Why God Man?

The early Church fathers struggled to explain exactly how salvation worked; that is, what was the actual way that Christ's death and resurrection achieved atonement for Adam's Original Sin? There were different theories of atonement, but they were not satisfactory for various reasons.

It was Anselm of Bec (also called "of Canterbury" when he became archbishop there) who in the late 11th century provided an explanation of why God had to become a man for salvation in his treatise Cur Deus Homo (literally "Why God Man?"). His explanation came to be called the satisfaction theory of atonement.

Previous theories of atonement suggested that the souls that needed saving were out of reach because satan (who held them in hell) had some kind of right or authority to keep them because of Adam's transgression. This idea made no sense to Anselm; God could not "owe" anything to satan. Anselm's view was likely influenced by the contemporaneous feudal system. In it, loyalty and duty were owed to your lord. Transgressing against your lord was unthinkable, but in those cases where it happened, you owed restitution, the restoration of what has been taken from the lord.

Original Sin, therefore, was not an act that put man in satan's power; it was a transgression against the Lord, and restitution was owed to Him, not satan. We humans owed God a debt of honor. As Anselm writes in Chapter I of Cur Deus Homo:

This is the debt which man and angel owe to God, and no one who pays this debt commits sin; but every one who does not pay it sins. This is justice, or uprightness of will, which makes a being just or upright in heart, that is, in will; and this is the sole and complete debt of honor which we owe to God, and which God requires of us. [link to translation]

Adam had failed in "uprightness of will" and transgressed. Restitution needed to be made.

How was one to do that? Man is inadequate to make restitution to the divine; we did not have that capacity in us. What was needed for divine transgression was divine restitution. For that to happen, a man was needed who was more than a man; hence, the Incarnation.

Through the birth of Jesus, there now existed someone whose divine essence gave him the supererogatory ability to "pay back" to God more than a simple man could. His death is not the only part of the restitution, however. As Aquinas later stresses, the Passion—especially the suffering and scourging he experiences prior to Crucifixion—was especially needed to pay back the honor that was taken from God by Adam and even more.*

Anselm seems to apply this salvation universally, although some later writers suggested that it only applied to some individuals.

Anselm completed this c.1098, while in exile. Why was the Archbishop of Canterbury in exile? Well, England's King William "Rufus" was the reason. William had seized all his lands, and their differences of opinion on lay investiture and the church's independence made England unsafe for Anselm, even though he retained his title. William was about to die in a suspicious hunting accident, however, and Anselm's situation could change. Could. We'll talk about that tomorrow.

*In the film Jesus Christ Superstar (1973), immediately after the 39 lashes, the scene changes and the actor is seen all cleaned up in a radiant white robe with the triumphant strains of the title song playing. This moment reveals him truly as divine. It seems to me the director was familiar with the idea that it was this particular suffering that was the "turning point" in Christ's role in guaranteeing salvation.

Gargoyles!

Large stone buildings intended to last for centuries, such as examples of Gothic Architecture, would be exposed to ages and ages of rainwater running down the sides and eroding the mortar. The solution was to devise a channel that would carry water away from the side of the building. The channel was thought of as a "throat" or "gullet" carrying water, and the French term for that was gargouille from the root gar "to swallow."

Not all gargoyles are waterspouts. In Italian architecture, a distinction is made between the carved creature used as a waterspout and called a gargolla or garguglia, and a carving designed simply to carry water away from the building, which is called gronda sporgente, literally "protruding gutter."

A late-14th century legend of St. Romanus explained the origin of the term as the name of a dragon; a good story, but pretty silly.

Long before the Romanus legend, Bernard of Clairvaux in the 12th century commented on gargoyles:

What are these fantastic monsters doing in the cloisters before the eyes of the brothers as they read? What is the meaning of these unclean monkeys, these strange, savage lions and monsters? To what purpose are here placed these creatures, half beast, half man or these spotted tigers? I see several bodies with one head and several heads with one body. Here is a quadruped with a serpent's head; there a fish with a quadruped's head; then again an animal: half horse, half goat... Surely, if we do not blush for such absurdities, we should at least regret what we have spent on them.

The origin of gargoyles that were not waterspouts is up for debate: Bernard doesn't seem to know why they were there. One theory is that they were illustrations of sin or evil, designed to make you glad you were a good Christian. Another thought is that they guarded the church.

If a carving of a creature was not a waterspout, it was a grotesque. The medieval grotesque needs its own explanation, which you will get tomorrow.

Rushbearing

The churches mentioned in this blog have been well-known Anglo-Saxon, Norman, or Gothic edifices, but there were numerous small churches in villages and hamlets, and many of them had something in common: dirt floors.

Not plain dirt: they would be packed down so they were smooth and level. But they were dirt; stone floors were expensive, and wooden planks were also an extravagance in many cases. There was a way to make the compacted earthen floor a little more palatable, and that was through the uses of rushes.

Rushes came from several plants, a common one being the Acorus calamus called "Sweet Flag" (and a dozen other names). It had medical uses according to Dioscorides, but its use to cover floors derived from its sweet aroma. People would use rushes for the floors at home (and I'll talk about that tomorrow), but the use of rushes in churches turned into a festival in its own right that is still celebrated in towns in England today (although the need for rushes on the floor is long past).

Rushbearing was the event when fresh rushes were brought to the church. It developed into a fall celebration, involving the whole town collecting and parading the rushes to the church to be strewn on the floors. Records from the 16th century show that church bells were rung on the day, and wine, ale, and cakes were provided to those bearing the rushes. Townspeople would also dress up in costumes during the celebration:

...some of them putting on womens aparrell, other some of them putting on longe haire & visardes, and others arminge them with the furnyture of souldiers, and being there thus armed and disguysed did that day goe from the Churche, and so went up and downe the towne showinge themselves. [Wilson, Richard; Dutton, Richard; Findlay, Alison (2003). Region, religion and patronage: Lancastrian Shakespeare]

The Puritans outlawed rushbearing festivals because of the absence of decorum and presence of drinking, but in 1617 the "Declaration of Sports" by James I listed rushbearing as one of the pursuits allowed on Sundays and Holy Days.

Sometimes the rushes were carried by townsfolk, sometimes they were brought on a rushcart. Often the festival would take place on the Sunday closest to the feast day of the saint for whom the church was named. In many cases, it was simply a harvest festival, connected with collecting rushes before the cold weather wiped them out.

No churches nowadays need rushes on the floors, but many towns still have (or have revived) the festival. If you want to see how one town celebrates it, check out https://rushbearing.com/, where the town of Sowerby Bridge has surpassed all others by owning the web domain!

But what about non-church use of rushes for floors? Huts and cottages would have surely had earthen floors. And what about castles? Did stone floors need rushes? Were people in the Middle Ages trampling on plants in their own homes? Let's figure this out together ... next time.

Making Stained Glass Windows

Creating sufficiently high temperatures needed to melt silica and fashion glass was difficult, but at some point we discovered that the addition of potash (potassium, from wood ash soaked in water), soda (sodium carbonate, from plant ash), and lead would lower the melting point, making production easier.

Now you have molten glass; how do you shape it?

The oldest stained glass windows were made from "muff" glass: a blob of molten glass, called a "gather," was placed on the end of the blowpipe. Using metal tools and wooden forms soaked in water, the glass was blown into a cylinder. The ends of the cylinder would be cut off, and the cylinder cut open so it could be flattened.

"Crown" glass (see illustration) started similarly with a gather of glass on the blowpipe; after introducing a bubble of air, the pipe would be spun back and forth quickly, causing the glass to spread out into a thin disk. This could also be accomplished by placing the molten glass on a contraption like a potter's wheel. The circle of glass could be cut to fit into square windows, or used round. Crown glass windows are recognizable because of the concentric circles formed during the spinning. They usually also have a "bull's-eye": the thicker blob at the center of the spun circle.

You may hear of "cathedral glass." This is rolled glass: molten glass poured onto a metal table and rolled thin with a metal roller. It was sometimes even put through a pair of rollers. This technique has nothing to do with medieval cathedrals, having been developed in the mid-1830s.

Coloring the glass was done by adding copper oxide (green or bluish green), cobalt (deep blue), or gold (wine red and violet). (Modern glass produces red using copper.)

For stained glass windows to survive wind pressure, it needed to be at least 3mm (1/8") thick. The production of red required a concentration of added material such that a 3mm window had so much coloring that the red was very dark; it could be mistaken for black without a very strong light source. This prompted the development of "flashed glass": adhering a thin pane of red to a thicker pane of clear.

Before we leave the subject of old windows, I want to tackle a common talking point that I have heard many times: "Glass is a liquid that flows very slowly; the proof is that medieval windows are thicker on the bottom than the top!" Sure, maybe. But let's remember Occam's Razor: common sense would tell the architect that a pane of glass that is not of even thickness—not an unexpected outcome considering the imprecise methods of manufacture—would be more stable if you put the heavier end as the base.

Being able to color panes and pieces of glass allowed creators of windows to offer elaborate pictures, such as stories from the Bible or history. Tomorrow I'll share a story of Theophilus, who was a common theme for church windows in the 13th century.

Consanguinity

The word "consanguinity" comes from Latin consanguinitas ["blood relation"], and refers to having a close kinship with someone through a common ancestor. Laws of consanguinity—determining the degree of consanguinity allowed for marriage—varied from time to time and place to place

The early Catholic Church followed Roman civil law, which stated that couples within four degrees of consanguinity were forbidden to wed. This was determined by generations: you would count up the family tree to a common ancestor, and then down to the intended spouse. In the 800s this was changed to seven degrees by the church, and was determined by counting back seven generations. This meant that you could not marry if you had the same grandfather (or grandmother), great-grandfather, g-g-grandfather, etc., back seven generations. You could not marry a cousin, second-cousin, third-cousin, right up to seventh-cousin.

This made finding. spouse increasingly difficult, and dispensations by the church were becoming more and more frequent. The Fourth Lateran Council of 1215 decided to deal with this by pulling back so that fourth cousins could marry at will.

Which brings me to Canon 50 of the Fourth Lateran, where the above change is stated and defended. But here's the funny part. In order to make a change to the rules of consanguinity, the Canon begins by stating that human statutes change over time, and after all God Himself changed things in the New Testament from what had been decreed in the Old Testament. With this reasoning, they state the change in the rules, after which it is stated:

Since therefore the prohibition of conjugal union is restricted to the fourth degree, we wish that it remain so in perpetuum, notwithstanding the decrees already issued relative to this matter either by others or by ourselves [Canon 50]

So...statutes can change, and that's why we can change this one, but it better never change again!

And speaking of laws that have changed, they also made some laws concerning Jews, which we will look at next.

Medieval Architecture

7th c. Asturian Church of Santa Cristina de Lena, Spain

This will be a brief introduction to the styles of medieval architecture that existed over the centuries. They are given names to represent the eras, but keep in mind that there was no firm dividing line between the different eras. In order to compare apples to apples, we will look at church architecture for examples of the evolution of building styles.

Early Christian
Prior to a uniform style of architecture for churches, christian churches often simply appropriated pagan temples of worship. One of the most famous buildings of antiquity, the Parthenon, was converted to a christian church just before 600CE, becoming the Church of the Parthenos Maria [Greek: "Virgin Mary"]. A common style was the basilica [Greek "royal"], which was originally a large building for public gatherings. Basilicas had a long main aisle (the nave), supported by columns and flanked by side aisles. A wide area at one end, the apse, became the location of the altar. A basilica often had a dome. This basic floor plan became popular for churches, especially in the Eastern Empire. The most famous basilica is the Hagia Sophia [Greek: "Holy Wisdom"] in Istanbul (was Constantinople).

Pre-Romanesque
This term is often used to denote the collection of different styles that arose during certain dynasties or in different cultures, such as Merovingian, Carolingian, Ottonian, Asturian, Norse; it is a catch-all term that includes the Early Christian as well.

Romanesque
Romanesque is a modern term that describes the style that was prevalent in the 11th and 12th centuries throughout Europe. Brought to England by William the Conqueror, there we call it "Norman." Romanesque buildings are known by their massive stone structure with barrel vaults and round (or sometimes slightly pointed) arches. Tourists can experience Thanksgiving in a Romanesque building described here.

Gothic
Gothic architecture has appeared here. Its chief elements are soaring height, large glass windows allowing more light than previous styles, pointed arches, (often) flying buttresses to support the thin walls. The first church to combine several of these elements into the first truly "Gothic" church was the Abbey of St.-Denis. This style is what folk most often picture when they think of medieval churches.

About eight miles south of St.-Denis is the world's most recognizable Gothic cathedral, Notre Dame, which suffered from a devastating fire a couple weeks ago. I want to say something about that next.

The Tomb of the Three

The Shrine of the Three Kings

The Three Kings, or Magi, appear suddenly in the Gospel of Matthew and just as quickly disappear. That paucity of information on them did not, however, prevent Christendom from tracking them down and making relics out of them.

It is supposed that they were so moved by their experience in the Gospel that they converted to Christianity, either on their own when they returned to their home country or later in life when they first encountered one of the Apostles.

Marco Polo tells us that he was shown their tomb:

In Persia is the city of Saba, from which the Three Magi set out and in this city they are buried, in three very large and beautiful monuments, side by side. And above them there is a square building, beautifully kept. The bodies are still entire, with hair and beard remaining.

This must be untrue, however, since clearly they have relics that were kept originally in Constantinople, where they (along with countless other relics) were gathered by the Empress (later Saint) Helena. They were then offered to Bishop Eustorgius I of Milan by Constantine. It is the biography of Eustorgius that tells their history.

They stayed in Milan until Barbarossa took them and gave them to the Archbishop of Cologne, who built Cologne Cathedral to house their golden reliquary. The foundation stone of Cologne Cathedral was laid on 15 August, 1248.

Two Dates for Hungary

St. Stephen I, King of Hungary

Today's date is important in the history of medieval Hungary for two separate events decades apart.

First, it is the anniversary of the founding of Hungary as a kingdom in 1000 CE.

Originally it was just a principality in the Carpathian Basin of Central Europe, established just prior to 900 CE. The Hungarians were semi-nomadic, pushing westward in their search for more territory. The westward push was halted by Holy Roman Emperor Otto I at the Battle of Lechfeld* on 10 August 955. This convinced the Hungarians to settle down where they were.

There was internal strife in Hungary, however. When the ruling probe of Hungary, Géza, died, his brother Prince Koppány claimed the right to rule.  This claim was challenged by Géza's son, Vajk, who had been baptized a Christian and taken the name István (Stephen). Stephen wanted to turn Hungary into a European Christian kingdom. Koppány wanted to adhere to the traditional tribal ways. Forces loyal to each clashed in 998 where Stephen, whose Christian connection brought him the support of Bavaria, prevailed. Koppány was cut into 4 pieces and the parts sent throughout the kingdom as a sign of how troublemakers could expect to end up.

On Christmas Day 1000, Stephen I was crowned King of Hungary with a crown sent to him by Pope Sylvester II, establishing Hungary as a kingdom and country in its own right. Stephen turned out to be a great friend to the Roman Catholic Church, which leads us to the second reason this date is important for Hungary.

In 1083, Stephen I of Hungary was canonized as St. Stephen. He established the presence of the church in Hungary very throughly, with six bishoprics and three monasteries and penalties for not following Christianity. Hungary became a safe route for pilgrims traveling from Western Europe to the Holy Land.

Sadly, no children by him and his queen, Gisela of Bavaria (also known as Gisela of Hungary), survived, and upon his death there was civil war. His reign was a time of peace and a golden age for the spread of Christianity in Central Europe. His feast day, 20 August, is also a holiday in Hungary celebrating the founding of the country.


*Curiously, this was the second Battle pif Lechfeld; in the first, fought in 910, Hungarians defeated a Frankish army, but failed to establish dominance in the region.

Haloes

(photo credit Conor Hogan, 2014)

The picture here is medieval, although not from the Middle Ages. It's of the dome of Our Lady of Victory Church in Lackawanna, NY. It was taken and sent to me by someone who asked "Why is the halo triangular?" It turns out that there have been many ways over the centuries to express saintliness or godliness through the use of different styles of halo.

"Halo" comes from the Greek ἅλως, which means the "shining disk" of the sun or moon.* There have been many representations of haloes in art throughout the whole of art history. Sometimes they are represented as rays shining out from the head of a special person. Often they are circular. The circle may be portrayed as a disk behind the saint's head, looking like a large dinner plate floating so that his or her head is perfectly centered in the circle. In the Renaissance (see the top image here), when realistic perspective became a goal in art, the halo was often shown as if it were a perfectly round and flat disc that was attached to the back of the head, so that at an angle you would see it as an elliptical hat (check out the fancy hats here). Later, it was fashionable to portray it as a simple lighted "hoop," as we see in this 15th-century painting.

There were some special haloes, used in only certain circumstances. Members of the Holy Trinity could be seen with a halo that had three rays (or sets of three lines) extending from the head to the circumference. We see that in the diagram to the right. A halo made of stars was used only for the Blessed Virgin Mary (here is a sample, connecting her to the EU flag), because of the woman whose head was surrounded by 12 stars mentioned in the Book of Revelation who gives birth to the child who was to rule all nations.

Which leaves the triangle. The triangle also represented the Trinity, but was used solely for depicting God the Father. This was perhaps because the triangle is the obvious symbol for the Trinity. It could be because God the Father rules in Heaven, and "heaven" or the area above the earth was sometimes represented symbolically as a triangle. Earth's symbol was a square, due to the four cardinal directions and the "four corners of the earth," and if you look from one horizon to straight up and then down to the far horizon, you have drawn a triangle with your eyes.

So, the church in Lackawanna, NY, drew from some old symbolism for the depiction of God on the dome; clearly, it was not built by iconoclasts.

*You can see examples of the meteorological phenomena that inspired the word here.

My Lips Are Sealed

Confidentiality is expected in many relationships: doctor-patient, lawyer-client, ... and priest-penitent. The so-called "Seal of the Confessional" is the practice/policy of priests to protect the pronouncements of penitents.

The Decretum Gratiani ["Decrees of Gratian"] is a collection of canon laws published by the jurist Johannes Gratian c.1150. It includes the line "Let the priest who dares to make known the sins of his penitent be deposed."

We are not sure when this idea was first expressed, but the Fourth Lateran Council of 1215, which  laid down rules for the whole Catholic Church, explained the practice thusly:

Let the priest absolutely beware that he does not by word or sign or by any manner whatever in any way betray the sinner: but if he should happen to need wiser counsel let him cautiously seek the same without any mention of person. For whoever shall dare to reveal a sin disclosed to him in the tribunal of penance we decree that he shall be not only deposed from the priestly office but that he shall also be sent into the confinement of a monastery to do perpetual penance.

No explanation is given for this secrecy, but an English jurist in the 1400s, William Lyndwood, explains that the sacrament involving confession practically by definition requires that the "secret" be kept quiet. Even the secular authorities recognize this relationship. A priest may suggest to a confessed criminal that he turn himself over to the courts, but the courts do not compel a priest to reveal what he knows.

Well, not all secular authorities. In March 1393, John of Nepomuk (born c.1345) was tortured and thrown into the river by King Wenceslaus IV (who was otherwise fairly tolerant). Wenceslaus was angry with him because he was the Confessor to Wenceslaus' wife, the Queen of Bohemia, and would not tell her husband what she talked about. John was canonized as Saint John of Nepomuk, and is considered the first martyr because of the Seal of the Confessional and the patron saint against false witness.

Richard's Lionheart

Box that held Richard's heart. The inscription reads:
"Here is the heart of Richard, King of England." 

Once Richard the Lionheart died from a crossbow bolt that was removed by a clumsy surgeon, the debate over appropriate interment began. Like saints, "There's such divinity doth hedge a king" (to borrow a phrase from Shakespeare*) that the body is special, and many people for whom he was their lord would want his memorial to be in their territory. His body was sent to Fontevraud Abbey to be interred near the body of his father, King Henry II. (See the picture in the post linked to above.)

But that was just his body.

Supposedly, on his deathbed he told his mother that he wanted his heart to go to Rouen, where it was placed in the Cathedral of Notre Dame. Rouen was the base for English forces in France at the time. His other internal organs were removed and buried in Chalus, where he died.

Over time, the location of the heart and entrails were lost, but an excavation at Notre Dame in 1838 uncovered a lead box inscribed with "Here is the heart of Richard, King of England."

Technically, the "heart" doesn't exist: 800 years has reduced it to dust, but that dust contains clues to 12th century embalming techniques. A 2006 "autopsy" was performed to find out what it could about the heart. It found several components:

• Human proteins associated with cardiac muscle
• Fragments of linen (the heart was probably wrapped in it)
• Some lead and tin (probably leached into the dust from the box)  and mercury (used during embalming)
• Pollens: pine, oak, poplar, plantain, bellflower (in the air when he died, so probably incidental)
• Myrtle, daisy, mint (not in bloom in spring, and probably used during embalming to give a nice aroma)
• Frankincense (used for embalming and symbolically because of the Three Wise Men's gifts)



The remains as they look today, in a crystal container.

• Calcium (probably from lime used to preserve the heart)

Of interest to historians is the elements found that can only be accounted for by attempts to embalm/preserve the heart. The Church frowned on embalming, because it was known to be a pagan practice.

The shoebox-sized reliquary, and the crystal box that contains the remains of the heart of Richard, now sit in the Museum of Natural History in Rouen.

*Hamlet, Act IV, Scene 5, line 98

The New Church

Explanation of cross-in-square from this fascinating site.

Today is May Day, and the anniversary of the consecration of the Nea Ekklesia [Greek: "New Church"] in 880.

It was built by Emperor Basil I the Macedonian (c.830 - 886). Although he started as a peasant, he advanced politically until he was in a position to usurp the throne of Emperor Michael III in 867. He set out to create a new golden age of Byzantine art, and he wound up being considered one of the greatest Byzantine emperors. In his desire to reproduce the glory of the reign of Justinian I, he started a building campaign. The pinnacle of this campaign was the Nea Ekklesia, which he considered his answer to the magnificent Hagia Sophia.

One of the things that made it "new" was the floor plan, something called "cross-in-square." Typical churches before that time—and, truthfully, after that time as well—were laid out like a cross, longer than they were wide. Nea Ekklesia broke that mold. Byzantine architecture had already shown a preference and flair for domes, and mounting them on a square base with a feature called a pendentive. Nea Ekklesia was a new style that filled out the cross shape by centering it in a square and putting several domes over the four additional sections. (See the illustration above for an example of a standard cross-in-square.)

As important as the Nea was, it was eventually turned into a monastery (called, perhaps predictably, "New Monastery") in the 11th century. After the Ottomans conquered the Byzantine Empire in 1453, the building was used to store gunpowder. It was destroyed in 1490 when it was struck by lightning.

The Limits of Canon Law

Since I've been looking into canon law lately (here and here), I thought I would share an interesting facet of Medieval era canon law: its self-imposed limits.

Although canon law borrowed a great deal from the jurists and civil law decisions of the Classical Era, it was grounded in church teachings. Therefore, from early jurists up until at least 1200, it was agreed that canon law did not apply to non-Christians. The rules of consanguinity adhered to by the church, for instance, forbidding the marriage of those who were related too closely by blood or legal ties (such as in-laws), did not apply to Jews or pagans. Nor was it legal for Jews or pagans to be made to tithe or be baptized against their will.

Of course, Christianity's goal was to spread the Gospel and convert the world, so it would be only a matter of time (it was thought) before canon law would apply to everyone. (The second post ever on DailyMedieval was about the Domus Conversorum, established in 1232 in England by Henry III to provide a home and daily stipend for Jews who wished to convert to Christianity, making their decision an easy one.)

Christianity ran into an unexpected obstacle to its ultimate goal, however, especially during the era of the Crusades. Whereas Jews were found in small and non-violent communities, Muslims were far more numerous and warlike; moreover, they were on their own mission to convert the world. This led—outside of the Crusades themselves—to border skirmishes where newly acquired Middle East Christian territories brushed up against Muslim lands.

The debate that followed will be looked at in the next post.

Autumnal Equinox Lightshow

Holy Trinity Church in Barsham, Suffolk

The equinox, from Latin aequinoctium (the time of equal days and nights), the day twice each year when the amount of daylight and darkness equalizes. We are used to marking the solstices, because the longest day of sunlight and the shortest day in winter carry real-life significance for us. But the equinoxes in spring and fall rarely get the same attention.

But in Suffolk, England, in Holy Trinity Church in the tiny town of Barsham, the equinoxes have provided a special show since the Middle Ages—if one knew where to look.

To be truthful, the "special show" was forgotten for a long time because of some changes. Holy Trinity is an early church, using stone from Caen that tells us it was built post-1066, although the round tower is by many considered to be an earlier Saxon style. The church suffered when Henry VIII broke with Rome and made changes consistent with the new Anglican Church. A rood screen, an ornate partition between the main part of the church and the nave behind the altar, was torn down, and the large crucifix that hung on it was eliminated. In 1870, however, the vicar of Holy Trinity decided to rebuild the rood screen and restore the crucifix to the same spot it hung in centuries earlier. Unfortunately, the vicar also decided to hang a large painting over a narrow west window whose significance he did not realize.

On the equinoxes, light strikes the crucifix for 4 minutes

Then, in 1979, a fire destroyed the nave roof. During the reconstruction, someone took the painting down. Years later, during a mass at dusk on the autumnal equinox, someone saw it. Now that the church was restored to its original configuration, the narrow western window throws a shaft of light for 4 minutes each equinox—and only on the equinox—right onto the crucifix near the top of the rood screen.

It was easy to miss for several years: it doesn't show when there is cloud cover at twilight, and you need to be looking up. Now that the phenomenon has been re-discovered, however, the church is filled each equinox by people waiting to see the fascinating result of an unknown medieval architect who decided to use light to illuminate his art.

Mendicants—Grey

St. Francis of Assisi

The Mendicant Orders were a 13th century movement that stirred up great controversy in the Middle Ages. Called so from the Latin verb mendicare (to beg), they rejected wealth and possessions in order to emulate their view of the ideal Christian life.

The first group that earned the title "mendicant" was founded by St. Francis of Assisi (1181-1226). Deciding that a life without material possessions was more godly, he created a group that he called the Ordo Fratrum Minorum. Literally, this means Order of Minor Brothers—Francis himself referred to his members as fraticelli, "little brothers"—but from Latin frater through French frere the word became friar to denote these men. Therefore, it is usually now officially called (in English) the Order of the Friars Minor, or the Grey Friars, although colloquially they are called simply Franciscans. His first step was to gather 12 disciples; then he presented his group to Pope Innocent III for official recognition. Innocent was reticent at first, and wanted Francis to return when his group was larger and better established, but (supposedly) he had a dream in which he saw Francis supporting the Basilica of St. John Lateran, which is the Pope's "seat" in his role as Bishop of Rome. Innocent accepted that Francis would support the Church, so he approved the new Order. He had the men tonsured; ordained or not (and Francis never was, another reason that they were "minor" brothers), tonsuring was a mark of their Church connection, and was a way to say "you're part of the team now, so stick with approved doctrine!"

Francis wrote a set of rules that included this:

And let those who have promised obedience take one tunic with a hood, and let those who wish it have another without a hood. And those who must may wear shoes. All the brothers are to wear inexpensive clothing, and they can use sackcloth and other material to mend it with God's blessing.

Maybe it was a dissatisfaction with the growing wealth and opulence of the church, or a desire to do something toward Salvation that didn't require traveling on Crusade, or merely the eloquence of the messengers and the attraction of the message, but the Order grew quickly. Franciscans traveled to preach in England, France, Spain, Hungary; Francis went to Egypt, but returned to make sure the message of the Friars Minor was not being diluted by too many new ideas. Still, he did not feel the need to "rule" his Order: in 1220, he resigned his position as its head, leaving it to Peter of Cattaneo (who died in 1221) and then Elias of Cortona (who, with Franciscan humility, always signed his name "Brother Elias, sinner).

St. Clare of Assisi

He also formed, with St. Clare of Assisi, a sister order; as well as the Third Order of St. Francis for lay people who wish to live as nearly as possible a godly life while still being part of the world.

The nice thing about being a saintly person and creating your own fan club while alive is that, upon your death, your memory is likely to spur people to action. Elias of Cortona immediately started to raise funds for building a church to Francis in Assisi, and labored to get him canonized—which he was, less than than 2 years after his death, by Pope Gregory IX. The new church was far enough along by June 1230 to receive Francis' body.

The Mendicant Orders, and the Franciscans especially, would become involved in serious debates in the future over whether priests or the Church should own property. Those arguments are what provided Umberto Eco with the setting for his best-selling first novel, The Name of the Rose.

Nicholas of Cusa: Ecumenist

After the Fall of Constantinople in 1453 to the Turks, Nicholas of Cusa (c.1400-1464) wrote De pace fidei (On the Peace of Faith), in which he envisioned a conference in Heaven of representatives of all religions, including Islam and Hussites (the followers of Jan Hus were one of the first Christian Protestant movements, over a century before Luther).

The imaginary conference concluded that it was possible to have a single unified religion, even if it manifests in many different versions with separate practices. After all, the Roman Catholic Church had co-existed with the Eastern Church for centuries; the Eastern Church may not have recognized the authority of the Pope over the East, but the East and West did consider themselves two parts of the same faith.

Nicholas clearly prefers and exalts Christianity, but is willing to find accord with others. He had written Cribratio Alchorani (Sifting the Koran), which acknowledges that Islam and Judaism still possess seeds of the truth. Let me be clear: Nicholas doesn't treat Islam or Judaism as equals with Christianity—in 1451 he had used his authority as a bishop to require Jews in Arnhem to wear badges, and he had imposed other restrictions on Jews that were later lifted by Pope Nicholas V. The fact, however, that a well-known Catholic prelate and respected theologian could write on and publish such tolerant ideas was remarkable for the time.