I’ve been thinking about Purgatory, at least, with respect to Dante’s ideas of what it might be like. My art history friend claims that, although the Church has always taught that Purgatory exists, Dante was the first to use his poetic imagination to consider exactly how a soul might be purified there. Pictures of his Purgatory stress the seven different levels that Dante and Virgil travel around, and the different ways that he imagines sinners letting go of their sins. And I love the scenes of humility carved into the walls of the first level of serious Purgatory, when Dante and Virgil have passed through gates guarded by an angel, who has been given the charge, by Saint Peter, to open them, when a soul is ready.

We stood within the threshold of that gate
Which the soul’s evil love neglects to use
(For that love {the soul’s evil love} makes the twisted way seem straight),
When with a clash I heard the portal close:

But Dante doesn’t turn to look at the gate closing because he has been warned earlier

“Enter,” [the Angel] said, “but you should be aware,
Those who look back are cast outside once more.”

And this is almost where my meditations begin. Because when Dante and Virgil approach the gate the guardian speaks to them.

I saw a gate — below it, three steps, each
Of a peculiar color, and above,
A guardian who had not yet said a word.
And when my eyes were opened wider still
I saw him seated on a sovereign throne,
Nor could I bear the brilliance of his face,
And in his hand he gripped a sword so bright,
The naked metal flashing back at us,
I failed and failed to hold it in my sight.
“Say it from where you are— what is your will?”
So he began to speak. “Where is your guide?
Watch, lest it bring you pain to climb the hill.”

Pain? The hill here is not — exactly — the entire mountain of Purgatory, but the slope that the travelers are climbing to reach the gate. The guardian is giving an odd warning when I stop and think about it. Below the gate, those in Purgatory are down by the ocean, blue and clear, or resting in the flowery valley, where Dante meets many earthly rulers. That valley is described in luscious terms, with colors and light — and a serpent that comes to tempt in the evening, and is driven off by guardian angels. Dante leaves the valley in his sleep, carried by Saint Lucy. Others, who are actually the inhabitants of Purgatory, evidently must leave it of their own accord, and take themselves up to the guarded gate, to begin the difficult journey up the mountain. They must leave flowers and peace, and accept the struggle up the mountain, letting go of each thing that holds them back. Pride, sloth, anger.

The guardian is clear. Don’t come till you are ready. If you look back you will be sent back, below the gate, and make no progress towards heaven. And this will cause you Pain. More Pain evidently than will be caused by straightforwardly letting go of what is below and marching up the mountain. This is actually made clear near the top of the mountain when Dante meets a runner on level six who cannot bear to slow down for very long because it will lengthen his efforts to reach Heaven.

Food for thought. Maybe here on Earth we need to practice letting go of a life of ease. For me this is about exercise or freezing in place. For others who knows!