Ratramnus

When Charles the Bald visited the abbey of New Corvey in 843, he said he would like to have the Eucharist explained to him. In response, the monk Ratramnus (died c.868) wrote a treatise, De Corpore et Sanguine Domini, "On the Body and Blood of the Lord," in which he explained that the bread and wine represented the body and blood of Jesus figuratively.

The abbot of Corvey at the time was Paschasius Radbertus, who also wrote De Corpore et Sanguine Domini, in which he explained that the bread and wine were changed to be equal to the actual flesh and blood of Jesus. He presented a version of his work to Charles. These opposing views did not seem to create any controversy or conflict at the time. That all happened later when others took sides on the question.

Ratramnus also wrote works such as De Praedestinatione Dei, "On the Predestination of God." In this work he denied the ideas of Gottschalk of Orbais, an itinerant Saxon theologian who visited Corvey. Gottschalk believed that predestination worked on both the saved and the damned. Ratramnus defended this idea.

One of his other works was a letter about the Cynocephali, the dog-headed men. The archbishop of Hamburg-Bremen, Saint Rimbert (c.830 - 888), while on a mission in Scandinavia, heard that there were communities of men with the heads of dogs living nearby. Rimbert's question was simple: if they were living in organized communities as he was told, were they then capable of reason and therefore of the race of Adam and suitable subjects for Christian conversion?

There was a long history of cynocephali going back to classical times, and they were usually referred to as animals. Ratramnus wrote that they were indeed human in essence though not in appearance and should be converted. (There are no stories of missionaries actually finding and communicating with any communities of dog-headed men.)

Ratramnus' most significant work on the body and blood was, at a later date, wrongly ascribed to someone else. When Berengar of Tours (died 1088) in a later century took up the topic, he used Ratramnus' work for his arguments, thinking it was the work of John Scotus Eriugena. John Scotus Eriugena was not an obscure person, but quite prominent, and we'll see why tomorrow.

Berengar and Controversy

After Berengar of Tours avoided what he assumed was a council to condemn him further (he had already been excommunicated for his denial of transubstantiation), he went to be shielded by some supporters, Count Geoffrey II of Anjou and a former student, Eusebius Bruno the Bishop of Angers.

Berengar was willing to accept that there was a spiritual change in the bread and wine, but the Church saw it as something more, an actual physical transformation. A regional synod in Tours in 1054 condemned him again. This concerned him so much that he wrote a letter recanting his earlier denial. He agreed that, during the Mass, the bread and wine became in some way the body and blood of Christ. The bishops who convened the Council of Tours in 1055 considered this sufficient and the matter settled.

He went to Rome in 1059, summoned once again to express his opinion. They wrote a statement for him to sign that was so far from his views:

...the bread and wine which are placed on the altar are after consecration not only a sacrament but also the true body and blood of our Lord Jesus Christ, and with the senses not only sacramentally but in truth are taken and broken by the hands of the priests and crushed by the teeth of the faithful.

...that he refused to sign it. He requested an opportunity to speak before a group of prelates, but was denied.

Not long after, Geoffrey of Anjou died. Berengar returned home and reversed his earlier recantation from 1054; this obstinacy caused Eusebius to withdraw his support. Pope Alexander II offered him a lifeline, sending him a letter encouraging him to use silence as his shield and stop espousing radical views.

Berengar would not stop. In 1069 he wrote a treatise against Pope Nicholas II and the 1054 council that had condemned him. Lanfranc (in 1070 being appointed Archbishop of Canterbury) wrote a response, as did Bishop Hugo of Langres and Bishop Berengar of Venosa.

He was condemned again in 1076 at the Synod of Poitiers. Pope Gregory VII, who in 1054 was Cardinal Hildebrand, the papal legate who convened the Council of Tours at which Berengar originally agreed that transubstantiation occurred (although in a vague statement that was nonetheless enough to satisfy everyone), tried to save the situation by having Berengar sign (yet another) indefinite statement. Berengar's enemies were not satisfied and again called for a statement about real flesh and blood.

Berengar finally admitted the error of his ways, went home, and immediately wrote an account of the events in Rome and again reversed his position back to the original. This meant another synod to condemn him, this time at Bordeaux in 1080, at which he for the last time publicly renounced his earlier views. Tired no doubt of the controversy, and at this time probably a man at least in his 70s, he retired to an island near Tours, Saint-Cosme, where he died on 6 January 1088.

Berengar's situation thrust front and center the question of what happens to the bread and wine during the Mass. Theologians were forced to debate and determine the significance of the meal at the last Supper. Transubstantiation might not have taken hold had Berengar not raised the issue so stridently. But where did the idea of bread and wine becoming actual flesh and blood arise in the history of theology? Against whom was Berengar arguing? For that we are going to look back to a 9th century Carolingian abbot, the orphan Paschasius Radbertus...next time.

Berengar of Tours

A controversial figure who was widely respected by some and strongly denounced by others, Berengar was born in the early 11th century, probably in Tours. He was educated at the school of Chartres under Bishop Fulbert of Chartres. When Fulbert died in 1028, Berengar returned to Tours and became a canon at the cathedral there, becoming head of its school in 1040.

His simple lifestyle, erudition, and judgment enhanced his reputation to the point where he was asked to preside over a dispute between the bishop of Poitiers and his diocesan priests. Count (from 1040 - 1060) Geoffrey of Anjou was an admirer and supporter. To be frank, Geoffrey was described in the Gesta Normannorum Ducum as "a treacherous man in every respect, frequently inflicted assaults and intolerable pressure on his neighbors." Nevertheless, a good man to have on your side if you had controversial views.

He had two views that clashed with official Church thought. He preached the supremacy of Scripture (as opposed to many of the trappings and embellishments of the liturgy that had been added over the years). He might have been fine if that was all. His real downfall was his denial of transubstantiation, the idea that the bread and wine during the Mass was actually transformed in some way to the flesh and blood of Jesus.

To be fair to Berengar, not everyone believed in transubstantiation. A Carolingian theologian in the 9th century, Paschasius Radbertus, was one of the first to claim that the Eucharist was identical to flesh and blood because what Jesus said during the Last Supper must be true because God does not lie. This idea did not receive universal support. A Frankish monk named Ratramnus (died c.868) and Hrabanus Maurus (c.780 - 856) suggested the conversion was more spiritual than physical.

Berengar was accused of disregarding the presence of the divine in the Eucharist, when it is possible that he simply rejected the idea of a physical change in the bread and wine. Berengar wrote in 1050 to Lanfranc of Bec in Normandy (later archbishop of Canterbury), expressing his concern that Lanfranc supported the idea of transubstantiation and considered Ratramnus heretical. Lanfranc had been traveling to Rome, and the letter followed him there. Lanfranc shared the letter with others, with the result that Berengar was summoned to appear at a council in Vercelli in northern Italy. Berengar asked King Henry I of France for permission to go. For reasons unknown, Henry refused and kept Berengar captive. The Lanfranc letter was read in Vercelli and Berengar was declared excommunicated.

The king released him, but called his own council in Paris for October 1051, inviting Berengar. Berengar suspected this council was intended to do him more harm, so he went to stay with Count Geoffrey. The bishop of Angers, Eusebius of Angers, also supported Berengar, under whom he had studied at Tours.

The Church was not going to let him live out his excommunicated life in peace, however. I'll go into that tomorrow.

Transubstantiation

I'm going to start with a quotation from a website about transubstantiation and Paul to the Corinthians:

Evidently Paul believed that the words Christ had said at the Last Supper, “This is my Body,” meant that really and physically the bread is his body. In fact Christ was not merely saying that the bread was his body; he was decreeing that it should be so and that it is so. [source]

The idea that the bread and wine of the Last Supper was not just bread and wine offered symbolically was a powerful image, and it was made official Church doctrine by the Fourth Lateran Council of 1215. But the bread and wine was considered special as early as the 1st century CE as evidenced by the Didache.

The Didache (Classical Greek, "Teaching") is perhaps the earliest document outside of the Bible that deals with Christianity. Its first line is "The teaching of the Lord to the Gentiles (or Nations) by the twelve apostles." It states:

Let no one eat or drink of your Eucharist, unless they have been baptized into the name of the Lord; for concerning this also the Lord has said, 'Give not that which is holy to the dogs'.

The idea of bread and wine actually converting had its supporters and doubters, of course, and there were works written to support both sides. One of the arguments in favor was that Jesus would not lie, and so when he says "This is my body," it is to be taken as proof that the bread has somehow transformed into his flesh. Berengar of Tours, however, in the 11th century argued against any actual physical change; I mentioned this many years ago when talking about Lanfranc, who was forced to argue against Berengar partially for personal and political reasons.

It has been speculated that Hildebert of Lavardin may have studied under Berengar. Whether true or not, Hildebert did not support Berengar's views on the bread and wine. In fact, Hildebert believed just the opposite, and it is in his writings that the word "transubstantiation" is first used to describe the process spoken of by Jesus at the Last Supper. The Fourth Lateran Council took up this terminology when they said the bread and wine "transubstantiate" during the Mass.

But what about Berengar? He was obviously influential but had different ideas from some of his contemporaries. How important was he? Did he have anything else to say besides his rejection of transubstantiation? Let's talk about him next time.

Hildebert of Lavardin

He didn't want the titles he got, he didn't write the things people said he wrote, he wasn't the saint that some said he was, he didn't get what he asked for from the pope.

Hildebert was born c.1055 to poor parents in Lavardin in central France. Intended for an ecclesiastical life, he was probably tutored at Tours, possible under Berengar of Tours. He became a master at the school of Le Mans, where possibly he crossed paths with Gallus Anonymus. Around 1096 or 1097 he became bishop of Le Mans, but was taken hostage by William II and carried to England for about a year as part of the frequent England-France conflict started by the 1066 Conquest.

Not all his clergy agreed with his management, and he went to Rome to ask Pope Paschal II if he could resign as bishop. Paschal refused. While he was in Rome, back in Le Mans trouble was brewing. A former Benedictine named Henry of Lausanne was in Le Mans preaching against church hierarchy. The people were attracted to his preaching and had admiration for his style: he went bare foot, slept on the ground, and lived on donations. Hildebert was able to force Henry out of Le Mans, but the population was still wary of church authority and willing to disregard it at will.

In 1125, against his will, Hildebert was made archbishop of Tours by Pope Honorius II. Now it was a French king he had to contend with: he and Louis VI clashed over ecclesiastical rights, a conflict Hildebert no doubt wished to avoid from all the way back when he asked to not be a bishop anymore.

He wrote, but he was given credit for many writings that were not his. Old editions of his writings ascribe to him things written by Peter Lombard and others. He was praised after his life for the work Tractatus theologicus, but this is now attributed to Hugh of St. Victor.

He was referred to as a saint by some writers, but there is no record of him being canonized. In fact, his familiarity with Latin classics like Cicero and Ovid give his writings a style more similar to pagan authors than Christian ones. The only two serious works that are still attributed to him are a life of Hugh of Cluny and of St. Radegunda. He was known for poems. The illustration shows a piece of a 12th-century edition of his poetry.

Hildbert remained archbishop of Tours until his death on 18 December 1133.

After he ejected Henry of Lausanne from Le Mans, Henry went elsewhere to preach. A different archbishop seized him and took him before the pope to deal with him. We'll see how that went tomorrow.

Lanfranc, Part 2 (of 2)

The Transformation of Matter

Of Lanfranc's (c.1005-1089) many accomplishments, perhaps the most far-reaching was his writing on the subject of transubstantiation, the doctrine that the bread and wine in the Christian mass become the body and blood of Christ.

Not all authorities agreed on exactly what was meant in Matthew, Mark and Luke when Jesus offered bread and wine to the Apostles. St. Ignatius of Antioch, in a letter to the Romans, was very clear in 106 CE when he said  "I desire the bread of GOD, which is the flesh of Jesus Christ." Paschasius Radbertus (785-865) wrote that the substance of the bread and wine was identical to the body and blood of Christ in heaven.

Although many early church fathers wrote in support of this, there was mild opposition for generations. A turning point came when Berengar of Tours (c. 999–January 6, 1088), a brilliant theologian, declared that the divinity imbued in the Eucharist did not rely on a change in its physical material. This was not radical enough to get him condemned--it acknowledged the special quality of the bread and wine--but Berengar wrote a letter to Lanfranc, chastising him for not rejecting Paschasius' view as well. The letter had to travel from Tours to Rome, where Lanfranc was at the time; by the time it reached Lanfranc, it had been read by several people, and the beginning of a public conflict was in the air. Lanfranc, knowing that Berengar's view was not looked upon favorably, and not wanting to prejudice the pope against Lanfranc's own future, took up the cause and wrote a public argument in opposition to Berengar. The world had a new and respected authority now for the transformation of the body and blood of Christ. The term transubstantiated was used to describe the change in the Fourth Lateran Council of 1215, and Protestant Christianity had a point of contention for centuries to come.

(Teaser: for me, the best piece of doctrinal explanation came from a student of Lanfranc, who also became Archbishop of Canterbury. I look forward some day to telling you about Anselm of Bec.)