Ruins of Gudhem Abbey, Founded in 1152 in Gudhem, Västergötland (Sweden) / Wikimedia commons
By Lisa M. Lane / 05.16.2016
Professor of History
MiraCosta College
Medieval Society and Communitarianism
The feudal social structure in three orders: those who pray (oratores), fight (bellatores) and work (laboratores) / Wikiwand, Creative Commons
The traditional classes of medieval society (those who work, those who pray, those who fight) help us understand people’s roles (and those left out of them). But this model is not only simplistic, it is based on the duties of individuals. But medieval society was not individualistic. In fact, few of the eras we’ve studied have much in the way of individualism, the idea that individual people have separate minds, jobs and destinies (both literally and spiritually).
This makes the past hard for modern Americans to understand. When historians say a society was based on kinship tribes, or the polis, we still see individuals as embodied within these institutions. We have to shift our thinking to a larger view. In a kinship system, only the family or tribe matters. All honors, possessions, errors of judgement on the part of any of the members reflects on the entire group. Ones role within the clan is much more important that what one feels or does as a separate person.
During the Middle Ages, the view was much larger than even clans or cities in terms of how people viewed themselves. All of “Christendom” was seen as a single unit. Individuals had responsibilities and access to the spiritual world through the Church, and this mattered deeply to most of them, particularly “those who worked”, i.e, ordinary people. Christendom was not even a religious concept – although defined by one religion, it was really about social interactions and responsibilities to others. Since few people ever travelled more than a few miles from their birthplace, their local ties were held together by their community. And all local communities were tied to others, and all were dedicated to God, but again, this is social as much as mystical.
Cathedrals and Visual Arts
Ploaghe, Chiesa di San Michele di Salvenero – Romanesque style church. Ploaghe is a comune (municipality) in the Province of Sassari in the Italian region Sardinia, located about 160 kilometres (99 mi) north of Cagliari and about 20 kilometres (12 mi) southeast of Sassari. / Wikimedia Commons
Cathedrals are great examples of communitarianism in a medieval urban setting. We know already that Gild Merchants became government in the growing towns. Towns that attracted visitors and produced goods that people wanted to buy became famous (Bruges for woolen cloth, for example). During the 11th and 12th centuries, many of these towns began expanding their local church in such a way as to make it the pride and joy of a city, and a tourist attraction. Cathedral building brings together the best of the Middle Ages: community, wealth, church power, fine crafts, advanced technology, and a recognition of a higher order.
The architectural style changed accordingly. Churches before the 11th century tended to be in the “Romanesque” style. The design both reflects and encourages the type of prayer that was popular then – head bowed in silent darkness to access the Lord. Romanesque churches are based on the Roman arch, which takes the weight of the walls above the windows, keeping them small, with thick walls needed to keep the roof high and the building large.
Notre Dame Cathedral, Paris – Gothic Style / Wikimedia Commons
The Gothic style used new techniques to raise the roof higher, and open up areas for large windows in the walls. This also both reflected and encouraged the idea of God as in the sky, upward instead of evoked through quiet prayer. If you think about it, quiet prayer is individual. But a cathedral encourages mass worship in a space so large that it serves as a community center as well as a house of prayer.
Cathedrals could take several lifetimes to build. Town governments, merchants, craft guilds and ordinary people raised money to build them. The best stonemasons, designers, mathematicians, glassmakers, metalworkers, sculptors were hired, usually by the bishop in charge. Relics were found or purchased or brought from Crusades to make the cathedral a place where pilgrims from far away would want to pray. And the larger and more extravagant the church, the more it was a tribute to God. And the Church. And the community.
Chartres Cathedral – Goth Style, Chartres, France / Photo by Tony Hisgett, Wikimedia Commons
Chartres Cathedral in France is a great example. Flying buttresses were a new technology that helped support the outer walls so the roof could be higher. Note the shape of the arches — they are pointed instead of rounded, allowing the weight to press partly from the sides instead of straight down on top of the arch. And the two different spires (one 12th century and one 16th century) show how long it took to complete, although the basic building was built in record time between 1194 and 1220. The effort, as with many cathedrals, was led by one determined man. In this case it was Bishop Fulbert.
Its key relic was the Sancta Camisia, a tunic said to have been worn by the Virgin Mary. The relic had survived multiple fires, even the burning down of the original 12th century wooden cathedral.
Relics might include pieces of the True Cross (there were so many of these that the cross would have been 3,000 miles tall), or body parts of saints. The “cult of saints” was very important to medieval people. The hierarchy of the Church, with its intellectuals and powerful men, could seem very distant from the people. But saints had been ordinary people in extraordinary circumstances, lauded by the church for their extreme Christianity. Saints were the intermediaries between ordinary people and the power of God. One prayed to saints to have them intercede on ones behalf. And people, even very good Christians, could not become saints without a witnessed miracle. Their relics provided a focus for prayer and access to their power as one prayed.
Bernard of Angers: Miracles of St. Foy (1010)
The day before the vigil of Saint Foy, [Vuitbert] had fallen to sleep when he saw before him a young girl of indescribable beauty. Her appearance was like that of an angel. Her face shone and appeared with droplets of rose and scarlet. Her expression surpassed all human beauty. Her size was as had been read that it was in the time of her passion, that of an adolescent, not yet of mature age. She wore majestic clothing entirely brocaded of gold and surrounded by a variety of subtle colors. Her wide sleeves, carefully pleated, fell to her feet. She wore on her head a diadem decorated with four gems from which radiated extraordinary light. The smallness of her body seems to me to have signified nothing more than that at the time of her passion, as we have said, one reads that she had been a youth. . . .
Thus the saint, leaning on the bedpost softly touched the right cheek of the sleeper and whispered to him, “Vuitbert, are you asleep?” He answered, “Who is there?” “I am Saint Foy,” she replied. “My lady, why have you come to me?” “Simply to see you.” Vuitbert thanked her, and Saint Foy replied, “Do you know me?” He recognized her as if he had already seen her and answered, “Yes, I see you well, my lady, and I recognize you perfectly.” “Tell me how you are and how your affairs are doing.” “Very well, my Lady, and all is going very well. Everything succeeds for me by the grace of God.” “What,” she said, “how can all be going well when you cannot see the light of the heavens?” But he, as happens in dreams, thought that he could see although he could not. This last question reminded him of his torn out eyes. “How could I see,” he asked, “when, last year, while returning from your feast, alas, I lost my eyes by the brutality of an unjust master?”
The saint said, “He offended God too much and raised the anger of the Creator, he who harmed you so seriously in your body without your having merited it. But if tomorrow, on the vigil of my martyrdom, you go to Conques, and you buy two candles and place one before the altar of the Holy Savior, the other before the altar where my bodily clay is placed, you will merit to enjoy the complete restoration of your eyes. For with a great supplication concerning the injury done you I moved the piety of the divine Judge to mercy. I bothered God by my incessant prayers until I obtained for you this cure.” After these words she still insisted and urged him to go to Conques and encouraged him because he hesitated before the expense. “A thousand people, whom you have never before seen,” she said, “will give to you. So that you can easily complete the present business, go quickly at dawn to the church of this parish, (this was the parish who had deprived him of his eyes, which since ancient times was called Espeyrac) and hear Mass there, and you will receive six pence.”
He thanked her as a benefactor deserved and the celestial power left him. He awoke immediately and went to the church where he told his vision. People thought that he was delirious. But not at all discouraged, he went through the crowd asking each in order to obtain twelve pence. Finally a certain Hugo, moving apart from the others, opened his purse and offered him six pence and one obole, that is, a little more than the vision had announced. This first success increased his confidence.
What more can I say? He arrived at Conques, told his vision to the monks, bought the candles, presented them to the altar, and started the vigil before the golden statue of the holy martyr. Around midnight it seemed to him that he could see as though two small glowing berries, no larger than the fruit of a laurel, came from above and buried themselves deeply into his gouged eye sockets. At the shock, his thoughts became muddled and he fell asleep. But at the hour of lauds the chanting of the psalms awoke him and he seemed to see spots of light and the silhouettes of people moving about, but he had an unbelievable headache and only half conscious he thought that he was dreaming. . . . He raised his hands to his eyes and touched those windows of his flesh returned to the light and entirely reconstituted. He went to tell his neighbors and broke forth in praises for the immeasurable magnificence of Christ. This causes an indescribable rejoicing. Each person asked himself if he was dreaming or if he had actually seen an extraordinary miracle. . . .
Notice how in this story, Vuitbert’s sight cannot be restored until he has re-entered the community of all Christians, and done so by asking their help. This is where communitarianism, worship, and daily life come together.
The Meeting at the Golden Gate, fresco by Giotto di Bondone, c.1304-1306 / Scrovegni (Arena) Chapel, Padua, Italy
Medieval art was showcased in the churches and cathedrals, in stained glass windows and frescoes. Frescoes were built into a wall, because they were painted with pigments mixed with plaster. Giotto, who lived later in the High Middle Ages, created such lifelike, modern-looking frescoes that some consider him the first Renaissance painter instead of a medieval painter. He used figures in modern dress to recreate Bible stories in a contemporary town setting. For example, The Meeting at the Golden Gate (1304-1306), portraying the parents of the Virgin Mary:
Here, James Burke explains briefly why so many of these paintings, despite the genius in their composition and portrayals, look to use as though the artists didn’t know what they were doing. They did:
So when we look at art, as we did with Greek and Hellenistic art, we have to keep in mind what the society was interested in expressing. Representing the “real” world wasn’t near as interesting to medieval artists as the ideal (in this case Christian) worldview. That makes it more similar to Hellenic Greek art than the other eras we’ve studied.
From the Psalter of Robert de Lindesey, This psalter was written and illuminated for Robert de Lindesey, abbot of the Benedictine abbey at Peterborough in England. The illustrations are distinguished by their refined elegance and noble design, eschewing the otherwise widespread use in England of proliferating flower imagery or grotesques. 1220-1222 / Manuscript (Ms. 59), Society of Antiquaries, London
The style of Gothic art (that is, art of the 11th-14th centuries) was strongly influenced by Byzantine art, which had a lot of color. One of the best ways to look at medieval art is the illuminations in manuscript books. What we call a “book” today is actually a “codex”, since book means anything on pages. A codex is what we would call a bound book, rather than a scroll or tablet. Codices (that’s the plural) were supplanting scrolls by about the 6th century. The paper was papyrus (from Egypt) or parchment (made from sheepskin) so codices were expensive objects. Some were heavily illustrated, or illuminated, by monks or painters’ guilds.
Stonemasons and sculptors created Gothic beauty too. As with Greek sculpture, with medieval sculptures we have the wrong impression. The white stone sculptures surrounding doorways and lining up across facades were not plain white stone – they were usually painted. Nowadays the stained glass windows stand out because they are color against white, but in medieval times you would have been surrounded by colors.
New Religious Orders
Despite the strong traditions and the control of the Church, new ideas came in that threatened orthodoxy and community. Merchants break the traditional model of society because they travel widely. A merchant or craft guild keeps the middle class tied to a place, but merchants travel and bring things (and ideas) back with them. Following the First Crusade in 1095, trade was opened with the east, source of silks, fine art, exotic languages, spices…oh, and Zoroastrianism, Greek Christianity, and Islam. In towns and universities, new ideas were discussed with great openness, and groups of people began to form around what the Church considered heresies.
Innocent III (whom you may recall made King John of England submit to his authority) was the pope to deal with these heresies, the most serious of which was centered around the town of Albi, France. The heretics called themselves Cathari (the pure), and rejected all the earthly aspects of the Church. Theirs was a dualistic view of good (heavenly) and evil (earthly). They thus believed the body to be inherently sinful, so Jesus could not have taken both bodily and spiritual form, and the body cannot be resurrected, only the soul. They would not make war, because Jesus said to turn the other cheek. As the heresy spread, Innocent called on the King of France to put it down. The result was an internal Crusade of great lords, who ultimately murdered Albigensian men, women and children.
Dream of Innocent III, fresco by Giotto di Bondone / Upper Church, San Francesco, Assisi
Other efforts to suppress heresy were less bloody. Innocent III had heard of a man who was preaching in Assisi. This man, Francis, was the son of a draper (clothmaker), and had thrown off all his wordly goods (literally – he stripped naked in the town square) for a life of poverty and preaching in town. Innocent claimed that he had a dream where he saw Francis holding up a crumbling church. Innocent approved Francis and his followers as an “order” of the church, and they became “friars”. Unlike monks in monasteries, friars preach in towns. Franciscans were a mendicant order, begging their food from those they spoke to.
Of course, Innocent III also approved the group of Dominic, the Dominicans (1214) or Black Friars, whose group was originally reformed Albigensians and who took a major role against them in the crusade. Dominicans later became popular for supervising the Inquisition, another way to get heretics to recant and come back to the fold of the Church.
OK, so to get away from forced conversions let’s look at the monasteries.
You may recall that the Benedictine order had been founded back in the 6th century, and were into manual labor as well as prayer to get closer to God. Over time they, and other monasteries, had become wealthy. One reason was that monasteries tended to be given bad land, donated by a lord who wanted to have a monastery there to pray for him and his family, but didn’t want to provide his best soil. That was fine with the monks, who usually wanted to live away from the hustle and bustle of villages and castles. To be self-sufficient, some monasteries became particularly good at reclaiming bad land, and making it fruitful, for example in the planting of grapes. This is how many monasteries got a reputation for making good wine, and raising sheep for good wool, and selling it.
But this caused a problem, because Benedictine monasteries became so wealthy and involved in commerce and daily life that they were no longer retreats from the world. In 1098 a band of French monks left their monastery in Cluny to found a new one that would truly follow the Rule of St Benedict. Named after their new location, they were called Cistercians, and their adventure really shows the difficulty of being good at what you do! Although they meant to get away from society by founding their monastery on marshland, they drained the marsh and got really good at engineering and agriculture. In 1113, a “daughter house” was founded by Bernard of Clairvaux, who would oppose Peter Abelard (see below). There were 500 Cistercian houses by the end of that century, located all over Europe, and they were, ironically, very wealthy and splendid.
From the Vienna Dioscurides, an early 6th-century Byzantine Greek illuminated manuscript of De Materia Medica by Dioscorides in uncial script. It is an important and rare example of a late antique scientific text. c.AD 515. / Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, Vienna
Monks served the community. They were called in by lords and popes for their knowledge of science and engineering. Some monks had come to the monasteries after fighting in the Crusades or leading lives in business or politics. While they might have rejected the military or personal wealth in favor of the religious life, they also brought their knowledge. Almost all monasteries had, in addition to their farms, herb gardens planted with medicinal herbs, and the monastery was the place to go for medical knowledge if your local wise woman’s herbal remedies weren’t enough.
Women’s Work
Childbirth, from the Lutrell Psalter / British Library, London
Women dominated the fields of medicine and midwifery in the Middle Ages. The positions they held during this period, as with men, depended on their class. Although technically not allowed to enroll in university medical schools, we have a number of sources suggesting that they did. This would include Trotula of Salerno, who was chair of medicine in the 11th century, and wrote a textbook on gynecology. Salerno had one of the first medical schools and, possibly benefitting from the Islamic Golden Age, was advanced in treatment and divided their hospitals into wards.
Women of all classes worked hard. Aristocratic women had major responsibilities on the manor, and many noble daughters were sought out as wives if they had skills in running large households. They supervised household servants, food preparation, storage of goods, paying bills and much more. When their noble husband was away, they also organized defense and aspects of trade and business as well as the agricultural doings of the estate. For this reason, good artistocratic wives had to be literate and trained in many different areas.
Townswomen had even more independence and responsibility, because they were often in charge of the family business. In crafts, they ran the workshops with apprentices when the master was busy or away, all while watching the children. Merchant women were usually in charge of sales while their husbands did the travelling.
Peasant women, of course, worked extremely hard at manual labor, and often brought their babies and children out to the fields with them. As soon as a child could work the land, s/he was needed.
Chivalry
Townswomen and peasant women did not, however, benefit from the new cultural rage of the artistocracy: chivalry. Chivalry was at first about horsemanship, and likely emerged as a military code of behavior and honor among mounted knights.
Original statue of Our Lady of Fatima seen before Mass honoring Mary at Vatican, Rome / Wikimedia Commons
Chivalric culture emerged as a way to apply this code of behavior to elite society. The most interesting aspect of chilvalry is the elevation of women to an untouchable, inspirational status. This idea may have derived from the Byzantine Empire, and have come into Europe with the Crusaders. In the east, the Virgin Mary was worshipped more than Jesus. This may have been an evolution of the Hellenistic superiority of Isis-Aphrodite, the all-powerful goddess. “Mariolatry” may have helped mitigate the Church’s view of women as representing Eve, the evil temptress in the garden.
The greatest court of chivalry was that of Eleanor of Aquitaine. Eleanor had first been married to the King of France, but got the marriage annulled and married Henry II of England, with whom she had four children, including King John (yes, the Magna Carta guy). It was Eleanor’s huge landholdings in France that created Henry’s Angevin Empire (Angevin named for him, the Count of Anjou). But Eleanor spent much of her time in France, and her court was open to troubadors, acrobats, and entertainers of all sorts, from near and far. Her wealth patronized many artists who spread the literary and musical works of chilvaric culture.
The songs sung of chivalric deeds were called “chansons de geste”. One of the most popular was the story of Roland, who had brought up the rear in Charlemagne’s guard, against the evil Saracens:
Song of Roland (11th century)
Rolland (Rollanz) and his companion Oliver fight the enemy from the rear of Charlemagne’s guard.1070 “Comrade Rollanz, once sound your olifant! If Charles hear, where in the pass he stands, I pledge you now, they’ll turn again, the Franks.” “Never, by God,” then answers him Rollanz, “Shall it be said by any living man,
1075 That for pagans I took my horn in hand! Never by me shall men reproach my clan. When I am come into the battle grand, And blows lay on, by hundred, by thousand, Of Durendal bloodied you’ll see the brand.
1080 Franks are good men; like vassals brave they’ll stand; Nay, Spanish men from death have no warrant.” ….
1110 When Rollant sees that now must be combat, More fierce he’s found than lion or leopard; The Franks he calls, and Oliver commands: “Now say no more, my friends, nor thou, comrade. That Emperour, who left us Franks on guard,
1115 A thousand score stout men he set apart, And well he knows, not one will prove coward. Man for his lord should suffer with good heart, Of bitter cold and great heat bear the smart, His blood let drain, and all his flesh be scarred.
1120 Strike with thy lance, and I with Durendal, With my good sword that was the King’s reward. So, if I die, who has it afterward Noble vassal’s he well may say it was.” … To Spanish pass is Rollanz now going On Veillantif, his good steed, galloping; He is well armed, pride is in his bearing,
1155 He goes, so brave, his spear in hand holding, He goes, its point against the sky turning; A gonfalon all white thereon he’s pinned, Down to his hand flutters the golden fringe: Noble his limbs, his face clear and smiling.
1160 His companion goes after, following, The men of France their warrant find in him. Proudly he looks towards the Sarrazins, And to the Franks sweetly, himself humbling; And courteously has said to them this thing:
1165 “My lords barons, go now your pace holding! Pagans are come great martyrdom seeking; Noble and fair reward this day shall bring, Was never won by any Frankish King.” Upon these words the hosts are come touching. … The count Rollanz, he canters through the field, Holds Durendal, he well can thrust and wield,
1340 Right great damage he’s done the Sarrazines You’d seen them, one on other, dead in heaps, Through all that place their blood was flowing clear! In blood his arms were and his hauberk steeped, And bloodied o’er, shoulders and neck, his steed.
1345 And Oliver goes on to strike with speed; No blame that way deserve the dozen peers, For all the Franks they strike and slay with heat, Pagans are slain, some swoon there in their seats, Says the Archbishop: “Good baronage indeed!”
1350 “Monjoie” he cries, the call of Charles repeats.
[Roland is mortally wounded] 1355 But Rollant felt that death had made a way Down from his head till on his heart it lay; Beneath a pine running in haste he came, On the green grass he lay there on his face; His olifant and sword beneath him placed,
2360 Turning his head towards the pagan race, Now this he did, in truth, that Charles might say (As he desired) and all the Franks his race; — ‘Ah, gentle count; conquering he was slain!’ — He owned his faults often and every way,
2365 And for his sins his glove to God upraised. But Rollant feels he’s no more time to seek; Looking to Spain, he lies on a sharp peak, And with one hand upon his breast he beats: “Mea Culpa! God, by Thy Virtues clean 2370 Me from my sins, the mortal and the mean, Which from the hour that I was born have been Until this day, when life is ended here!” Holds out his glove towards God, as he speaks Angels descend from heaven on that scene.
I’ve always found it interesting that Roland dies a hero, I guess because he didn’t ask for help. But wouldn’t it have been smarter to blow the damn horn and get some reinforcements?
A statue of Roland at Metz railway station, France / Wikimedia Commons
The other major aspect of chivalric culture was something we call “courtly love”. This is the practice of male-female relations among the elite, according to the chivalric standard. Men, like Roland, are to be brave and succeed (or die) in war. Women are to be pure and untouchable. The ideal setup was a noble knight, going off to war against the infidel, inspired by his pure love for his liege lord’s noble wife. As wars were represented in tournaments, these knights would earn a token from the lady with their love, and carry it into battle. It’s always looked to me like Mariolatry incarnate, the woman standing in for idealized love and goodness, untouchable and inspirational, like the Virgin Mary. (In fact, of course, some knights and lords’ wives unfortunately fell in love, about which other great stories were written, like Tristan and Isolde, or the stories of Lancelot and Guinevere in the King Arthur legends.)
For more earthy expressions of love, between free and consenting adults, chilvalry promoted an idea of love that was based on the male emotions:
Andreas Capellanus: The Art of Courtly Love (1174-1186)
1. Marriage is no real excuse for not loving.
2. He who is not jealous cannot love.
3. No one can be bound by a double love.
4. It is well known that love is always increasing or decreasing.
5. That which a lover takes against his will of his beloved has no relish.
6. Boys do not love until they arrive at the age of maturity.
7. When one lover dies, a widowhood of two years is required of the survivor.
8. No one should be deprived of love without the very best of reasons.
9. No one can love unless he is impelled by the persuasion of love.
10. Love is always a stranger in the home of avarice.
11. It is not proper to love any woman whom one should be ashamed to seek to marry.
12. A true lover does not desire to embrace in love anyone except his beloved.
13. When made public love rarely endures.
14. The easy attainment of love makes it of little value; difficulty of attainment makes it prized.
15. Every lover regularly turns pale in the presence of his beloved.
16. When a lover suddenly catches sight of his beloved his heart palpitates.
17. A new love puts to flight an old one.
18. Good character alone makes any man worthy of love.
19. If love diminishes, it quickly fails and rarely revives.
20. A man in love is always apprehensive.
21. Real jealousy always increases the feeling of love.
22. Jealousy, and therefore love, are increased when one suspects his beloved.
23. He whom the thought of love vexes, eats and sleeps very little.
24. Every act of a lover ends with in the thought of his beloved.
25. A true lover considers nothing good except what he thinks will please his beloved.
26. Love can deny nothing to love.
27. A lover can never have enough of the solaces of his beloved.
28. A slight presumption causes a lover to suspect his beloved.
29. A man who is vexed by too much passion usually does not love.
30. A true lover is constantly and without intermission possessed by the thought of his beloved.
31. Nothing forbids one woman being loved by two men or one man by two women.
Notice how love is supposed to be intense, secret, jealous. It is an imitation of the chilvalric relation between knight and untouchable lady.
Sexuality and the Church
But idealized forms of love could only go so far when it came to lust, and Mariolatry could only go so far when it came to the Church’s view of sexual relations. The views of the early Church fathers held sway here, and most of them were highly distrustful of the body and its functions. This may have been for the same reason Augustine separated the City of God from the City of Man, like separating Christianity from Rome, and good from evil. While most dualistic systems don’t necessarily see the body as evil, there was a definite anti-sexual tendency in the writings of the Church fathers.
St Paul recommended that people who couldn’t control their sexual impulses should get married, but since when he marries it entangles him even more in earthly affairs, it’s better to be celibate. St Augustine himself affirmed Paul’s view, and added that experiencing lust was what caused Adam and Eve to cover their bodies, so there should be no lust in married sex at all – it should be done solely for procreation (read him yourself). 19th century historian Edward Gibbon, who wrote The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, explains that this was why divorce and remarriage are forbidden. It is also likely that procreation is emphasized because of the population decline in the first centuries of the new millenium.
By the Middle Ages, these attitudes about sex had been codified and were dogma in the Church, and thus in Christendom. We know which sexual acts were being enjoyed by medieval people, because the Church published penitentials (books of penance) so that priests knew what penance to assign for each sin. The extraordinary detail in these penitentials makes it clear that the Church knew exactly what everyone was doing in bed, and for the most part disapproved, particularly of any act that did not lead to procreation. This 11th century churchman discusses the gradations of sins inherent in gay love.
Scholastic Philosophy
Roman copy in marble of a Greek bronze bust of Aristotle by Lysippus, c.330 BC / National Museum of Rome
Thinking about higher matters was, of course, a specialty of the medieval universities. Universities could begin as monastic schools, or they may have emerged from cathedral schools (as did the University of Paris), or they were created by guilds of scholars. At first universities were places to study advanced specialties, like medicine or theology. But the 11th and 12th centuries, exposed to new ideas from the east, were thirsty for knowledge. Governments began to form schools, teaching the classical curriculum, which eventually included the areas of knowledge noted by Aristotle, including rhetoric, logic and arithmetic. In fact, the recovery of Aristotle’s work is considered a turning point. Much of it had been preserved and translated into Arabic by scholars like ibn Sina (Avicenna) and Ibn Rushd (Averroes), who represent the Golden Age of Islam. In Muslim Spain, Jewish scholars were working to translate Aristotle into Latin. These translations gradually became available, and their emphasis on logic caused the development of scholasticism.
Scholasticism was the movement in European universities that attempted to apply Aristotelian logic to the writings of Christianity. To me it’s an effort to reconcile faith and reason, by using logic to discuss and explain matters of faith which were, after all, written about by human beings.
Peter Abelard (12th century) was a scholar at the University of Paris, and his efforts at scholasticism may have simply been too much, too soon. He openly questioned the works of the Church fathers, even though his use of logic always affirmed the faith in the documents.
Peter Abelard: Sic et Non (1120)
There are many seeming contradictions and even obscurities in the innumerable writings of the church fathers. Our respect for their authority should not stand in the way of an effort on our part to come at the truth. The obscurity and contradictions in ancient writings may be explained upon many grounds, and may be discussed without impugning the good faith and insight of the fathers. A writer may use different terms to mean the same thing, in order to avoid a monotonous repetition of the same word. Common, vague words may be employed in order that the common people may understand; and sometimes a writer sacrifices perfect accuracy in the interest of a clear general statement. Poetical, figurative language is often obscure and vague.
Not infrequently apocryphal works are attributed to the saints. Then, even the best authors often introduce the erroneous views of others and leave the reader to distinguish between the true and the false. Sometimes, as Augustine confesses in his own case, the fathers ventured to rely upon the opinions of others.
Doubtless the fathers might err; even Peter, the prince of the apostles, fell into error: what wonder that the saints do not always show themselves inspired? The fathers did not themselves believe that they, or their companions, were always right. Augustine found himself mistaken in some cases and did not hesitate to retract his errors. He warns his admirers not to look upon his letters as they would upon the Scriptures, but to accept only those things which, upon examination, they find to be true.
All writings belonging to this class are to be read with full freedom to criticize, and with no obligation to accept unquestioningly; otherwise they way would be blocked to all discussion, and posterity be deprived of the excellent intellectual exercise of debating difficult questions of language and presentation. But an explicit exception must be made in the case of the Old and New Testaments. In the Scriptures, when anything strikes us as absurd, we may not say that the writer erred, but that the scribe made a blunder in copying the manuscripts, or that there is an error in interpretation, or that the passage is not understood. The fathers make a very careful distinction between the Scriptures and later works. They advocate a discriminating, not to say suspicious, use of the writings of their own contemporaries.
In view of these considerations, I have ventured to bring together various dicta of the holy fathers, as they came to mind, and to formulate certain questions which were suggested by the seeming contradictions in the statements. These questions ought to serve to excite tender readers to a zealous inquiry into truth and so sharpen their wits. The master key of knowledge is, indeed, a persistent and frequent questioning. Aristotle, the most clear-sighted of all the philosophers, was desirous above all things else to arouse this questioning spirit, for in his Categories he exhorts a student as follows: “It may well be difficult to reach a positive conclusion in these matters unless they be frequently discussed. It is by no means fruitless to be doubtful on particular points. ” By doubting we come to examine, and by examining we reach the truth.
Like Socrates, he taught new techniques to young people which were not approved by others. The biggest “other” here was St Bernard of Clairvaux, the founder of the wealthy “daughter” Cistercian monasteries. He denounced Abelard’s teachings, succeeded in getting Abelard’s work declared heretical, and eventually defeated him at the council of bishops, forcing Abelard to retire.
(On a side note, Abelard had a rough life anyway. He fell in love with Heloise, in most ways his intellectual equal. They had an affair and didn’t want to get married because of Abelard’s career, but she gave birth to his son, so they married in secret to placate her uncle, who then told everyone. When Abelard sequestered Heloise in a monastery, her uncle thought Abelard was forcing Heloise to become a nun, and had him castrated by force in the middle of the night.)
I believe that the 12th century simply wasn’t ready for what Abelard was doing — it seemed too much like doubting the writings of the Church fathers. But this was the time when new heresies and ideas were entering Europe and affecting the people. By the 13th century, the time of Pope Innocent III, the Church was ready to tackle the new heresies with any tools available, even Aristotelian logic.
I think this is why Abelard was maligned, but Thomas Aquinas became a saint. He used a similar method to Abelard, applying logic to church writings.
Aquinas: Summa Theologica (c. 1270)
Article 3: Whether God exists.
Thus we proceed to the third point. It seems that God does not exist, for if one of two contrary things were infinite, its opposite would be completely destroyed. By “God,” however, we mean some infinite good. Therefore, if God existed evil would not. Evil does exist in the world, however. Therefore God does not exist.
Furthermore, one should not needlessly multiply elements in an explanation. It seems that we can account for everything we see in this world on the assumption that God does not exist. All natural effects can be traced to natural causes, and all contrived effects can be traced to human reason and will. Thus there is no need to suppose that God exists.
But on the contrary God says, “I am who I am” (Ex. 3:14).
Response: It must be said that God’s existence can be proved in five ways. The first and most obvious way is based on the existence of motion. It is certain and in fact evident to our senses that some things in the world are moved. Everything that is moved, however, is moved by something else, for a thing cannot be moved unless that movement is potentially within it. A thing moves something else insofar as it actually exists, for to move something is simply to actualize what is potentially within that thing. Something can be led thus from potentiality to actuality only by something else which is already actualized. For example, a fire, which is actually hot, causes the change or motion whereby wood, which is potentially hot, becomes actually hot. Now it is impossible that something should be potentially and actually the same thing at the same time, although it could be potentially and actually different things. For example, what is actually hot cannot at the same moment be actually cold, although it can be actually hot and potentially cold. Therefore it is impossible that a thing could move itself, for that would involve simultaneously moving and being moved in the same respect. Thus whatever is moved must be moved by something, else, etc. This cannot go on to infinity, however, for if it did there would be no first mover and consequently no other movers, because these other movers are such only insofar as they are moved by a first mover. For example, a stick moves only because it is moved by the hand. Thus it is necessary to proceed back to some prime mover which is moved by nothing else, and this is what everyone means by “God.”
The second way is based on the existence of efficient causality. We see in the world around us that there is an order of efficient causes. Nor is it ever found (in fact it is impossible) that something is its own efficient cause. If it were, it would be prior to itself, which is impossible. Nevertheless, the order of efficient causes cannot proceed to infinity, for in any such order the first is cause of the middle (whether one or many) and the middle of the last. Without the cause, the effect does not follow. Thus, if the first cause did not exist, neither would the middle and last causes in the sequence. If, however, there were an infinite regression of efficient causes, there would be no first efficient cause and therefore no middle causes or final effects, which is obviously not the case. Thus it is necessary to posit some first efficient cause, which everyone calls “God.”
The third way is based on possibility and necessity. We find that some things can either exist or not exist, for we find them springing up and then disappearing, thus sometimes existing and sometimes not. It is impossible, however, that everything should be such, for what can possibly not exist does not do so at some time. If it is possible for every particular thing not to exist, there must have been a time when nothing at all existed. If this were true, however, then nothing would exist now, for something that does not exist can begin to do so only through something that already exists. If, therefore, there had been a time when nothing existed, then nothing could ever have begun to exist, and thus there would be nothing now, which is clearly false. Therefore all beings cannot be merely possible. There must be one being which is necessary. Any necessary being, however, either has or does not have something else as the cause of its necessity. If the former, then there cannot be an infinite series of such causes, any more than there can be an infinite series of efficient causes, as we have seen. Thus we must to posit the existence of something which is necessary and owes its necessity to no cause outside itself. That is what everyone calls “God.”
The fourth way is based on the gradations found in things. We find that things are more or less good, true, noble, etc.; yet when we apply terms like “more” and “less” to things we imply that they are closer to or farther from some maximum. For example, a thing is said to be hotter than something else because it comes closer to that which is hottest. Therefore something exists which is truest, greatest, noblest, and consequently most fully in being; for, as Aristotle says, the truest things are most fully in being. That which is considered greatest in any genus is the cause of everything is that genus, just as fire, the hottest thing, is the cause of all hot things, as Aristotle says. Thus there is something which is the cause of being, goodness, and every other perfection in all things, and we call that something “God.”
The fifth way is based on the governance of things. We see that some things lacking cognition, such as natural bodies, work toward an end, as is seen from the fact that they always (or at least usually) act the same way and not accidentally, but by design. Things without knowledge tend toward a goal, however, only if they are guided in that direction by some knowing, understanding being, as is the case with an arrow and archer. Therefore, there is some intelligent being by whom all natural things are ordered to their end, and we call this being “God.”
Aquinas’ work is considered the pinnacle of scholasticism, and it served the need to convince people to return to orthodoxy, at a time when people were ready to argue against the Church’s teachings rather than just accept it.