Greetings,

This week we looked at the motives and methods of chivalry in the medieval period.  As a high ideal, medievals never really lived up to it, but such is the case with all high ideals.  While they fell short of the standard they set for themselves, the ideal at least set the bar high and gave them something to aim at.  Chivalry’s heart still beats faintly in much of the modern conception of manners, so all in all I think we can say it’s had a good run.

Chivalry has many origins, but one of them surely comes from the medieval Church’s practical realism.  Man will not attain perfection.  War will always be with us.  But that did not mean that civilization could not seek to limit the effects of war.  Limiting war’s collateral damage meant among other things, strict rules governing how and when people could fight.

To perhaps better understand we need only to imagine another kind of contest, like a basketball game.  We know when the game is over, and we know who has won.  We know this for more reasons than the score.  Both sides have agreed on the rules beforehand.  A clock tells you when time expires.  Referees stand ready to enforce rules that help make the contest fair.  No one likes losing, but when you lose according to the rules, you can accept it, and stop playing.  The ‘war’ is over.

Suppose the final horn sounds, and team ‘A’ is ahead 50-48.  But what if to score the last basket and pull ahead, the point guard of team ‘A’ punched a guy in the stomach to get a clear lane to the hoop?  If noticed by the ref, the basket would not count.  It’s not just the score that determines the winner.

Suppose now that the ref did not see the punch, and therefore the basket counts.  Will team ‘B’ accept the result?  Would the game be over for them?  Ask the USA basketball team from the 1972  Olympics if they think they lost the gold medal game. . .

Imagine if no rules governed how people played basketball.  At first, an someone would throw an elbow, then a punch.  Maybe someone brings brass knuckles onto the court.  A player might run out of bounds but now no out of bounds exists.  What would happen would quickly cease to resemble anything like basketball.  The contest would not test basketball skill but instead, each sides cunning use of violence.

The medievals believed that while war would involve killing, it should not be about killing.  War needed to serve something higher than mere accretion of power. This meant that

• War needed to have a definite defensive purpose.  They justified fighting when done only for those that could not fight themselves.
• The limited when they could fight.  No fighting on Sundays.  Or Fridays.  Or during Lent, Advent, Easter, Christmas, Pentecost, feast days, and so on.
• They limited who could fight, which was both by accident and design.  Learning how to fight on horseback with armor took a lot of training.  Thus, only those who had the time to train would fight, which restricted it to the special class of nobles.

The idea of showing deference to women inspired a whole new set of manners, poetry, literature, and so on.  I can’t think of any other civilization that exalted the feminine ideal to such a degree.  A quick comparison of ancient and medieval art reveals this.

For civilization to survive, we need people willing and able to defend it.  We do a fearful thing during war when we hand over the fate of our civilization to men practiced in the arts of violence.  Killing machines like Achilles will defend us, but then drag us down with them in a spiral of violence.  After the Trojan War, Greece descended into a Dark Age.  After Rome’s victory over Carthage, their Republic flew apart at the seams in an intermittent civil war that lasted for a century.  Chivalry sought to stop the cycle of violence and allow civilization to return after the fighting stops.

Women today have many more rights, and have much more equality with men than they used to.  But modern women face a dilemma.  Can chivalry and equality co-exist, or do they cancel each other out?  If so which ideal should we prefer?  If they can co-exist, how would they do so?  We had an interesting discussion about holding doors open.  All the girls agreed that they liked it when guys hold the door for them, at least under most circumstances.  But guys almost universally agreed that they did not like it when girls held door open for them.  Why might this be?  Is it sexist for the guys to think this, or are they onto some fundamental truth about the nature of male and female?

I asked the students whether or not any objected to having a girl’s soccer team, and no one did.  But just about everyone agreed that a girl’s wrestling team wouldn’t just be weird, it would be “wrong.”  And yet, 100 years ago many would have thought that women wearing pants was fundamentally wrong (i.e. women shouldn’t wear men’s clothing/cross-dressing), whereas today we don’t give it a second thought. How can we know the difference?  Knowing where to draw the line between relative cultural difference and eternal principle requires a great deal of discernment.

In the end, medieval people believed that the presence of male and female in creation revealed certain truths about God Himself. These truths should be “acted out” in our daily lives so that we might better know God.  So for medievals, the confusion of genders not only denigrated God’s creation but obscured God’s revelation.

This idea makes more sense if we think of life as a kind of play.  The playwright has a particular message to get across to his audience.  That messages requires each of the performers to know their role, and to know their lines.  Forgetting ones lines wouldn’t be a sin, but it would obscure the play’s message for the audience.  In this analogy, the “audience” would be those all around us everyday.  We all have the responsibility and privilege of imaging God to others all the time. The diversity of creation reveals the “diversity” of God.  Both the male and female “principles” reveal something about God, and again, we should not obscure the revelation God means to give through us.

To cap off our discussion of chivalry we will look at the life and ministry of St. Francis.  I wanted to focus on his famous “Canticle of the Sun.”  It reads,

Most high, all powerful, all good Lord! All praise is yours, all glory, all honor, and all blessing. To you, alone, Most High, do they belong. No mortal lips are worthy to pronounce your name.

Be praised, my Lord, through all your creatures, especially through my lord Brother Sun, who brings the day; and you give light through him. And he is beautiful and radiant in all his splendor! Of you, Most High, he bears the likeness.

Be praised, my Lord, through Sister Moon and the stars; in the heavens you have made them, precious and beautiful.

Be praised, my Lord, through Brothers Wind and Air, and clouds and storms, and all the weather, through which you give your creatures sustenance.

Be praised, My Lord, through Sister Water; she is very useful, and humble, and precious, and pure.

Be praised, my Lord, through Brother Fire, through whom you brighten the night. He is beautiful and cheerful, and powerful and strong.

Be praised, my Lord, through our sister Mother Earth, who feeds us and rules us, and produces various fruits with colored flowers and herbs.

Be praised, my Lord, through those who forgive for love of you; through those who endure sickness and trial. Happy those who endure in peace, for by you, Most High, they will be crowned.

Be praised, my Lord, through our Sister Bodily Death, from whose embrace no living person can escape. Woe to those who die in mortal sin! Happy those she finds doing your most holy will. The second death can do no harm to them.

Praise and bless my Lord, and give thanks, and serve him with great humility.

We looked at how St. Francis personified creation and even assigned various roles, or genders, to different parts of creation.  The ‘male’ aspects are active, the female more humble and nurturing.  Despite this strong distinction, no one would call St. Francis a chauvinist.

Lest we think this a complete relic of our past, why does some much love poetry involve the moon and not the sun?  Why do we give our ships feminine names?  Are we living in the past or recognizing in some way a fundamental truth about reality?  Peter Kreeft discusses this in his wonderful “Love Sees with New Eyes” essay, which can be found here.

For those who may be interested, C.S. Lewis excellent (and short) essay entitled “The Necessity of Chivalry is here.  He writes, “The ideal embodied [in chivalry] is escapism in the sense never dreamed of by those who usually use the word; it offers the only possible escape between wolves who do not understand, and sheep who cannot defend, the things which make life desirable.”

Many thanks,

Dave Mathwin

Greetings,

Most of us would shudder at the thought of visiting a medieval doctor.  After all, they bled people to make them well and actually used leeches for treatment of wounds (doctors were actually called ‘leeches’ in the common tongue).  This general aversion offers a great opportunity to get a fresh look at medieval people and see what they valued.  How they thought about health reflected their deeper beliefs about humanity and the world around them.  Hopefully by looking at a very different approach to health we can see the nose in front of our own face, and more accurately understand our own culture.

I remember a conversation I had just after college.  A woman asked me what I thought of  Eastern medicine, and I replied that I didn’t know much about it, but was wary of the possible non-Christian foundations of eastern approaches.  She asked me, “Are you so sure that western medicine has a Christian foundation?”  I was struck speechless (a rare occurrence, unfortunately).  I had to admit that I had never thought about it before, never seen the nose on my face, so to speak.

In that spirit, I wanted the students to approach the subject with an open mind.

What did they believe?

Just as the medievals based (consciously or no) their society on their perception of the order in the cosmos, so too they thought of health vis a vis man’s place in the universe.  It was “holistic” healing in the widest possible sense.  Originally, man stood in harmony with the rest of creation, just as Earth did with the rest of the cosmos.  Man in harmony with creation meant man in harmony with himself, with his various internal elements of earth, air, water, and blood in harmony.

The Fall disrupted this harmony, and so medicine should seek to restore it, to put the elements back in their right place.  This concept of balance, so important in medieval politics, shows itself in medicine as well.  Today we have various medical supplements that allow us to go beyond what is natural but for medievals the key was not fighting nature but restoring harmony with it.

Internal harmony had its reflection again in the relationship between the physical and spiritual in our lives.  Some mock medieval medicine by arguing that they thought every disease had its cure in prayer.  That is not true, but they did believe that one’s mental and spiritual well-being impacted our physical state, and vice-versa.

Their emphasis on the planets probably stands as one of their more perplexing beliefs, and for that reason perhaps most instructive for us.

First, we note that the medievals saw the cosmos as interconnected like a spider web, not one of free-floating entities.  Movement in one area effected other areas.  Motion in cosmos impacts motion on Earth, which impacts us.

This does not mean that they believed that planetary motion could cause actions on earth.  Rather, planetary motion was considered part of the environment in which man operated, and had to account for.  Here is Aquinas, for example, on the motion of the heavenly bodies and the limits of its impact. . .

Summa Theologica, Do Planets cause human action?

Objection 1: It would seem that the human will is moved by a heavenly body. For all various and multiform movements are reduced, as to their cause, to a uniform movement which is that of the heavens, as is proved in Phys. viii, 9. But human movements are various and multiform, since they begin to be, whereas previously they were not. Therefore they are reduced, as to their cause, to the movement of the heavens, which is uniform according to its nature.

Objection 2: Further, according to Augustine (De Trin. iii, 4) “the lower bodies are moved by the higher.” But the movements of the human body, which are caused by the will, could not be reduced to the movement of the heavens, as to their cause, unless the will too were moved by the heavens. Therefore the heavens move the human will.

Objection 3: Further, by observing the heavenly bodies astrologers foretell the truth about future human acts, which are caused by the will. But this would not be so, if the heavenly bodies could not move man’s will. Therefore the human will is moved by a heavenly body.

On the contrary, Damascene says (De Fide Orth. ii, 7) that “the heavenly bodies are not the causes of our acts.” But they would be, if the will, which is the principle of human acts, were moved by the heavenly bodies. Therefore the will is not moved by the heavenly bodies.

I answer that, It is evident that the will can be moved by the heavenly bodies in the same way as it is moved by its object; that is to say, in so far as exterior bodies, which move the will, through being offered to the senses, and also the organs themselves of the sensitive powers, are subject to the movements of the heavenly bodies.

But some have maintained that heavenly bodies have an influence on the human will, in the same way as some exterior agent moves the will, as to the exercise of its act. But this is impossible. For the “will,” as stated in De Anima iii, 9, “is in the reason.” Now the reason is a power of the soul, not bound to a bodily organ: wherefore it follows that the will is a power absolutely incorporeal and immaterial. But it is evident that no body can act on what is incorporeal, but rather the reverse: because things incorporeal and immaterial have a power more formal and more universal than any corporeal things whatever. Therefore it is impossible for a heavenly body to act directly on the intellect or will. For this reason Aristotle (De Anima iii, 3) ascribed to those who held that intellect differs not from sense, the theory that “such is the will of men, as is the day which the father of men and of gods bring on” [*Odyssey xviii. 135] (referring to Jupiter, by whom they understand the entire heavens). For all the sensitive powers, since they are acts of bodily organs, can be moved accidentally, by the heavenly bodies, i.e. through those bodies being moved, whose acts they are.

But since it has been stated (A[2]) that the intellectual appetite is moved, in a fashion, by the sensitive appetite, the movements of the heavenly bodies have an indirect bearing on the will; in so far as the will happens to be moved by the passions of the sensitive appetite.

Reply to Objection 1: The multiform movements of the human will are reduced to some uniform cause, which, however, is above the intellect and will. This can be said, not of any body, but of some superior immaterial substance. Therefore there is no need for the movement of the will to be referred to the movement of the heavens, as to its cause.

Reply to Objection 2: The movements of the human body are reduced, as to their cause, to the movement of a heavenly body, in so far as the disposition suitable to a particular movement, is somewhat due to the influence of heavenly bodies; also, in so far as the sensitive appetite is stirred by the influence of heavenly bodies; and again, in so far as exterior bodies are moved in accordance with the movement of heavenly bodies, at whose presence, the will begins to will or not to will something; for instance, when the body is chilled, we begin to wish to make the fire. But this movement of the will is on the part of the object offered from without: not on the part of an inward instigation.

Reply to Objection 3: As stated above (Cf. FP, Q[84], AA[6],7) the sensitive appetite is the act of a bodily organ. Wherefore there is no reason why man should not be prone to anger or concupiscence, or some like passion, by reason of the influence of heavenly bodies, just as by reason of his natural complexion. But the majority of men are led by the passions, which the wise alone resist. Consequently, in the majority of cases predictions about human acts, gathered from the observation of heavenly bodies, are fulfilled. Nevertheless, as Ptolemy says (Centiloquium v), “the wise man governs the stars”; which is a though to say that by resisting his passions, he opposes his will, which is free and nowise subject to the movement of the heavens, to such like effects of the heavenly bodies.

Or, as Augustine says (Gen. ad lit. ii, 15): “We must confess that when the truth is foretold by astrologers, this is due to some most hidden inspiration, to which the human mind is subject without knowing it. And since this is done in order to deceive man, it must be the work of the lying spirits.”

For them, paying attention to planetary motion might be akin to us today paying heed to a weather pattern off the coast of Japan.  But again, Aquinas hints at something more than this, something with more weight behind it.  C.S. Lewis, a professor of Medieval & Renaissance Literature, used these ideas in his Chronicles of Narnia series, as well as books like Perelandra  and That Hideous Strength.

Different planets had different impacts.  Of course the planets outside of earth had no sin, so the influence of some was not bad in itself, but often became so when interacting with our own fallen environment.

Saturn — The Infortuna Major

Saturn’s influence tends to make people introspective, moody, and inwardly focused.  This makes sense when we realize that the Greek name for Saturn is Cronos, where we get our language for time.  The idea here is of one who broods, who navel gazes.  Saturn is associated with the “melancholy” personality type. Melancholies can achieve great heights in artistic, intellectual, and spiritual endeavors.  Many of our great geniuses likely had this personality.  But the danger comes when they live too much inside their own head, isolate themselves, and subject themselves to psychological debilitations like depression.

Jupiter — The Fortuna Major

Jupiter received its name from Jove, the Roman name for Zeus.  Hence, Jupiter brings kingly joy.  When the king is happy the people feast.  People come together and sing, dance, eat, etc.  This concept of communal joy was the highest good for medievals, which they associated with the “Sanguine” personality type.

Mars — The Infortuna Minor

Mars of course brings war.  The “red planet” is associated with anger, and thus its earthly mirrors can be found in strong ‘Type A’ personalities.  What should strike us about Mars being the “Infortuna Minor” is that the medievals did not think war as bad as a nation of isolated brooders.  War brings many evils, but a silver lining can be that it does bring people together — and here we see again the medieval “community” emphasis.

Venus — The Fortuna Minor

Venus brings love, and is often linked with romantic love between a man and woman.  Again, we have an interesting contrast between their world and ours.  For us, nothing can be greater than experiencing romantic love, but for them, nothing was great than “joviality.”  Again, we see the community emphasis, and when we step back from romantic love, we see that while it does bring two people together, it also can isolate those two from others around them.  Isolated joy between two people cannot match communal joy for the medievals.

The composer Gustav Holst used the medieval ideas about the planets to write a series of compositions.  As is appropriate, the best one is “Jupiter.”

All in all, we have more of the medieval world with us than we might realize.

• Some hospitals actually use leeches!
• The current emphasis on a holistic approach to health comes directly from the medieval period
• The focus on health care trying to keep you healthy comes directly from the Middle Ages
• The use of dietary changes as part of health care has ancient and medieval roots

I hoped the students enjoyed our short detour into an odd corner of the medieval world.

Blessings,

Dave

Greetings,

This week we wrapped up the 12th century by looking at Henry II, king of England from 1154-1179.

Henry had many great leadership qualities, as even his enemies attested to.  Tall, handsome, bold, decisive, charismatic — the list could go on.  Feudal society, however, seemed arranged specifically to prevent strong ‘type A’ personalities like Henry’s from exercising their full potential.  Past updates discussed the various ‘spheres’ of influence, local distinctions, and tangled allegiances that prevented any centralization of power in the medieval world.

All of this sort of thing no doubt maddened Henry, just as it would frustrate anyone who liked efficiency, action, and “getting things done,” not to mention power.  Henry did his best, however, and had a great deal of success.  One of his final frontiers remained the creation of universal law throughout England, and here he met the staunch opposition of the Church, in the person of his one time friend Thomas Becket, a man to whom he had personally shown enormous favor, raising him from his “common” birth to the heights of power.  Henry also wanted the power to appoint bishops to vacant sees, and to try monks and clergy who had committed crimes.  Becket didn’t mind the first so much, acquiesced on the last, and ended up dying for his opposition to Henry’s claim to control the clergy.

The medievals inherited one of their dominant theological motifs from St. Augustine’s “City of God.”  In his treatise Augustine outlined the existence of two cities on Earth, the “City of Man,” and the “City of God.”  The City of Man has its manifestation in the use of power to maintain order — the State.  The state has legitimacy in the eyes of God. It performs crucial functions for our well being.  But don’t kid yourself into thinking that the City of Man has any redemptive qualities or possibilities.  It performs purely ‘negative’ functions.  It restrains evil but cannot serve as a conduit for redemption.

The City of God, on the other hand, looks beyond the maintaining of power to redemption.  It focuses on love, forgiveness, and grace.  The City of God, therefore, must not be ‘infected’ by the City of Man.  The two are ultimately incompatible not because the City of Man is inherently bad but because they have different goals.  For many medievals, the political and legal independence of the Church helped maintain the Kingdom of God on Earth.

The feud between Henry and Beckett likely had its personal undertones, but at its heart, Beckett believed he stood for the independence of the Church.  Henry’s claim to appoint bishops and discipline clergy to Beckett looked like the City of Man trying to control the City of God.  If the City of Man got its clutches on the Church, the Kingdom of God would suffer, the light of Christ would dim.

Becket’s opposition to Henry seems arcane to us.  But to keep its independence, the Church believed that it needed to maintain both its territorial and legal separation from the state.  For his part, Henry felt that he could not tolerate a de facto “state within a state” while he reigned.  In the end, four of Henry’s knights killed Becket, though perhaps not on Henry’s direct order.  Nevertheless, Henry ‘lost,’ for the people blamed him for Becket’s death, and he had to publicly do penance.  At the end of the post I include one medieval contemporary’s admiring evaluation of Henry II.  He had many strengths, but some of these strengths could turn to weaknesses in the wrong context.

Previously we examined aspects of the medieval “guild” system.  Guilds had three basic functions:

• To provide a means to train new workers
• To enforce a uniform standard of quality
• To protect its members

But beyond these basic functions, guilds, whether consciously or not, reinforced basic values of medieval society, which valued community and stability over competition and change.  I assume they would look at modern day America and shake their heads.  So much turmoil, so much of the “rat-race” mentality, so much cut-throat competition.  Why not all agree to scale back and relax a little?  Why make the middle-class dad have to stay open later to stay ahead of the competition just to keep up with competitors and miss his son’s soccer game?  In the end, it’s not worth it.

Guilds also provided another check and balance, or block of power and influence in the medieval stew.  They further prevented any kind of concentration of power.  Understanding the guild system can help us understand why Henry II actions brought so much controversy.

But, as students noted, the guild system geared itself towards stability and community, not innovation.  In America, for example, we do not shed a tear if Hechingers Hardware loses to Home Depot, so long as we get a better deal (does anyone else remember Hechingers?).  We understand that competition benefits consumers, and we accept the occasional disruption and instability that brings to the economy.  The medievals, on the other hand, made a different choice, thinking more of the immediate local community and less of the amorphous general public.

Many thanks,

Dave

Here is the “friendly” source on Henry II

To Walter, by the grace of God archbishop of Palermo, once associate, now lord and dearest friend in Christ, Peter of Blois sends greeting and wished continual success of your desires.

The blessed Lord God of Israel, who visited and made his mercy upon you, raised you up in need from the dust, so that you may sit with kings and princes and may hold the throne of glory. Terrible is the Lord in his judgments, and great in his compassion, very worthy of praise, for “His compassion is over all that he made.” [Psalm 145:9] Therefore of his compassion, which he has magnified in you, you have continual and steadfast memory, nor is that Judaic reproach seen in you: “They are not mindful of His benefits and of his wonders which he has shown to them.” [Psalm 77:11] There is nothing like ingratitude to provoke the indignation of the Most High: the very provocation of evils, deprivation of benefits, extermination of merits. On account of reverence for that one, who delivered you from contemptible poverty, may you exhibit most fully the office of humanity to the Cisalpine poor; truly those who go to, or return from the land in which walked the feet of our Lord, you could strike down in many ways, but you must fulfill their needs with the solace of more humane grace, just as your predecessors in office. You will recognize that the Father is himself Father of orphans and paupers, who exalts the humble, and humiliates the proud: for which on behalf of his poor pilgrims he will uncover you, so that they may find among you aid of customary goodness. And therefore let it frighten you, lest their clamor and complaint ascend to the ears of that one, who is terrible among the kings of the earth, who judges the case of the poor, and accuses on behalf of the meek of the earth.

For the golden sash and silken girdle, and samite, and other exotic goods, which through the bearer of gifts from your largess I receive not as much as I wish, but as much as I deserve, I give back thanks. Truly from this the ancient integrity of your liberality is clear, which neither intervening time nor distance of places, nor assumption of honor, nor other things destructive to friendship were able to undo.

Since however you have demanded from me with all insistence that I should send to you the shape and habits of the lord king of England in an accurate description – which exceeds my faculties, and for which indeed the vein of Mantuan genius would seem insufficient enough – I nevertheless will communicate to you what I know without envy and detraction. About David it was said [I Kings 16] to the commendation of his beauty, that he was red-haired; however you will know that the lord king has been red-haired so far, except that the coming of old age and gray hair has altered that color somewhat. His height is medium, so that neither does he appear great among the small, nor yet does he seem small among the great. His head is round, just as if the seat of great wisdom, and specially a shrine of lofty counsel. Such is the size of his head, that so it matches with his neck and with the whole body in proportionate moderation. His eyes are round, and white and plain, while he is of calm spirit; but in anger and disorder of heart they shine like fire and flash in fury. His hair is not in fear of the losses of baldness, nevertheless on top there is a tonsure of hairs; his leonine face is rather square. The eminence of his nose is weighed to the beauty of the whole body with natural moderation; curved legs, a horseman’s shins, broad chest, and a boxer’s arms all announce him as a man strong, agile and bold; nevertheless, in a certain joint of his foot the part of the toenail is grown into the flesh of his foot, to the vehement outrage of the whole foot. His hands testify grossly to the same neglect of his men; truly he neglects their care all the time; nor at any time, unless carrying birds, does he use gloves. Daily in mass, in counsels and in other public doings of the realm always from morning until vespers he stands on his feet. And, he never sits, unless riding a horse or eating, although he has shins greatly wounded and bruised with frequent blows of horses’ hooves. In a single day, if necessary, he can run through four or five day-marches and, thus foiling the plots of his enemies, frequently mocks their plots with surprise sudden arrivals; he wears boots without a fold, caps without decoration, light apparel. He is a passionate lover of woods; while not engaged in battles, he occupies himself with birds and dogs. For in fact his flesh would weigh him down enormously with a great burden of fat, if he did not subdue the insolence of his belly with fasts and exercise; and also in getting onto a horse, preserving the lightness of youth, he fatigues almost every day the most powerful for the labor. Truly he does not, like other kings, linger in his palace, but traveling through the provinces he investigates the doings of all, judging powerfully those whom he has made judges of others. No one is more cunning in counsel, more fiery in speech, more secure in the midst of dangers, more cautious in fortune, more constant in adversity. Whom once he has esteemed, with difficulty he unloves them; whom once he has hated, with difficulty he receives into the grace of his familiarity. Always are in his hands bow, sword, spear and arrow, unless he be in council or in books. As often as he is able to rest from cares and anxieties, he occupies himself by reading alone, or in a crowd of clerics he labors to untangle some knot of inquiry. For while your king knows his letters well, our king is more literate by far. Truly I have judged the abilities of both in learned matters. You know that the king of Sicily was my student for a year, and had had from you the basic arts of versification and literature; he obtained more benefit of knowledge through my industry and solicitude. However as soon as I had departed the kingdom, that one turned himself over to abject books in imperial leisure. But yet in the household of the lord king of the English every day is school, in the constant conversation of the most literate and discussion of questions. No one is more honest in speech than our king, more polite in eating, more moderate in drinking; no one is more magnificent in gift-giving, no one more munificent in alms-giving: and therefore his name is like poured oil, and the entire church of saints describes the alms of such a one. Our king is peaceable, victorious in war, glorious in peace: he is zealous for the things to be desired in this world and he procures peace for his people. He considers whatever pertains to the peace of the people, in whatever he speaks, in whatever he does; so that his people may rest, he incessantly takes on troubled and enormous labors. It aims to the peace of his people that he calls councils, that he makes laws, that he makes friendships, that he brings low the proud, that he threatens battles, that he launches terror to the princes. Also that immensity of money aims at the peace of his people, which he gives out, which he receives, which he gathers, which he disperses. In walls, in ramparts, in fortifications, in ditches, in enclosures of wild beasts and fish, and in palaces there is no one more subtle, and no one more magnificent to be found.

His most powerful and most noble father the count [of Anjou] extended his borders greatly; but the king added to his paternal lands with abundance in his strong hands the duchy of Normandy, the duchy of Brittany, the kingdom of England, the kingdom of Scotland, the kingdom of Ireland, the kingdom of Wales; he increased inestimably the titles of his magnificent inheritance. No one is more mild to the afflicted, no one more friendly to the poor, no one more unbearable to the proud; he always strives to oppress the proud with the semblance of divinity, to raise up the oppressed, and to stir up against swelling of pride continual persecutions and deadly troubles. When however he may according to the custom of the kingdom have had roles in making elections of most important and most powerful, he nevertheless always had his hands pure and free from all venality. I merely touch upon, I will not describe these and other endowments of soul as much as body, with which nature has marked him out before others; truly I confess my insufficiency and would believe that Cicero and Virgil themselves would sweat under such a labor. I have briefly tasted this little morsel of his appearance and habits at your request; truly I shall seem either to have undertaken an unbearable work, or to have cut back much about the magnificence of so great a man through jealousy. Nevertheless I, serving your charity, do what I can do, and what I know without envy and without detraction, I communicate with most prompt good will, and also among other great men, who write in praise of my lord, I put my might of devotion in a treasure chest along with the poor widow.

Greetings,

Next week we will look at medieval cathedrals.

We discussed what architecture reveals about a civilization,  and how specific buildings and designs reflect certain ideas and theological leanings.  In discussing cathedrals, I first wanted the  students to discuss their own churches.  Some observations we made were:

From a cosmological and societal perspective, height had great  importance to the medievals.  When I look at the intricate design and  strange creatures that adorn many cathedrals, I get the sense that  they were enjoying themselves.  Cathedrals took at least 30 years and often more than 50 to  build.  What does this say about them?  What church today could sell a  building program that would take at least 30 years to complete?   What does that say about us?  Were the medievals wasteful and foolish, or  is it us who have made worship a humdrum bare bones experience?  Do cathedrals, as Abbott Suger said, serve to ‘urge us onwards from the material to the immaterial?’

When we looked at images of a cathedral, their height immediately struck most of the students:

 Most likely, our involuntary reaction to these buildings would be to look up and feel small, and that indeed is part of the point.  They felt it important that you lose yourself in the face of immensity.  Clearly, this kind of architecture stressed the “otherness,” holiness, and transcendence of God.  Conversely, it does not emphasize the “nearness” of God.  But we must not have the idea that Gothic meant “dark, heavy, and foreboding.”  Rather, the medievals came up with their architectural advances specifically to let in more light.  They do not press us down to the ground (like pyramids, for example) but take us “upwards” to heaven.

Their architecture takes us back to their cosmology, which also emphasized height, as we saw last week.

Finally, we noted how it reflects the Medieval linking of the physical and spiritual.  They did this even with the location of their buildings, most especially in the Mont St. Michael Cathedral in Normandy, France.

The cathedral is dedicated to St. Michael the Archangel, who fights the Dragon in the book of Revelation.  They built it in the furthest point possible out into the sea, in itself a testimony and prayer that God and His angels are their first line of defense.  Mt. St. Michael perfectly illustrates what medievals believed not only about church, but about how physical things reflect spiritual reality.

Greetings,

This week we wrapped up our unit on the Crusades.  This difficult era raises many questions for us:

1. Did the Crusades attempt to stem the tide of Moslem aggression, or did they in fact cause more Moslem unity and a resurgence of Moslem power?

Some see the Crusades as a legitimate attempt to strike against Moslem expansionism.  Others argue that the Crusades forced the Moslems to unite once again. Having been invaded by the West, they determined to renew their attacks against them.  Do the Crusades bear any blame for the eventual collapse of Constantinople in 1453?

2. What role should faith and reason play in everyday affairs?

The Third Crusade is a good example of this problem.  Richard I fought his way to Jerusalem, but went home in part because he believed he could not hold the city even if he took it.  Therefore, it was pointless to risk his live and the lives of his men for nothing.  Some criticized his actions, saying something to the effect of, “You must step forward in faith, and watch God bless you.  This is what faith is all about!   You cannot think of this in practical terms. That is not thinking with faith.  Put  a foot into the Jordan, and then watch it part.”

We see this same question also running through the idea of the tragic Children’s Crusades, though here the Church strongly opposed Europe’s youth to no avail.* How should the balance between ‘faith’ and ‘reason’ guide our daily lives?  How should we answer the argument of many young people who participated in the ‘Children’s Crusades,’ which ran something like this:

• God has called his people to crusade for Jerusalem.  We believed so in 1097.  Has God changed?  He is the same, yesterday, today, forever.  Therefore, His call is the same.  We must still vie for the Holy Land.
• But how shall we go?  Let us not trust in princes, horses, or chariots (i.e. Ps. 20), let us know that our trust is in God, by marching out in true faith.  We see in Scripture that Moses led the Israelites to the Red Sea and it parted. Joshua marched around the city, and it fell.  Guided by God’s word, we shall emulate their example.  God shall make a way for us to take Jerusalem, and do so in a way so that all glory goes to him.
• Many argue that the problem with the Crusades was a lack of organization, supplies, or reinforcements.  This only betrays worldly thinking.  Would more supplies have made the Crusaders less greedy in 1204?  Would it have made them less violent inside Jerusalem’s walls in 1099?  No, the problem has been our lack of faith and obedience.
• Jesus pointed out the strength and purity of the faith of children.  Therefore, who better than the Church’s youth to undertake this venture?

We know that the Children’s Crusades (both of them) ended in utter disaster.  But what would you say in response to their argument?  How can you disprove them? What is faith’s relationship to reason?

3. The west attempted at least seven times at retaking Jerusalem.  What should this tell us about them?

• That they were foolishly stubborn?
• That they were intensely dedicated and willing to make great sacrifices for achieving their goal?
• That they were a people of faith willing to trust in spite of adversity?
• That they were foolish, naive, and used ‘faith’ as a cover for their prejudice and desire for gain?

In the end, the Crusades would have many unintended consequences.  The West was exposed to Greek literature and philosophy for the first time.  St. Thomas Aquinas, the Renaissance, and Exploration may all have been by-products of this, among other things.  The Crusades also raise many questions about using violence as means to bring about the Kingdom of God that are still with us.  If we agree with the Crusades, should we also agree with the bombing of abortion clinics?

Next week we will return to our look at Medieval Feudal society, and I hope that the students will be confronted with good questions.

Dave

*I should note that scholars debate when these crusades took place, and whether or not there was one crusade or two.  A few even doubt whether or not they were children at all, as some believe they may have been a mass of landless unemployed.  My rendering in class was the traditional story.

Greetings,

This week we focused on what is known as the First Crusade, the only Crusade to actually reach Jerusalem and conquer the city.  Perhaps more than other crusades, it was this first one that concentrated all that is admirable, strange, and horrifying about this period in the past.

We discussed last week the reasons and motivations for the Crusades, and whether or not one agrees with their reasons, we cannot deny the enormous difficulty of the proposed enterprise.  Capturing Jerusalem meant a journey of several hundred miles on foot without an established supply line, having to take at least one fortified city (Antioch) before even reaching Jerusalem, which would have thousands of defenders behind the large walls of the city.  Even today, parts of the the “old” city of Jerusalem still stands, and we can see what the Crusaders saw themselves 1000 years ago.

As anyone can see, taking the city would be a formidable task.

From Antioch, the  Crusaders approached the city barefoot, the standard mode of travel for all medieval pilgrims.  This fact alone shows that the Crusaders saw themselves not so much as warriors first and foremost, but on a spiritual quest.  Like Joshua they marched around the city.  This was no standard military operation.

Understandably, they were anxious to get inside the city and claim victory.  They had heard many stories of atrocities perpetrated against Christians in Jerusalem.  They saw with their own own Moslem defenders taunting them, smashing crosses and other relics in front of their eyes.  Moslems also apparently killed pages sent by the knights to get water, which horrified and enraged the Crusaders all the more.  Finally, they broke through and entered the city. One eyewitness described it this way. . .

When the morning came, our men eagerly rushed to be walls and dragged the [seige towers] forward, but the Saracens had constructed so many machines that for each one of ours they now had nine or ten. Thus they greatly interfered with our efforts. This was the ninth day, on which the priest had said that we would capture the city. But why do I delay so long? Our machines were now shaken apart by the blows of many stones, and our men lagged because they were very weary. However, there remained the mercy of the Lord which is never overcome nor conquered, but is always a source of support in times of adversity. One incident must not be omitted. Two women tried to bewitch one of the hurling machines, but a stone struck and crushed them, as well as three slaves, so that their lives were extinguished and the evil incantations averted.

By noon our men were greatly discouraged. They were weary and at the end of their resources. There were still many of the enemy opposing each one of our men; the walls were very high and strong, and the great resources and skill that the enemy exhibited in repairing their defenses seemed too great for us to overcome. But, while we hesitated, irresolute, and the enemy exulted in our discomfiture, the healing mercy of God inspired us and turned our sorrow into joy, for the Lord did not forsake us. While a council was being held to decide whether or not our [seige engines] should be withdrawn, for some were burned and the rest badly shaken to pieces, a knight on the Mount of Olives began to wave his shield to those who were with the Count and others, signalling them to advance. Who this knight was we have been unable to find out. At this signal our men began to take heart, and some began to batter down the wall, while others began to ascend by means of scaling ladders and ropes. Our archers shot burning firebrands, and in this way checked the attack that the Saracens were making upon the wooden towers of the Duke and the two Counts. These firebrands, moreover, were wrapped in cotton. This shower of fire drove the defenders from the walls. Then the Count quickly released the long drawbridge which had protected the side of the wooden tower next to the wall, and it swung down from the top, being fastened to the middle of the tower, making a bridge over which the men began to enter Jerusalem bravely and fearlessly. Among those who entered first were Tancred and the Duke of Lorraine, and the amount of blood that they shed on that day is incredible. All ascended after them, and the Saracens now began to suffer.

They took the city, but then tragically took it one step further, for most of the men went to and fro, killing any Moslem they could find, be they men, women, or children.  The information about this horrifying massacre came not from Moslem sources but directly from the Christians themselves.  One wrote that,

Strange to relate, however, at this very time when the city was practically captured by the Franks, the Saracens were still fighting on the other side, where the Count was attacking the wall as though the city should never be captured. But now that our men had possession of the walls and towers, wonderful sights were to be seen. Some of our men (and this was more merciful) cut off the heads of their enemies; others shot them with arrows, so that they fell from the towers; others tortured them longer by casting them into the flames. Piles of heads, hands, and feet were to be seen in the streets of the city. It was necessary to pick one’s way over the bodies of men and horses. But these were small matters compared to what happened at the Temple of Solomon, a place where religious services are ordinarily chanted. What happened there? If I tell the truth, it will exceed your powers of belief. So let it suffice to say this much, at least, that in the Temple and porch of Solomon, men rode in blood up to their knees and bridle reins. Indeed, it was a just and splendid judgment of God that this place should be filled with the blood of the unbelievers, since it had suffered so long from their blasphemies. The city was filled with corpses and blood. Some of the enemy took refuge in the Tower of David, and, petitioning Count Raymond for protection, surrendered the Tower into his hands.

Many fled to the roof of the temple of Solomon, and were shot with arrows, so that they fell to the ground dead. In this temple almost ten thousand were killed. Indeed, if you had been there you would have seen our feet colored to our ankles with the blood of the slain. But what more shall I relate? None of them were left alive; neither women nor children were spared.

When the pagans had been overcome, our men seized great numbers, both men and women, either killing them or keeping them captive, as they wished.

Both Moslems and Christians committed atrocities during the Crusades, but none would equal the shocking scale and brutality of the massacre at Jerusalem.  And yet, the Crusaders at the time interpreted their actions in almost strictly religious terms.  The account continues,

Now that the city was taken, it was well worth all our previous labors and hardships to see the devotion of the pilgrims at the Holy Sepulchre. How they rejoiced and exulted and sang a new song to the Lord! For their hearts offered prayers of praise to God, victorious and triumphant, which cannot be told in words. A new day, new joy, new and perpetual gladness, the consummation of our labor and devotion, drew forth from all new words and new songs. This day, I say, will be famous in all future ages, for it turned our labors and sorrows into joy and exultation; this day, I say, marks the justification of all Christianity, the humiliation of paganism, and the renewal of our faith. “This is the day which the Lord bath made, let us rejoice and be glad in it,” for on this day the Lord revealed Himself to His people and blessed them.

On this day, the Ides of July, Lord Adhemar, Bishop of Puy, was seen in the city by many people. Many also testified that he was the first to scale the wall, and that he summoned the knights and people to follow him. On this day, moreover, the apostles were cast forth from Jerusalem and scattered over the whole world. On this same day, the children of the apostles regained the city and fatherland for God and the fathers. This day, the Ides of July, shall be celebrated to the praise and glory of the name of God, who, answering the prayers of His Church, gave in trust and benediction to His children the city and fatherland which He bad promised to the fathers. On this day we chanted the Office of the Resurrection, since on that day He, who by His virtue arose from the dead, revived us through His grace. So much is to be said of this.

 The “Jersusalem” crosses they etched inside the Church of the Holy Sepulchre can still be seen today.

While we do know that some of the crusaders risked their lives to protect civilians, most joined in the carnage and plunder.  The stain left by this atrocity lingers to this day in minds of many Moslems.  This may seem strange to Americans, but Americans in general have very, very short historical memories.  This is probably because we are a new nation, and an immigrant nation.  Many who came here wanted to make a clean break with the past.  Also, Americans tend not to be rooted in the past with tradition, but look forward to the “next” thing.  Most other societies, and perhaps especially the Mid-East have a much deeper sense of the past, a sense only exacerbated by the significant decline of Moslem power since the mid 16th century.

I related to the students that, in most of the “mountain disaster” books I have read that the problems occur when the climbers descend.  We psychologically ramp ourselves up to reach the summit, and don’t always give as much thought to what comes next.

The crusaders faced a similar problem.  They took vows to liberate Jerusalem, but not to stay and defend it.  Many had been away from home for more then two years, and understandably wanted to return, having fulfilled their purpose.  The west simply could not rally the manpower needed to hold the city, and in 1187 the Moslems retook it.  Several more attempts to retake the city would again be made, the subject of our study next week.

Blessings,

Dave