "Master," I said, "this saying's hard for me." And he—as someone who understands—told me: "Here you must give up all irresolution; All cowardice must here be put to death. "We are come to the place I spoke to you about Where you shall see the sorrow-laden people, Those who have lost the Good of the intellect." And with that, putting his own hand on mine, With smiling face, just to encourage me, He led me to things hidden from the world. Here heartsick sighs and groanings and shrill cries Re-echoed through the air devoid of stars, So that, but started, I broke down in tears. Babbling tongues, terrible palaver, Words of grief, inflections of deep anger, Strident and muffled speech, and clapping hands, All made a tumult that whipped round and round Forever in that colorless and timeless air, Like clouds of sand caught up in a whirlwind. And I, my head enwreathed with wayward doubts, Asked, "Master, what is this that I am hearing? Who are these people overwhelmed by pain?" And he told me: "This way of wretchedness Belongs to the unhappy souls of those Who lived without being blamed or applauded. "They are now scrambled with that craven crew Of angels who elected neither rebellion Nor loyalty to God, but kept apart. "Not to mar its beauty, heaven expelled them, Nor will the depths of hell take them in there, Lest the damned have any glory over them." And I: "Master, what is so burdensome To them that they should wail so dismally?" He answered, "Very briefly, I will tell you. "These people have no hope of dying again, And so deformed has their blind life become That they must envy every other fate. "The world will not allow a word about them; Mercy and justice hold them in disdain. Let us not discuss them. Look and pass on." You can hear echoes of Jesus' own words in Revelation: "because you are lukewarm—neither hot nor cold—I am about to spit you out of my mouth." From hell, Dante is led up the mountain of Purgatory. A uniquely Catholic doctrine rejected by Protestants as non-biblical, purgatory derives from the verb to purge and refers to an after-death purging of evil which, while insufficient to condemn you to hell, remains sufficient to keep you out of heaven. As Wheaton College literature professor Rolland Hein writes, Whether one believes that the soul can be purified after death or that Christian maturity is pursued only on earth, the steps of growth that Dante experiences in purgatory are necessary for drawing nearer to God. While climbing Mount Purgatory, Dante learns to desire God and his good above all else, then to see all things in relation to him, and to act accordingly. To achieve this knowledge he must be freed from the Seven Deadly Sins: pride, envy, anger, sloth, greed, gluttony, and lust. These natural tendencies must be replaced with the Christian virtues of humility, [contentment], meekness, zeal, generosity, temperance, and chastity—all components of that holiness without which no one will see God. Dante makes this clear in a Purgatory passage regarding pride: O haughty Christians, wretched and weary, You, diseased in the vision of your minds, Who misplace all your trust in backward steps, Are you not aware that we are worms, Born to form the angelic butterflies Which soar toward the judgment without defense? Why does your mind float proudly far aloft When you are merely like imperfect insects, Just as the larva lacks its final form? Sometimes, in support of roof or ceiling by way of a corbel One sees a figure joining its knees hunched up against the chest, Which, while unreal, gives birth to real distress In someone seeing it: that's how I did see these, When I took good heed, how these souls were stooped. True, some were more pressed down and some were less If they had more or less weight on their backs, Yet even one who suffered most patiently Appeared to say through tears, "I can no more." At the end of Purgatory, Virgil gets replaced by Dante's long-lost love, Beatrice, who represents the illumination of divine revelation. In real life, Dante met Beatrice once when both were children and then only once more nine years later; yet her idealized image inspired him throughout his life as a type of sacred love. Allegorically in The Divine Comedy , Beatrice combines love as both desire and as self-sacrifice. She leads Dante into Paradise , a world centered on God where images of light, dance, and music abound. Dante also receives significant theological instruction, mostly following the thought of Thomas Aquinas , but also with glimpses of Pseudo-Dionysius. He converses with saints who, no matter if they disagreed with one another on earth, are now perfectly united. Rising into the ultimate heights, Dante imagines at the delightful end a momentary vision of the Triune God: So my mind, held in absolute suspense, Was staring fixed, intent, and motionless, And by its staring grew the more inflamed. Within that Light a person is so changed It is impossible to give consent Ever to turn from it to other sights For everything the will has ever sought, Is gathered there and there is every quest Made perfect, which apart from it is flawed... Here powers failed my high imagination: But by now my desire and will were turned, Like a balanced wheel rotated evenly, By the Love that moves the sun and the other stars. Dante was less interested in the question, "What happens when we die?" than the more pressing question, "How should we live in light of eternity?" Choices between good and evil shape human experience of life for time and eternity, and because decisions are shaped by desires, people must learn to desire God and his will. Of course, Dante knew no more details regarding heaven and hell than you or I do. Yet his imagination was stirred as ours can be by Jesus' promise: "Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me. I am going to prepare a place for you and I will come back and take you to be there with me." Scripture displays heaven as a life of glorious transformation wherein people finally realize the epitome of their existence. Heaven is the believer's true home. It is relief from earthly suffering and reunion with loved ones as we loved them. It is the New Jerusalem and Paradise Regained, the communion of Saints and the forgiveness of sin, everlasting Easter and countless Christmases. It is the end to death's sting; a perpetual, ongoing, ever-full, ecstatic experience of relationship with Almighty God. The apostle Paul described it as an "eternal house not made with hands" and even claimed to have gone there himself, albeit sworn to secrecy so that he provided no detailed preview. A vividly symbolic preview does appears in John's Revelation where we read of a double throne of jasper, a sea of crystal framed by a rainbow, winged beasts, saints, and angels all gathered round the throne of God. Revelation gave rise in early Christian communities to increasingly florid portrayals of heaven replete with buildings and streets of precious metals and jewels, palm trees, singing stones, harps, fountains, and ladders. Such splendorous anticipation, if only metaphorical, nonetheless would seem to make heaven imminently preferable. If, however, such anticipation proved unsuccessfully persuasive, there was the undesirable alternative. Jesus himself spoke nearly as much of the infamies of hell as often as he did the glories of heaven. He depicted hell as a place of eternal "weeping and gnashing of teeth" occupied by the damned, be they unrepentant angels or human beings. Jesus employed an unusually harrowing parable to delineate the chasm of difference. The parable of the rich man and Lazarus was directed toward those in Christ's day who in spite of Old Testament prophetic prediction, stubbornly preferred their own way of life to that eternal way Jesus alone offered. Jesus set up the distinction as a remarkably stark choice: Believe in Christ, enjoy heaven. Refuse Christ, suffer hell. The choice is remarkably stark—though not terribly difficult. We're not talking a rock and a hard place here. As humanity's ultimate home, heaven is designed to draw you toward itself. You're created to want it. Discontentment, loneliness, wistfulness, these are all reminders that life on earth is not all there is. Our struggles here are designed to turn our hearts heavenward. That we fail to embrace this is due to a failure of imagination (at least when it comes to imagining heaven—hell we can picture). Too often the best we can do when it comes to envisioning heaven is to envy those we assume have a heavenly life on earth already. But here's where Dante should encourage us. Taking Paul's admonition to "set our minds on things above" to its utmost literalness, Dante found that imagining heaven paid genuine earthly benefits. You not only gain perspective with which to navigate life's limitations and disappointments, but you gain a hope that far surpasses the pale, wishful thinking we usually settle for. However, that's only part of it. Setting our minds on heaven not only gives hope to our hearts, it grants foretastes of hope's actualization. In this world there are signs of the world-to-come: the sick are healed, love is practiced, forgiveness extended, selfishness deterred, conflicts ceased, God is worshipped, the hungry fed, the mournful comforted, prayers are answered, priorities shift. In a most real way, heaven starts the moment you choose it. It shouldn't be a difficult choice to make. "Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things." Paul wrote, "For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God. When Christ, who is your life, appears, then you also will appear with him in glory." Imaging that day for himself, Dante wrote: I saw, above a million burning lamps, A Sun that kindled every one of them As our sun lights the stars we glimpse on high; And through its living light the shining Substance Glowed out so brightly down upon my gaze That my eyes dazzled and could not endure it. O Beatrice, my sweet and cherished guide! You said to me, "What overwhelms you here Is a power for which there is no defense: "In this One is the wisdom and the power That opened up the path from earth to heaven For which the men of old had yearned so long." Just as lightning bursts out from a cloud Because it so expands it has no room left, And crashes to the ground against its nature, Just so my mind, becoming more enlarged At this rich banquet, broke free from itself, And what it was, it cannot remember.

Bowels of Hell, Heights of Heaven: Preaching Dante Alighieri