Joseph: “Well, keep your eyes open. …”

Clarence: “ Where? I…I don’t see a thing.”

Joseph: “Oh, I forgot. You haven’t got your wings yet.

Now look, I’ll help you out.

Concentrate, Clarence.

Begin to see something?”

Clarence: “Why, yes!  This is amazing!…”

AS WE LOOK DOWN FROM OUR CELESTIAL CLOUD TO THE SOUTHERN HEMISPHERE, WE SEE A TERRACED MOUNTAIN AT THE VERY ANTIPODE TO MESOPOTAMIA.

He, Virgil and Statius have arrived in “il Giardino dell’Eden,” in “Paradiso Terrestre” (Earthly Paradise). In awe, they enter the garden.

But wait, adjusting our ‘angel sight,’ we see much more.

The poets are at the conjunction of Heaven and Hell.  Oh, of course, that is Purgatorio.

But, more particularly, they have arrived at the very intersection, the crossing point between Purgatory, and Heaven itself.

What a contradiction of realities, even of words, is this “Earthly Paradise”

– it is the quintessential oxymoron.

Eden has not existed since the dawn of human trespass; and yet, here it is.

The pilgrims have, in fact, arrived at the very convergence of a multiplicity of spheres; indeed, of many different types of spheres.

What do we see?

Now dependent, as we are here, upon the limited scope of ‘human knowledge,’ we see a number of “intersecting Venn diagrams”: and, mostly of dualities.

We see interactions between human knowledge and Divine Knowledge;

between the corporeal and the spiritual;

between Reason and Faith.

In this garden of an eternal fountain, of two rivers, of beauty almost too painful to view, we find Matilda, the ‘Lady of Innocence,’ our Eve before ‘The Fall.’ She is singing and gathering flowers.

We have reached the point of “Farewell and Hail,”

of forgetting and remembering,

of the “Active” and the “Reflective.”

Joseph directs Clarence’s attention to the unfolding drama.

He points out that in the last canto of this story, Dante had had a dream, a Biblically symbolic dream of Leah and Rachel.

Dante had related that dream as follows:

“… in my dream, I seemed to see a woman

both young and fair; along a plain she gathered

flowers, and even as she sang, she said:

Whoever asks my name, know that I’m Leah,

and I apply my lovely hands to fashion

a garland of the flowers I have gathered.” [Canto XXVII, lines 97–102]

In this dream, the young, beautiful Leah gathered flowers for a garland and observed how her sister Rachel could never stop observing her reflection in a mirror.   The observers know from Genesis (29-30; 35) that Leah and Rachel acted out, respectively, examples of the active and contemplative lives.

Here, in earthly paradise, so soon after this dream, Dante beholds Matilda (although she is not named for two more cantos) as the “Lady of Innocence,” as an active presence.

In response to Dante’s questions, Matilda explains the Garden, its creation, its purpose, and it maintenance.

She also explains the two streams that flow through it. The first (where Dante finds her) is the Lethe, which empties the minds of those who drink from it of all cancelled sins.

The second one, the Eunoe, when drunk, enhances recollections of the good that one has accomplished.

Matilda also emphasizes that one must drink of the Lethe before the Eunoe for the spell to work.

Refocusing after some thought, Clarence asks “Why do Statius and Virgil hold back?“

Once again, Joseph points to the multiplicity of intersecting spheres surrounding them.

Virgil can go no further. He has reached the extreme tether of his sphere of existence.  Human wisdom can go no further.

Statius simply smiles.  It is not for him to intervene here.

“And what of this Matilda?   What of the streams?”

“Well, Clarence, remember Leah and Rachel?

“Matilda is Dante’s Leah.  She represents the active life: the life of this world in a perfected state.   Dante first must understand the human paradise that God made for mortal humanity, before he can begin to grasp the eternal paradise that God made for our spiritual selves.“

“And Rachel?”

“That comes soon.”

“The streams?”

“They are essential for humans who would move on, move up, in their quest for the good and for God.

They must purge their sins – forget the bad they have done.

But, they must also remember, cherish, and move forward toward the good.”

“What happens next?”

A bright flash and the arrival of a majestic procession that includes all sorts of symbolic characters startle Dante and his observers.

Voices are singing ‘Hosanna’.

The light comes from seven candles, their pure, steady flames leaving rainbow trails behind them as they lead the entourage.

Using their special sight, Joseph and Clarence view a grand parade including:

– 24 Elders (books of the Old Testament),

– four six-winged angels (the Gospels),

– a two-wheeled chariot (The Church),

– drawn by a griffin (Christ),

– seven dancing nymphs (the virtues),

– then two more elders (Paul and Luke),

– and lesser New Testament writers,

–   –   and finally

– an old man with undimmed eyes (John /Revelations).

This “Mystic Procession” symbolizes the “Church Triumphant.”

It suddenly stops at a crack of thunder, and there arose the song

“Come, spouse to Lebanon”, “(Benedictus gui Venis”).

BEATRICE HAS ARRIVED!

She is to be Dante’s new guide.

It is at this time Dante first notices that Virgil has disappeared.

Virgil’s work escorting Dante is at last done.

Being unable to go any further towards Heaven, he has departed.

But, asks Clarence, “Who is this Beatrice?”

“She is Dante’s Rachel.”

“Did Dante seek her?”

“Oh, indeed, though not constantly and consistently enough.”

Unexpectedly, the chariotress reproves Dante for his rudeness.

When angels in the procession ask Beatrice why Dante is being chastised, she tells them that he had fallen so far in his life, only his seeing Hell had save him.

Even at this point in his long pilgrimage, Dante himself requires repentance before he can enter Heaven.

Looking closely, we see that the Beatrice who appears to Dante in the Chariot is both the real Beatrice he knew, but also is a representative, of “Divine Philosophy.”

Her very name derives from “full beatitude.”

She is a symbol of spiritual love, the only path to true knowledge and understanding.

“Aha, could she then be…”

“Yes, Clarence, she sits with Rachel in Heaven, as the symbol of  ‘the light linking truth to intellect.’

She is …’the source of truth in matters of religion.’ ”

“So Clarence, you see, Dante, and we observers, have reached the structural

‘keystone of the story – the poem,’

This is not just a general convergence of spheres, it is the convergence point in the story’s plot.

This is the “climax” of his Divina Commedia: Dante’s pilgrim has at long last achieved reunion (at least the starting point of it) with Beatrice.

But, there’s still a measure of distance during which Dante (and we)  must realize he (and we) are on our own. “

For Dante still has a long road ahead; ‘his internal suffering of shame will not be done yet’  (thanks John).

Although Dante has found Beatrice, and she  represents “Divine Love” and “Perfect Peace,” he still has much to learn.

–   “As do we all,” says Clarence.

Best Wishes, Dante!  Bob S

"Beatrice with the Holy Grail" by Rossetti

GLUTTONS ARE US !

“Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness: for they shall be filled.”  (Matthew 5. 6)

Both must be fed regularly

.

BUT !!

Of course,  in canto 24, on the Terrace of the Gluttons, we are faced with the theme of misguided  love once more.

Dante is reminded of this over & over  again.

GLUTTONY   

“Dante’s Theory of Everything”: Dante’s view of what’s wrong with the world and how to fix it.

“Christians are not perfect,  just forgiven.”

The Beatitudes

The Beatitudes play an integral part in explaining these

wrongs, the many aspects of the seven deadly sins.

They are our sickness; the Beatitudes are its cure.

As Dante moves upward, the Angel of   Temperance,  removes his 5^th P,

while singing a new version of the Fourth Beatitude:

“Beati qui esuriunt et sitiunt iustitiam ”  –

“Blessed are they whom grace

Enlightens so, the love of taste enkindles

No overindulgent longings in their breasts,

“Hungering always only after justice!”

But, THE DANCE GOES ON, and on, and on

“I am here to speak for all generations to come. I am here to speak on behalf of starving children around the world whose cries go unheard. …

Even when we have more than enough, we are afraid to share. We are afraid to let go of some of our wealth. Two days ago here in Brazil, we were shocked when we spent some time with children living in the streets. This is what one child told us:

‘I wish I was rich. And if I were, I would give all the street children food, clothes, medicine, shelter, love and affection.’

If child on the streets who has nothing is willing to share – why are we, who have everything, still so greedy?

How much has been changed since Severn spoke that day?

As Gandhi said many years ago, ‘We must become the change we want to see.’ I know change is possible.”

–Address to the Plenary Session, Earth Summit, Rio Centro, Brazil 1992″ by Severn Suzuki, age 12.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

As we encounter Dante in the Nineteenth Canto, he is still on the Terrace of the Slothful – the Terrace of Apathy.

Dali - Dante's Dream, Canto XIX

Falling into the Siren’s dream, Dante finds he is unable to escape on his own. He needs the help of Reason (Virgil) to unmask the Siren, and to help him awaken.  He also needs Divine inspiration (Beatrice) to communicate hope to him.

Dante soon comes to realize that the evil desires inspired by the Siren, the sins of the flesh and the excessive love of material things, are the basis for the purging that will take place on the final three terraces.

As Dante and Virgil arise to a full day’s sun, the Angel of Zeal guides them to the cleft leading to the next level.   As the angel invites them to ascend, he fans them with his wings, and pronounces the beatitude, “Benedicti qui lugent” (Blessed are they that mourn) upon Dante.

In so doing he relieves Dante of another “P” from his forehead.

As Dante continues to contemplate all the evil the Siren has caused and can cause, Virgil urges him forward,

“Let it teach your heels to scorn the earth, your eyes

to turn to the high lure the Eternal King

spins with his mighty spheres across the skies”  (61-63)

They have arrived at the Terrace of Avarice and Prodigality, where those possessed of the opposite extremes of proprietary incontinence do penance.

“My soul cleaves to the dust,” I heard them cry

over and over as we stood among them;

and every word was swallowed by a sigh.”   (73-75)

For, indeed, the pair discover this next group of repentant souls are lying face down n the dirt, weeping and reciting the psalm, “Adhesit pavimento anima mea ” (“My soul clings to the dust; Revive me according to Your word,” Psalm 119:25-32).

It is a totally fitting penance for those who had always looked toward earthly objects for fulfillment. So too, must Dante trample upon earthly enticements and turn his eyes toward Heaven.

The first of these they encounter is the recently deceased Pope (“Successor of Peter”), Adrian V (d.1276), whose few worthy weeks in office were poor compensation for his years of avarice.  Adrian explains that because he had so loved earthly goods, rather than heeding God’s call, he and the other greedy souls about him were groveling face down in the dirt as penance.

And what does all this say to us, today?

Well, is there a Madison Avenue?  Are we a consumer society? Does conspicuous consumption run riot? Are we ‘born to shop?’

Indeed, Avarice is a sin that our culture not only encourages, but one which demands commitment.

Countless messages scream at us each day:

Get more! Buy more! Have more!

And where does this lead us?

Not only to waste, spoilage, and,  worse, to “False Gods.”

It leads us to solitude, loneliness and despair.

I feel the old Simon and Garfunkle song [“The Sound of Silence”] of 1964 is as sadly true now as it was then:  “Hello, Darkness my old Friend”…

And in the naked light I saw

Ten thousand people, maybe more

People talking without speaking

People hearing without listening

People writing songs that voices never share

And no one dared

Disturb the sound of silence

“Fools”, said I, “You do not know

Silence like a cancer grows

Hear my words that I might teach you

Take my arms that I might reach you”

But my words, like silent raindrops fell

And echoed

In the wells of silence

And the people bowed and prayed

To the neon god they made

And the sign flashed out its warning

In the words that it was forming

And the sign said, “The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls

And tenement halls”

And whispered in the sounds of silence

Allan Kaprow, "5 minutes de retard," 1993

As an anonymous blogger recently wrote:  The Sound of Silence is the contented quiet of the devil, upon receipt of all his souls.

Materialism alienates us from other people, and, especially from God.

What do I fear more than “The Sound of Silence?”

Hell isn’t brimstone; it isn’t People;

It IS the absence of God.

The absence, the silence that screams at me

– The Emptiness, the Agony,

– The very VOID itself awaits!

Adhesit pavimento anima mea.

Kyrie Eleison!!

“There is hardly any activity, any enterprise, which is started out with such tremendous hopes and expectations, and yet which fails so regularly, as love.“ 
- Erich Fromm

As we already know, “Commedia” recounts the spiritual journey of Dante Alighieri’s alter ego, a pilgrim, through three regions of the afterlife: Hell, Purgatory, and Paradise. His goal was to reach spiritual maturity and a fuller understanding of God’s love.

In his central canticle, Purgatorio, Dante shows what happens when one finally turns away from the different vices.  We know that Dante’s “Purgatory” was his own construction; it was not as his own church depicted it.  Official doctrine, as it pertained to repentant sinners, provided for a realm of fiery torment, closer in most respects to his Inferno than to his Purgatorio.

On Dante’s terraced mountain, each level was designed to purge a specific mortal (remade venial by repentance) sin.  The purging was done sin by sin, to cleanse the soul of all its various vices, thereby freeing it to advance.

Love is central to the entire process.

Love is the ONLY salvation: saving Grace.

Man embraces Love, but often perverts it, misuses it, misunderstands it.

Here on the fourth terrace of Purgatory, that of “Slothful Love,” we discover a rather strange twist to the apparent scheme of things.

“The soul, being created prone to Love,

is drawn at once to all that pleases it,

as soon as pleasure summons it to move.

From that which really is, your apprehension

extracts a form which unfolds within you;

that form thereby attracts the mind’s attention,

Then if the mind, so drawn, is drawn to it,

that summoning force is Love; and thus within you,

through pleasure, a new natural bond is knit”

– Purg, XVIII Ciardi, 16-270

Love: embraced,             refused,             abused,             twisted,             ignored

is the driving force of the entire “Commedia,” Love, acting through “Free Will,” is the source both, of all human good, and all human evil (Purg XVII: 103-105).

It is the prime mover throughout the canticle, and especially within the eighteenth canto.

As the canto opens, we are on the fourth terrace.

It is a terrace that we definitely would recognize in our present, post-modern, jaded age.  This is the “Terrace of the Repentant Indolent.”

The sin here is SLOTH, which Dante defines as a total lack of sufficient love.

Venial sloth is not simple “laziness,” but rather something very close to an omnipresent “sin” of our own day, BOREDOM.!!!

Boredom

Even those who love only themselves, at least

love something.  But, the slothful do not even

love themselves.  They readily sink into self-

destructive inactivity.   Nor do these laggards

love anything or anyone outside themselves.

The tepid are bored with the world.

To Dante, Sloth is the counterpoint vice to the virtue of decisiveness and zeal, and especially zealous love.

To turn toward a thing, to move toward it, to desire it, is Love

(Purg. XVIII: 26),

while to simply fail to try to do anything is Sloth.

The Slothful Souls run about the mountain senselessly, reciting tales of success (Mary; Caesar) and failures (including the Israelites in the desert and Aeneas’ followers in Sicily) in the past. Where previously, on the lower terraces, we had seen distorted love, love of the wrong object, in this case the very presence of Love is simply too weak.

We know by now that, for Dante, one’s relationship to Love is the source of all good and evil. He views each of the seven (deadly and venial) sins is a result of some problem with Love.

We should note his list of seven virtues varies from other traditional lists:

He combines the four cardinal virtues of the classical pagan world — Wisdom, Temperance, Fortitude, and Justice, with the three New Testament virtues of Faith, Hope, and Love.  He holds that Christians overcome their tendency toward each of these sins by learning to ‘love correctly.’

One of the problems in any translation is achieving precise meaning.  A major problem for an English translation is that the word love can refer to such a wide variety of feelings, states and attitudes.  It can run the gamut from passionate desire, to intimacy, to romantic love, to erotic love, to familial love, to the platonic love of friendship, to devotional religious love.

To Dante,  “God is love” (e.g. Agape, as found in the canonical gospels), a concept central to many western religions.   Christian Love is, in fact, one aspect of, and conduit to, God Himself.  But, further, Dante constantly uses the word Amore (Romantic Love) and his beloved Beatrice, as representatives of “The Divine.”  He seems to meld the concepts.  His “Love” is similar to that of his beloved Provencal troubadours, and sometimes still is found in Western culture of the present day.

I venture so far as to wonder whether or not Dante would have a problem with Paul Stokey’s “The Wedding Song:”

He is now to be among you at the calling of your hearts.

Rest assured this troubadour is acting on His part.

The union of your spirits here has caused Him to remain

for whenever two or more of you are gathered in His name

there is love. Oh, there is love.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

“There can be no real freedom without the freedom to fail.”

– Erich Fromm

– Erich Fromm

On the Third Terrace, Dante learned that man was born with both knowledge of good and evil, and a “free wanting” (Purg. XVI: 76).

Therein lies both the road to damnation and salvation.

If Earth’s evils had their source in Heaven, then:

“Free Will would be

destroyed, and there would be no justice

in giving bliss for virtue, pain for evil”

– (Purg XVI: 70-72)

Because,  “Love, acting through free will, is the source both of all human good and all human evil . (Purg XVII: 103-105).

The cause of evil on Earth, therefore, comes not from Heaven, but from man.  The very concept of “Free Will,” the ability to choose to sin or not to sin, was central to medieval Catholicism.

Virtue becomes a matter of self-control.

Love takes hostages

And gives them pain

Gives someone the power

To hurt you again and again

Oh, but they don’t care

“Love is Hard,”

– James Morrison

Architecture of Purgatory from La Comedia Divina de Dante Aligheri, "Il Purgatorio"

The sins caused by ‘perverted love’ set the scene for the first three terraces of Purgatory.  As the Twelfth Canto opens, we find Dante contemplating the yoked sinners about him.

These are the sins of “love’s harm” done to others. As Jake has noted in his penetrating exploration of Canto XI, the first of these sins (in order and significance) is Pride.   On this terrace, where proud souls are purged of their sins, Dante and Virgil see beautiful sculptures. These carvings present the cardinal virtue of humility, pride’s natural opponent.    Humility can be seen as ‘not thinking less of yourself, but rather, as thinking of yourself less. It is a spirit of self-examination.

Jake pointed out that “the prideful must give back what they never had in the first place, and prayer is the vehicle for returning stolen goods.” And, to do this, they first must realize that they never had them.  Tis ‘a bit of a Conundrum for the children of Eve, to say the least.

As Dante proceeds, he continues to note so many souls, all condemned by their own excessive, defiant pride – their hubris. He lists them all, from the great fallen angel, Lucifer, himself, to the magnificent wreckage of the city of Troy (‘sad, proud Ilium‘).    And, among those he noted was Nimrod and the ruins of his great tower.

Nimrod's Tower by Breugel The Elder

[Compare to images of Purgatory itself, above]

“I saw Nimrod in Shinar overseeing the proud builder

at the foot of his great tower.”

Dante is among the first to connect Nimrod and the Tower of Babel.

A product of his time, Dante viewed pride as inseparable from the human condition; from being virtually synonymous with the original transgression – the disobedience of Adam and Eve.   Dante is familiar with Aquinas’ great “Summa Theologiae”: “The mark of human sin is that it flows from pride.” (3a.1.5) Everything ill flows from pride.

Now Pride is normally considered a cardinal (mortal) sin, and we found it well represented among the damned of the “Inferno.”  So, why are these “overly proud souls “ here in Purgatory?  Shouldn’t they be in hell?  Ah, but these “proud souls” have repented sufficiently to have been given a second chance to save their souls.  And, hence, they carry their burdens up, around the spiral ramps of Purgatory.

Dante made progress, as well.  He ascended to the second cornice much faster than he had to the first. Why is this?   Virgil points out that the “Angel of Humility” has removed one of the peccatum from his forehead.   The angel had brushed Dante’s forehead with his wings, erasing one letter “P” (peccatum), the one representing pride.  It seems that its weight had been an extremely heavy one.

Humility's Angel (Blake)

And, the angel wondered:

Why do people so seldom respond to this invitation?

You are born to fly, so why fall down in a little wind?”

It is then that Dante notes the glorious sound of the singing of “Beati pauperes spiritu” (“Blessed are the poor in spirit,” –  Matthew 5:3.)

“We set out on the climb, and on the way

‘Beati paupers spiritu’ rang out,

more sweetly sung than any words could say. (109-111)

Dante is hearing a Beatitude being sung.

While The Ten Commandments dealt with human actions,” The Beatitudes” deal with attitudes that can lead to actions.

In essence, “Christian Law” is summarized in The Beatitudes, in Christ ‘s command to love God, and one’s neighbor as oneself  (see Matthew 5:3 – 12; Luke 6: 20-26).  Therefore, Dante is hearing Divine Law being sung – and, it is praising humility and the desperate.

In Matthew, the first and most important Beatitude is:

“Blessed are the poor in spirit:

for theirs is the kingdom of heaven”

And, so, in his awe, Dante’s spirit rose,

and he moved ahead and upward, lighter afoot,

with rather undeserved assistance.

“And if it is lawful to ask, O Jove on high,

you who were crucified on earth for us,

are your righteous eyes turned elsewhere,

or, in your abyss of contemplation,

are you preparing some mysterious good,

beyond our comprehension? ”  (VI, 118-126)

Salvador Dali: Purgatorio, Canto VI: "Men Who Died Violent Deaths"

In this canto, Dante deals with many issues.

The sixth canto, “Ante-Purgatory: Those who Died by Violence,” opens with Dante’s speculation about the crowding shades all about him, pushing, shoving, imploring. Why do these souls bother him so, to pray for them?

He dwells on how people gamble so foolishly with their lives, when only the winner seems to profit from it.

He then questions Virgil about the power of prayer for others.  He wonders why the poet now states prayer for others is effective (lines 25 – 28), when, in the “Aeneid,” Virgil had written: ”prayer may not alter Heaven’s fixed decree.” It would seem the poet clearly stated prayer has no effect on Heaven.  Virgil prevaricates a bit, but notes that he wrote the epic before he knew the Christian era.  The question here arises, how can Justice be served, when prayers of others are credited to the soul of one who has passed beyond the test of life?

But, then, in the final section of the canto, Dante moves into an extended rant and lament.  Justice is certainly a central question here.   Dante feels his ‘beloved Italy’ has been betrayed.  Betrayed “by Caesar” [Holy Roman Emperor Albert], and, even by God.

Dante was a supporter of a united Italy, under rule of the Holy Roman Emperor.

So, he asks: “My Caesar, why do you not keep me company?”  [Cesare mio, perchè non m’accompagni?].

In doing so, he echoes Christ calling in despair from the cross:

“My God, why have you abandoned me?” (Matt. 27:46)

And then, Dante launches into a full diatribe:

“O German Albert, who abandon her

now that she is untamed and wild,

… In that far land, both you and your father,

dragged along by greed, allowed

the garden of the empire to be laid waste.

… Come, cruel one, come and see the tribulation

your nobles suffer and consider their distress.

… Come and see your Rome and how she weeps,

widowed and bereft, and cries out day and night:

My Caesar, why are you not with me?’

Come and see your people, how they love

one another, and, if no pity for us moves you,

come for shame of your repute.” (VI, 97 – 117)

But, Dante ventures further.  The Emperor alone is not to blame.  Dante dares to question whether or not God is any longer paying attention to His “Roman” Christians.  Has Christ, perhaps, like The Father before Him (in the case of Jerusalem: The Babylonian Captivity), turned away from His people?  {see opening verses, above)

“For each Italian city overflows with tyrants

and every clown that plays the partisan

thinks he is the new Marcellus .“ (VI, 118 – 126)

In fact, Dante’s lament reminds one of those found in the Book of Lamentations (the only Book in the Bible that consists entirely, and solely, of laments).

“Lamentations”   bemoans the horrors of the Babylonian seizure of Judah and the destruction of Jerusalem. This Book’s recital of the tragedies is an intricately woven fabric of “poetic wrestling” with “the ways of God,” as well as a description of His method of dealing with wayward people.  Dante sees many parallels between Judah’s fate and conditions of his beloved Italy.

“How deserted lies the city, once so full of people!

How like a widow is she, who once was great among the nations!

She who was queen among the provinces has now become a slave.

Bitterly she weeps at night, tears are upon her cheeks.

Among all her lovers there is none to comfort her.

All her friends have betrayed her; they have become her enemies.

After affliction and harsh labor, Judah has gone into exile.

She dwells among the nations; she finds no resting place.

All who pursue her have overtaken her in the midst of her distress.”

[Lamentations 1, 1-3]

What have the Italian Christians done to be treated so?

One suspects that Dante is treading a very fine line here – he is approaching blasphemy.    These passages show how, at the nadir of his political despair [similar in some ways to that of Machiavelli some two centuries later), Dante questions even God.

He KNOWS that Italy has been abandoned by its Caesar [Albert /

Henry VII].

But, why also by Divine Providence?

Indeed?

Is there a message here for our time and place?