INFERNO. – According to Catholic doctrine, it is the place in which the rebellious angels and human beings who die in mortal sin are eternally punished.
The idea of inextinguishable fire, joined to that of the worm that does not die, already powerfully dramatized in Is. 66:23-24, repeated in Judt. 16:20-21, and taken up by St. John, constantly recurs on the lips of Jesus, who links it with the macabre image of Gehenna (many times in the Synoptics). This word is composed of gê (“valley”) and Hinnom (probably the name of the ancient owner of the place). With this toponymic designation, a ravine to the southwest of Jerusalem was indicated, sadly famous because there Achaz (2 Kings 16:3) and Manasseh (ibid. 21:6) had immolated and burned in honor of Moloch human victims, especially children. The horrendous crime, later repeated by the Jews, was stigmatized by Jeremiah (7:31-32; 19:4-7; 31:38-40) and by Ezekiel (20:30-31). From that time onward, the sinister name was associated with the idea of the devouring fire of the victims and of the worms that slowly consumed the unburied corpses. Jesus, evoking this historical-prophetic image, engraved in the minds of his hearers a strong and fitting idea of the eternal punishment of the wicked. In his preaching, he indicated the candidates for Gehenna: those who insult their brothers (Mt. 5:21-26), hypocrites (Mt. 11:23; 23:15; 24:51; Lk. 10:15), apostates (Mt. 10:28; Lk. 12:5), and those who wish to serve two masters (Lk. 5:29-30; 18:9). Of particular force is the saying: “And if your hand causes you to sin, cut it off; it is better for you to enter life maimed than with two hands to go to Gehenna, to the unquenchable fire (πῦρ τὸ ἄσβετον), where their worm does not die, and the fire is not quenched” (Mk. 9:42-43). Moreover, beneath the thin veil of the Gospel parables, Jesus clearly allowed the prospects of eternal damnation to be glimpsed: the tares will be thrown into the fire: “Thus it will be at the close of the age... they will throw them into the furnace of fire (εἰς τὴν χάμνον τοῦ πυρός); there men will weep and gnash their teeth” (Mt. 13:40-42); in the dragnet of fishes, the wicked will be cast away (Mt. 13:47-50); in the parable of the marriage feast, he who does not wear the wedding garment will be cast “into the outer darkness” (Mt. 22:1-14); the foolish virgins will remain outside the door (Mt. 25:1-13); the slothful servant will be cast out of his master’s house (Mt. 25:14, 30; Lk. 19:1-28). In the great eschatological discourse, Jesus foretells that at the Last Judgment the Lord will separate the good from the wicked and will say to these: “Depart from me, you cursed, into the eternal fire (εἰς τὸ πῦρ τὸ ἄσβετον) prepared for the devil and his angels... And they will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous into eternal life” (Mt. 25:31-46).
The Apostles echo the Master’s teaching. St. Paul repeatedly enumerates the sins that exclude from the kingdom of God (Rom. 2:7-9; 1 Cor. 6:9-10; Gal. 5:19-21; Eph. 5:5) and recalls to the Thessalonians the thought of the ultrapunitive justice by which the persecuted will find consolation and the persecutors “will suffer the punishment of eternal destruction” (2 Thess. 1:9). St. Peter, with vivid expressions, foretells to the ungodly their future suffering: “waterless springs and mists driven by a storm; for them the nether gloom of darkness has been reserved” (2 Pet. 2:17). St. Jude recalls the punishment of the Pentapolis to warn the sodomites “of the punishment of eternal fire” (Jude 7) and compares sinners to wandering stars “for whom the nether gloom of darkness has been reserved” (Jude 13).
The Maccabees threatened the executioners and all the wicked (unbelievers, heretics, the dissolute) with eternal fire (Ignatius M., Eph., 16:1; Martyrium Polycarpi, 2:3; Epistle to Diognetus, 10:7; St. Justin, Apol., I, 21; PG 6, 361; St. Irenaeus, Adv. Haeres., 4:28, 2; PG 7, 1061; Tertullian, Apologet., 48; PL 1, 527; St. Cyprian, Ad Demetr. 24; PL 4, 561). The peaceful possession of this faith was disturbed in the 3rd century by Origen, who, insisting on the mercy of God and on the medicinal end of punishments, held that the eternal fire of Scripture had the simple pedagogical purpose of deterring the simple from sin, but that in reality it was not such because man, preserving even beyond death his free will, after indefinite trials would be purified and attain happiness. This system, called ἀποκατάστασις (restitution), adumbrated in De principiis, 3:6; PG 11, 338, provoked a strong reaction throughout the East, led by Peter and Alexander of Alexandria, Eustathius of Antioch, and Methodius of Olympus. Even St. Athanasius and Eusebius of Caesarea, who admired the great teacher, were opposed to him. Only a few monks (cf. Epiphanius, Ep. ad Io. Hier., 5; PG 42, 385) accepted his convenient theory, from which St. Gregory of Nyssa was not entirely alien (Oratio catechetica magna, 26; PG 45, 69). In the West, however, the original doctrine found tardy but numerous and ardent supporters among priests, monks, and especially among worldlings addicted to vice, as attested by St. Jerome (Ep. 62:2; 83:3, 127:9). The same saint, who for a time had championed the new theory, after 396 rejected it with fiery words: “Yes... there will be a restitution of all things. What difference will there be between the Mother of the Lord and the victims of public lust? Will the devil be the same as Gabriel? Will the Apostles be the same as demons?” (In Ion., 3:6; PL 25, 1142). But after the controversy with Rufinus had subsided, the original idea seemed to revive in the old doctor’s mind (Dial. adv. Pelagianos, 1:28; PL 23, 544). Even St. Ambrose, fascinated by the name and authority of the Alexandrian teacher, did not manage to remain entirely free from the erroneous opinion (De Iacob., 1:6, 26; PL 14, cols. 630-39; cf. J. Tixeront, Histoire des dogmes, II, 9th ed., Paris 1931, p. 334).
Meanwhile in the East the true tradition continued through the clear testimonies of the Syro-Palestinians (St. Ephrem, Sermo de fine, 8; St. Cyril of Jerusalem, Catech., 18:18; PG 33, 1040), the Cappadocians (St. Basil, Hom. in Ps. 28:8; PG 29, 300), the Antiochenes (St. John Chrysostom, De Resurrectione, 8; PG 50, 430), to whom in the West are joined St. Hilary of Poitiers (In Mt., 5:12; PL 13, 1088-89) and above all St. Augustine, whose clear doctrine, contained in formulas of singular precision (De Civitate Dei, 21:17-26; PL 41, 732-36; De haeresibus, 43; PL 42, 96), permeated all medieval eschatology and constituted the basis for the further speculations of the scholastics.
The Origenist eschatology was condemned by the Fides Damasi (Denz-U, 16), by Pope Vigilius (Denz-U, 211), and by the ecumenical councils: the Second Council of Constantinople (A.D. 553), the Third (A.D. 680), and the Second Council of Nicaea (A.D. 787). The error of Arnobius (d. ca. 327), who asserted the annihilation of the damned, found no following and provoked no condemnation. When, however, the idea of the deferral of retribution until the Last Judgment spread among dissident Orientals, the Second Council of Lyons (A.D. 1274) defined that those who die in mortal sin “do not descend into hell” (Denz-U, 464). This doctrine was again sanctioned by Benedict XII (Denz-U, 531) and by the Council of Florence (Denz-U, 693). Many other definitions of the Church concern hell (v. Denz-U, 40, 410, 429, 835, 1290, 1526).

II. NATURE OF THE PUNISHMENTS OF HELL
By sinning, man culpably turns away from God, his ultimate end («avverso ab incommutabili bono»), and clings to a created object from which he derives a fleeting enjoyment («conversio ad commutabile bonum»). To these two aspects of sin correspond the twofold punishment of loss and of sense (cf. Sum. Theol., 1a-2ae, q. 87, a. 4).
1. The punishment of loss (Lat. damnum = loss), «disgrace», is the privation of the possession of God, solemnly indicated in the words «Discedite a me, maledicti» (Mt. 25, 41). Other biblical texts suggest the same idea (Mt. 25, 10-12; I Cor. 6, 9; Apoc. 22, 15), which the Fathers develop with breadth and depth (cf. St. John Chrysostom, In Mt. hom., 23, 9; PG 57, 317; St. Augustine, Enchiridion, 112; PL 40, 285). This punishment, which is as great as God Himself («paena damnati est infinita, quia est amissio boni infiniti»: Sum. Theol., 1a-2ae, q. 87, a. 4), constitutes essentially hell itself. So long as the soul remains in the body, it is not conscious of the profound capacity of its nature, because the allure of finite things dulls the unsatisfied longing for the Infinite. At the moment of death, the spell of transitory things vanishes, and by the intuition proper to spirits, it clearly perceives its relationship as a creature, which immediately provokes the irresistible gravitation of its being toward the universal center of spirits. This innate thrust toward God, which metaphysically conditions the creaturely existence of the soul, reveals to it the measureless depths of its nature, which only God could fill; at the same moment it perceives that its obstinate rebellion against God will forever deprive it of the satisfying bread of the divine. Thus the most tragic divorce between God and the soul is consummated. The eternally repudiated soul vainly tends by instinctive motion toward God, since by an immutably depraved will it hates Him and feels itself rejected by Him. This internal lacerating contradiction constitutes the essence of hell. «It provokes in the damned the frenzied motion of despair, which Dante has powerfully dramatized in the tercets where he describes the inchoate uproar of the "perduta gente" (Inf., III, 22-30). The inchoate rage of the reprobate, fed by impenitent remorse, is the worm that dieth not, the fabulous vulture that devours the ever-renewed viscera of those who live again in death. Tormented in the whirlwind of ever-new sufferings, the eternal exiles break out in furious revolt against God, whom they blaspheme, and in jealous hatred against all men, even their nearest kin, whom they curse (cf. Sum. Theol., 2a-2ae, q. 34, a. 1; 3a, Suppl., q. 98, a. 1-2, 5-6; Compendium Theologiae, 174; Dante, Inf., 3, 103-105). Thus, through a sequence of acts inspired by hopeless impotent hatred, the damned experience with growing bitterness the harsh sting of that immortal death, which constitutes the «summum malorum» (Sum. Theol., 3a, Suppl., q. 98, a. 6, ad 3), at which the gentle soul of St. Bernard shuddered: «Horreo vermem mordacem et mortem vivacem, horreo incidere in manus mortis viventis et vitae morientis» (De consideratione, 5, 12; PL 182, 803).
2. The punishment of sense (so called because it is produced by sensible things, which become instruments of divine vengeance) is added to the excruciating privation of God as its complement. It is indicated in the words of the Divine Judge: «Ite in ignem aeternum» (Mt. 25, 41), in many other passages of Scripture (Mt. 8, 12; Mk. 9, 43; Lk. 16, 28; Jude 7) and in the constant teaching of Tradition.
The punishment of sense is the hostility of creation, which rises up against the reprobate as an effective instrument of avenging justice. Man tends toward God as toward the supreme good, and he also tends with spontaneous impulse toward the created universe, which is a reflection of the divine goodness. There is no incompatibility between these tendencies, but rather a subordination. Man can turn toward creatures, but only as
III. PROPERTIES OF THE PUNISHMENTS OF HELL
The punishments of hell, though immutable and eternal for all, are nevertheless of greater or lesser gravity, proportioned to the number and malice of sins.
The inequality of punishments is affirmed by Scripture (Wis. 6, 6-7; Mt. 10, 15; 11, 22; Apoc. 18, 7) and by the Fathers, of whom St. Gregory the Great summarizes their thought: «Quantum exigit culpa, tantum illic sentitur paena» (Dial. 4, 43; PL 77, 401). The Church has sanctioned with her infallible magisterium (in the Second Council of Lyons: «paenis tamen disparibus puniendus»; Denz.-U., 464, cf. 429, 693) this truth, which is a requirement of justice (cf. St. Thomas, Sum. Theol., 3a, Suppl., q. 69, a. 5).
The immutability of the torments of hell was denied by Prudentius (Hymns de lumine paschali; PL 59, 828) and by some medieval theologians (Gilbert of Poitiers, Peter Lombard, Prepositinus of Cremona), who admitted a certain mitigation of them through the prayers and suffrages of the faithful. St. Thomas rejected this opinion as «presumptuous, since it is contrary to the sayings of the saints and vain» (Sum. Theol., 3a, Suppl., q. 71, a. 1). The same judgment must be given of the recent attempts of George Mivart (19th cent.) and Alonso Getino (d. 1946) to prove that the punishments of hell are tolerable or mitigable.
The eternity of hell is formally asserted by Scripture (Mt. 25, 46; Mk. 9, 42; Apoc. 14, 11; 20, 10) and by Tradition (v. supra), of which St. Augustine gathers all the elements when he affirms that it is «most absurd» (De Civitate Dei, 21, 32; PL 41, 736) to exclude the eternity of hell from the Lord’s words: «They will go into eternal punishment» (Mt. 25, 46). The Church has solemnly defined this truth in the Quicumque (Denz.-U., 40) and in the Fourth Lateran Council (loc. cit., 429). This dogma was the rock on which Origen foundered and is the scandal of unbelievers of all ages (Celsus, Unitarians, liberal Protestants, rationalists).
Reason halts before this mystery of justice and is limited to demonstrating the non-absurdity of the divine plan. Sin and punishment stand to each other as concave and convex; since sin in relation to God has «a certain infinity», it demands an infinite punishment, if not in intensity at least in duration (cf. Sum. Theol., 1a-2ae, q. 87, a. 4; 3a, Suppl., q. 99, a. 1). The fear of temporal punishment would not be an effective means against the passions, which offer immediate enjoyment; it would always be overcome by the fear of a punishment distant and limited in time. If the punishment were not eternal, the creature would be master of its fate and the accomplishment of the divine designs would depend on human caprice, because the creature could boast, after the rebellion of sin, of having forced God to grant it happiness one day. Thus the denouement of history would depend on the creature and not on God.
Despite these reasons, which demonstrate the non-repugnance of the divine design, even today, as in the past, there are those who cry out at the unthinkable cruelty of a spiritual God taking vengeance. In reality it is not God who takes vengeance, but sin, the mystery of iniquity, which draws upon itself a mystery of justice. It is not God who casts into hell, but the sinner who knowingly and willingly enters it: «in id quod elegerunt eos expellens» (St. Augustine, Enarr. in Ps. 5, 10; PL 36, 87). If one were to pluck out his eyes and live forever, he would by his own fault be eternally blind, and God would not be cruel in not restoring his sight (cf. Sum. Theol., 1a-2ae, q. 87, a. 3; 3a, Suppl., q. 99, a. 1).
M. Daffara, De Sacramentis et de novissimis, Turin 1944, pp. 763-85; L. Lercher-F. Dander, Institutiones theologiae dogmaticae, IV, 11, pars altera, Innsbruck 1949, pp. 33-59; A. Piolanti, De novissimis, 3rd ed., Rome 1950, pp. 33-59; — Monographs: A. Catarino, De bonorum praemio et supplicio malorum aeterno et vero igne inferri, Lyons 1543 (arguing that the fire of Hell is metaphorical); A. Rusca, De inferno et statu daemonum ante mundi exitium, Milan 1621; V. BAUTZEN, De futuro impiorum statu, Venice 1764; C. Passaglia, De igne inferno non metaphorico, Rome 1855; A. Vincenzi, S. Gregori Nysseni et Origenis de aeternitate paenarum in vita futura cum dogmate catholico concordia, 1864 (attempts to exonerate the two writers); F. S. Schouppe, Il dogma dell'Inferno, Turin 1890; J. Stufler, Die Heiligkeit Gottes und der ewige Tod, Innsbruck 1903; I. M. Wey, Traditional aspects of Hell, London 1903; I. X. Kiefl, Die Ewigkeit der Hölle, Paderborn 1905; I. Bautz, Die Hölle, Mainz 1905; A. Lehaut, L'éternité des peines de l'enfer dans St Augustine, Paris 1912; A. Michel, L'enfer et la règle de la foi, 1912; A. Cabassut, La mitigation des peines de l'enfer d'après les livres liturgiques, in Revue d'histoire ecclésiastique, 23 (1927), pp. 65-70; E. Méric, L'altra vita, trans. II. E. Lari, II, Turin 1927, pp. 262-84; I. Tixeront, Histoire des dogmes, 3 vols., Paris 1928-31, passim; G. M. Monsabré, Esposizione del dogma cattolico (Lenten sermons 1888) conferences 98-99, trans. II. by G. Bonometti, Turin 1929, pp. 41-120; T. V. Gerster a Zeil, Infernu, Tractatus dogmaticus iuxta sensum S. Bonaventurae, 1937; A. D. Sertillanges, Il catechismo degli increduli, trans. it., 1937, pp. 287-306; H. Rondet, Les peines de l'enfer, in Nouvelle revue théologique, 67 (1940), pp. 397-427; id., L'enfer et la conscience moderne, Peut-on être donné pour un seul péché mortel? in Problèmes pour la réflexion chrétienne, Paris 1944, pp. 99-158; R. Garrigou-Lagrange, L'altra vita e la profondità dell'anima, Brescia 1947, pp. 71-106; I. B. Manyà, Theologumenon II, De ratione peccati paenam aeternam inducens, Barcelona 1947; P. Parente, Dio e l'uomo, 2nd ed., Rome 1949, pp. 451-55; F. Cumont, Lux perpetua, Paris 1949, pp. 189-235; P. Heinisch, La teologia del Vecchio Testamento, trans. II. by D. Pintonello, 1950, pp. 307-318; D. Spicq, La révélation de l'enfer dans la Ste Écriture, in Enfer (Foi vivante), Paris 1950, pp. 89-144; G. Bardy, Les Pères de l'Église en face des problèmes posés par l'enfer, ibid., pp. 145-240; Ch.-V. Héris, Le dogme de l'enfer et la théologie, ibid., pp. 241-306.
IV. Iconography
The earliest representations of Hell are purely symbolic, and despite possible connections with Eastern, Greek, and Latin traditions that also describe the realms of the afterlife in literary terms, they appear very rarely in early Christian iconography. They are always linked to two scenes from the New Testament: the Liberation of Adam from Hell, as in the mosaic of St Mark’s Basilica (5th–6th century), and the Parable of the Rich Man (Luke 16:19–31), as in a Greek Psalter from the Moscow Library (9th century). Hell is indicated by an opening amid rocky crags; sometimes it is identified with the figure of a prince with diabolical traits and attributes.This identification appears with particular frequency in Western art: Hell is depicted as the gaping maw of a wild beast, horrifically misshapen, with sharp fangs and teeth, viewed from above or in side profile (miniature from a manuscript in the Oxford Library, c. 1000). Exceptionally, dragon’s feet and claws are added beneath the throat (miniature from a German medieval Psalter, c. 1233). This terrifying animalistic depiction, also recalled by musicians such as those who portrayed Satan devouring the damned in the vault of the Florence Baptistery, enjoyed particular popularity in the Nordic countries. A miniature from a Psalter originating in Winchester, now in the British Museum, London (12th century), clearly shows the identification of Satan’s throat with the gates of Hell, adding to the jaws a veritable door with bolts and locks. An engraving from the Lower Rhine, mid-15th century, still recalls this theme and specifies that this mouth is the entrance to the subterranean realm and the dwellings of the damned.
Representations considered “realistic” of Hell are those in which elements of punishment appear, particularly fire. Hell is generally conceived as a pit or an underground cavern, also in keeping with classical descriptions of the Underworld. Flames rise from its depths, or a river of fire flows from the foot of the Cross and pours from the wounds of Christ, filling the abyss and coiling around the damned. Yet the variations are manifold. In a miniature illustration of the Parable of the Rich Man in the Evangelary of Emperor Otto at Aachen (10th century), Hell is depicted as a fiery chasm from which emerges a demonic female head, with the word *abyssus* inscribed on her hair. At other times, Hell is portrayed as the principal dwelling of Lucifer. Not infrequently, it is transformed into a noble palace or a royal residence, as seen in an ivory from the 9th century depicting the Last Judgment (in the London Museum). Within a towering structure, the giant head of Satan looms, swallowing the damned. The infernal nature of the building is clearly indicated by armed troops of devils guarding it and by its fortified entrance, complete with doors, bolts, turrets, etc. In a prayer book from the early 15th century in the London Library, the theme is further developed, while recollections of infernal buildings and the diabolical citadel are still noted in Stefan Lochner. In depictions of the Last Judgment, too, various presentations of Hell appear, often colored by a macabre and grotesque sensibility.
The most significant representations of Hell, however, are those of an unpublished work, where it covers entire walls. In Byzantine-influenced art, as at Torcello and S. Angelo in Formis, Hell is divided into multiple planes and sections, each dedicated to specific categories of the damned. These are part of the depictions of the Last Judgment; later, Giotto’s version in the counter-façade of the Scrovegni Chapel in Padua (c. 1305) follows this tradition. Giotto devotes a vast amount of space to Hell, offering perhaps the most comprehensive depiction of infernal punishments, rich in imaginative detail and with such a number of correspondences that it recalls Dante’s pages. He draws directly from popular tradition, possibly drawing on the choreography of sacred representations, one of which, held in Florence in 1304, is recorded by Villani; it is likely that the correspondences with the first canticle of the *Divine Comedy* stem from the use of identical sources. At the center, below, stands Lucifer, iconographically derived from Nicola Pisano’s *Pulpit* in Pisa. He devours sinners and clutches two between his hands. He sits atop dragons with gaping jaws that bite the damned. To the right, in the foreground, are four ditches, within which naked men suffer, some upside down; in the background stretches a rugged landscape of cliffs and rocks, where special episodes of punishment unfold according to the law of retaliation or *contrappasso*. Sins are sometimes repeated in inverted and ironic situations (simony, lust, gluttony, avarice, etc.). Alongside the figures tormented in various ways—from boiling cauldrons to gallows—appear lizards and toads, which mount, tear apart, and roast their victims on spits or take part in macabre representations of guilt. The humble and the powerful, indiscriminately mingled in punishment, writhe in the swamp devastated by the river of fire or among the rocks.
Similar representations are found in S. Maria Maggiore in Tuscania and in the Camposanto of Pisa. With the fresco by Nardo di Cione, depicting the Last Judgment—where Hell occupies an entire wall—in the Strozzi Chapel of S. Maria Novella in Florence (shortly after 1350), the depiction of the infernal realm becomes, at least in Italy, a visual commentary on Dante’s first canticle. The subterranean world is seen as if in a sectional drawing, and the individual zones, arranged in rings, are isolated one by one, following Dante’s narrative. The first five circles are themselves separated from the central nucleus of Hell by walls and towers, the city of Dis. The *ignavi* are thus separated from the violent, the fraudulent are confined to the *Malebolge*, where the pit narrows into rocky circles. Lucifer looms below in a frozen lake, devouring the traitors. The necessarily fragmented vision does not lack the charm of a characterized landscape.
Italian Renaissance art, though in new stylistic interpretations, does not abandon the Dantean conception; rather, it skillfully draws upon II. Suffice it to recall, along with Botticelli’s drawings for the *Divine Comedy*, partly in the Vatican Library, the frescoes by Luca Signorelli.
