Theories of Atonement

Even during all the political troubles that Anselm of Bec was having with William Rufus because of Anselm's role as Archbishop of Canterbury, he was proving himself to be one of the sharpest minds of his century regarding theological writing. The prime example of this is the treatise he called Cur Deus Homo, or "Why God Human?" (sometimes translated for clarity sake as "Why God Became a Man). In it, he finally came up with a satisfactory explanation for the "mechanics" of how Christ's crucifixion and resurrection wiped out the effect of Adam's original sin and provided salvation for all mankind.

The early Church fathers had struggled with the topic of atonement and how it worked theologically. Since Adam, no human being could go to Heaven; they were all trapped in Hell with the Devil/Satan/Lucifer (and those were three different entities who were conflated over time, but I'm not going to get into that).

One idea was the "ransom theory of atonement." Augustine of Hippo explained it thusly:

The Redeemer came and the deceiver was overcome. What did our Redeemer do to our Captor? In payment for us He set the trap, His Cross, with His blood for bait. He [Satan] could indeed shed that blood; but he deserved not to drink it. By shedding the blood of One who was not his debtor, he was forced to release his debtors

The idea was that Satan could hold God's creations as captives and they needed ransoming, suggesting that Satan therefore had "rights" of ownership that had to be satisfied. This understandably bothered some people. Why didn't God just overpower Satan and take His people?

Irenaeus in the 1st century talked about the "recapitulation theory of atonement." In it, Jesus was a second Adam, succeeding where Adam had fallen. So Christ's life is like a "do over" of some kind, and humanity is re-set back to the ability to achieve salvation through free will, not stuck because of Adam's failure. Why didn't God just forgive the original sin, if he was going to forgive it after Christ went through those motions?

There is also the "penal substitution theory." This is a much later development, and promoted by Martin Luther during the Reformation. The penal substitution theory of atonement says that Christ, having voluntarily given himself up as a sacrifice, "took the hit" in place of sinners. This treated Christ as a "whipping boy," which was a profession historically in which a boy would be raised alongside a prince and made to suffer corporal punishment when the prince was a bad boy, because it wasn't appropriate to beat a prince. (It was hoped that the prince, seeing the harsh punishment meted out, would feel bad and reform his ways.) "He died for your sins" is oft quoted in this context, especially by Protestant groups.

Anselm was not comfortable that the ideas of "ransom" or "recapitulation" were proper solutions, and so decided he needed to offer his own explanation. He was influenced by his time, specifically (as Irenaeus and Augustine would not have been) by the by-then-well-developed feudal system. Anselm's solution is called the "satisfaction theory of atonement." I'll explain it tomorrow.

Paganism and Christianity, Part 3

When Alaric and the Goths sacked Rome in the first years of the 5th century, the empire was shocked out of complacency. St. Jerome said “the city which had taken the whole world was itself taken.”

Support from emperors such as Theodosius had made Rome the center of Christian hopes for a bright future. Abandonment of the Greco-Roman pantheon and the growing Christian presence made many blame Christianity for Rome's apparent weakness. Augustine of Hippo penned a response to the criticism, creating the first work of cultural criticism, De civitate Dei contra paganos, "On the City of God Against the Pagans." It is seen as a contrast between two societies: the corrupt and worldly City of Man and the higher-minded City of God. There was more to it than that, however.

He points out that Rome had plenty of troubles (like the sack of Rome in 387 by the Gauls) that were not prevented by the previous gods, and that good and bad things happen to everyone. He sympathizes with the women who were raped during the Goths' attack. He also points out that Roman citizens—pagan and Christian alike—took refuge in Christian churches. (They were safe there: Goths were Christians, though Arian Christian.) He argued that eternal life was not available through the Roman gods, and that only Jesus could provide safety from demons. He points out that even a prolific pagan Roman philosopher, Varro, appreciated some of the tenets of Judaism over Roman paganism.

The two cities were "created" when the good and bad angels were separated. He traces the histories of the two cities from Noah to Abraham to Samuel and David. He also addressed the topic of the Jews, saying that they are scattered throughout the world to provide testimony of the Old Testament (which, of course, foreshadows Jesus).

Next time we'll look at Christian art and how paganism contributed to it.

Paganism and Christianity, Part 2

The Emperor Theodosius I (347 - 395) embraced Christianity, so much so that he was ruled by Bishop Ambrose over the Massacre at Thessalonica (the illustration shows Ambrose preventing Theodosius from entering church to receive the Eucharist), and his Edict of Thessalonica tried to establish consistency of Christian beliefs in the Byzantine Empire, specifically by settling on the form of the Nicene Creed.

Along with this push for consistency from Theodosius (called "the Great") came a shift away from tolerating all religions. Anti-pagan laws existed (that is, those religions that did not follow the Greco-Roman gods), but there is no record of them actually being enforced. Theodosius declared Nicene Christianity the official religion of the empire, but this was mostly an attempt to stamp out the "heresy" of Arianism.

Animal sacrifice was a chief target of Christians' demand for legal changes. Altars for blood sacrifice—a central practice of pagan ritual since pre-history—were routinely smashed. Eliminating it was a primary goal of Christians who were gaining political influence. This change had started prior to Theodosius: the Emperor Julian (reigned 360-363) was pagan, but when he restored pagan altars in Antioch, Christians destroyed them again. Christians were still a minority, but they were making themselves known.

Theodosius did not want open rebellion against his decisions, so pagan temples were allowed to remain open, and worship could take place. Pagan holidays could be celebrated, but they were no longer days off from work. Animal sacrifice and divination were banned. Theodosius' praetorian prefect, Maternus Cynegius, took it upon himself to vandalize pagan shrines in the eastern provinces. When he died, however, Theodosius replaced him with a moderate pagan who offered more protection to pagan temples. The emperor also named pagans in the senate to important administrative posts.

Not all temples were destroyed; it is likely that some were converted to churches. Modern archaeology has found evidence of 120 churches that started as pagan temples. Of course, 120 out of the thousands that would have existed in the empire is not a significant percentage.

The sack of Rome by Visigoths in 410 was a shocking moment for the empire, and pagans blamed the shift to Christianity as the source of a weakened empire. This prompted Augustine of Hippo to write the work we know as The City of God, except that was not what he called it. Augustine called it De civitate Dei contra paganos, "On the City of God Against the Pagans," which would set the tone of anti-pagan thought for centuries. What he meant by that will be tomorrow's post.

The First Excommunicate

Priscillian (c.340 - 385) was a good enough theologian that he was made Bishop of Ávila Spain in 380, but controversial enough that he had many enemies among his fellow bishops. His preaching of a life of strict asceticism—including fasting on Sundays and Christmas, avoiding meat and wine, celibacy, etc.—especially annoyed Bishop Hyginus of Corduba (Cordova) and Bishop Hydatius of Augusta Emerita (Mérida, Spain), who accused his ideas of being Gnostic.

In fact, Priscillian did get his ideas from Marcus, a native of Memphis in Egypt, who came to Spain and taught Gnostic theories. We don't know if Marcus and Priscillian had direct contact, but apparently Priscillian was converted by two of Marcus' followers, a woman named Agape and a rhetorician named Helpidius. Priscillian's rhetorical gifts helped convert others to take an oath to follow his lifestyle, including a couple bishops, Instantius and Salvianus.

A synod of 380 held by Hyginus and Hydatius pronounced Priscillian, Helpidius, Salvianus, and Instantius as rejected from the faith of Christianity. This is the first known example of excommunication in the Christian church. A Bishop Ithacius of Ossonoba (Faro, Portugal) was given the task of making the heretics mend their ways. He failed, and this was the motivation for Instantius and Salvianus to defy the synod and elevate Priscillian to bishop.

In retaliation, Ithacius appealed to Roman Emperor Gratian, who had recently along with Theodosius issued the Edict of Thessalonica, making Nicene (Catholic) Christianity the only approved form in the Roman Empire. Gratian deprived the Priscillianists of their churches and sent them into exile. The persecuted bishops decided to go to Rome and appeal to Pope Damasus I who, like them, was from Iberia. Damasus denied them an audience, however, so they went to Milan to appeal to the popular St. Ambrose, who had a reputation for standing up to the emperor, but he likewise would not meet with them.

Their next step was bribery at the Imperial Court, which did work: they got their churches back and the exile lifted. They also got Ithacius exiled from Iberia; Ithacius appealed to Gratian, but before he could get help, Gratian was killed and Magnus Maximus became emperor. Maximus wanted to have the orthodox bishops on his side, so he called for a synod in Bordeaux in 384 during which Ithacius was so vehement in his condemnation of Priscillian et alia that St. Martin of Tours got involved, annoyed that what he considered an ecclesiastical issue was being dealt with by a secular authority. Martin got the emperor to agree that the synod would not result in shedding blood.

Martin left the synod, however, and the emperor's prefect Evodius was appointed judge in the case. Evodius decreed that Priscillian and the others were guilty of practicing magic (possibly because of the Gnostic origins of Priscillianism), and the Priscillianists were condemned to death. Priscillian may well be the first excommunication and the first execution for heresy.*

Priscillianism was not done with, however. St. Martin returned to the emperor and stopped him from sending military to Iberia to exterminate the heretics they would find.Ambrose sternly denounced the handling and result of the situation.Some of the Gallican bishops denounced Ithacius and his behavior. A synod of Iberian bishops eventually deposed Ithacius; Hydatius was compelled to resign.

The executions (some would say martyrdom, of course) caused Priscillianism to grow. A synod in 400 in Toledo actually reconciled some Priscillianist bishops to the Church, one of whom wrote a moral treatise from the Priscillianist viewpoint. The advance of the Vandals into Iberia helped spread Priscillianism as the adherents fled before the invaders. Attempts by Augustine and Pope Leo I to suppress the movement failed. It took the 561 First Council of Braga that specifically targeted its doctrines to get it to die out.

So what was so dangerous about Gnostic ideas? Let's talk about that next time.

*And now I have fulfilled the promise ibn the footnote of that post.

Prosper of Aquitaine

Much of the history of the second half of the 5th century is known to us because of a disciple of Augustine of Hippo named Prosper. Born about 390 CE in the Roman province of Aquitaine, the Gothic invasions of Gaul drove him to Marseilles in 417. By 429 he was corresponding with Augustine, and in 431 went to Rome to speak to Pope Celestine I on behalf of Augustine.

From that point Prosper appears in no records until 440, when he is a secretary in the papacy of Leo I. He never took orders, but he was thoroughly involved in religious institutions.  He wrote De vocatione omnium gentium ("The Call of all Nations"), in which he urges all Gentiles to embrace Augustine's idea of God's Grace. He wrote a 1000-line poem in which he attacked Pelagianism.

Prosper left us the Epitoma Chronicon ("Ultimate History"), a continuation of a history by St. Jerome, in which he covers the Belgian controversy and world history. He first composed it in 443, but released several subsequent editions with updates. The final edition was in 455 and covers the death of Valentinian III, which is traditionally given as the year of Prosper's death. (The historian Marcellinus Comes mentions Prosper in the year 463, but Marcellinus was in Constantinople and was not an eyewitness to events in the Western Empire.)

It is Prosper who tells us that, when the Vandals approached Rome to sack it in 455, Pope Leo the Great met with their leader, Genseric, to request that he refrain from burning and killing, but content himself with pillaging.

Prosper's other focus, besides Pelagianism, was the shameful behavior of certain Roman generals, such as Magnus Maximus:

Maximus was made emperor in Britain in an uprising of the soldiery. He soon crossed to Gaul. Gratian was defeated at Paris owing to the treason of Merobaudes the magister militium, and was captured in flight at Lyon and killed. Maximus made his son Victor his colleague in power.

The tyrant Maximus, despoiled of his royal garments by the emperors Valentinian and Theodosius at the third milestone from Aquileia, was called forth to judgement and condemned to death. In the same year his son Victor was killed by Comes Arbogast in Gaul.

Prosper is also our chief source for the details of the Vandal invasion in Europe and North Africa. He blames the general Castinus for losing against the Vandals in Spain, allowing them to conquer the province of North Africa and leading to the death of St. Augustine. (Of course, Augustine was 75 at the time of his death, so it is not quite fair to blame the Vandals.)

Among other writings of his were the Sententia ("Sentences"), 392 maxims supporting the writings of Augustine, and Epigrammata ("Epigrams"), 106 short verses drawn from other sources. The Epigrammata exist in 180 manuscripts from the Middle Ages.

But why did Prosper have to go to Rome to speak to the pope about Augustine? Wasn't Augustine one of the respected fathers of the Church? Let's look at Celestine tomorrow and see why that might have been.

Fighting the Vandals, Part 1

The Germanic tribe the Vandals made their way across Europe, into the Iberian Peninsula, and then to North Africa. There they clashed with a Roman general, Bonifacius, who after a defeat on the Numidian border barricaded himself in the city of Hippo Regius. The Vandals, led by Genseric, laid siege to Hippo Regius. This was in May of 430CE.

Hippo Regius (on the coast of what is now Algeria) had a Christian bishopric, established about 250. It was significant enough that North African church councils and synods were held there. At the time of the siege, its most famous bishop and resident was Augustine. He would have been deeply dismayed at the approach of the Vandals, who were followers of Arianism. He and the residents feared death or forced conversion if the Vandals captured the city. He was 75 years old when the siege began, so it is not surprising that he died during it, on 28 August 430.

His age and poor health were no doubt exacerbated by the lack of food. Since the siege started in May, the fields around the city were untended and supplies of grain dwindled. News of Augustine's death drew the attention of Galla Placidia, regent of the Western Roman Empire. Galla Placidia was the daughter of Emperor Theodosius I, who died in 395. Next in line was her son, Valentinian III, who was only 11 in 430, making her regent during his minority.

The North African province was an important source of grain for the empire, and Galla realized something had to be done. Her nephew, Theodosius II, was ruler of the Eastern Empire in Constantinople. She asked him to send an army to join her Italian forces to deal with the Vandals. It was led by General Aspar.

The lack of food not only weakened the city, it was also affecting Genseric's army: in summer of 431 he left Hippo. This gave General Bonifacius the chance to leave Hippo for Carthage and join Aspar. In the summer of 432, Genseric's army met the joint force of Bonifacius and Aspar and, history repeating, defeated them. Aspar eventually negotiated a treaty with Genseric, whereby the Vandals would keep Mauretania and the western part of Numidia. Genseric made Hippo his capital.

On 19 )October 439, while the citizens of Carthage were all at the hippodrome for a racing event, Genseric entered the city without opposition and took control. Carthage became his new capital, and he started calling himself King of the Vandals and Alans (an Iranian nomadic people who had been with the Vandals in their migration across Europe and Africa).

Valentinian III was now emperor in his own right, and the Vandals were his problem, especially when Genseric started looting up and down the Mediterranean. We shall look at attempts to counter the Vandals tomorrow. And what about Attila the Hun?

Who Were The Vandals?

Isidore of Seville (c.560 - 636) wrote Historia de regibus Gothorum, Vandalorum et Suevorum ("History of the Kings of the Goths, Vandals and Suevi"). From him we learn about some of the Germanic peoples that existed in the 7th century. They were noted earlier by Pliny the Elder, who used the term Vandilii generically for a lot of the Germanic tribes, as did Tacitus.

The Vandals appear on the "world stage" in 405CE when, moving long the Danube, they are stopped in their westward expansion by the early Franks. Gregory of Tours, with typical (we assume) medieval historian literary license, tells us that the ensuing Vandal-Frankish War resulted in the death of 20,000 Vandals, including their current king Godigisel. Godigisel's eldest son, Gunderic, then led the Vandals over the next few years into Gaul and thence to Iberia. In fact, some theorize that the term Al-Andalus used by the Umayyad rulers of Iberia from c.715 on may be an Arabism based on the word "Vandal."

Their swift advance through established kingdoms turned their name synonymous with ruthless destruction of anything good and beautiful.

They went into North Africa in 429, then led by Gunderic's half-brother Genseric, when the Visigoths entered the Iberian Peninsula. Genseric ruled the Vandals until 477, during which time he controlled the Roman province in Africa, as well as Sicily, Corsica, Sardinia, Malta, and the Balearic Islands Mallorca, Ibiza, etc.). Procopius, whose accuracy of reporting gave the West the secret of silk, wrote that the Vandals were actually invited to North Africa by the Roman general Bonifacius—unlikely, since he had previously fought them and was defeated by them again and again in the years to follow.

At one of these conflicts, a defeated Bonifacius barricaded himself and army inside Hippo Regius ("Royal Hippo" was so-called because it was one of the residences of Numidian kings). One of its most famous citizens, named for the place, was living there at the time; then he died, and the death of St. Augustine of Hippo was a turning point for the Western Roman Empire. Something had to be done about the Vandals in North Africa. I'll tell you what they did tomorrow.

Henry's Statute of Jewry

St. Augustine of Hippo (354 - 430) was one of the most influential writers in Christianity in its first few centuries. He believed that Jews should be tolerated by Christians because God chose them for a special purpose. Through the years, however, hostility to the Jews grew; they were made scapegoats for problems and accused of many horrible acts.

Despite this hostility, Jews created communities all over the world. The illustration shows Jewish communities in medieval England. King Henry III instituted repressive laws intended to segregate and oppress Jews. The Statute of Jewry in 1253 had 13 articles, some of which are listed here:

Article One: Jews could live in England provided that they serve the king in some manner. (This might include financial support or civil service.)

Article Two stated that no new synagogues could be constructed.

Article Three: Jews in synagogues must keep their voices low while praying so that no one else could hear them.

Article Four: Jews must donate money to their local Christian church.

Article Five banned Christians from working for Jews or living in Jews' houses.

Article Six banned Jews from eating meat during Lent.

Article Seven: Jews may not publicly dispute the Christian faith.

Article Eight banned romantic relations between Christians and Jews.

Contemporary historian Matthew Paris followed the Augustinian view of Jews, and did not approve of Henry's policies regarding them, which mirrored the papal view at the time (Innocent IV). Through Paris we discover that antipathy toward the Jews was not universal. His tolerant attitude is tested by relating incidents of supposed "blood libel" (the notion that Jews killed Christians in order to use their blood in Jewish rituals), but he has sympathy for their oppression and the financial extortion brought upon them by kings and others who saw Jews as a source of easy money. Through Matthew Paris we can see that the medieval attitude toward Jews was not monolithic.

I want to relate another article of the Statute, however, Article Nine. Article Nine commanded every Jew to wear a badge conspicuously. The yellow Star of David forced upon Jews in Germany during World War II is a familiar image. It turns out, however, that the "yellow badge" has a long history stretching back even before Henry III, but that's a story for tomorrow.

Dog-headedness

Folklores from all over the world include tales of dog-headed humanoids. The phenomenon is referred to as cynocephaly, from the Greek words for "dog" and "head."

The Greeks may have been influenced by Egyptian gods with canine heads, and not just the jackal-headed Anubis; Wepwawet (originally a war deity) had a wolf head, and Duamutef (a son of Horus) had a jackal's head. The Greek physician Ctesias wrote two books in the 5th century BCE, Indica and Persica, about Persian and Indian lands, of a tribe of Cynocephali:

They speak no language, but bark like dogs, and in this manner make themselves understood by each other. Their teeth are larger than those of dogs, their nails like those of these animals, but longer and rounder. They inhabit the mountains as far as the river Indus. Their complexion is swarthy. They are extremely just, like the rest of the Indians with whom they associate. They understand the Indian language but are unable to converse, only barking or making signs with their hands and fingers by way of reply... They live on raw meat. They number about 120,000.

Other Ancient Greek writers including Herodotus, likely influenced by Ctesias, reinforced this knowledge, encouraging the Middle Ages to accept that there were strange races living beyond Europe. (Greek writers also say there was a type of monkey that was cynocephalic; we now assume they had seen baboons.)

With this "knowledge" in hand, it was easy to accept that Cynocephali would appear in other accounts, such as that of two dog-headed saints, Ahrakas and Augani, who served the Coptic Saint Mercurius (3rd century).

The best-known dog-headed personage was St. Christopher, who was sometimes depicted in the Eastern Orthodox tradition as dog-headed. This was likely a misunderstanding of an expanded history for him that referred to him as a Canaanite; this was mis-read as "canine-ish" and resulted in him being portrayed as a Cynocephalus who came from their tribe.

St. Augustine of Hippo in his The City of God addressed the topic of the Cynocephali. He accepted that they might not exist, but if they did exist, were the human (which to him meant mortal and rational). If they were both mortal and rational, then they were human, and therefore could have come from nowhere but a line of descendants from Adam.

Ratramnus (died c.868), a Frankish theologian, was concerned about the Cynocephali, because if they were human, then it was obligatory to bring Christianity to them. 

Even Marco Polo mentions them:

Angamanain is a very large Island. The people are without a king and are Idolaters, and no better than wild beasts. And I assure you all the men of this Island of Angamanain have heads like dogs, and teeth and eyes likewise; in fact, in the face they are all just like big mastiff dogs! They have a quantity of spices; but they are a most cruel generation, and eat everybody that they can catch, if not of their own race.

The one medieval writer who personally encountered anything approaching Cynocephali was Ibn Battuta (who was mentioned in passing a week ago regarding the Richest Man of All Time):

Fifteen days after leaving Sunaridwan we reached the country of the Barahnakar, whose mouths are like those of dogs. This tribe is a rabble, professing neither the religion of the Hindus nor any other. They live in reed huts roofed with grasses on the seashore, and have abundant banana, areca, and betel trees. Their men are shaped like ourselves, except that their mouths are shaped like those of dogs; this is not the case with their womenfolk, however, who are endowed with surpassing beauty.

Between India and Sumatra is a tribe, the Mentawai, who practice the art of tooth sharpening. He may have encountered them.

Dog-headed humanoids were widespread in literature, mentioned in the Nowell Codex (that contains Beowulf); in a Welsh poem where King Arthur fights them in Edinburgh; lamented at by Charlemagne (in his biography) that he never had a chance to go to war against such a foe; in a Flemish Dominican's popular encyclopedic work corroborating their existence; and many more examples. After the European discovery of the continents west of the Atlantic Ocean, assumptions that the Cynocephali would be found were renewed.

But enough of that. Lots of options to move on from here, but I want to explore that Flemish Dominican who wrote some works that became very popular, based on the number of surviving manuscripts. Next time we will talk about Thomas of Cantimpré.

Predestination

Ephesians 1:11 says "In him we have obtained an inheritance, having been predestined according to the purpose of him who works all things according to the counsel of his will." The Old and New Testaments as well have other passages that declare God's will as the driving force behind all actions and events.

Augustine of Hippo (354 - 430 CE) was fine with this. He maintained that God had foreknowledge of whether individuals would deserve heaven or hell. If God is omniscient, and omniscience includes knowledge of what is to come, then God knows what people will do. He also explained the sin of Pride as thinking that we are the ones who choose God rather than God's grace that empowers the initial act of faith. Some scholars claim that Augustine believed in "double predestination," the term that is used to explain that God chooses those who will be saved and those who will be damned.

(This seems to argue against the doctrine of Free Will, that human beings choose to do good or do bad, and hence are responsible for the ultimate fate of their souls. In my (Roman Catholic) youth, we were taught that God's knowledge does not "lock us in" to a certain path. It was explained as foreordination: God simply knows ahead of time the choices we will make.)

Of the three main Jewish sects in the 1st century CE, the Romano-Jewish historian Josephus (c.37 - c.100) wrote that the Sadducees did not have any thoughts on predestination, but the Essenes and Pharisees felt God's providence ordered all human events. The Pharisees still believed that man could choose between right and wrong. We don't know how scholarly an interpretation this was by Josephus.

Pope Clement I (d.99 CE) wrote a letter to the Corinthians in which he appeared to express a predestinarian view of salvation.

Valentinus (c.100 - c.180 CE) believed it depended on what kind of nature you were born with, either good or bad or a mix of the two. A person born with good nature will be saved, with a bad nature will never be saved, with a mixture can go either way.

St. Irenaeus believed Valentinus' view was unfair, and that humans were free to choose salvation or not.

After Augustine, most arguments for or against predestination were based on agreeing with or refuting his explanations.

When the Middle Ages got well and truly underway, people like Gottschalk of Orbais (c.808 - 868) believed in the above mentioned double predestination. (I will say more about him tomorrow.)

Thomas Aquinas believed in free will, but also taught that God predestines certain people to a special closeness to God (called the beatific vision) based solely on God's own goodness.

William of Ockham (c.1287 - 1347) taught free will, but God predestines based on people's good works that He foresees.

The Cathars denied free will.

This is a subject on which there is likely never to be universal agreement.

That Gottschalk of Orbais really stirred things up when he weighed in. Stay tuned.

The Council of Orange

There were two Councils of Orange. The first was held 8 November 441, presided over by Hilary of Arles.  He and 17 bishops established rules for the right of asylum, penance, administering sacred rights to those who were "defective" in body or mind, and a few others.

The second Council of Orange, in 529, presided over by Cæsarius of Arles, dealt with heresy and affirmed much of Augustine of Hippo's ideas.

As it turns out, I've already mentioned one of the chief concerns of the Council of Orange in 529, when I wrote about John Cassian (the "sometime saint"). Cassian's "SemiPelagianism" (a "compromise" between the "heresy" of Pelagius and the "orthodoxy" of Augustine of Hippo) claimed that God's grace was not needed to start someone's path to the good. Augustine maintained that God's grace must be present from the beginning.

The third canon of the Council says:

If anyone says that the grace of God can be conferred as a result of human prayer, but that it is not grace itself which makes us pray to God, he contradicts the prophet Isaiah, or the Apostle who says the same thing, "I have been found by those who did not seek me; I have shown myself to those who did not ask for me."

The quotation is from Romans 10:20, in which Paul quotes Isaiah 65:1. This suggests that absolutely anyone (and therefore everyone) could find God's grace, because the potential for God's grace is present in everyone whether they know it or not.

Canon 5 reinforces this:

If anyone says that not only the increase of faith but also its beginning and the very desire for faith, by which we believe in Him who justifies the ungodly and comes to the regeneration of holy baptism-if anyone says that this belongs to us by nature and not by a gift of grace, that is, by the inspiration of the Holy Spirit amending our will and turning it from unbelief to faith and from godlessness to godliness, it is proof that he is opposed to the teaching of the Apostles,

I'm not a theologian, but this reminds me of the document Lumen Gentium ("Light of Peoples") from Vatican II, in which the "possibility of salvation outside the Church" is discussed.

Nor is God far distant from those who in shadows and images seek the unknown God, for it is He who gives to all men life and breath and all things, and as Saviour wills that all men be saved. Those also can attain to salvation who through no fault of their own do not know the Gospel of Christ or His Church, yet sincerely seek God and moved by grace strive by their deeds to do His will as it is known to them through the dictates of conscience. Nor does Divine Providence deny the helps necessary for salvation to those who, without blame on their part, have not yet arrived at an explicit knowledge of God and with His grace strive to live a good life.

This was a healthy attitude that denied no one the opportunity to be a child of God and receive salvation.

There was one item from Augustine of Hippo's writing that the Council did not ratify, and that was his stand on predestination. Next time.

Donatism Aftermath

Although Donatus Magnus' appeal at the Council of Arles failed, and he was exiled to Gaul until his death, Donatism did not die out. After all, it had become the dominant church in parts of North Africa. Rome and a succession of popes would have liked to bring the Donarists of North Africa back "into the fold," but there was opposition.

Donatism also had its own internal problems, some of which came from the Circumcellions. The name was derived from Latin circum cellas euntes ("those going around larders") The larder in this case referred to a cool place for food storage, from which we get the word "cellar." The meaning behind the label was because the Circumcellions lived off of food from others whom they tried to convert to their cause. The called themselves Agonistici ("fighters" [for Christ]). They first appeared in 317 from the lower strata of society, fiercely anti-Roman and desiring social reform.

A bishop in Numidia, Optatus, remembered for his writing against Donatism, said that in 340 they started attacking officials such as creditors and landlords. Those killed during the violence were considered martyrs. In fact, martyrdom became the primary Christian virtue, as opposed to chastity, charity, humility, etc. In fact, they would sometimes attack Roman legionnaires with wooden clubs, knowing they were outmatched, so that they could be martyred. 

Augustine of Hippo (pictured here) spoke out against them, writing:

And those men also belong to this same heresy [i.e.of the Donatists] in Africa who are called circumcelliones, a rough and primitive type of men most notorious for their outrages—not just for the savage crimes that they perpetrate against others, but also because in their insane fury they do not spare even themselves. For they are accustomed to killing themselves by various kinds of deaths, but especially by throwing themselves off heights, by drowning, or byself-immolation. And they seduce others whom they can, of either sex, to join them in this same mad behavior.

They would also disrupt courts of law to produce the same outcome. The punishment for contempt of court was, in fact, execution. The Donatists did not necessarily want the alliance mentioned by Augustine.

Right up through the 15th and 16th centuries, attempts at church reform that declared priests in the wrong were slammed with accusation of the heresy of Donatism, including John Wycliffe and Jan Hus.

I want to get back to the Council of Arles in which Donatism was rejected a second time. It was the first of many at Arles, and dealt with much more than Donatism. Stay tuned.

The Berbers

They call themselves the Amazigh, but history knows them as Berbers, who inhabited northwestern Africa since at least 10,000BCE. The etymological origin of "Berber" is problematic. The obvious guess is that it comes from the Greek βάρβαρος ("barbaros"), used by the Greeks to refer to any non-Greek speaking people. One scholar thinks instead it's from the Bavares, a tribe known to exist in Mauretania from the 3rd to 5th century CE.

The historian Ibn Khaldun shared two popular theories of the origin of the Berbers. One was that they were descended from Canaan, son of Ham, son of Noah. Either that or they were descended from another son of Ham, Keloudjm.

As Muslims moved westward across northern Africa, Arabization had a profound effect on Berber culture: tribal practices were replaced with Islam. During the 12th century, Christian and Jewish communities became marginalized, although Jews continued to exist as dhimmis, protected peoples. 

Prior to the influence of Islam, however, most Berber groups were either Christian or Jewish or Animist. One of the most famous of early Christian fathers, St. Augustine of Hippo, was from a Berber family. On the other hand, so possibly was Arius, an early heretic. Another Berber who created an approach to Christianity that did not suit the mainstream was the heretic Donatus Magnus. Let's dabble in heresy next time.

The Rule of Augustine

One Latin form of Augustine was "Austinus"

Augustine of Hippo (354-430), pious man and brilliant theologian, has been mentioned several times before; his influence extended far beyond the 5th century. His writings influenced the founding and running of several orders, including the Dominicans. One such order was named for the man himself, and called the Augustinians, or Austin Friars.

Augustine did not, as St. Benedict did, set out to write a formal set of rules for an order. He did, however, leave a great deal of his written work behind. Three of these writings, taken together, are considered the Rule of St. Augustine.

The first is referred to as Letter 211, written in 423 to the nuns at Hippo (known to the modern world as Annaba, Algeria). It does not offer a list of specific actions to perform in their daily life; it was a more general letter about proper behavior during church services, embracing poverty and obedience, and the duties of the superior of the community. As the Bishop of Hippo, Augustine's letter was taken very seriously and read weekly to the nuns to remind them of their obligations.

Martin Luther was an Augustinian

The other two documents are his Sermons 355 and 356, dealing with poverty. They explain how nuns hand all their personal possessions to the monastery before taking their vows. The monastery will provide their needs, and anything they may earn or be given through their efforts in the future is to be considered the property of the monastery.

These Sermons and Letters were available to everyone over the centuries after Augustine. Benedict is said to have read and re-read Letter 211. It was not until 1256, however, that an actual Order of Saint Augustine was founded, when Pope Alexander IV issued a papal bull doing so.

Church & State, Part 1 of 3

Augustine of Hippo (354-430) had very strong feelings about the difference between spiritual and temporal authority and structures. In his City of God he makes it clear that earthly governing structures, i.e. the State, were spiritual Babylons, equivalent to fallen and sinful institutions. The Church was the true and proper guide for mankind through this world. Had Adam and Even not sinned in Eden, mankind would have been able to live in harmony with itself and the world, and temporal structures would not be necessary. After all, the State seemed to exist in order to regulate behavior, particularly behavior that was detrimental to others. In an un-Fallen world, this would be unnecessary.

Augustine was living in a Roman Empire that was Christian-friendly, but still remembered the persecutions. His attitude on the State was likely based on his knowledge of the persecutions and of historical pagan nations, and was therefore more harsh, seeing the State as the direct opposite of the Church.

Thomas Aquinas (1225-1274, also mentioned here) took a slightly different view. He was surrounded by States with Christian rulers and was willing to consider the State without condemning it. Like Aristotle, Aquinas saw society as a natural institution for mankind, and therefore something ordained by God. The State was another form of society, and therefore was a part of man's natural inclination and therefore also was ordained by God.

Church and State were both important institutions, but not separate in their goals. For Aquinas, the Church existed to help mankind attain its spiritual goal. It did not follow, however, that the State existed to help mankind attain a temporal goal. Mankind has only one goal: a spiritual one. Therefore, the State exists to support man's spiritual goals as well. Any conflict between the actions of the two should be resolved in favor of the Church, whose primary goal is spiritual.

Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) and Aquinas were in agreement about one point: both Church and State were important, just in different ways, and neither should try to usurp the other's authority. Dante, however, observed first-hand the serious clashes between the papacy and empire, and tended to come down on the side of empire. If the State was a society ordained by God, then Dante saw the emperor as ruling by divine grace, and therefore no mortal should be considered to be superior to the emperor. Dante also held up the empire as the only instrument able to achieve peace.

What did the papacy think of this line of reasoning? We will see that tomorrow.

Oil of Saints

Yesterday's post on St. Menas and the flasks of water leads to a discussion of oleum martyris, literally "oil of martyrs" but more generically called "Oil of Saints," a liquid said to have flowed (in some cases, still flowing) from the bodies or relics or burial places of saints. It may also refer to water from wells associated with them or near their burial sites, as well as to oil in lamps or in other ways connected to the saint. Liquid was an easy souvenir to take away from a site, and liquid is an easy thing to apply to a sick person, if you believe the liquid has some connection to a cure, such as association with a saint.

Many saints have this phenomenon associated with them. The earliest was St. Paulinus of Nola, who died in 431.* Oil was poured over his relics, and then collected in containers and cloths and given to those in need of cures. The historian Paulinus of Pétrigeux (writing about 470) tells us that by his day this practice was being used on relics of saints who were not martyred as well. The relics of St. Martin of Tours (316-397) were used in this way. St. Augustine of Hippo (354-430) records that a dead man was resurrected in this way by use of oil of St. Stephen, the first Christian martyr who was stoned in 34.

One of the most famous oils is still "in production," as it were. In Eichstadt in Bavaria, at the Church of St. Walburga (c.710-779), a liquid flows from the stone and metal on which are placed the relics of this saint. The church is owned by the Sisters of Saint Benedict, who collect the liquid and give it away in small vessels. This fluid has been analyzed and discovered to be nothing more than water (suggesting that it is created by condensation from humid air on a cool slab), but its contact with the saint's relics make it valuable to the faithful.

Another source of "oil" is the relics of St. Nicholas of Myra. His relics in the Church of San Nicola in Bari produce a fluid called "Manna of St. Nicholas" and believed to have curative properties.

Most accounts of "Oil of Saints" are connected with saints from the first several centuries of the Common Era, with only one each from the 11th, 13th and 14th centuries.

*St. Menas lived and died earlier, but the curative properties of his burial place were not discovered until later in the 5th century.

Pelagius

Arius was not the only early writer whose ideas were superseded by other theologians, making him a heretic. One of the next great disruptions to Christian doctrine took place several decades after Arius' death, when Pelagius (c.354-420/440) started preaching. In fact, we know little about him outside of his heresies, especially since his trials were public, and Augustine wrote about him. He was likely from Britain (Augustine and others say so, and give Brito or Britannicus as a surname); Jerome mocks him for being Scotorum pultibus proegravatus (stuffed with Scottish porridge).* From his detractors we also know that he was a large man, and spoke Latin and Greek well.

Pelagius was actually considered a saintly man and a fine theologian, and once he reached Rome he made the acquaintance of several well-known and respected men. His ideas, however, brought him into opposition with others. The chief point of difference that brought Augustine's attention was Pelagius' opinion that original sin did not, in fact, scar all human beings. Adam's sin may have been the exemplar of bad behavior, but through will power we are able to avoid sinning. To Augustine, who came to the conclusion that God's grace was necessary no matter the will of the individual, this was an idea to be squashed.

What then (for Pelagianism) was the point of Christ's sacrifice on the Cross? It was to balance Adam's example with its opposite: the perfect example of selflessness that shows us it is possible to please God. Pelagius disliked the idea of pre-destination, and felt that everyone had the ability through free will to change the path of the future for himself. This was the "through faith alone" doctrine over a thousand years before Luther and Protestantism, although he also asserted Ceterum sine operibus fidei, non legis, mortua est fides. (Without the work of faith, not of law, faith is dead.) For Pelagius, a blameless life was sufficient to enter heaven. For Augustine, a blameless life was a good thing, but not sufficient; you needed God's grace.

A trial for heresy was declared. Pelagius lost and was banished from Rome. We think he died around 420 or later in Palestine. As with Arianism, his ideas did not die with him: they were spread and refined, even producing a version called Semipelagianism which hung on for a few centuries.

*Keep in mind that, in those days, "Scot" probably meant he was from Ireland.

Anselm of Laon Explains the Bible

Anselm of Laon (d.15 July 1117) studied under one of the great names of the day, St. Anselm of Bec, whom I teased about here. He became a master of the new scholastic theology, and helped establish two schools of theology and created a new way to read the Bible.

Scholastic theology was a blend of two traditions: patristic learning (that is, writings from the fathers of the early church, such as Augustine), and the reasoning skills derived from reading the non-Christian thinkers such as Greek philosophers and Jewish scholars (which at this point were usually available because of Islamic scholars). The Scholastics were no longer content to shake their heads and simply accept apparent inconsistencies in the Bible. Their goal was to order and understand the entire world, and that meant first understanding the Bible.

17th century edition of Anselm's Bible

Consequently, Anselm produced an edition of the Bible called the Glossa interlinearis, so-called because his commentary was written above or next to each line.* Anselm's work was groundbreaking in that it presented a discussion and explanation for the Bible in an easily accessible manner, verse by verse.

His other notable contribution to theology was at the university in Paris, which he co-founded with William of Champeaux. Here theologians promoted Realism, the philosophy that our reality is independent of our beliefs, perceptions, and language. For Realists, truth is understood as one learns of and conforms to reality.

Anselm of Laon became so well-known for his understanding of theology that, when he moved to Laon to start a school there, scholars traveled to study with him. One of these, Peter Abelard, would be expelled from the school by Anselm in 1113 after debates over the validity of Realism, but would go on to become, in his turn, one of the groundbreaking theologians of the next generation. Anselm, though not well known now, would have been happy to know that his glosses on the Bible were re-printed several times over the following centuries.

*Modern scholars think it more likely that the Glossa was compiled by Anselm's students after his death, using Anselm's lectures and (now lost) writings.  This was one of two chief commentaries on the Bible. The other was the Glossa ordinaria of Walafrid Strabo (808-849).

Augustine of Hippo

Today is the feast day of Augustine of Hippo (354-28 August 430). He was born into a noble family in Thagaste, in what is now Algeria. We know a great deal about Augustine from St. Possidius, who was his disciple, friend and biographer, and from Augustine's own writing. His life was a journey through an early history of pagan and Christian philosophy—philosophy whose later form he shaped significantly.

A stamp commemorating his origin.

According to Augustine's biographical Confessions, while his mother (later, St. Monica) tried to raise him in the Christian faith, his father was an idolater who recognized his son's intelligence and spared no expense to make him a scholar. He praises the providence that helped him to be educated, despite his father's materialistic aims for him.

Before he was baptized a Christian, he dabbled in many other beliefs, such as the neo-Platonism of Plotinus. Before that he was influenced by Manichaeism, a major rival to Christianity for centuries and very popular among soldiers. Discussing the beliefs of Manichees is too complex to do here, but one thing that Augustine objected to when he switched to Christianity: the Manichaeistic view that knowledge was the key to salvation. He realized that knowledge alone did not lead him to fulfillment as a Christian.

His writings ranged over a wide area: he was anti-abortion, but agreed that the loss of an "unformed" fetus mentioned in Exodus 21:22-23 did not qualify as an abortion, since there was no evidence that a soul had entered the fetus yet.* He rejected astrology. He felt that the seven-week Creation in Genesis was not to be taken literally; God created all things at once. He believed in "just wars" instead of total Christian pacifism. He explained Original Sin not as carnal knowledge (which was a Manichaeistic view) but as either sheer foolishness followed by pride and disobedience to God, or as pride first because of their failure to accept God's hierarchy of things in the world. Although some Christian scholars rejected Jewish texts, Augustine pointed out that they were chosen by God as a special people, and should be allowed to co-exist with Christians; the Jews would ultimately be converted.

His numerous letters and sermons formed the basis for the growing religion. Much of his thought has remained the foundation of Christian theology through the present day.

*Note that these verses have been scrutinized carefully in recent times, and in some cases altered in translation to read differently.

What is Time?

What then is time? If no one asks me, I know: if I wish to explain it to one that asketh, I know not: yet I say boldly that I know, that if nothing passed away, time past were not; and if nothing were coming, a time to come were not; and if nothing were, time present were not. Those two times then, past and to come, how are they, seeing the past now is not, and that to come is not yet? But the present, should it always be present, and never pass into time past, verily it should not be time, but eternity.

With this passage, found halfway through Book XI of his Confessions, St. Augustine of Hippo (13 November 354-28 August 430) discussed the difference between Time and Eternity. He knows that he is not aware of time that is yet to come, or time that is past; only time that is present; but he still doesn't know how to define what time is.

A medieval 24-hour clock.

Measurement of time was imprecise. There were "hours" of the day: the Vigil took place between 2:30 and 3:00 a.m., Matins came at Dawn, et cetera. These hours designated times of worship and work for monks and were extended to general use, but they were not exactly a way to quantify time. The hour of Sext was at noon, for instance, which was recognized when the sun was highest, but Matins/Dawn came more or fewer hours before Sext, depending on the time of year. They were segments of the day that altered with the seasons; they did not measure a span of time.

St. Benedict of Nursia (c.480-543), in his Rule for monks, intends them to worship at specific times, and finds a way to measure a span of time. Monks were not to slack at getting up for Matins, and so:

If anyone shall come to matins after the Gloria of the 94th Psalm, which on this account we wish to be said slowly and leisurely, he shall not take his place in the choir, but go last of all, or to some place apart which the abbot may appoint for those who so fail in his sight.

Time could be measured, therefore, by comparison to a known duration.* But even durations could be tricky. Augustine had pondered thinking of a long syllable as equivalent to two short ones, "But when two syllables sound one after the other—the first short, the second long—how shall I keep hold of the short one?" Augustine seemed to be caught up in the idea that time was a continuum, and that he was living in a constant present and could not treat the past and future in the same conceptual way, since he could not live in them. The Middle Ages couldn't grab time and measure it, like water or distance or even acceleration. It was insubstantial, and belonged to God.

The concept of time had to change ... and eventually it did. There was no clear turning point; there had to be some conceptual change, planned or otherwise, to see time not as a line but as a series of points, as separate moments that could be thought of without being linked to a past or future moment.

Sometime in the mid-13th century, we find Franco of Cologne. He was a music theorist who gave us the idea that a mark on a page should distinguish how long a note should be. This was the logical extension of Franco's definition of time: "Time is the measure of actual sound as well as of the opposite, its omission."

Was this the moment? Was it music, with its attention to and reverence for mathematics that accidentally inspired the thinking of time as separate units that could be measured and counted? We might be able to believe that, if there were some evidence that the world began to measure and quantify time; for instance, if the development of mechanical clocks were to start around this time.

Well, guess what happened next?

*This method of measuring spans of time without a clock is used even today.