Most folks have at least heard of Dante’s fictional descent into the bowels of hell. Accompanied by ancient Roman poet, Virgil, the fourteenth century Italian poet travels circle by concentric circle toward Satan himself, witnessing along the way a vast host of punishments meted out, in many cases, to the political and social elites of Dante’s time. It is a colorful and harrowing allegory that continues to entertain and edify scores of readers. When I taught this years ago, it occurred to me and my students that Satan could have very well been with Dante from the beginning – that it was an impure curiosity that prompted Dante to begin the descent at all. How did we reach this conclusion? We found the climax of the story to be, well, anticlimactic. Satan, a large, imposing, and frosty figure gnaws on history’s most infamous traitors, Judas Iscariot among them. Naturally, the scene is rife with symbolic meaning, but this is not what captured our collective attention. We were intrigued by the possibility that Satan had made an early appearance, prompting Dante to look at the increasingly violent torments of the damned just as he was trying to look away. He was giving in to his desire to gaze upon such creative and eternal torture. He was revealing something about himself, something about human nature. We all want to see; even when we know it is not good for us, our eyes linger a bit too long.
It is a sobering revelation. But it is one that must be grappled with if we are to truly understand our proclivities so that we can master them.
I do not mean to be unrealistic. We are all fallen and are prone to listen to voices that are not God’s. However, in understanding this facet of who we are, we stand to gain an edge, through the Holy Spirit, over that which wants to destroy us. To be sure, The Inferno, which is one part of a three-part collection called The Divine Comedy, seems to attract the most attention, which, I think, speaks volumes about the readers. Why are folks most interested in this particular segment? Indeed, why are we attracted now to content we know is not good for us? I could provide a list of examples, but I would wager that this is unnecessary. You already know. It is a chore for you to unfix your gaze just as it was a chore for Dante to do the same.
What is the lesson then? In Dante, we see ourselves, a sinner in need of salvation, a transgressor in need of hope.
It is there. It can be found. Even as we stumble along on our own journeys, probing in the dark, lingering a little too long, just as in The Divine Comedy, purgatory follows and paradise after that.
