Credo exhibition in Paderborn

Credo: The Christianisation of Medieval Europe

Although he rejected worldly power (Jn 18:36), Christ is the true King over all the nations (cf. Rom 15:12), the King of Kings (Rev. 17:14). On this great feast of Christ the King, it seems relevant to reflect on the way in which Christianity has spread to incorporate the different cultures of the nations. Here is one part of the story, the evangelisation of Europe, as told in a remarkable exhibition earlier this year: Credo - The Christianisation of Medieval Europe.

Europe is the Faith and the Faith is Europe. This famous statement by Hilaire Belloc is wrong in many ways – if the Faith is Catholic, how can it be purely European? – but it touches upon a fundamental historical fact. The Catholic faith is built upon a series of extraordinary events on the edges of Europe that subsequently, and apparently against all odds, dominated the Roman Empire and built an entire civilisation, what we call 'Christendom', on European soil. How this remarkable story unfolded was the subject of a major exhibition in Paderborn earlier this year, entitled Credo: The Christianisation of Medieval Europe.

Paderborn was an apposite location. This has long been a strongly Catholic city in North Rhine-Westphalia; it was an Imperial city under Charlemagne, and refuge for Pope Leo III; and in recent years has mounted two other great medieval exhibitions ('Charlemagne 799', and 'Canossa 1077'). I travelled from Oxford to see this Credo exhibition (and visit family in the area), having been alerted by an article in the Tablet. The exhibition was impressive for its impressive variety of treasures and artefacts, from the Mediterranean to Greenland, over more than a millennium of fascinating history. The depth of coverage was superb. But, above all, the exhibition told a compelling story.

That story began with the inculturation of Christianity from its very beginnings. In Part 1: Lux Mundi, visitors were treated to objects, both ordinary and precious, that revealed a two-way process of adaptation. Christianity had to adopt and appropriate pagan symbols and practices, but in turn transformed them in radical ways and left a new mark on the wider culture. Pagan notions of the vita felix (happy life), pastoral scenes of good shepherding, and so on, were quickly seen in a newly Christian light. And yet Christianity was unusual, almost unique, in rejecting the polytheistic cults of the  Roman Empire. A beautiful papyrus of Romans 8:27-35, dating from the 2nd century(!), was one of the first marvels to greet us, testifying to the great faith of the early Christians in the face of persecution: If God is for us, who can be against us?

2nd-century papyrus of Romans 8

Three centuries later, however, Christianity had become tolerated and promoted after Constantine's conversion in 312. After his vision of the Christian symbol 'Chi-Rho' (short for 'Christ') and subsequent victory at the Milvian bridge, Christianity came fully out of the shadows. But only with the edict Cunctos Populos, issued by the Three Emperors in 380, did it become the official state religion. The great Ecumenical Councils (on which, see our Godzdogz series Councils of Faith) hammered out the doctrinal structure of Trinitarian faith and a great outpouring of theological and spiritual works came from the mouths and quills of the ancient Church Fathers. The exhibition included the oldest Latin manuscript of the Bible (5th century) and early copies of St Jerome and St Augustine. These classical scholars and saints witnessed the terrible decline of the Roman Empire and looked instead to the Catholic Church to preserve all that was best in it. Rome was 'the brightest light in the world'; and 'if Rome perishes', asked Jerome, 'what is safe?'

This much is incontrovertible, that the Church preserved much of the ancient learning in its monasteries from the barbarian onslaught. Through the Church, this civilisation of ideas permeated to the farthest corners of the Empire: I saw one copy of Pliny's Natural History from Northumbria. After Augustine's mission to England, familiar to a man of Kent like me, there followed the less well-known story of Canterbury's blossoming into a major centre of manuscript illumination. One magnificent specimen on show was the Codex Aureus ('golden book') with its alternately purple-dyed pages.

The Codex Aureus of Canterbury

Britain, indeed, saw a marked inculturation that showed great ingenuity in the adaptation of pagan customs to Christian belief. Triangular plaques typical of pagan votive offerings would be inscribed with Christian emblems, as found among the Water Newton treasure. Among the priceless objects of this hoard, I saw what are believed to be the oldest liturgical silver vessels in the Christian world. And in the royal tomb at Prittlewell, discovered only in 2003, gold crosses had been placed over the dead man's eyes, where pagans would have put coins. As far as I could see, the exhibition did not mention the Green Man motif, which is so typical of Christian inculturation in pagan Britain. But it did have an intriguing gold medallion in Animal Style II, from 7th century France, showing the Cross and the Alpha/Omega signs embedded in an obviously pagan aesthetic.

The gold medallion of Limons

After the collapse of Rome, a most remarkable thing happened. The faith that had spread to the edges of civilised Europe now began to trickle back, through the missions of zealous Irish and British monks. The Northumbrian St. Willibrord became the 'apostle to the Frisians' (i.e. the Netherlands) and founded Echternach Abbey (Luxembourg) in the 8th century. This roaming archbishop got much use out of his exquisitely carved portable altar, which was on display. A similar relic, the 'Cadmug Gospel' in Irish minuscule lettering, belonged to St Boniface on his missions to the German peoples. St Columbanus the Younger took twelve companions from Ireland and converted the Frankish nobility, founding many monasteries along the way, including Bobbio as far south as Italy. St Ansgar, born in northern France, became the 'apostle to the North' after being sent by the Emperor Louis the Pious to evangelise Scandinavia; he baptised the Danish king Harald Klak in 826, two centuries before the saint-king, Olaf Haraldsson, would abandon his career as a Viking raider and enlist English clergy to bring Christianity to the remote reaches of Norway.

King Gunnar in the snake-pit

Throughout this period, Christianity learned to adopt the semiotic references of the pagan world. In Scandinavia, the old runes were very common in Christian art. But it was also the symbolic content that penetrated the culture. These pagan appropriations are not entirely coherent and harmonious. To take one example, a rectangular baptismal font (Sweden, c.1100 AD) portrays the semi-mythical king Gunnar in the snake pit as a sort of holy protomartyr; but in Norway, Sigurd the Dragon-slayer is shown on a 12th-century church portal as a prefiguration of Christ. Unfortunately, this juxtaposition is a little awkward if the Nibelungenlied is anything to go by, in which Gunnar (Gunther) conspires in Sigurd's (Siegfried's) murder!

The evangelisation of Europe was not always an easy or happy process. Part 2 of Credo, entitled In Hoc Signo, besides describing the Eastern missions of Saints Cyril and Methodius and showcasing the riches of Byzantium, also focused on the more political aspects of Christianisation. Emperor Charlemagne forced the Saxons to the font, offering them 'baptism or death'. The missions to Scandinavia coincided with the formation of its kingdoms and the Church's fortunes often oscillated according to the whims of kings. Prophetic voices abounded, of course, and I was impressed with Alcuin of York's bold objection to Charlemagne that Christians should be 'preachers, not plunderers'.

Europe did adopt the Faith, and the Faith owes much to its European cradle. But the story does not end there. Sadly, more plundering was to follow with the colonisations of the New World; and again there were protests from prophetic preachers, such as Bartolomeo de las Casas OP. In the present day, the Church has reached the ends of the earth and continues to incorporate and enrich the cultures of the nations. The kingdom of God may not be of this world, but the gospel of Christ is certainly for this world. In our confused and conflict-ridden situations, it may be hard to believe in the kingship of Christ. But the faith of the missionaries that was made so tangible by this Credo exhibition is still alive and flourishing, and it calls us to be new bearers of light to the dark and barbarous corners of the world – including Oxford.

Christ the King

Councils of Faith: Vatican II (1962-65)

The 21st and most recent Ecumenical Council of the Church held its formal sessions in St Peter’s Basilica in the Vatican State, hence its name. It was called by John XXIII in 1959, and after preparatory work he opened it in October 1962. He died in 1963 and so the council was suspended. However, his successor Paul VI (d. 1978) immediately announced its continuation and he oversaw the rest of the council and its initial implementation.

Although some political regimes hostile to the Church, notably communist ones, prevented bishops from attending, Vatican II was by far the best attended Church Council in history. It was also truly global, with representatives of European dioceses making up a minority for the first time. The number of bishops varied between 2,100 to around 2,500: 33% from Europe; 35% from North and South America; 10% from Africa; 10% from Asia. In addition there were official theological experts (periti) and various observers, including laity and religious – women among them – and various ecumenical figures. Far from blocking or shunning the Council, the world and the media took a huge interest in the Council.

The bishops met in formal sessions between September and December (with slight variations) of the years 1962-65. While bishops went back to their diocesan and other tasks between these sessions, further consultation and drafting work was done by various commissions established by the Council in the intervening months. The Council was very productive: it produced 16 documents which it classified into 4 constitutions, 9 decrees and 3 declarations. The volume of this material makes up 25% of the total material produced and still extant from all the ecumenical councils put together, twice as much as any other council, again making it a very significant Church event indeed. Although it is sometimes called a pastoral council, and although it did not issue formal or precise anathemas (condemnations), it is a substantial teaching council, requiring serious attention and assent from the faithful.

The four constitutions provide a framework for understanding the whole council. The Constitution on Divine Revelation, Dei Verbum, addressed issues raised by the enlightenment claims that reason is the highest or even sole arbiter in matters of truth. It affirmed the supernatural nature revelation and of faith, centred on a Trinitarian understanding of Jesus Christ, whom each human is called to know and love intimately. It taught an understanding of Revelation that is mindful of how it is conditioned by history.  God came to us in historical events: his saving power is made present to us in the liturgy.  The Constitution on the Liturgy, Sacromentum Concilium, called for renewal to bring out clearly the centrality of the life and especially the Paschal Mystery of Christ, and to enable everyone to participate in it in a full, conscious, and active way. The Dogmatic Constitution of the Church, Lumen Gentium, stressed that the Church is the Body of Christ, and it set out a comprehensive understanding of the Church, to balance the unfinished work of Vatican I which was limited to the role of the papacy. In particular it developed an understanding of the role and work of the bishops, but stressed the importance of all the members of the Church. The Pastoral Constitution on the Church, Gaudium et Spes, laid out principles for the engagement of the Church with the world, and how it undertakes its mission of offering Christ's salvation to humanity, a salvation that touches all areas of human existence, personal, social, economic and political. The other documents fill out and apply these principal teachings, providing more detail on how the Church is to renew itself and undertake its mission in the modern situation.

Vatican II can usefully be seen as a response to the modern condition of humanity, linked to the 18th century enlightenment. As such it continued the work of the abruptly ended Vatican I, able to draw on theological advances made in the interim period and to the further developments in the world. The world had since fought two world wars, was faced with the threat of a nuclear holocaust, was becoming an increasingly global society, less focused on Europe, and one aware of the power in technology and of the media. The Council sought to engage with the world and to see God at work outside the visible boundaries of the Church, but this engagement was not to be undertaken uncritically and far less as surrender to the world. Rather the aim was to offer eternal salvation and enable the fruits of this to be seen in the temporal sphere as well. As such, throughout its documents Vatican II issued two universal calls to all the members of the Church: a call to holiness and a call to evangelise in diverse ways.

How to implement Vatican II has been the challenge of the fifty- year period since then, a period in which the world has known almost unprecedented change on a number of fronts. In some ways Vatican II gave the Church help to respond to these changes. All the popes since the council have taken a leading role in affirming and implementing the Council. Rome has issued many renewed liturgical rites, has promulgated a new Code of Canon Law (1983) and a new Universal Catechism (1992). All of these have had huge and ongoing influence on the local churches throughout the world. Papal teaching has frequently drawn on the Conciliar texts, affirming them, interpreting them and also developing and applying them. There have been frequent general assemblies of Bishops, where representative bishops from across the world meet every few years to discuss matters of importance with the Pope. Many ecumenical dialogues have been undertaken. There has been much local work, some more fruitful than others. New forms of religious life and lay associations are emerging, alongside the renewal of long established forms.

Implementing a council has never been easy, as this Godzdogz series has indicated, and the challenges facing the Church in a rapidly changing world are huge. But Vatican II provided very rich resources, still not fully tapped, both to renew those within the Church and to enable to Church to more effectively bring salvation to the rest of humanity. Its utterances, made in communion with Christ, and in continuity with the tradition of the Church, are insightful and challenging, and seen by many as prophetic. It could still prove to be one of the most important and fruitful councils in history, but that in part depends on how each of us responds to its call to holiness and evangelisation.

Councils of Faith: Vatican I (1869-1870)

Unlike Trent and Vatican II, those two great councils that have radically shaped the Catholicism of the modern world, the First Vatican Council might appear insignificant and bizarre to us. This short council, lasting only eleven months, was held in the Vatican Basilica amidst great anxiety in Rome, and indeed the unease lay heavy across the Catholic world. Vatican I is now remembered chiefly for defining Papal Infallibility, but the real picture is more interesting than that.

Three centuries after Trent, the Catholic faith seemed embattled on all fronts: the onslaught of rationalism, materialism and liberalism – whether in the philosophical, scientific, or political spheres – seemed to threaten the very existence of the Church, let alone its relevance to modern nation states. Indeed, by the late 1860s Italian unification left only Rome under the pope’s control, shielded for now by French troops. Pope Pius IX, or ‘Pio Nono’, as he was affectionately known, was doggedly attached to the ‘temporal power’, which was anachronistic even for the 19th century.

Many bishops, priests and laity lamented the Pope’s political predicament – especially those with ‘Ultramontane’ sympathies – but the wider concerns were actually doctrinal and disciplinary. The Church needed to restore the purity of the faith, the dignity of worship, morality and discipline, the education of priests, ecclesial obedience, care for the youth, and to work towards international peace, and above all, Christian unity. The Syllabus of Errors (1864) had denounced many aspects of ‘modernity’ that threatened the faith, such as the closure of church schools, but this collage of condemnations was ill-received and caused ‘Liberal Catholics’ to despair of any reconciliation between the Church and modern societies. The Syllabus was not wrong as such, as the Liberal bishop Dupanloup was at pains to prove, but it was imprudent, impolitic, even downright incompetent to have issued it in such a way and amidst such controversy.

One might even say, ‘inopportune’. That was the word dominating the Infallibility debate. Among the bishops and theologians, many agreed with Papal Infallibility but felt the time was ‘inopportune’, for pragmatic and political reasons, to define it dogmatically. Only a tiny minority actively denied that the Pope was infallible. Since the Holy Spirit had been given by Christ to preserve his Church from error in matters essential to salvation (cf. John chs. 14-16, esp. 16:13), and this Church had been built on the faith of Peter ‘the Rock’ (cf Matthew 16:18), how could we not trust the Pope to teach truthfully? Indeed, it is a remarkable fact that no pope speaking ex cathedra on faith or morals has ever been shown to be in error.

Against these two groupings, the Infallibilist majority was actively campaigning for a dogmatic definition, especially the Jesuits. Some Infallibilists took a strong line (that all papal utterances are infallible), but the more sensible ones wanted a limited definition that would strengthen papal authority at a time of great crisis and bring a satisfactory resolution to centuries of theological development on this topic. The matter was especially pressing after the dogmatic definition of the Immaculate Conception in 1854 seemed to imply papal infallibility. But infallibility should not be confused with ‘inspiration’ or ‘inerrancy’. As Pio Nono himself joked, ‘I’m not infallible in choosing my snuff!’

After a decisive vote on 18 July 1870 (433 for; only 2 against, since some 60 objecting bishops had already left Rome), Pope Pius read out the definition as a thunderstorm raged overhead: ‘the Roman pontiff when he speaks ex cathedra’ to define ‘a doctrine regarding faith or morals to be held by the universal Church [...] is possessed of that infallibility with which the Divine Redeemer willed that his Church should be endowed’ (see Denziger §1839).

Note that this limits the definition of infallibility to very specific circumstances; so it was a great blow to the rigorist Ultramontane party. Though the truth of the decree did not depend on their consent, it is significant that all the inopportunist bishops, even the most implacable (such as Dupanloup, Hefele, and Strossmayer), rallied round the definition in due course. As Ronald Knox later pointed out, since Catholics believe in the infallibility of the Church, especially through General Councils, and since a General Council defined Papal Infallibility, a Catholic must hold that definition to be infallible!

Only a few priests and laity broke communion as ‘Old Catholics’. Tensions increased with the secular powers (see Newman’s Letter to the Duke of Norfolk, intending to allay Gladstone’s fears), and the Council was interrupted when the Franco-Prussian war led to the retreat of the French garrison from Rome. The Italian forces moved in and the Council had to be suspended indefinitely, only to be closed formally in 1960.

What are we to make of this? The unfinished business was partly completed, over the next fifty years, by the encyclicals of Pope Leo XIII and the reforms of Pope Pius X. But not till Vatican II, another fifty years later, did the Church’s relationship to the modern world find much-needed clarification. We must not conclude, however, that Vatican I was a kind of stumbling block that Vatican II finally overcame. On the contrary, Vatican II is the completion of Vatican I (and is itself still being implemented today). Vatican I paved the way for modern Catholicism by its focus on the importance of true doctrine.

That is why the other side of Vatican I, the dogmatic constitution on the Catholic faith, Dei Filius, which was passed unanimously, must not be overlooked. This important document affirmed that natural human reason could yield knowledge of God; that faith is not blind; that Holy Scripture must be interpreted in line with Holy Mother Church; and that the Church’s global expansion, Catholic unity, and stable faith, all proved the divine origin of her mission.

This faith is what sustains the Church. In the long run, the loss of the Papal States brought a decisive benefit. The balance in the Church between the ‘prophetic’ and ‘political’ dimensions was restored after the polarising years of Pio Nono. From now on, the Catholic Church would be a moral ‘great power’. The external politics and diplomacy continue, of course, but her true mission is the propagation of the truth, for the evangelisation of hearts and minds throughout the world.

The Council of Trent

Back in June, Br Gustave noted that just a matter of months after the end of Lateran V, Martin Luther posted his ninety-five theses onto the door of Castle Church in Wittenburg (following the University customs): although largely a symbolic act, the ideas of Luther, Calvin and Zwingli unleashed a theological maelstrom in the Western Church, dividing Christian against Christian and spreading confusion and mutual misapprehension. The need for the Church to articulate a strong and unified theological response to the challenges of Reformation theology led to the convening of the Council of Trent, less than half a century after the conclusion of Lateran V.

Doctrinally, the Council of Trent (which ran from December 1545 to December 1563, under the authority of three sovereign pontiffs), is the most extensive of all ecumenical councils, offering a theological synthesis of normative significance for all subsequent Catholic theology. Responding to the challenges of the sixteenth-century reformers, it treated the canon of scripture, the relation of grace and nature, and the appropriate understanding of original sin and its effects, as well as clearly defining the sacraments (using the tools of medieval scholasticism to provide necessary clarity). In order to respond effectively to the threat of the Reformation, the Council was concerned to secure the widest possible agreement amongst Catholic theologians, although it did not desist entirely from settling intramural debates where necessary.

Although the teachings of Franciscan John Duns Scotus were very widely consulted by the Fathers, Trent articulated an essentially Thomistic theology, particularly in its treatment of the sacraments. Indeed, it is often claimed that the Summa Theologiae of the Angelic Doctor was placed on the altar at Trent, alongside the Holy Bible (although given the presence of so many theologians from diverse traditions, this may have been unduly provocative and may reflect a later interpolation into the events of the council): either way, it is clear that Trent is an important turning point in the reception of Aquinas’s thought.

Luther had been alarmed by the moral failings of the Church, and this was a theme that the Council Fathers could not avoid addressing in some detail (issuing decrees tightening clerical discipline and requiring bishops to take a greater interest in the moral character of the clergy). The Council moved to standardised the liturgy of the Church, promulgating a revised breviary for the piety of the clergy and a revised version of the Missal in 1570. The publication of a ‘Roman Catechism’ in 1566 highlights the council’s commitment to the dissemination of sound doctrine. As a result of the Tridentine movement, priestly formation moved towards the present day seminary system, strengthening the doctrinal formation of the clergy and requiring their residence in centres that were required to stress personal discipline, prayer and moral rectitude.

Councils of Faith: The Fifth Lateran Council

The Fifth Lateran Council (1512-1517) happened in the sixteenth century before another important council, Trent. However, there is a considerable difference between the two councils as the second came to answer to an important matter: Protestantism. However, Lateran V also addressed issues that were very sensitive in the Church.

Before Lateran V, there had been the Great Schism or the Western Schism (1378-1417) – to avoid confusion with the East-West Schism in 1054. The Western Schism (also 'Papal Schism') consisted in a split that occurred in the Catholic Church when two popes, one in Avignon and another in Rome, claimed both to be the successors of Saint Peter. The Council of Constance (1414-1417) put an end to the disagreement but the division among Christian princes and among church leaders had left lasting marks. Another event had happened: a strong and divisive argument had erupted in the Church about the role of the Pope compared to that of the General Council that used to choose him. Some believed that the Council that chooses a pope is greater than him. It was called Conciliarism. Others however maintained the view that the Pope came first and his authority was greater than that of the General Council. This gives one a hint about the climate in the Church before Lateran V.

Pope Julius II

When Giuliano della Rovere became Pope Julius II he promised to his cardinals to convoke a general council. However, Pope Julius II, being pre-occupied by many other matters, especially wars, did honour his promise. The Emperor Maximilian and the king of France Louis XII convoked a council at Pisa in 1511. A small number of cardinals attended with a few bishops. The Conciliabulum of Pisa, as it is know, decided to suspend Pope Julius II, as they believed in Conciliarism. The same year, Pope Julius convoked a council and many cardinals and bishops joined him in condemning the conclusions of the Conciliabulum of Pisa. Even the Roman Emperor and the French king ended up rejecting the conclusions of the council they had convoked. The cardinals and bishops who met at Pisa were condemned as heretics and schismatics. When Pope Julius II died in 1513, Pope Leo X succeeded him and the council, which had been interrupted, resumed.

Lateran V condemned many other things including a 1438 document called Pragmatic Sanction of Bourges which limited the powers of the pope, especially when it came to the nomination of bishops and other religious leaders. However, it did not only condemn aspects that could have been seen as threats to the papacy; it also addressed other issues that were calling for a reform. It addressed concubinage, simony, church property issues, blasphemy, etc. It mostly addressed cardinals and other church authorities’ behaviours. It also required that books were to be given permission by the local bishop before they were printed.

Pope Leo XII

The Fifth Lateran Council came in a time when people were calling for radical changes. It came after many church leaders had given up hope on Pope Julius II to convoke a council as he had promised. It all ended in condemnations that could have been avoided. It intensified a climate that would in the end result into a big and sad change in the Church: the Protestant Reformation. Indeed, by the time the year 1517 ended, the same year during which the Fifth Lateran Council had been concluded, Martin Luther had started a movement that would not only split the church, but also strengthen the divisions among Christian nations.

The Council of Constance, 1414-1418.

There have been a number of times when there have been two or more people claiming to be the valid pope. These times were difficult for the Church for obvious reasons, especially when it was not immediately clear who was the validly chosen pope. The most troubling of these periods resulted in what is called the Great Western Schism (1378-1417) and the Council of Constance resolved it.

The crucial background is as follows. For much of the 14th century, the papacy based itself, not in Rome which was somewhat turbulent at the time, but in Avignon in the south of France. This had its advantages but it was deemed important, not least for the stability of the Italian peninsula, for the papacy to return to Rome which happened in 1377 under Pope Gregory XI. The following year he died, and amidst a complicated situation in Rome Urban VI was elected. During the election process there were riots in Rome which may or may not have pressurised the electing cardinals. A few months later, some of the cardinals claimed they had been pressurised and met and elected Clement VII. It is clear that they were also dissatisfied with the policies and style of Urban VI. Lines hardened and created great tensions in the Church, splitting the cardinals and resulting in rival papal courts. The tensions extended to the alignment of the secular kingdoms of the day. Some lined up behind the one claimant and some behind the other. Hostilities happened and the divisions hardened. When each pope died, his supporters among the now divided cardinals elected successors and so on. Urban VI and his successors lived in Rome, while Clement VII and his successors resided in Avignon. That geography was not sufficient to determine the correctness of the situation and the application of canon law was very complex. The situation dragged on, undermining the authority of the Pope, and weakening the Church, and threatening a permanent split in the Western Church. Genuinely holy people, including among them people now canonised, were on both sides.

There was already much debate in this period about the relative importance of church councils and their relationship to the power and authority of the pope. The issues debated by theologians and canonists included to which did most power belong and how often and by whom should general or ecumenical councils be called. This came to be known as conciliarism. These debates acquired a very practical focus as the schism resulting from the double papacy persisted.

It was hoped that a general council might be able to find a solution. In 1409, some cardinals from both sides called a council at Pisa. This resulted in the election of a third pope, Alexander V, but he was not able to persuade the other two popes or their supporters to rally to him. The end result was 3 popes, each with their own group of cardinals and papal court.

It is the great achievement of the Council of Constance that it dealt with this complex situation. It met from November 1414 to April 1418 at the German city on the side of Lake Constance in territory of the Holy Roman Emperor Sigismund, seen as relatively neutral. It was very well attended: overall there were 29 cardinals, 33 archbishops, 150 bishops, 100 abbots, 100 provosts, 300 doctors mainly of theology but also of canon law and the most famous of whom was Jean Gerson, up to 5000 monks and friars, 18,000 ecclesiastics. Around 50,000- 100,000 people visited in all. The Pisan Pope John XXIII was present at first but then fled when he realised he would be deposed. The Roman Pope Gregory XII sent delegates to represent him. Benedict XIII never attended or recognised it, but cardinals from his camp were present. The Council held numerous sessions in that time - 45 in total - to resolve these matters and also address matters of heresy, notably associated with John Wyclif of England and the Czech Jan Hus, and to make some attempts at Church reform. The major actions by which the papacy was united were as follows. In May 1415 John XXIII was deposed as not having been validly elected. Gregory XII agreed to resign for the good of the Church but only after his two delegates formally convoked the council in his name. This gave it real standing and also improved the view of the line of Roman claimants. Attempts were made to persuade the Avignon Pope, Benedict XII, to resign but he refused.

For 2 years the council moved carefully. Benedict XII was eventually deposed by the Council in July, 1417. The Council banned the existing claimants from being re-elected. In the end it decided, in view of the extraordinary situation, to amend the existing electoral rules (determined by the Councils of Lateran III and Lyon II). It created a broader conclave to try and ensure consensus and also support afterwards for whoever was elected. As well as the cardinals, figures would represent the various powerful nations. The winning candidate would need a two-thirds majority of each group. With this agreed, within 3 days, the expanded conclave chose Martin V in November 1417. He was accepted, ruled until 1431 and reunited the Church, ending the schism. Once elected, he strongly asserted Papal authority in a private consistory in March 1418, shortly before the formal closing of the Council. Although other residences were offered, he finally chose to go back and reside in Rome.

This resolved the schism but where did it leave the issue of conciliarism? An early decree Haec Sancta Synodos claimed authority for a general council as coming directly from Christ and so it required the obedience of all including the popes. However, these early sessions, before Gregory XII formally called it, were not considered valid by the popes who emerged as validly accepted, and its decrees were not approved. In 1417, a month before the election of Martin V, Constance passed the decree Frequens. It stated that a general council should either always be in session or expected soon. It went on to mandate that a General Council meet 5 years after Constance, and one 7 years after that, and then every 10 years in perpetuity. Popes could shorten the gap but not lengthen it. Although Martin V strongly asserted his own authority upon his election and the Papal practice was only to accept conciliar decrees and decisions that it formally approved, nonetheless the Church and the papacy had to live with the ongoing concrete reality of what was variously seen as the right or demand to have regular General or Ecumenical Councils. This shaped the ongoing history of the Church in the 15th century as we shall see.

Councils of Faith: Vienne

Pope Francis’ decision to gather an advisory body of Cardinals from all over the world has prompted much discussion in recent months and reopened a debate over the authority of the Papacy relative to the college of Bishops. It is important to remember that ecclesiological questions of this kind cannot be asked in a vacuum. The juridical structure that the Church arrives at in any epoch is historically conditioned: in other words, how the Church is governed is to a certain extent structured by the kind or quality of freedom that secular rulers are prepared to give to the Church. 

The Council of Vienne (1311-12), the fifteenth Ecumenical Council, is a good example of the Church wrestling with the problem of secular interference and political pressure. King Philip IV of France was in urgent need of cash to continue his war with England and so in 1307 accused the Knights Templar of heresy. The Templars had been founded after the first crusade in 1096 to ensure the safety of European pilgrims traveling to Jerusalem and had quickly built up significant holdings of property and land. Philip had already borrowed heavily from the order, and the charge of heresy was enough to avoid repaying that debt. It also enabled him to confiscate the Templars' land in France. Yet this was still not enough. 

Philip insisted that Pope Clement V call an ecumenical council to totally suppress the Templars, and also to posthumously try Pope Boniface VIII, Philip's great enemy, for heresy. The Papacy at this time was entering into what is known as the Avignon captivity. Boniface VIII had been kidnapped by Philip and died not long after. His successor, Benedict XI, was allegedly poisoned by one of Philip’s agents and died one year later. It is unsurprising, then, that Pope Clement felt obliged to cooperate with the King’s demands. The Council was to be at Vienne, near Lyon, at this time an independent state and so theoretically neutral. Philip ordered 230 western bishops to attend, though in the end only 120 were present. 

The Council began on the 16th October 1311 with the declared objectives of hearing the case of the Templars, discussing the situation in the Holy Land, and addressing certain wider questions concerning Church reform including an intra-Franciscan dispute over the meaning of poverty. The Council Fathers were reluctant to condemn the Templars too easily without sure proof and so after lengthy discussion left the matter unresolved and focused on considering the possibility of calling another crusade. 

Meanwhile a frustrated King Philip held a general assembly of his Kingdom in nearby Lyon and began to menace Pope Clement. It seems that Clement capitulated and agreed to suppress the Templars. In return, Philip pledged not to bring a public action against Boniface VIII. On the 20th March 1312 Philip made for Vienne and within two weeks the Templar’s property and lands had been reallocated. During the same period, the Council absolved Philip from all crimes against Boniface VIII, and called for another crusade. At the third and final session, held on May 6th, Philip volunteered to ‘take up the cross’ as leader of this crusade which would begin within six years. As was customary, a church tithe was levied throughout Christendom for this preparation period and handed over to Philip to fund his mission: the Crusade never took place. Instead, Philip used the money to attack Christians in Flanders.

Councils of Faith - Lyon I and II

Having completed our journey through Lent and Eastertide, we return now to the subject we’ve been looking at during this Year of Faith, namely the Ecumenical Councils which have shaped and defined our understanding of the Faith. In the two councils we turn to now, however, we see that doctrinal concerns are not the only reason for calling an ecumenical council. As with some of the other mediaeval councils we have already looked at, the First Council of Lyon was called to deal with threats to the Church’s liberty, which took the form, in 1244, of the Holy Roman Emperor Frederick II besieging Rome. The Council deposed and excommunicated the Emperor for his attacks on the Church, though the Pope found himself unable to enforce the decree – a reminder that the power and influence of the Church in the Middle Ages can sometimes be exaggerated.

Lyon II, on the other hand, did have doctrinal concerns – not those which threatened to split the Church, but those which already had: Lyon II was the first attempt to overcome the schism between East and West which (while scholars will argue about the exact course of events) we usually date to 1054. The doctrinal component of the split (and of the moves to reconcile it) should not be exaggerated, though. After all the polemic and mutual mistrust had been put aside, the only doctrinal question which the Council had to address in detail was that of the procession of the Holy Spirit: in the Latin usage which, we now know, derived from the response of the Spanish Church to denials of the equality of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, the Creed professed that the Holy Spirit proceeds from the Father and the Son (Filioque in Latin), while the Greek text adopted at the Council of Constantinople spoke only of his procession from the Father. At Lyon, the Greeks present accepted the admissibility of the Latin usage, but we should also note that the Latin position was clarified, making it clear that we do not mean to suggest that the Holy Spirit has two sources of his being (‘non tanquam ex duobus principiis’), but rather to assert that the Holy Spirit is as much ‘the Spirit of the Son’ (cf. Gal 4: 6) as ‘the Spirit of the Father’ (cf. Mt 10: 20).

That the union achieved at Lyon did not last (the laity did not accept their bishops’ actions – which they perceived as resulting from political pressure – and a new emperor saw the pro-union bishops deposed) shows us the difficulty of the task of pursuing the unity of Christians, and the importance of it being a work of the whole Church, and not simply a clique of those who “do ecumenism”. At the same time, the decision of Lyon II (which demanded far less of the Greeks than many Latin polemical writers of the time, on questions ranging from clerical celibacy to the kind of bread used for the Eucharist) reminds us not to let secondary and cultural differences get in the way of the pursuit of that unity for which Our Lord prayed.

Picture of Lyon Cathedral (where both Councils were held) by Welleschik, used under Creative Commons license.

Does God Exist?

This Tuesday saw the first of six talks in a series entitled "God Matters? Questioning God, Questioning Faith" being held at Blackfriars, Oxford as part of the Year of Faith, and aimed at people who have questions about religious belief, as well as Christians looking for ways to explain their faith to non-Christian friends and colleagues.

The opening talk, given by Fr Peter Hunter, OP, focused on the question of the existence of God:

The series will continue for the next five weeks on Tuesdays at 8pm: more details can be found on the series' own website.

Councils of Faith: Lateran IV (1215)

The Fourth Lateran Council (November 1215) represents a high-point in ecclesiastical governance in the Middle Ages. It is also of special interest to us here as it formed the backdrop to the establishment of the Order of Preachers in 1216. 

Commonly referred to in canon law as the 'General Council of Lateran', this great convocation was presided over by Pope Innocent III, who, some, argue was the most powerful pope in history. Innocent ensured that the papal privileges and ecclesiastical liberties claimed by the first three Lateran Councils were now consolidated and extended. The prestige of the pope, combined with a long period of convocation (April 1213 to November 1215), meant that Lateran IV was the best attended of all the medieval councils and could strongly claim to be 'ecumenical'. There were present: 71 patriarchs and metropolitans, including those of Constantinople and Jerusalem; 412 bishops; some 900 abbots and priors; delegates from the patriarchs of Antioch and Alexandria; and envoys from the Holy Roman Emperor and several other Christian states. Seventy decrees or canons were drawn up in advance and were easily approved.

Europe was changing fast in the early thirteenth century. The growth of towns was matched by a burgeoning mercantile class and the spread of literacy. Together with the proliferation of new religious orders through the 12th century, this gave the impetus to a new rationalisation of legal codes, especially the canon law Decretals compiled by Gratian. While official structures were waxing to meet these new challenges, a revival of popular piety was bringing many ordinary people back to a more internalised Christianity. This aimed at rediscovering the Scriptural roots of the faith, and was often expressed through a commitment to evangelical poverty. Lay movements, such as the beguines, flourished. But many turned to heretical doctrines and openly challenged Church authority. The Waldensians, for instance, repudiated the sacraments, oaths, the cult of the saints, and Purgatory.

It is unsurprising, then, to find concern for true Christian teaching and practice at the heart of Lateran IV's decrees. Canon 1 reiterated the the creeds, including an important reference to Transubstantiation, at a time when many Eucharistic miracles were being reported. Other canons insisted that relics had to be verified before acceptance, by documentary evidence and (if necessary) trial by fire or water. To neutralise the heretics' greatest critiques, clerical discipline was tightened: Lateran IV forbade the clergy dishonest pursuits, attendance at frivolous entertainments, games of chance, and visits to taverns. This last exclusion did not apply to 'necessary' visits, namely while travelling – which perhaps explains why the early Dominicans were keen to be itinerant preachers! The clergy were also banned from meting out or participating in death penalties; which is why the capital sentences of Inquisitions were always carried out by secular authorities, not the Church. However, ecclesiastics themselves were only to be tried by Church courts, even for criminal actions; and this remained the case right up to the French Revolution.

Sacramental practice was newly enjoined upon all the faithful, especially Communion at Easter and Confession to one's parish priest at least once a year. This merely confirmed existing legislation and custom, but Lateran IV had such clout and was so widely enacted that this particular canon (21) has historically been seen as a significant step. 

Canons 4-5 exhorted the Greek Orthodox to unite with Rome, and reiterated papal primacy, while Canon 1 dogmatically defined the Filioque. Interestingly, Rome now acknowledged Constantinople as the second see of Christendom, ahead of Alexandria, Antioch and Jerusalem. This is largely explained by the Fourth Crusade and its disastrous sack of Constantinople in 1204, which put the eastern capital under Latin rule. Under these unhappy circumstances, we should be wary of claiming too strong an ecumenical success for Lateran IV.

Finally, there are two canons of special significance for Dominicans. Canon 13 forbade the establishment of new religious orders with new rules, forcing St Dominic to adopt his familiar Rule of St Augustine as the foundation of Dominican life. But it is Canon 10 that stands out with its call for bishops to appoint preachers to support them in their ministry of the Word. Where bishops suffer from overwork, illness, external hostility, or ignorance(!), they are to

provide suitable men, powerful in work and word, to exercise with fruitful result the office of preaching; who...diligently visiting the people committed to them, may instruct them by word and example.

These men are to be the bishops' coadjutors and assistants, not only in the office of preaching but also in hearing confessions, imposing penances, and in other matters that pertain to the salvation of souls.

So, when the Dominican Order was established by Pope Honorius III just a year later, its Primitive Constitutions emphasised the fact that it was 'known from the beginning to have been instituted especially for preaching and the salvation of souls.' In 1215, the great days of the mendicant friars were just beginning, but here was a timeless call for new workers in the Lord's vineyard. Lateran IV set the tone for those first generations of Friars Preachers, and even now, centuries later, the call to continue the apostolic preaching can still be heard.

Ecumenical Councils: Lateran I - III

Our series on the Ecumenical councils of the Church here on Godzdogz has so far been dominated by the controversies in the Greek speaking East. The first three Lateran councils, convoked in a 60 year period between 1123 and 1179, mark a shift in focus towards the west. In these councils we see the Church wrestling in a very practical way with the question of authority. In the wake of the Western Roman Empire’s fall, the Papacy had stepped into a power vacuum at the heart of western European society. Yet as the centuries passed and European culture saw a political renewal the Church found it increasingly necessary to resist secular attempts to curtail its autonomy. Lateran I – III, then, can be seen as part of a broader project led by a number of reforming Popes in the eleventh and twelfth century to assert the independence of the Church from the crown and tighten clerical discipline. 

The catalyst to Lateran I (1123) was the Concordat of Worms, negotiated by Pope Calixtus II and Emperor Henry V in September 1122. This marked the end of the first round of a protracted power struggle between the Popes the Holy Roman Emperors. The Emperors had for some time claimed the divine right to appoint Church officials including bishops and even the Pope. At Worms it was agreed that whilst the King had the right to invest bishops with secular authority in the territories that they governed, they had no right to give sacred authority. Thus the Pope emerged as a figure that was beyond the control of the Holy Roman Emperor, and by confirming the primacy of papal authority and the new canon law governing the election of the pope, the concept of the ‘divine right of Kings’ was seriously undermined. Interestingly, for this reason many see in the Concordat of Worms the seeds of the Treaty of Westphalia (1648) which would confirm the concept of nation based sovereignty which still shapes our political discourse to this day. 

At Lateran I, convoked and presided over by Pope Callixtus II in person, the Concordat was read and ratified as part of a larger reform package that was very much in the tradition of Gregory VII: the importance of clerical celibacy was once again emphasized, simony was condemned, and the autonomy of the Church from secular leaders was demanded. These themes recur at Lateran II and III, councils that also were called to deal with political disputes within the Church. 

In 1130 Pope Honorius died and two rival Popes were elected in his place: Pope Innocent II and the antipope Anacletus II. The problem was eventually solved when, in 1138, Anacletus died. Pope Innocent II, now the sole claimant of the See of Rome, nevertheless decided to call the second Lateran Council (1139) to deal with the fallout from this schism. This process was repeated in 1179 when Lateran III was called to deal with yet another schism. This time it was the death of Pope Hadrian IV in 1159 that once again prompted two rival Popes to be elected elected: Alexander III and Victor IV. Victor had fewer Cardinals in his favour, but crucially had the support of the Emperor Frederick. Frederick wished to bring Italy more firmly under his control and so declared war on the Italian states and the Church. Schism was the inevitable consequence. Eventually the Papacy and its allies defeated Frederick at the battle of Legnano in 1176. This obliged Frederick to acknowledge Alexander as the true Pope at the Peace of Venice in 1177. Alexander, in return, agreed to call an ecumenical council to deal with the consequences of the schism hence the convocation of Lateran III. 

It is easy to dismiss the struggles between Emperors and Popes of the middle ages as simply power games and politicking, but at heart a fundamental question is at stake: is the Church simply an aspect of government, an aspect of civil society? Or does it instead transcend society and point us to a higher purpose than the goods of this life? The Church’s institutions can be used to preach the gospel and build up the Kingdom, or they can be used for less noble ends. Lateran I – III represents a struggle to resist those who would distort the Church’s mission, a threat that came from both outside and inside the Church.

Ecumenical Councils: Constantinople IV, 869-70.

This council was centred around whether Photius ought, or ought not, to be Patriarch of Constantinople.  It involved clear political interactions and, what is more, the political situation was complex, and changed significantly over short periods of time. An interaction with actual ‘secular’ politics and civic life is a feature of many of the ecumenical councils. An awareness of political factors is probably common to them all. After all, the Church exists in and interacts with the world. In common with other councils, it passed canons that have proved important over time, and often of more significance and use in theology, than the central business for which such councils were principally called.

The events linked to this council fell within a longer period of tension and suspicion between the Latin Western Church and Greek Eastern Church. The affair began when Nicholas I was pope (858-867). In Constantinople Michael III was emperor: he was born in 840 and had reigned from 842. In 858 Ignatius (b. 797) became Patriarch of Constantinople. He refused Michael Holy Communion on grounds of incest. Michael retaliated by deposing him and selecting a brilliant and devout layman, Photius (b. 810), to be patriarch. He went through the requisite set of ordinations and was consecrated patriarch in 5 days was but these actions did not adhere to the normal canonical procedure of the day. Both Ignatius and Michael appealed to the Pope. After conducting an investigation, Pope Nicholas accepted Ignatius as the still valid patriarch and he deposed and excommunicated Photius. However, de facto, Photius continued to have power as patriarch in Constantinople.

The situation worsened, and letters were sent by both camps denouncing the other. Then in 867 Photius called and presided at a council that declared Pope Nicholas excommunicate and deposed him. Nicholas died before hearing the results, the new pope being Hadrian II, (867-72). But events in Constantinople then also took a dramatic turn.

Emperor Michael had a co-emperor, Basil I, from 1866 who in 1867 then murdered Michael and so gained complete control as Emperor. He acted quickly to depose Photius and to reinstate Ignatius as patriarch. Basil asked Pope Hadrian to join him in a new council to tidy things up. This was held in Constantinople in 869-70 (and is the council the West later recognised as an ecumenical council). It was held from October 5th to February 28th 870, and met in 10 sessions, and by its last session it included 102 bishops, 3 papal legates and 4 patriarchs, though it began with far fewer attendees. Its main purpose was to condemn Photius for his acts in 867 and to depose him. It also took steps against his decisions, appointments and actions as patriarch. It issued 27 canons (in the Latin records). It restored the honour of Pope Nicholas I and recognised his actions. In general it conveyed a high view of the papacy, but also recognised Constantinople as the second see of the Church, after Rome. In strong terms it criticised imperial interference in the appointment and consecration of bishops and other Episcopal matters, as in the elevation and rapid set of ordinations of Photius. It also reaffirmed the use of icons as stated in Nicea II.

Patriarch Ignatius died in 877 and Photius became patriarch, this time in a situation and way that the Pope could also now accept as valid. A council of the East was held in 879-80, again in Constantinople, to consolidate the position of Photius. He confessed his errors of 867 in excommunicating the pope. The papal legates took the documents back to Rome. It appears that Pope John VIII (872-882) then recognised Photius, seemingly revoking the council of 869-70 in regard to decisions specifically about Photius, but not in regard to its more general terms or canons. In a way, within 10 years the specific issue that the council of 869-70 addressed had been resolved. Photius continued as patriarch until 886, finally dying in 893.

Neither the council of 869-70 or that of 879-80 were regarded as ‘ecumenical’ at or soon after the time. In the late 11th century, at a time when the papacy was seeking to assert its rights over Episcopal appointments and investiture in the West, in opposition to claims by (Holy Roman) emperors and kings. To support these claims, it recognised the council of Constantinople of 869-70 as Ecumenical, ie as Constantinople IV, since the canonists and, more importantly, then the pope judged its canons against political interference in Episcopal appointments to be of universal importance for the Church. The core issue that led to its recognition, long after its occurrence, as ecumenical, was the autonomy and the independence of the Church, and, with it, a process of integrity in the appointment of bishops and in the motivation of candidates. These principles have been threatened a number of times across church history, and have repeatedly been addressed by ecumenical, and other, councils.

The council of 869-70 was not accorded ecumenical status to slur the memory of Photius. But the Eastern Churches have tended to see it that way. They regard the council of 879-80 as the more important one, and it was the one that allowed matters to settle down at the time. The overall impact of Photius through his whole life and writings made him one of the most influential figures in the history of the Byzantine Empire. Interestingly both he and Patriarch Ignatius became recognised as saints in the East. Only Ignatius is recorded in the Roman Martyrology.  Pope Nicholas I is known as St Nicholas the Great.

The Eastern (Greek) Churches do not accept the ecumenical nature of Constantinople IV (869-70) or of later councils recognised by Popes. In general they only accept as ‘ecumenical’ the 7 councils that were so recognised from Nicea I (325) to Nicea II (787). The Church, gathered around, and in unity with, Peter and his successors, has come to the view that in the final analysis, the pope has to decide what is, and is not, an ecumenical council, and which of its decisions are binding on the whole church and (depending on their nature) for how long. The events around Photius and Constantinople IV, the canons it produced, and reflection on all this, were part of the process that led to this understanding of how authority works within the Church, guided by the Holy Spirit. (The reception of such teachings and decisions by the wider Church, and their theological interpretation and application are also important.) The events around Constantinople IV also illustrate that the Holy Spirit works amidst political complexity and through human agents, whose conduct cover the gamut from weak to strong, foolish to wise, and sinful to saintly.

(The illustrations are, in descending order, images of Saints Nicholas, Ignatius and Photius.)