For the last few weeks, I have been traveling through Hell and Purgatory. The last time I read The Divine Comedy was in high school, and I can say with certainty that many things went clear over my head back then. This time around, I can see how Dante’s poem grapples with monumental themes of virtue, vice, salvation, hope, despair, beauty, God’s will in relation to the human heart... The list goes on. Every Canto is simply bursting with opportunities for discussion.
One of the things that has shocked me most on this journey is seeing who Dante places in Hell and Limbo. We meet popes and aristocrats (perhaps we are not so surprised at this), murdered lovers, and Dante’s guide Virgil. We also see the lovers of wisdom, the ancient philosophers, Aristotle and Plato.
When I first learned that Dante placed these two philosophers in Hell (well, Limbo to be precise), I was surprised and a bit unsettled. The Aristotelian in me was rankled. “Wait a minute,” I thought. “Isn’t wisdom a virtue?” Why does Dante exclude these two from Heaven, especially when Christians have informally dubbed Aristotle as “saint Aristotle,” for the reason that he seemingly came as close as one could to attaining Christian virtue in a pagan world?
The Sin of Wisdom
In Canto III of Purgatorio, during a brief treatise on reason, Dante gives us insight into his decision through the words of Virgil.
Be satisfied with ‘So it is,’ O Man,
for if you could have known the whole design,
Mary would not have had to bear a son;
And you’ve seen men desire in vain before,
whose intellects might well have calmed the yearning
that now is made their sorrow evermore:
I speak of Aristotle and of Plato
and many others
Virgil speaks these words in response to Dante’s question of why Virgil casts no shadow on the ground, although he walks next to him in bodily form. Virgil’s broad answer to Dante’s question reveals that perhaps Dante is not only wondering about the technicalities of how shadows work in Purgatory. Dante might be asking a deeper question about why God has dealt with Virgil in the way that he has. Dante struggles to understand, like I did, why the virtuous pagans are not in Heaven. This is a particularly sorrowful question for Dante, who looks up to Virgil as a shining example of piety.
Virgil’s response is beautiful. He insists that God’s judgment is sufficient, and he encourages Dante to submit his reason to God’s will. If God says “It is so,” then that means his decisions are just and good, even if we cannot understand why. If God truly is perfection, truth, goodness, and love, then God cannot judge wrongly. In fact, all of his judgments are acts of love, even if we do not see it.
Accepting this is perhaps the biggest piece of humble pie we will ever have to eat. To acknowledge that God is forever beyond our understanding might make sense intellectually; but when faced with a decree of his that we do not particularly like or understand, it is much harder to accept. Further, it means that as brilliant as we might be, it is still a sin of presumption to require that God stand trial in the court of human wisdom before we believe him.
Dante warns us in this passage about the dangerous side of human wisdom. It’s not that human reason is bad. On the contrary, reason is an incredible gift. It is the highest part of man’s nature, that which makes him most like God. But wasn’t it Uncle Ben who said, “With great power comes great responsibility?” If the human intellect is man’s greatest power, then the sins of the intellect are the most terrible sins. This is why Dante places intellectual sin at the bottom of Hell, in the worst place. The way to avoid this sin is to stay intellectually humble, remembering that our reason does not give us a green light to judge God.
Aristotle and Plato did not have access to Divine Revelation. They had to rely on reason alone. While this was not their fault, it does make them a great symbol for artistic purposes of reason bereft of faith. Aristotle and Plato were not responsible for their faithlessness; but it is very possible for us to be faithless because of an over-emphasis on reason. The fate of the ancient philosophers serves as a warning against what can happen when we rely too much on our own wisdom.
If I forget that the ultimate goal of my life is not simply to “know more,” but instead to behold the God who cannot be understood, then I am wrong. If I forget St. Thomas Aquinas’ conclusion that it is better to love God than to know about him, then I am wrong. If I place my knowledge above my God, then I have made my reason into an idol and desecrated the gift of my intellect.
Dante reminds us that reason can only get us so far. At a certain point, revelation and faith are necessary. I think this is one of the things that Virgil is pointing to here, when he warns Dante against the “fate” of the ancient philosophers.
The Big Question
But let’s get to the burning question. Is Aristotle in Hell? I could explore the theology of this question,1 but I really don’t think that is what Dante intended for us to focus on when he wrote this passage. I don’t think Dante was making a literal claim here about the eternal fate of the ancient philosophers. After all, Dante himself was a devoted Aristotelian, a Thomist, and a devout Catholic. He memorized much of Aristotle’s writings and would have known that Aristotle, despite his lack of access to the Christian faith, was much more serious about God and virtue than most Christians. It is also probable that Dante knew the Catholic Church’s position on those who, through no fault of their own, die without hearing the Gospel message.2
So what is Dante’s point? I believe it is this: Even if Aristotle did end up in Hell, and even if that didn’t make any sense to us, God would still be just. Throughout the entire Comedy, Dante surprises us with who he places in Heaven, Hell, and Purgatory. In doing so, he reminds us that God’s ways are forever beyond our understanding.
Just as Dante cannot understand why Virgil’s body should not cast a shadow, so too he cannot understand why Virgil and the pagan philosophers should have been denied the grace to know and see Christ. But Virgil reminds Dante, and all of us, that God is still good despite our inability to see it sometimes.
The good news is that if God’s ways are forever beyond us, that means his mercy is also forever beyond us. It means his love is greater than we could ever imagine. It is not for us to know all the ways of God, or to judge them before we accept them. It is for us to humble ourselves before his majesty, submitting our reason to the light of faith, a light that is beyond our deepest imaginings.
Now to him who is able to accomplish far more than all we ask or imagine, by the power at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations, forever and ever. Amen.
Ephesians 3:20-21
If you are interested in reading about the Catholic Church’s position on salvation for those who die without being united to the Church, see here.
“In ways known to himself God can lead those who, through no fault of their own, are ignorant of the gospel, to that faith without which it is impossible to please him…” (CCC 848).