“showering the parchments”

Having recently read the testimony of a contemporary Christian writer that you can’t have real faith without doubt (to think otherwise is “simplistic”), I was struck by the uncompromising nature of Dante’s profession of faith when asked about it by one of the blessed in Paradise:

“‘… The bountiful

     rain of the Holy Spirit showering

     the parchments, Old and New, is to my mind

unquestionable certainty of Faith,

     so accurate that any other proof

     compared to it would sound most unconvincing.’

I heard: ‘These premises, the Old and New,

     which you believe to be conclusive proof,

     how do you know they are God’s holy word?’

And I: ‘The proof that what I read is true 

     is in the works that followed: Nature’s hand

     could never heat or forge that kind of iron.’

Then the reply: ‘Tell me, how do you know

     that these works ever were? You use as proof,

     and nothing more, what still needs to be proved.’”

What is Dante’s trump card? Christ performed miracles! If Christ hadn’t performed miracles, nobody would have paid attention to him, or, at least, an unassailable empire of holiness would not have been built upon his teachings. And, presumably, Dante himself would doubt, rather than have a faith of “unquestionable certainty.” 

I have little doubt that Dante, a well-read man of the thirteenth century, was aware of other traditions of miracles, some as believably described as those of the Bible — Old and New parts. 

On the other hand, another Christian writer of our time wrote to the effect that the miracles Jesus performs are described with a unique realism, and have great power as evidence for being so. I’m sure he wants that to be true. Maybe Dante thought so too. I don’t recall the contemporary writer providing pages of documentation of miracleworkers (Jesus contemporaries) whose miracles were described in a manner so totally unlike Jesus’ that it was obvious how much Jesus’ stood out. The fragmentary nature of the historical record — both from the wear and tear of centuries and out of intentional purging — leaves one with only a certain amount to go on … an uncertain amount, I should say?

But back to Dante’s Paradiso. Dante’s logic is essentially circular. He has unshakable belief in his sources because he finds them believable. The parchments smell like God. Plus there were miracles. 

Oh, and, it’s not enough, according to the blessed interrogator in Heaven, but there is that part about Nature being unable to “forge that kind of iron.” What that means exactly, I’m not sure. But I’m going to guess it’s the idea that there must be a God because, look around, no way could this have all just happened. 

Which takes us back to — why is it the Bible that has the right answer to how everything came to be? Which takes us back to — because we believe it does. 

And around we go.

source:

The Portable Dante

edited & translated by Mark Musa

1995. Penguin Books, New York