[2] The morning of Easter Monday.
[3] Lucia seems to be here the symbol of assisting grace, the gratia operans of the school-men. It was she who was called upon by the Virgin (Hell, Canto II.) to aid Dante when he was astray in the wood, and who had moved Beatrice to go to his succor.
Reader, thou seest well how I exalt my theme, and therefore marvel not if with more art I reenforce it.[1]
[1] These words may be intended to call attention to the doctrine which underlies the imagery of the verse.
The entrance within the gate of Purgatory is the assurance of justification, which is the change of the soul from a state of sin to a state of justice or righteousness. Justification itself consists, according to St. Thomas Aquinas (Summa Theologica, Prima Secundae, quaest. cxiii. art. 6 and 8), of four parts: first, the infusion of grace; second, the turning of the free will to God through faith; third, the turning of the free will against sin; fourth, the remission of sin. It must be accompanied by the sacrament of penance, which consists of contrition, confession, and satisfaction by works of righteousness.
Outside the gate of Purgatory justification cannot be complete. The souls in the Ante-Purgatory typify those who have entered on the way towards justification, but have not yet attained it. They undergo a period of mortification to sin, of deliberation, as St. Thomas Aquinas says: “Contingit autem quandoque quod praecedit aliqua deliberatio quae non est do substantia justificationis sed via in justificationem.” Summa Theol., l. c. art. 7.
We drew near to it, and reached such place that there, where at first there seemed to me a rift, like a cleft which divides a wall, I saw a gate, and three steps beneath for going to it of divers colors, and a gatekeeper who as yet said not a word. And as I opened my eye there more and more, I saw him sitting on the upper step, such in his face that I endured it not.[1] And he had in his hand a naked sword, which so reflected the rays toward us that I often raised my sight in vain. “Tell it from there, what would ye?” began he to say; “where is the guide? Beware lest the coming up be harmful to you.” [2] “A lady from Heaven with these things acquainted,” replied my Master to him, “only just now said to us, ‘Go thither, here is the gate.’” “And may she speed your progress in good,” began again the courteous gatekeeper, “come forward then unto our steps.”
[1] The angel at the gate appears to be the type of the priest who administers absolution.
[2] Unless grace has been infused into the heart it is a sin to present one’s self as ready for the sacrament.
Thither we came to the first great stair; it was of white marble so polished and smooth that I mirrored myself in it as I appear. The second, of deeper hue than perse, was of a rough and scorched stone, cracked lengthwise and athwart. The third, which above lies massy, seemed to me of porphyry as flaming red as blood that spirts forth from a vein. Upon this the Angel of God held both his feet, seated upon the threshold that seemed to me stone of adamant.[1] Up over the three steps my Leader drew me with good will, saying, “Beg humbly that he undo the lock.” Devoutly I threw myself at the holy feet; I besought for mercy’s sake that he would open for me; but first upon my breast I struck three times.[2] Seven P’s upon my forehead he inscribed with the point of his sword,[3] and “See that thou wash these wounds when thou art within,” he said.