Augustinian Theology in the Later Middle Ages Volume 1: Concepts, Perspectives, and the Emergence of Augustinian Identity 9004405739, 9789004405738

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Augustinian Theology in the Later Middle Ages

Studies in the History of Christian Traditions Editor in Chief Robert J. Bast (Knoxville, Tennessee) Editorial Board Paul C.H. Lim (Nashville, Tennessee) Brad C. Pardue (Point Lookout, Missouri) Eric Leland Saak (Indianapolis, Indiana) Christine Shepardson (Knoxville, Tennessee) Brian Tierney (Ithaca, New York) John Van Engen (Notre Dame, Indiana) Founding Editor Heiko A. Oberman†

volume 196

The titles published in this series are listed at brill.com/​shct

Augustinian Theology in the Later Middle Ages Volume 1: Concepts, Perspectives, and the Emergence of Augustinian Identity

By

Eric Leland Saak

LEIDEN | BOSTON

Cover illustration: Giovanni di Paolo (ca. 1399–​1482). Saint Augustine, ca 1470–​1475. Oil on wood, 233 x 95 cm. Inv. mi513. Photo: René-​Gabriel Ojéda. Location: Musee du Petit Palais, Avignon, France. © rmn-​Grand Palais /​Art Resource, NY, art No 173405 The Library of Congress Cataloging-​in-​Publication Data is available online at https://​catalog.loc.gov

Typeface for the Latin, Greek, and Cyrillic scripts: “Brill.” See and download: brill.com/​brill-​typeface. issn 1573-​5 664 isbn 978-​9 0-​0 4-​4 0573-​8 (hardback) isbn 978-​9 0-​0 4-​5 0470-​7 (e-​book) Copyright 2022 by Koninklijke Brill nv, Leiden, The Netherlands. Koninklijke Brill nv incorporates the imprints Brill, Brill Nijhoff, Brill Hotei, Brill Schöningh, Brill Fink, Brill mentis, Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, Böhlau Verlag and V&R Unipress. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, translated, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior written permission from the publisher. Requests for re-​use and/​or translations must be addressed to Koninklijke Brill nv via brill.com or copyright.com. This book is printed on acid-​free paper and produced in a sustainable manner.

Contents Preface ix List of Tables and Figures xvii Abbreviations xviii Introduction Influence and Impact 1 1 Augustine and Augustinianism 3 2 Reception, Influence, and Impact 13 3 Causation and Periodization 16 4 Definitions 23 5 Scholasticism, Scholastic Literature, and the Augustinians 28 5.1 Lectures on the Sentences and the Augustinian Magistri 33 5.2 The Appropriation of Augustine 35 6 Scope of Study 43

part 1 Augustinian Traditions Introduction 49 1 The Reception of Augustine 53 1 In the Wake of Lombard 54 1.1 Helinand 57 1.2 Grosseteste 68 1.3 Considerations 81 2 Petrarch 83 2.1 John of Wales, ofm and Jacques Legrand, oesa 88 2.2 Petrarch’s Fictionalizing 94 2.3 Petrarch’s Augustine 104 2.3.1 De Vita Solitaria 106 2.3.2 De Otio Religioso 111 2.3.3 Secretum 119 2.4 The Disappropriation of Augustine 128 3 Boundaries of the Augustinian 138 2 The Religio Augustini 141 1 In Search of Origins 144 1.1 Augustine’s Monasticism 145

vi Contents 1.2  The oesa as Institution 146 1.3  The Formation of the oesa 155 1.4  Origins and Identity 156 2  The Daily Life of the Augustinians 160

part 2 Augustinian Political Theology  Introduction 195 3  Giles of Rome 200 1  Brother Giles 200 2  Giles’s Use of Augustine 201 2.1  De Regimine Principum 201 2.2  The Turning Point: De Renuntiatione Pape 203 2.3  De Ecclesiastica Potestate 204 3  Giles’s Political Theology 205 3.1  De Renuntiatione Pape 206 3.1.1  Potestas Ordinis 215 3.1.2  Potestas Jurisdictionis 222 3.1.3  Potestas Pape 225 3.2  De Ecclesiastica Potestate 232 3.2.1  Power 234 3.2.2  Status and Order 241 3.2.3  Jurisdiction 245 3.2.4  Salvation 249 4  Towards an Augustinian Ideology 253 4  James of Viterbo 257 1  Brother James 257 2  James’ Use of Augustine 258 3  De Regimine Christiano 260 4  Dating and Context 261 5  James in Paris 265 6  James and Giles 276 7  James’ Political Augustinianism 282 5  Augustinus of Ancona 284 1  Brother Augustinus 284

Contents



vii

2  Augustinus’ Use of Augustine 289 3  Unam Sanctam and the Emergence of Ecclesiology 292 4  Summa de Potestate Ecclesiastica 302 4.1  The Power of Jurisdiction 303 4.2  Christian Perfection 314 4.2.1  The Perfection of the Pope 318 4.2.2  The Religio Augustini 328 5  Ideology, Identity, and Impact 335

part 3 Augustinian Theology in the Studia  Introduction 345 6  Henry of Friemar 347 1  Brother Henry 347 2  Theological Production 351 2.1  Questio de Quolibet 358 2.2  De Decem Preceptis 370 2.3  De Quattuor Instinctibus 381 7  Hermann of Schildesche 387 1  Brother Hermann 387 2  Theological Production 388 2.1  Tractatus Contra Haereticos Negantes Immunitatem et Iurisdictionem Sanctae Ecclesiae 394 2.1.1  The Ecclesiology of Marsilius of Padua 400 2.1.2  Hermann’s Response 412 2.1.2.1  Causation 412 2.1.2.2  Authority 414 2.1.2.3  The Relationship between the Temporal and the Eternal 415 2.1.2.4  The Structures of Society 419 2.2  Tractatus de Conceptione Gloriosae Virginis Mariae 425 2.3  Speculum Manuale Sacerdotum 431 8  Jordan of Quedlinburg 443 1  Brother Jordan 443 2  Theological Production 445

viii Contents

2.1  Jordan’s Expositio Orationis Dominice 446 2.2  Jordan’s Opus Postillarum 452 2.3  Jordan’s Opus Dan 476

 Intermission 501  Bibliography 503  Index of Modern Authors 522  Index of Names, Places and Subjects 526

Preface In 1956, Damasus Trapp published a 129-​page article in the journal Augustiniana.1 That volume was a special issue celebrating the 700th Anniversary of the bull Licet Ecclesiae of Pope Alexander iv, establishing the Ordo Eremitarum Sancti Augustini. It remains perhaps of unparalleled importance for our understanding of the late medieval Augustinian tradition, and Trapp’s article is one of the primary reasons why it is so. Reading Trapp’s article for me was transformative. I still remember sitting deep in the stacks of Doheny Library at the University of Southern California reading it for the first time and having the feeling that somehow this was extremely important, while at the same time realizing that I did not understand a single word. The title of Trapp’s article was “Augustinian Theology in the Fourteenth Century: Notes on Editions, Marginalia, Opinions, and Booklore.” That article was designed as a sketch of a forthcoming work of Trapp’s, which regrettably never appeared.2 This present book takes Trapp’s article as its intertext. While I still cannot claim that I understand every word in that article, it is one to which I constantly return, with the same degree of awe, even if with more understanding. As the intertext for this present work, the subtitle “Notes” applies here as well. The study below should be read as simply “Notes on the Augustinian Theology of the Later Middle Ages.” It makes no claim to be comprehensive, and by intent hopes to serve as a point of departure, much as Trapp’s article did for me; I have been studying the late medieval Augustinian tradition ever since. Yet even if not comprehensive with the very conscious awareness of the extent to which that is so—​since far more work would need to be done on still unknown and only partially known late medieval Augustinians before we could even begin to be able to claim a comprehensive understanding—​it is more than a sketch in that it seeks to make a clear argument with sufficient evidence to make it stick. That overarching argument can be summarized in the following four theses: 1. Historically seen, Augustinian theology in the later Middle Ages cannot be reduced to late medieval anti-​Pelagianism; 2. Historically seen, Augustinian theology in the later Middle Ages was the theology of the Order of Hermits of St. Augustine (oesa);

1 Damasus Trapp, osa, “Augustinian Theology of the Fourteenth Century: Notes on Editions, Marginalia, Opinions, and Booklore,” Aug(L) 6 (1956), 146–​274. 2 Trapp, “Augustinian Theology,” 147.

x Preface 3.

Historically seen, Augustinian theology in the later Middle Ages cannot be reduced or limited to the theological production of the Augustinian Hermits’ university magistri; 4. Historically seen, Augustinian theology in the later Middle Ages was a major catalytic factor in the emergence of the Reformation and Early Modern Europe. These theses, implicitly and explicitly, have lain behind the majority of my published work, so consequently one could legitimately question why yet another book on the theme is needed. There are, I would claim, two primary reasons. First, acknowledging the work that has been done, and that has been done since my High Way to Heaven in 2002,3 the late medieval Augustinians and their impact on their world have still not entered general representations of the religion and theology of the later Middle Ages. As a case in point, Kevin Madigan’s Medieval Christianity. A New History, which appeared in 2015, treats Augustine in passing but does not even mention the Augustinian Hermits, even when treating the religio-​political conflicts of the early fourteenth century.4 Other popular works and textbooks ignore the Augustinians as well, while giving at least some importance to the Franciscans and Dominicans.5 While scholarly works only “trickle down” to popular works and textbooks very slowly, until the Augustinians and their importance for our understanding of the religious, cultural, intellectual, and political history of the later Middle Ages is recognized, it is essential to continue to emphasize that importance, to underscore it and to elaborate on it, in scholarly works.6 Second, while my 3 Eric Leland Saak, High Way to Heaven. The Augustinian Platform Between Reform and Reformation, 1292–​1524, smrt 89 (Leiden, 2002). 4 Kevin Madigan, Medieval Christianity. A New History (New Haven, 2015). There are, for example, numerous index entries for Dominicans and for Franciscans, but not a single one for Augustinian Hermits; Augustinian Canons have one entry. 5 See e.g. Dairmaid MacCulloch, Christianity. The First Three Thousand Years (New York, 2012), who mentions the Augustinian Hermits or Friars very rarely and only for the first time with respect to Luther, as a brief mention in passing; likewise, Rik van Nieuwenhove does not mention the Augustinian Hermits at all in his An Introduction to Medieval Theology (Cambridge, 2012), though he did mention Giles of Rome one in passing without giving his religious designation (p. 249). Acccording to van Nieuwenhove, “… the thirteenth century reflects the societal changes that were taking place. New religious orders were founded, and two were to leave an indelible mark on the intellectual history of the late-​medieval period: The Franciscans and the Dominicans.” Ibid., `69. 6 I can see the reply to this point, namely, then why don’t I write a popular book and get done with it. I am not excluding that possibility, but fear it is a genre that is not my forte; I set out to write my Luther and the Reformation of the Later Middle Ages (Cambridge, 2017) for a general audience as well as for a specialized one, but as one reviewer noted, it is not a book for everyone.

Preface

xi

published books and articles have built towards an over-​arching representation of the reception, influence, and impact of Augustine from the late thirteenth to the early sixteenth century, emphasizing the centrality thereto of the Augustinian Hermits, they have not in and of themselves presented my vision and interpretation of late medieval Augustinianism and its relationship to the origins of Early Modern Europe in its entirety. That is presented here for the first time. I should note, however, that that vision and interpretation is presented in this present work only in part. Originally, I had conceived of presenting my overall vision and interpretation in a single volume that would have been based on previously published articles and would have carried the account up through the Council of Trent. That soon become increasingly distasteful and I found myself doing increasingly more new research, so that what had started conceptually as a volume of collected articles of sorts grew into a new independent work, since, if for no other reason, I realized that indeed to present my vision and interpretation of late medieval Augustinianism a volume of collected articles, even reworked and expanded, did not actually suffice. It did not do what I had wanted to do. As the conception evolved and grew, it also grew in size so that were I to write a single work it would have ended up being longer, perhaps even substantially so, than my High Way to Heaven (of over 800 pages).7 Thus I decided to break it into two works. I may, if time and longevity allow, at some point in the future return to writing the “second” volume with the title, The Confessionalization of Augustine. Augustinianism in the Reformation, which would re-​examine the thesis of Eduard Stakemeier that the late medieval Augustinian tradition culminated not in Luther and the Reformation, but in Jerome Seripando and the Council of Trent. Time will only tell, and there are a number of projects I need to complete first beforehand. Yet here I do present my vision of Augustinianism in the later Middle Ages as a whole. This endeavor too, though, grew over time with the consequence that I needed to do it in two volumes, yet two volumes that form a unified whole, even with the first volume appearing first, to be followed shortly by the second. This two-​volume work then seeks to establish what late medieval Augustinianism actually was. As such, it stands on its own, as well as providing the requisite point of departure for a re-​interpretation of the role and influence of Augustinianism in the Reformation.

7 High Way to Heaven was, at least by Richard Kieckhefer, seen as too long; see his review in Speculum 80/​2 (1995): 667–​6670.

xii Preface This last phrase, however, may appear to be a mis-​statement, or a lapse of memory, as a major theme of my work has been the argument that there was no such thing, as such, as “late medieval Augustinianism,” or at least that if we use the term, we should do so historically, whereby only the religious identity of the Order of Hermits of St. Augustine (oesa) can legitimately claim to be described, in a historical rather than in a theological understanding, as late medieval Augustinianism.8 I still hold to that position, for it was, and still is, asserted as a means to bring the scholarly debate back to a historical basis rather than one explicitly or implicitly focused on the confessional, theological positions of the ones doing the interpreting. There is good reason to refer to the later Middle Ages as such as an “age of Augustine” or an “age of Augustinianism,” or the “Augustinian later Middle Ages,” yet doing so obscures as much as it might illumine historical contours and developments as did Heiko Oberman’s reference to the “Franciscan Middle Ages.”9 “Augustinian traditions” could be a useful term since it would acknowledge the ambiguity and the multiplicity of Augustine’s reception, influence, and impact without attempting to concretize it into any one particular reception, influence, or impact. Keeping that broader, more general perspective in mind, here “late medieval Augustinianism” is understood as referring to the historical phenomena of living as an Augustinian. Thus the qualification “Historically seen” in each of the four theses stated above. In this context we can identify more specific phenomena of how Augustine and his works affected the historical developments of the later Middle Ages. It is far more than an issue of “mere semantics”; it is an issue of historical understanding, and how we describe that understanding, which is, by necessity, always a creation of the historian. We are prisoners to language and the words we use to describe what we observe often shape and create that which we observe. With that recognition as a given, here I attempt to present my interpretation, my understanding, of that specific, determined influence of Augustine and his heritage as it was embodied in the late medieval oesa. This particular reception and appropriation of Augustine was the only historically legitimate referent for the ahistorical term “late medieval Augustinianism.” It was, however, this specific reception, influence, and impact of Augustine that served as a catalyst, at least in part, for the Reformation and emergence of early modern Europe. That, in any case, is the argument in what follows below. 8 E.L. Saak, Creating Augustine. Interpreting Augustine and Augustinianism in the Later Middle Ages (Oxford, 2012). 9 Heiko A. Oberman, “Fourteenth-​Century Religious Thought: A Premature Profile,” in idem, The Dawn of the Reformation (Edinburgh, 1986), 1–​17; 2.

Preface

xiii

There is, though, a third reason why this book is legitimate, at least in my own mind. In his classic study, Amor Dei, John Burnaby wrote in his preface: The years in which this book has been written have been a time in which pride, hatred, and violence have seemed the rulers of this world, and the meditation of an ancient ideal has been too easily oppressed by a sense of futility. St. Augustine stands for the faith that an advancing knowledge and an increasing love of the Eternal God is the only foundation upon which frail men can build the love of one another and learn to live together in peace … It may be that at long last a broken world will come back to the love of that Beauty which is old, but ever new.10 If only it were true. Burnaby wrote these lines in 1938. The better part of a century later, we still live in a world in which pride, hatred and violence seem to be the rulers of the world. My country is being torn apart by hate and violence. In the current political crisis, the current soul searching in trying to figure out who we are as a country, in the current dilemma of individuals balancing the competing instincts of fighting or fleeing, in the conflict of despair and hope, what relevance at all can a study of late medieval Augustinianism have? We are still living in a broken world, and Augustine’s teaching of Love remains the only remedy for the pride, hatred, and violence that continues to infect and comprise the saeculum, regardless of the moralistic and religious rhetoric used for self-​justification. In so many ways, not only the late medieval Augustinians, but also Augustine himself has been forgotten, and rendered mute, and that is, perhaps, precisely why this current volume is needed, to remind of a time when Augustine’s doctrines of love fueled the social action of an entire religious institution. It pales in comparison with the need to address gun violence, white supremacy, nationalism, terrorism, corruption, the attack on truth, and global warming, by no means an exhaustive list. And yet as so many in El Paso asserted after the gun violence and white supremacy that exerted its hate on their community in the summer of 2019, love is the means to heal their community, their city, and our country, a position that has been and remains foundational for President Biden, even after the storming of the Capitol on 6 January 2021. Burnaby’s words ring eerily true eighty years later, and not completely without reason when we have the courage to recognize the parallel perils. Thus, for what it is worth, as little as it might be, the work that follows is dedicated to the love that Augustine advocated, even if the theme of love itself 10

John Burnaby, Amor Dei. A Study of the Religion of St. Augustine (London, 1938), vii.

xiv Preface is not often present explicitly in the pages that follow. It is why I study the late medieval Augustinian tradition, and why I feel it is so essential, and relevant, to our world today, lest we forget the world that led Burnaby to write his lines quoted above. I don’t know what will happen with my country as I write these lines, and I am rather skeptical of realizing the extent and depth of healing that is needed. Yet there is always hope, even if vague and dim. Being an Augustinian myself, at least in a certain way, I accept as a given that God’s plan and our hopes do not always coincide, if they ever really do (Isaiah 55:8-​9). For both history and theology, the comprehensive interpretation of Augustine’s reception, influence, and impact in the later Middle Ages, if it is to be forthcoming at all, will be the work of others. Here I offer only some notes on one part of that reception, influence, and impact, that I hope will serve as points of departure for others, representing as they do the culmination of my work since that first day long ago when I discovered Trapp’s article in Augustiniana 1956 and was transported into a state of awe. The awe remains, even if the understanding has grown, and as the understanding has grown, the awe has likewise just increased. As historians and as theologians we so often portray ourselves as masters of the past. We should recapture the awe and the wonder, not so much as dwarfs standing on the shoulders of giants, though that we are, but as dwarfs gazing upon the giants of the past in amazement and wonder at the world to which we no longer have access, which we can never visit and never, really, understand, try as we may. If wonder and awe are not what is clearly present in the chapters that follow, the reader should know they are there, underneath, underneath the conventions of our scholarly hubris that are intended to reveal not the scholarly erudition of the historian, but the awe and wonder at the minds, hearts, and lives of those long since dead and gone, whose only voice is that which we can give them, faint and faulty though it may be. May we listen well, we in our grossly impoverished intellectual world, who can only offer up what we can as a means of mourning our loss as we pay tribute to what we cannot hope to recover. If I can serve as a spokesperson for the mute, dead Augustinians, whose voices we still would be well advised to strive to listen to and to hear, I will have met my hopes and goals for my own work. Thus too this book. The study that follows is a new creation of what is signified explicitly by the term “Augustinian Theology” in the chronological period referenced descriptively by the term “the Later Middle Ages.” Creation it is, and consciously so, but creation is not fiction. The historian is grounded in the existence of her sources, sources that signify, somehow, the muted voices of the past to which the historian has the daunting responsibility of making heard once again.

Preface

xv

Historical fiction has its place, and if and/​or when it is done well, it can enrich our historical understanding. But historical fiction is not history. Just as the historian is a slave to language, so is the historian a slave to the extant sources. Thus in the chapters that follow, I strive to describe, analyze, interpret, and understand the sources of the late medieval Augustinians, or at least some of them, and to present my understanding and interpretation thereof to come to a new understanding and representation of the Augustinian theology of the later Middle Ages, creating thereby a new understanding of late medieval Augustinianism, even as a slave to language and to the sources. I can only hope that fundamentally as simply some “notes” on the Augustinian theology of the later Middle Ages, it may serve itself as a catalyst and inspiration for new and further work on the extant sources, many of which have still never been read, even if only by some future undergraduate, deep in the stacks of her undergraduate library. While the present volume is a new work, I have, at times, drawn on previously published material. Chapter 1 includes work originally published in articles as: “In the Wake of Lombard: The Reception of Augustine in the Early Thirteenth Century,” Augustinian Studies 46/​1 (2015): 71–​104; and in part, though here much expanded, “Augustine and Augustinianisms in the Fourteenth Century: The Cases of Petrarch and Robert de Bardis,” in Agostino, Agostinianie Agostinismi nel Trecento Italiano, ed. Johannes Bartuschat, Elisa Brilli and Delphine Carron (Ravenna: Longa, 2018), 127–​150. Chapter 2 is comprised for the most part of “In Search of Origins: The Foundation(s) of the oesa,” Analecta Augustiniana 75 (2012): 5–​24, and “Living the Augustinian Life in the Later Middle Ages: Daily Life in the oesa and Brother Jordan of Quedlinburg,” in Vita Quotidiana e Tradizioni nei Conventi dell’Ordine di Sant’Agostino, ed. Isaac González Marcos, oesa and Josef Scriberras, osa (Rome, 2018), 113–​147. I would like to express my gratitude to the publishers for their permission to reprint such material here. There are, though, too many people to list each and every one who deserves my recognition and sincere gratitude for all they have done for me. Nevertheless, four individuals, giants of the previous generation, deserve special mention, for this book is in many ways dedicated to their memory, and would not have been possible without them: Damasus Trapp, osa, Adolar Zumkeller, osa, Alberic de Meijer, osa, and Heiko A. Oberman. C.H. Kneepkens, Karl Gersbach, osa, and Martijn Schrama, osa have been foundational and my debt and gratitude to them is profound. To Robert Bast, John Frymire, Andrew Gow, and Karla Pollmann I am more indebted than I can ever repay and more grateful than I can ever express.

xvi Preface Likewise deserving of special mention for a variety of reasons are Pascale Bermon, Monica Brinzei, Robert Christman, Mathijs Lamberigts, Jonathan Reid, Chris Schabel, and Fr. Josef Scriberras, osa. Robert Bast further merits mention and my gratitude for his close reading of the manuscript and his many corrections and suggestions, which have made this book better than it would have been otherwise. The flaws that remain, remain my own. And to my former colleagues in the Department of Divinity of the University of Aberdeen, I can only say thank you, for one brief shining moment … Twenty years ago, my High Way to Heaven appeared in the Brill series Studies in Medieval and Reformation Traditions. Working with Brill over the years has been much appreciated and I thank them for their patience. I have promised far more than I have delivered. I cannot sufficiently express my appreciation for the intellectual and scholarly freedom Brill allows, giving priority to authors and scholarship, rather than to concerns of “marketability,” which is ever so rare these days. I am most gratified that this work is published in Brill’s series Studies in the History of Christian Traditions, and I thank the editor, Robert Bast. It is a fitting circle, so to speak, as both smrt and shct were founded by Heiko Oberman, and have continued to publish ground-​breaking research. If scholarship is conditioned and limited by trends and the assumed market, true scholarship is dead. Brill is keeping it alive, and for that we all should be grateful. My greatest debt of all, though, is to my wife, Anja Petrakopoulos. Her love, support, encouragement, courage, strength, and perseverance have been as sustaining during turmoil and crises as they have been inspirational. This work could not have been completed without her. Eric Leland Saak Indianapolis 16 July 2021

Tables and Figures Tables 1  Colonna positions and the list of Giles 209 2  Augustinus’s Augustine citations 291 3  Augustinus de Ancona, Summa de potestate ecclesiastica, pars tercia (qq. 76–​112) 316 4  The four pillars of late medieval augustinian theology 346 5  Authenticated works of Henry of Friemar 353 6  Works of Henry extant in a single manuscript 357 7  Henry’s citation of legal sources 377 8  Henry’s non-​legal authorities 378 9  Henry’s specific citations of Augustine 380 10  Hermann’s dated authenticated works 389 11  Hermann’s authentic works no longer extant 393 12  Speculum manuale sacerdotum, outline (based on Den Haag, kb, ms 70 G 19, fol. 7r-​20v) 432 13  Jordan of Quedlinburg’s citations in op sermons 3–​11 (first sunday in advent) 474 14  o d Sermons categories 479 15  Thomas’s De articulis fidei structure 483 16  Tractatus de articulis fidei structure, op sermo 102 487 17  Geographical division of the Apostlesa 490 18  Comparison of Jordan and Augustine: credere deum/​Christum 497

Figures 1  Ecclesiastical hierarchy 245 2  Church and state in Marsilius 407

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Abbreviations An.Aug. Aug(L) b sih c ccm Lombard o ghra p l s hct s mrt SuR SuR.nr v f wa WABr

Analecta Augustiniana Augustiniana Brill’s Studies in Intellectual History Corpus Christianorum, Continuatio Mediaevalis Petrus Lombardus, Sententiae in iv Libris Distinctae. Spicilegium Bonaventurianum 4–​5. 2 vols. Grottaferrata, 1971; 1981 The Oxford Guide to the Historical Reception of Augustine. Ed. Karla Pollmann, et al. 3 vols. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2013 Patrologiae cursus completes: series Latina. Ed.J.-​P. Migne. Paris, 1841–​1864. Studies in the History of Christian Traditions Studies in Medieval and Reformation Traditions Spätmittelalter und Reformation Spätmittelalter und Reformation. Neue Reihe Jordani de Saxonia, Liber Vitasfratrum. Ed. Winfridus Hümpfner and Rudolph Arbesmann. Cassiciacum 1. New York, 1943 D. Martin Luthers Werke. Kritische Gesamtausgabe. 61 vols. Weimar: Herman Böhlaus, 1883–​1990 D. Martin Luthers Werke. Kritische Gesamtausgabe. Briefwechsel.16 vols. Weimar: Herman Böhlaus, 1930–​1980

Introduction

Influence and Impact

Almost eleven hundred years after Augustine, Bishop of Hippo, died on 28 August 430 ce, Martin Luther began his Ninety-​seven Thesis Against Scholastic Theology in September 1517 by asserting that to claim Augustine had ever spoken excessively was a damnable heresy.1 He had earlier that year already proudly proclaimed the triumph of Augustine’s theology at the University of Wittenberg,2 and the previous year Luther had rebuked his senior colleague Andreas Karlstadt in a public disputation of Luther’s student Bartholomew of Feldkirchen over Karlstadt’s acceptance of the treatise On True and False Penitence as an authentic work of Augustine, which led Karlstadt to go out and purchase the new Amerbach edition of Augustine’s Opera Omnia and get to work. His intensive study led to his realization that Luther had been right, and prompted his publishing a new commentary on Augustine’s On the Spirit and the Letter in 1518,3 before heading off to become one of the major founders of the “Radical Reformation.”4 Not that long thereafter, John Calvin strongly asserted that Augustine was completely on his side,5 even as Augustine remained a central authority for the opponents of the new theological positions, with the result that in the later seventeenth century the conflicts over Jansenism were in some ways a conflict over the interpretation of Augustine. It would seem that Benjamin Warfield was right when he so aptly encapsulated the matter in 1956: “the Reformation, internally considered, was just the ultimate triumph of Augustine’s doctrine of grace over Augustine’s doctrine of the Church.”6 Whatever causes historians might identify of the Reformation, somehow Augustine, and his reception and interpretation, had something to do with it, thereby contributing to the emergence of Early Modern Europe, an impact of significant historical proportions indeed. 1 wa 1.224,7–​8. 2 WABr 1.99,8–​9. 3 Ernst Kӓhler, Karlstadt und Augustin. Der Kommentar des Andreas Bodenstein von Karlstad tzu Augustins Schrift De spiritu et littera, Hallische Monographien 19 (Halle, 1952). 4 Ronald J.Sider, Andreas Bodenstein von Karlstadt. The Development of his Thought, 1517–​1524, smrt 11 (Leiden, 1974); George Huntston Williams, The Radical Reformation (Philadelphia, 1962). 5 Lange van Ravensway, Augustinus totus noster. Das Augustinverständnis bei Johannes Calvin (Göttingen, 1990). 6 Benjamin Warfield, Calvin and Augustine (Philadelphia, 1956), 321–​322.

© Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, 2022 | DOI:10.1163/9789004504707_002

2 Introduction Yet an assumed conflict between Augustine’s doctrine of grace and his ecclesiology is one Augustine himself would not have recognized, and polarizing the issues in such a fashion obscures other lines of Augustine’s influence and impact. Before Luther became famous for his theses attacking indulgences, and before he had proclaimed Augustine’s triumph at the University of Wittenberg, whose patron saint Augustine was, there had already been a long-​standing conflict over Augustine’s heritage, namely, whether Augustine had first established his Order of Hermits, or his Order of Canons, or whether he had been a monastic of any sort at all. This was a conflict of which Luther too was well aware, at least in part, and, as a member of the Order of Hermits of St. Augustine, sided with the Hermits,7 even as he did not know the theological traditions of his own Order, or much of their history for that matter. Even if Luther had read the Order’s “handbook,” the Liber Vitasfratrum of the fourteenth-​century Augustinian Hermit Jordan of Quedlinburg, he gives no evidence of having done so.8 Whereas the theological debates over Augustine’s doctrine of grace and predestination had, in some fashion, an influence on the emergence of the Reformation, Augustine’s monasticism, his religion, as it was termed, has been pushed to the sidelines. One could rephrase Warfield’s insight and claim that the Reformation was, externally considered, the triumph of a particular interpretation of Augustine’s doctrine of grace over Augustine’s monasticism, the latter of which Ernst Troeltsch saw already in the early twentieth century as having been the first Christian cultural ethic in the West.9 It was, though, this Christian cultural ethic that produced the architects of papal hierocratic political theory, the position Luther himself vigorously attacked, and the position that advocated for the first time a comprehensive political absolutism, that only later became secularized in the seventeenth century giving its moniker to an entire Age.10 Historically seen, influence and impact are there, even if unrecognized by modern historians. Augustine’s influence and impact on the emergence of Early Modern Europe, moreover, was not limited to the theological debates of the Reformation. Petrarch, the “Father of Humanism,” turned to Augustine at the very beginning of his public career as a guide and inspiration, immortalized in Petrarch’s

7 Saak, Creating Augustine, 171–​173. 8 Saak, Luther and the Reformation of the Later Middle Ages, 64–​98; 202–​223. 9 Ernst Troeltsch, Augustin, die christliche Antike und das Mittelalter. Im Anschluss an die Schrift ‘De Civitate Dei’ (Berlin, 1915). 10 Certainly, though, Gregory vii and Innocent iii contributed to the rise of papal monarchy that was requisite to the further development of papal absolutism. For papal monarchy, see Colin Morris, The Papal Monarchy. The Western Church from 1050–​1250 (Oxford, 1989).

Introduction

3

Secret. Petrarch, however, could not follow Augustine the whole way, he could not entirely walk in Augustine’s footsteps, finally rejecting Augustine’s advice, thereby giving clear evidence of Damasus Trapp’s insight that rejection speaks as strongly for influence as does acceptance.11 Even if Petrarch’s fellow humanists did not exhibit an equal devotion to Augustine,12 somehow Augustine, through his impact on Petrarch, left his mark not only on the origins of the Reformation, but also on those of the Italian Renaissance. And here too the monastic heirs of Augustine, the “true sons of Augustine” as they portrayed themselves,13 the members of the Order of Augustinian Hermits, had a role to play, for, if we can accept Petrarch at his word, which is difficult to do so often, his copy of the Confessions that he took with him on his famous ascent of Mount Ventoux had been given to him by the Augustinian Hermit and Prior General of the Order, Dionysius de Burgo of San Sepulchro, and toward the end of his life, Petrarch returned his copy to the “home of Augustine” (domus Augustini), sending it back to another Augustinian Hermit, and humanist, Luigi Marsilii.14 In many ways it was indeed Petrarch’s rejection of Augustine, of Augustine’s Christian, cultural ethic, that served as a catalyst for the Renaissance; and it was the rejection of the Augustinian Christian cultural ethic that we find in the emergence of the Reformation, even as the appropriation of Augustine was a major factor. For the two movements, the two “events,” that together served as midwife to the birth of Early Modern Europe, the Renaissance and the Reformation, Augustine’s impact was central, and his footprints, the vestigia Augustini, are clearly to be seen, if only we have eyes to look. 1

Augustine and Augustinianism

Looking, however, may be more difficult than it might seem. If Augustine’s impact on the origins of early modern Europe in the Renaissance and the Reformation can be analyzed and evaluated with greater precision than it has been to date, we first need to establish, to the extent possible, the relationship 11

A. Damasus Trapp, osa, “A Round-​Table Discussion of a Parisian OCist.-​Team and OESA-​ Team about AD 1350,” Recherches de Théologie ancienne et médiévale 51 (1984), 206–​ 222; 207. 12 Arnoud Visser, “Augustine in Renaissance Humanism,” in oghra 1:68–​74. 13 Saak, High Way to Heaven, ch. 2: “Creating Religious Identity: The Myth of Augustine,” 160–​234. 14 Saak, “Augustine and Augustinianisms in the Fourteenth Century: The Cases of Petrarch and Robert de Bardis,” in Agostino, Agostinianie Agostinismi nel Trecento Italiano, ed. Johannes Bartuschat, Elisa Brilli and Delphine Carron (Ravenna, 2018), 127–​150.

4 Introduction between Augustine, a late medieval Augustinianism, and the Renaissance and Reformation. In order to do that, however, we first need to determine what is signified by the terms; or in other words, what it is we are talking about when we talk about Augustine and a late medieval Augustinianism. It is, technically speaking, misleading or just plain wrong to claim that Augustine had any influence or impact at all after 430 ce. Augustine was dead and gone. His texts, however, remained, at least in part, as did his memory, with memory here signifying not Augustine’s own memory, but the memory of him of later individuals. Augustine’s own discussions of time and memory in his Confessions are of relevance here,15 for memory is that which gives us our identity, our sense of who we are. When memory is combined with understanding, it produces meaning, the meaning we find in ourselves, our lives, and our worlds. Meaning then is creative and to that extent is mythic, expressing mytho-​poetic truths rather than scientific ones that are subject to experimental verification.16 When we write about Augustine today, we create Augustine in our own memories and understandings, even as our interpretations are based on the extant sources available to us. The “object” of our researches are Augustine’s texts, not Augustine himself. We create an “Augustine” as we interpret the extant sources, whereby the term “Augustine” signifies not the Bishop of Hippo or his dead body in Pavia, but our interpretation and understanding of his texts extant today that signify a historical author. “Our Augustine,” based on our own understanding and memory, is our creation and as such has nothing much to do at all with the son of Monica and Patricius, and the father of Adeodatus. We can debate the meaning of those texts with other scholars, who have created slightly different Augustines based on their memory and understanding, producing differing meanings, but the object of those debates are texts, not the author that the texts might signify. Those texts, comprised of marks on a page, are meaningless until we give them meaning, until we create meaning for them in the process of our reading, analyzing, and interpreting in coming to an understanding. Augustine is our own creation. And so is “Augustinianism.” The word itself was created in the nineteenth century to describe scholars’ interpretations of extant texts.17 Texts, both those we interpret and those we create to communicate our interpretations—​that 15 Aug. conf. 10,8,15–​10,36,37; 11,9,11–​11,30,40. 16 See Eric Leland Saak, History, Myth, and Ideology I: The Sermons of St. Augustine Collected by Jordan of Quedlinburg, OESA (d. 1380)—​Introduction, Text, and Translation, Jordani de Quedlinburg Opera Selecta vol. v (Forthcoming Brill Academic Publishers). 17 See Saak, “Augustinianism” in oghra 2:596–​599.

Introduction

5

is, our sources, and our scholarly interpretation of those source—​are artifacts made by their creators that still exist today, at least the ones that do. As such, they are simply markings, and for medieval historians, markings on sheets of velum, parchment, or paper, sitting in libraries, with no meaning whatsoever—​ until they are read. Once read, deciphered and de-​coded, the problems simply become greater. Texts, a word derived from the Latin textus, or weave, the basis for our word “textiles,” present worlds of various significations. No text interprets itself, and historians can legitimately debate what the marks on the page actually are, what they signify, and what they mean. Such basic level issues of interpretation are then prerequisite for arguments regarding the historical significance or value of a particular text, which is not to say that the problems involved in such interpretation are “basic.” Long before Saussure, late medieval nominalists asserted that words signify ad placitum, according to convention, going back at least to Augustine’s position that the cultural context is what determines the relationship between a sign and what it signifies.18 To get the signification “right,” historians have to know the cultural context, the convention, which itself is only revealed in, through, and by other texts, which have to be interpreted as well. Texts, to repeat myself, do not interpret themselves, but texts do interpret, or help interpret, other texts in a grand weave of textuality. The complex indeterminacy of texts, every text, presents the interpreter with the conundrum of a version of the “Mensongean cul-​de-​sac” as Malcom Bradbury so delightfully satirically put it.19 We cannot really say what a given text means without appeal to other texts which are equally problematic and indeterminate, including the texts we create to describe the indeterminacy. We can argue philosophically that the meaning of language breaks down upon analysis, yet we can only describe such lack of meaning by means of language, which our own analysis reveals as lacking meaning, and on it goes. Either we can simply give up in despair, or, we have to find some way through the interpretive labyrinth. Augustinianism has been one such attempt to describe the world of texts that modern scholars have determined had something to do with the creators of those texts having read the texts of Augustine. It easily became, as all such -​isms perhaps, taken for a “thing” in itself. This led to scholarly debates over what it really signified, or at least over how it was to be used, even as “Augustinianism” remained a substantive term to signify a variety of interpretations of texts and their significations that scholars identified as 18 19

Robert Markus, “Sign, Communication, and Communities in Augustine’s De Doctrina Christiana,” in De Doctrina Christiana. A Classic of Western Culture, ed. Duane W.H. Arnold and Pamela Bright (Notre Dame, 1995), 97–​108; 103. Malcolm Bradbury, My Strange Quest for Mensonge (New York, 1988), 63f.

6 Introduction being able to be described adjectively as “Augustinian” based on those texts and their significations having had something to do with their authors’ own interpretation or use of the texts of Augustine or ascribed to Augustine. With such terms then scholars, since the turn of the twentieth century, if not before, sought to uncover the influence of Augustine’s texts and/​or a late medieval Augustinianism on the origins of Luther’s Reformation theology since Luther had read Augustine and was himself a member of the Order of Hermits of St. Augustine.20 The focus was primarily on whether a late medieval Augustinian anti-​Pelagianism had been communicated to Luther through his Order, the oesa, or, whether Luther developed his own Augustinianism by his own reading of Augustine. Such an endeavor was seen as valid since scholars had likewise noted what appeared to be an increased knowledge and/​ or use of Augustine in the later Middle Ages, particularly by members of the oesa, that seemed to have had a relationship of some sort with a renewed anti-​Pelagianism, whereby scholars, predominantly members of the oesa, attacked opponents as being Pelagian, basing their arguments on Augustine’s anti-​Pelagian works. This new Augustinianism was seen by Heiko Oberman as having been a genuine renaissance of Augustine, whereby the new anti-​ Pelagianism led to a new scholarly erudition with respect to Augustine’s texts. The term “Augustinian Renaissance,” coined by Oberman in 1974, provided the proximate context (occasio proxima), though not cause, of Luther’s Reformation theology.21 The debate, however, was further complicated by two additional terms: the first, the schola Augustiniana moderna, or “modern Augustinian school” as put forward by Damasus Trapp, osa, and the second, the “Augustinian School” (Augustinerschule) as proposed by Adolar Zumkeller, osa. Trapp’s schola Augustiniana moderna was a rather short lived phenomenon, having been initiated by Gregory of Rimini in the early 1340s but that had seen its demise already with the Great Schism.22 For Trapp, the schola Augustiniana moderna was based on an epistemological focus on individuals (cognitio rei particularis), 20 See Saak, High Way to Heaven, 683–​708. 21 Heiko A. Oberman, “Headwaters of the Reformation: Initia Lutheri—​ Initia Reformationis,”in idem, ed. Luther and the Dawn of the Modern Era: Papers for the Fourth International Congress for Luther Research, shct 8 (Leiden, 1974), 40–​88; cf. Oberman, Werden und Wertung der Reformation. Vom Wegestreit zum Glaubenskampf (Tübingen, 1977), 82–​140; see also Saak, “Oberman, Heiko Augustinus,” in oghra 3:1461–​1462. 22 “The death knell of the Schola Modernorum rang when the schism destroyed the scholastic standards of Paris by subordinating the academic world, its institutions and its magisterial dignities, to political expediency.” Trapp, “Hiltalinger’s Augustinian Quotations,” Aug(L) 4 (1954): 412–​449; 424.

Introduction

7

rather than on universals (cognitio rei universalis), combined with a historico-​ critical, as distinct from a logico-​critical, attitude toward citing sources.23 Zumkeller’s Augustinian School, however, was a more general descriptive term of the self-​understanding of members of the oesa, based on references by Augustinians to “our school” (schola nostra). The problem, and confusion, was that Zumkeller’s Augustinian School became fused with 1. the concept of medieval theological schools as described by Franz Ehrle implying a particular character of the theology so described; and 2. with Trapp’s schola Augustiniana moderna. As a result, then, the late medieval Augustinian School was likewise associated with Augustine’s anti-​Pelagianism of Heiko Oberman’s concept of the Augustinian Renaissance, forming thereby a late medieval Augustinianism, which may, or may not, have been the context, even if not cause, of Luther’s developing theology.24 Two further terms muddied the waters even further: the first is “nominalism,” and the second, the via moderna. Nominalism has often been seen as a theology opposing Augustinianism, and yet, Gregory of Rimini has often been considered a nominalist.25 Nominalism was what destroyed the grand Thomistic synthesis and led, eventually, to the breakup of Christendom with Luther, for Luther was, so it was asserted, himself a nominalist. Yet “nominalism” is retroactively applied to the fourteenth century so that some scholars have argued that we should not use the term.26 Trapp argued that one does not find the term “nominalist” in the sources before the Great Schism, and it was still unknown in Prague in 1381, and thus, with no nominalists, there cannot have 23 Trapp, “Augustinian Theology of the Fourteenth Century,” 150–​152. 24 Saak, High Way to Heaven, 684–​691. 25 See Trapp, “Augustinian Theology of the Fourteenth Century,” 182–​190. 26 William J. Courtenay, “Nominalism and Late Medieval Religion,” in Charles Trinkaus and Heiko A. Oberman, eds., The Pursuit of Holiness (Leiden, 1974), 26–​59; “Inasmuch as to use the term ‘nominalism’ is to invite misunderstanding, and, however defined, it adds nothing to our understanding of the theories discussed below, it will not be employed in this book.” Katherine H. Tachau, Vision and Certitude in the Age of Ockham. Optics, Epistemology and the Foundations of Semantics, 1250–​1345, Studien und Texte zur Geistesgeschichte des Mittelalters 22 (Leiden, 1988), xv, n. 5. The confusion has, nevertheless, continued. Heiko Oberman, for example, while acknowledging the distinction between “nominalism,” the moderni and the via moderna, still argued that “we continue to render via moderna as ‘nominalism’.” Heiko Oberman, “Via Antiqua and Via Moderna: Late Medieval Prolegomena to Early Reformation Thought,” in, Heiko Oberman, The Impact of the Reformation (Grand Rapids, MI, 1994), 3–​22; 6; originally published in Journal of the History of Ideas 48 (1987): 23–​40. This continues to confuse the issues by equating the via moderna with “nominalism,” rather than the nominalistae, and thus too the moderni, whereby Ockham, in Oberman’s terms, remains a “nominalist” of the via moderna, even if Oberman recognized this was not technically the historical reality.

8 Introduction been a fourteenth-​century school of nominalism.27 Yet “nominalism” and the “nominalists” were terms that have remained, and have been often associated with or equated with the via moderna, since the via moderna was that of the nominalists as opposed to the realists of the via antiqua.28 Fifteenth-​century members of the via moderna traced their origins to Ockham, which led then to Ockham being seen as the founder of the via moderna and late medieval nominalism, even though the terms did not yet exist in Ockham’s day. However, the term moderni, or the “moderns” did indeed exist and thus the moderni often became equated with the moderni of the via moderna who were the nominalists. Yet the via moderna and the via antiqua were institutional designations of how the arts were to be taught in fifteenth-​century German universities, a very few of which, Tübingen being one, had both viae, including for theology.29 The Wegestreit was an important development for fifteenth-​century German universities, but it does not help to use those terms to describe fourteenth-​century developments. Thus Trapp’s insistence on using descriptive terms such as the cognitio rei particularis rather than nominalism, even for the moderni. The moderni were contrasted with the “old fashioned” antiqui, but cannot be equated with the via moderna and the via antiqua. The use of the terms “Augustinian” and “Augustinianism” became tied up with these other terms and separating them all to clarify not only the nomenclature, but even more importantly the historical development, is a difficult process. While the purpose of this present work is not to give final definitions once and for all, it does hope to bring some clarity into the discussion of Augustinianism and into what constitutes Augustinian theology. For this endeavor, nominalism, not to mention the Wegestreit, has no historical value, for it is simply an abstracted a priori that tells us very little indeed about any particular individual we determine deserves the label. Rather than philosophical or theological definitions, we need to analyze the historical record and draw our categories for description and classification therefrom. We need to seek the historical definition of actually having lived as an Augustinian and as having been an Augustinian,30 since the debate lost sight of the methodological principles that what we as scholars are describing are texts, or signs (signa), not

27

Trapp, “Clm 27034. Unchristened Nominalism and Wycliffite Realism at Prague in 1381,” Recherches de Théologie ancienne et médiévale 24 (1957): 320–​360; 320–​321. 28 See Oberman, “Via Antiqua and Via Moderna,” as in note 26 above; cf. James Overfield, Humanism and Scholasticism in Late Medieval Germany (Princeton, 1984). 29 Heiko A. Oberman, Werden und Wertung der Reformation. Vom Wegestreit zum Glaubenskampf (Tübingen, 1977). 30 Saak, Creating Augustine, 222–​228.

Introduction

9

the things they signify (significata). Without terminological clarity, we are not only comparing the proverbial apples with oranges, but begin arguing about the terms we have ourselves created. David Steinmetz indeed discussed five different meanings and/​or uses of the term “late medieval Augustinianism.”31 But the influence of Augustine and/​or a late medieval Augustinianism on Luther has not been the only avenue of research with respect to Augustine’s impact on the origins of modernity. Augustine’s influence on Petrarch has since the early twentieth century been a recognized theme of research,32 and art historians at least since the mid-​twentieth century and the work of the Courcelles have pointed to the influence of Augustine on late medieval and Renaissance iconography.33 Members of the Order of St. Augustine have likewise been the primary scholars detailing the history of the Order (the oesa) and publishing texts central to that history from the foundation of the Analecta Augustiniana in 1905 to the editions of the registers of the priors general, extending into the twenty-​first century.34 And more recently, I have introduced the term “mendicant theology” to describe the self-​understanding of members of the oesa as being the true sons and heirs of Augustine, which cannot be reduced to distinctions and divisions of scholastic theology and spirituality or religious life.35 Mendicant theology is not as such restricted to the Augustinians. It was introduced as a counterpoint to the traditional term “monastic theology” as distinct from “scholastic theology,” and it was the Augustinians’ mendicant theology that produced a renaissance of Augustine, a genuine re-​birth. For the late medieval Augustinian Hermits, spirituality, religious life, and their theological endeavor, which incorporated the theological instruction at both university studia and non-​university studia, formed their preaching mission. In this light, membership in the oesa was what 31

David Steinmetz, Luther and Staupitz, An Essay in the Intellectual Origins of the Protestant Reformation, Duke Monographs in Medieval and Renaissance Studies 4 (Durham, N.C., 1980), 13–​16. 32 Ugo Mariani, Il Petrarca e gli Agostiniana (Rome, 1946); see also Chapter One below. 33 Jeanne and Pierre Courcelle, Iconographie de Saint Augustin, 4 vols. (Paris, 1965–​ 1980); Alessandro Cosima, Iconografia, vol. 1; Alessandro Cosma, Valerio Da Gai, and Gianni Pittiglio, Iconografia Agostiniana xli/​1: Dalle Origini al XIV Secolo (Rome, 2011); Alessandro Cosma and Gianni Pittiglio, Iconografia Agostiniana, xli/​2: Il Quattrocento, 2 vols. (Rome, 2015). 34 The Augustinian Historical Institute in Rome began publishing editions of the registers of the prior generals in 1976 with the register of Gregory of Rimini, Gregorii de Arimino O.S.A. Registrum Generalatus, 1357–​1358, ed. Albericus de Meijer, osa (Rome, 1976). The last volume published was in 2011, the fourth volume in the register of Thaddeus of Perugia, Thaddaei Perusini Registrum Generalatus IV, 1574–​1576, ed. Claudia Castellani (Rome, 2011). 35 Saak, High Way to Heaven, 362.

10 Introduction made one an Augustinian, and it is the Order itself that produced the scholars who effected a renaissance of Augustine, scholars who were simultaneously religious and theologians. To this extent, Zumkeller’s concept of the “Augustinian School” comes to the fore consisting of the self-​understanding of the members of the Order. However, the term “school” is too restrictive and confusing and too easily conflated with Trapp’s schola Augustiniana moderna, losing thus its historically descriptive value. The theology of the Order cannot be limited by the references to a schola nostra. As will be argued in the chapters below, the theology of the Augustinians must be placed within the context of their self-​understanding as following in the footsteps of Augustine as Augustine’s true sons and heirs, following and living Augustine’s religion (religio Augustini). The late medieval renaissance of Augustine was a product of the Order’s religion, the religion of Augustine, a religio-​political micro-​ religion36 as it sought to establish its institutional role in society, which was itself a theological endeavor. Late medieval Augustinianism and a late medieval Augustinian renaissance can only have historical value when seen in the broader perspective of the social, political, and religious context of the oesa’s self-​understanding and identity as the true sons of Augustine.37 As will be argued below, Augustine’s religion in the later Middle Ages and its followers, namely, members of the oesa and their self-​identity as being Augustinians, the continuation of Troeltsch’s concept of Augustine’s Christian cultural ethic, formed the Augustinian ideology of the later Middle Ages, which likewise exerted a major influence on how Augustine was represented in the iconography at the time.38 This ideology was not the only late medieval Augustinian tradition. It was, however, the only late medieval Augustinian tradition that could legitimately be considered historically to serve as the referent of the ahistorical term “late medieval Augustinianism,” and consequently provides the referent for what can historically be considered to have been Augustinian theology in the later Middle Ages. The problem is one of hermeneutics, and how we describe historical and theological phenomena. As I argued in the chapter on “Augustine in the Western Middle Ages to the Reformation” for Blackwell’s A Companion to Augustine, “Augustine was unknown in the Middle Ages. He was used and abused, cited and excerpted, copied and created but never really known,”39 36 37 38 39

For the term “micro-​religion,” see Saak, High Way to Heaven, 710–​735. See Saak, “In Search of Origins: The Foundation(s) of the OESA,” An.Aug. 75 (2012): 5–​24. See Saak, Creating Augustine, 139–​194. Eric Leland Saak, “Augustine in the Western Middle Ages to the Reformation,” in The Blackwell Companion to Augustine, ed. Mark Vessey (Oxford, 2012), 465–​477; 465.

Introduction

11

which led James O’Donnell to comment: “To my sober apophthegm that ‘Augustine never saw a Bible in his life’ should be added now, from this volume—​and carved in the carrel, just above a battered copy of TeSelle’s Augustine the Theologian (1970) of every graduate student reading Augustine—​Eric Saak’s ‘Augustine was unknown in the Middle Ages.’ ”40 I made that statement to emphasize the distinction between the “historical Augustine,” or at least our interpretation of the “historical Augustine,” and the medieval understanding, reception, and interpretation of the “historical Augustine.” Augustine certainly was known in the Middle Ages, and Douglas Gray has pointed to the ubiquity of Augustine’s influence in the “diffused” Augustinian tradition whereby Augustine was omnipresent.41 The point was to underscore the disjunction between “our” understanding of Augustine, for which there is no universally accepted consensus, and the medieval understanding of Augustine, and how our understanding of Augustine cannot be used as the basis for interpreting, or judging, the medieval understanding. This was essentially the major thesis of my book Creating Augustine, which sought to demonstrate how the late medieval understanding of Augustine was a conscious late medieval creation of Augustine, and the same can be said, even if not as consciously, of modern creations and interpretations of Augustine and  a late medieval Augustinianism.42 Augustine was not a systematic theologian, whose various teachings and positions could be abstracted and compartmentalized into various fields of contemporary scholarly research, despite how often later theologians, as well as historians, have tried to make him such. “Augustine’s theology” is an abstraction, a creation of historians and/​or theologians who interpret texts ascribed to Augustine. Consequently, “Augustine’s theology” has a similar semantic function to the terms “Augustine” and “Augustinianism” themselves. We so easily forget that what we interpret are not the “things” themselves, but the signs that signify the “things”; we are actually interpreting signs, using other signs to do so, and never can a­ ctually get to that which the signs signify, except by means of the signs we create. If, as a thought experiment if nothing else, we threw out all such signs, terms, and concepts and began anew, how would we describe what we observe? There would still be an Augustine, because there are extant texts that use the sign “Augustine,” so we could posit a historical figure who had 40 41

James O’Donnell, “Envoi: After Augustine?” in A Companion to Augustine, 505–​515; 511. Douglas Gray, “Saint Augustine and Medieval Literature I-​II,” in E. King and J.T. Schaefer eds., Saint Augustine and his Influence in the Middle Ages (Swannee, TN, 1988), 19–​58; 20. 42 Saak, Creating Augustine.

12 Introduction some relationship to the texts and their “Augustine” sign. We could then use the adjective, “Augustinian” to refer to those texts/​signs that in various ways signify our posited signified, and we could use the same adjective to indicate other texts/​signs of other posited authors who cited or seemed to have been influenced by those “Augustinian” signs, so that “Augustinian” would have some relation to “Augustine,” even if not a given one, or a clear one, but a relation that would have to be constructed. Would we need the term “Augustinianism” though? Why introduce a substantive, and what does it signify? What descriptive or analytical value would it add? Could we talk about the signs “Augustine” and “Augustinian” without appealing to an “Augustinianism”? I would think we could, and could do so without losing any understanding, and very possibly have a clearer understanding than we have with the addition of the substantive that has no historical referent. It is at least worth considering. My point in the above is not to enter into a dissertation on the philosophy of language, or on semiotics, and I am not qualified to do so if it were. Nor would I argue that we should not use those terms, or that if we do, that we should always place them within quotation marks to indicate that we are well aware that they are signs of something and not the things themselves. It is rather going back to medieval supposition theory and asking what actually is the type of supposition we are using when we use such terms and what do they supposit for, since the truth value of a proposition is dependent on the supposition of the component terms. “Socrates is running” is true or false depending on whether Socrates is indeed running, when “Socrates” is taken in personal supposition, but it is false if “Socrates” is taken in material supposition for then one of the only true propositions would be “Socrates is a name,” which though would be false with “Socrates” taken in personal supposition. Practically speaking we cannot analyze every proposition we read or write logically, necessarily, but, I would argue, we should be aware of the terms we use to describe our analyses and interpretations, and that what we are analyzing and interpreting are signs themselves that signify the “things” we are really trying to get at and we can only do so by creative construction in bringing meaning to otherwise meaningless marks on the page. In the scholarship on late medieval Augustinianism, such awareness has not always been evident. The book that follows seeks to describe the Augustinian theology of the later Middle Ages based on the analysis and interpretation of meaningless texts that only gain meaning by the analysis and interpretation. That meaning, and its importance for our understanding, will, I can only hope, be clear by the end.

Introduction

2

13

Reception, Influence, and Impact

To help with the pursuit of clarity, we need to go back to the beginning, and to do so in a rather radical way, much as above with the term “Augustine.” If we are to use the terms “Augustinian” and “Augustinianism,” to what would they refer? Or, put another way, for what do they supposit? They could, it would seem, have something to do with Augustine, or at least with his texts and/​or previous memory and understanding of those texts and the created meaning reflected therein. In other words, “Augustinian” and “Augustinianism” derived therefrom have to do somehow with the reception, influence, and impact of Augustine and consequently with what can be considered “Augustinian theology.”43 As Oliver Wendell Homes stated, “A man’s mind, once stretched by a new idea, never regains its original dimensions.”44 This truism applies to the influence of Augustine as well. When one reads Augustine, whether one agrees or disagrees, accepts or rejects, one cannot remain unmoved, unchanged. Yet trying to glimpse, discern, grasp, and measure the original dimensions of the minds of the past is a dubious endeavor at best. We can’t really know what medieval scholars thought and felt; we can only know what they wrote, and making the jump from a written text to the hearts and minds of an individual makes assumptions exceeding the capabilities of the historian. We cannot measure the “dimensions,” original or otherwise, of the minds of the past. The texts themselves, however, are not mute. They reveal how Augustine was cited and used, which gives insight, even if imperfectly and incompletely, of how Augustine was known. In surveying Augustine’s heritage, and the various interpretations of that heritage, three primary images of Augustine created in the minds of his interpreters come to the fore. First, Augustine was an authority as a Church Father, whose works were used to support theological, legal, philosophical, and literary endeavors, directly or indirectly, together with those of other authoritative authors. Second, Augustine was seen as the founder of the Order of Hermits of St. Augustine, at least by members of the Order itself, even as the Augustinian Canons also looked to Augustine as their originator and other monastic groups, such as the Dominicans, followed the Rule of St. Augustine.45 And third, Augustine was the theologian of creation, original sin, grace, predestination, and love, as well as the “hammer of heretics.” At times, these three images fused together in various ways and no single 43 44 45

For definitions of such terms as I am using them here, more or less, see Saak, Creating Augustine, 225–​226. See Oliver Wendell Holmes Quotes—​The Quotations Page. See Matthew D. Ponesse, “Regula,” in oghra 1: 462–​467.

14 Introduction image of Augustine adequately represents Augustine’s influence and impact in the later Middle Ages, as so clearly demonstrated by the monumental Oxford Guide to the Historical Reception of Augustine.46 Indeed, Augustine was omnipresent, and attempts to identify a specific “Augustinianism” at the expense of other avenues of Augustine’s influence have lost the proverbial forest from the trees. Or perhaps better said, Augustine’s influence and impact exceed the capacity of language to describe the phenomena, being reduced to the almost banal adjective “Augustinian,” or elevated to metaphysical status by the addition of an “-​ism.” If the adjective is to have any descriptive value at all, we must first have an idea or concept of what is or is not “Augustinian” and how that determination is made; and if the substantive is to have any historical relevance, we need to bring it back down to earth and realize it is not a “thing” in itself, but a general descriptive categorical term that has some relationship to the concept or idea of what is or is not “Augustinian.” There was no single Augustinian tradition in the later Middle Ages, but various traditions centered around the three images of Augustine detailed in brief above. Yet within any particular tradition, one needs to recognize as well the distinctions and interactions of the reception, influence, and impact of Augustine. The Oxford Guide to the Historical Reception of Augustine has provided the point of departure for all further research in Augustine’s heritage. Reception, however, only takes us so far and does not, in and of itself, reveal influence or impact. Reception, in a general sense, refers to how many of Augustine’s works an individual knew, in what manuscripts, printings, editions, or translations, how that individual used Augustine’s works, and whether the individual had known Augustine’s works themselves or had taken his citations and references from intermediary sources.47 Yet here too we must be careful. Just because an author cited Augustine does not in and of itself indicate that the scholar had read Augustine. Scholars in the later Middle Ages had access to numerous collections of “quotable quotes” from which to draw, so that we must, to the extent possible, attempt to discern whether a given scholar had read Augustine directly, or cited Augustine through secondary means. And if a scholar does not cite Augustine, that does not mean, in and of itself, that he had not read Augustine, or was not influenced by him. St. Anselm is a classic case in this regard, for Anselm almost never cited Augustine, and yet it seems clear that

46 47

Oxford Guide to the Historical Reception of Augustine, ed. Karla Pollmann et al., 3 vols. (Oxford, 2013). See Karla Pollmann, “The Proteanism of Authority. The Reception of Augustine in Cultural History from his Death to the Present,” in oghra 1:3–​14.

Introduction

15

he had read Augustine and was very much influenced by Augustine indeed.48 However, we must be ever aware that parallels do not prove or even indicate as such influence; or perhaps more technically stated, that correlation does not prove causation, even as tantalizing as it can be, and has been in modern attempts to identify a late medieval Augustinianism. These two realizations, that just because a scholar cites Augustine does not mean that he had read Augustine, and that just because a scholar does not cite Augustine does not mean that he had not read Augustine, make tracing the reception of Augustine even more precarious. Citations, or the lack thereof, had a function, and not all citations were, or are, equal. Trying to discern the purpose behind a given citation can be returning to the realm of trying to penetrate the author’s heart and mind. Yet recognizing various functions of citations—​and Heinrich Plett has identified at least four: the authoritative quotation, the erudite quotation, the ornamental quotation, and the poetic quotation—​helps in making such determinations.49 Likewise, being aware of the various means medieval scholars had for access to Augustine’s “quotable quotes” is requisite for the endeavor of evaluating the level of reception of specific Augustinian texts. We may never be able to discern how reading Augustine changed the minds of medieval scholars, but we can, even if imperfectly and only in part, provide a foundation for how Augustine was known and used and by what means, which is prerequisite for any attempt to discern Augustine’s influence and impact, or the contours, however vague, of late medieval Augustinian traditions. It is clear that medieval scholars such as Helinand of Froidmont and Robert Grosseteste had a deep and intimate knowledge of at least some of Augustine’s works, going beyond the citations available in the standard handbooks, namely, Peter Lombard’s Sentences, Gratian’s Decretum, and the Glossa Ordinaria.50 The fourteenth century was by no means when Augustine was first appropriated, nor was theology the only field that looked to Augustine as an auctoritas.51 Yet in the fourteenth century, seen in light of the medieval reception of Augustine as the requisite foundation, we find historical phenomena that can legitimately be described as a renaissance of Augustine in the later Middle Ages, and consequently a new reception and appropriation of Augustine that was

48 49 50 51

David S. Hogg and Jeremy C. Thompson, “Anselm of Canterbury,” in oghra 2:531–​533. Heinrich F. Plett, “Intertextualities,” in Intertextuality, ed. H. Plett (Berlin, 1991), 15. See Saak, “In the Wake of Lombard: The Reception of Augustine in the Early Thirteenth Century,” Augustinian Studies 46/​1 (2015): 71–​104. Saak, “Augustine and his Late Medieval Appropriations (1200–​1500),” oghra 1:39–​50.

16 Introduction the beginning of a new Augustinianism.52 The Augustinian Hermits were the creators of this new Augustinianism which was to have a major impact on the development of the theology, political theory, and religious life of the later Middle Ages and beyond. Yet to see how this was so, we need to move beyond reception to seek the influence and impact of a reception that was not always evidenced by citations. Influence and impact are more amorphous than knowledge and use, even as they get at the heart of what we really want to know. How does one measure influence or impact, and what is the difference? The point here is not to define “influence” and “impact” in any absolute or technical sense. For present purposes, I define “impact” as social, political, or cultural influence, whereas for the individual, impact and influence are identical, so that we can talk about Augustine’s influence on a given individual as being synonymous with Augustine’s impact on that individual, but that influence does not become impact until it goes beyond that individual to have social, political, or cultural significance directly or indirectly. One particular form of influence and its impact is that form of influence whereby individuals considered themselves to be following Augustine, to be walking in Augustine’s footprints, and those footprints, Augustine’s vestigia, themselves impacted the culture and society of the later Middle Ages. It is both the footsteps themselves and those who considered themselves to be walking in them that comprised various Augustinian traditions. Using the terms reception, influence, impact, footsteps, and traditions to describe a more “holistic” understanding of Augustine’s heritage we can, it is hoped, avoid the pitfalls of the narrowly described and variously understood adjective “Augustinian” and its substantive counterpart and thereby come to a more historical understanding of the complexity, variety, and significance of Augustine’s role in the later Middle Ages, and beyond.53 3

Causation and Periodization

By linking together Augustine’s reception, influence, and impact with other such created terms as the later Middle Ages, Renaissance, and Reformation, and consequently early modern Europe as well, we are confronted with additional problems inherent in the signification of the terms used to describe the

52 53

Saak, “The Augustinian Renaissance: Textual Scholarship and Religious Identity in the Later Middle Ages,” oghra 1: 58–​68. Saak, “Augustinianism” in oghra 2:596–​599.

Introduction

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phenomena we observe. There is, though, more than issues of creating the past and the signification involved, namely, that of causation and periodization. While it is indeed interesting to know, at least to me, what works of Augustine a particular late medieval theologian knew, and how he cited them, and for what purposes, and from what source, namely, directly from a manuscript or via an intermediary source, such analysis, far more difficult to determine than it might seem, only takes us so far towards answering the question we are really interested in: what impact did Augustine and the late medieval Augustinians have in the later Middle Ages and on the historical developments we as scholars have labeled the Renaissance and the Reformation, which somehow had something to do with the emergence of “modernity,” yet another historiographical term that is plagued with pitfalls and problems? “Modernity” is a construct, and the same applies therefore to “early modernity” or Early Modern Europe. Historians have noted a change, a gradual shift, whereby Europe in 1600 was certainly different from Europe in 1300. Yet how we got from point A to point B is more problematic. If we could somehow identify the origins, or causes, of the change, we could then begin to identify what makes history itself change and have a better understanding of our own changing world. Or perhaps, we could identify the factors involved in the change in order to place blame or to glorify and praise. If we could identify the agents of change, we would then have power over them, to prevent undesired change, or to promote change that would lead to outcomes we think we want. Yet history does not really work that way. It is not a chemical formula, whereby we can isolate the agent that serves as the catalyst for the reaction, even if that has been how so much history has been pursued and written. Aristotle argued that something cannot truly be known until we know its causes, and such Aristotelian thinking has led historians to focus on causation, with the illusory assumption that if we can identify the causes, we can understand the reactions and outcomes; with such knowledge comes control and power. It is flawed thinking, and a flawed approach. History is not a science of explanation based on causation. History is an art, an insight, that leads, or can, to further insight and understanding. History as the identification of causes, however, seems to have been the approach to many if not most attempts to identify the influence or impact of Augustine on Martin Luther, and thus on the origins of the Reformation, which again, consequently, implies the origins of modernity. The historiography of late medieval Augustinianism has been focused inordinately on the relationship between Augustine and consequently a late medieval Augustinianism on the development and emergence of Luther’s Reformation theology. Yet as I have argued repeatedly, this warps our understanding of both the late medieval

18 Introduction Augustinian traditions, and Luther’s early theological development. Moreover, as I have recently argued, the primary catalytic influence on Luther’s “discovery” of passive righteousness was not his Augustinianism, as developed by his own reading of Augustine or as having been communicated to him through his Order, but his Aristotelianism, and his discovery of passive righteousness had little to do with his “Reformation breakthrough.”54 The entire question needs to be reframed. Rather than seeking the answer to the question of whether Luther was influenced by Augustine directly, or mediated through his Order, we should ask how did Augustine and Augustinian theology impact Luther, and what was Augustinian theology to begin with? With respect to the origins of modernity, the same can be asked of Petrarch and Renaissance humanism. The issue of causation in the case of Petrarch and humanism has not been as prevalent in the scholarship as it has been with the issue of Luther. Though Augustine has been seen to have had a significant impact on Petrarch, his role in humanism has been less direct. Yet humanism has been seen as a causal factor in the origins of modernity, and thus we face again the fallacy of seeking causes for historical understanding. What was Augustine’s causal role on Petrarch that then led to Petrarch serving as a cause of Humanism, which then served as a cause of modernity? What was the cause of Augustine on Luther, who then led to Luther serving as a cause of Reformation, which then served as a cause of modernity? Yet such a chain of causation would then too have to include the relationship between Augustine and Augustinianism in order to come up with a definition of “Augustinianism” that would then allow the chain to be considered as follows: Augustinianism → Petrarch → Humanism → modernity/​early modernity; or with Luther: Augustinianism → Luther → Reformation → modernity/​early modernity. Scholars, however, debate how Augustine himself should be interpreted, which then further complicates attempts to define Augustinianism. Augustinianism is not a clearly defined term, resulting in scholarly debate using various definitions.55 It is, moreover, not a historical term.56 With the lack of precise definition, it is difficult, if not indeed impossible, to establish causation when scholars cannot really even agree on what it is that might or might not be causing something else that is not exactly clear either. Even as a causa sine qua non, there are significant problems with seeking causation in history because there is no way to isolate the cause and “re-​run” the sequence in order to be able to determine that x would still have happened even if a specific cause 54 Saak, Luther and the Reformation of the Later Middle Ages, 99–​153. 55 See Saak, Creating Augustine. 56 Saak, “Augustinianism,” in oghra 2:596–​599.

Introduction

19

had not been a factor. Would there have been a Reformation without Martin Luther? Would Luther have posted his theses and gone on to attack Rome and break from the Roman Church if he had not been an Augustinian Hermit or had not read Augustine? Would he have attacked Rome and broken from the Roman Church had he rather read Augustine more intensively and had read the works of the outstanding theologians of his own Order? Such questions are important to pose, but they cannot be answered historically because there is no evidence and there is no laboratory in which we could isolate one factor, remove it, and then see what the effects would have been. For natural phenomena, causation can work very well indeed. For human phenomena causation is a chimera. Why am I writing this book? Even I cannot give a full, satisfactory explanation of the reasons, or causes. There could be obvious, superficial causes, such as my desire to say what I have to say publicly, my desire and need to publish for my academic career, etc. But there are also more important and deeper causes, such as my personal attachment and devotion to Augustine and the oesa. But what then is the cause of that? When dealing with human phenomena, all causation leads to a reductio ad absurdum, which is only absurd because it gets at the complexity of the human being which cannot be reduced to clearly defined and identified causal factors. Just as it would be impossible for me sufficiently to explain based on causation why I am writing this book, not to mention the increased complexity and difficulty for anyone else attempting to do so (even as someone else could very well identify causes of which I am unaware), it is impossible for any historian, or any scholar, to identify the causes to explain any particular human act, not to mention a complex “event.” The age-​old debate of history as explanation or as understanding needs to be re-​examined in our attempts to say anything at all about the past. Are we attempting to explain what “happened”? If so, on what bases? Or are we trying to understand what happened, which is a more fluid, artful approach? Understanding seeks not the causes, but the catalysts and the catalytic conditions in attempting to communicate an insight, far more equated with impressionist portraiture than with still-​life. A historian’s analysis and representation should become subject to increasing scholarly skepticism in direct correlation to the historian’s “cognitive style” being one of explanation and causation,57 rather than understanding, insight, and impression.

57

For “cognitive style,” see Michael Baxandall, Painting and Experience in Fifteenth Century Italy. A Primer in the Social History of Pictorial Style (Oxford, 1972; second edition, 1988), 39–​40.

20 Introduction Most often, consciously or not, an a priori lies behind a historian’s representation of causation. Theologically, for example, one could say that God caused both the Renaissance and the Reformation, and that then would explain the development of how human culture and society evolved from c. 1300-​c. 1600. Such could be disputed and questioned, but that then would be a theological debate about God as primary cause and God’s existence to begin with. Yet even if we could agree upon (recognizing the fallacy of such an assumption) positing God as first cause, for the sake of argument, it would only be the most fervent defender of divine causation who would not then have to deal with the issue of secondary causes, and then we are right back to the complexity of identifying for human phenomena sufficient causation to explain much of anything aside from our own a priori beliefs in reducing the complexity to a manageable simplicity that we can understand, accept, and agree with for our own ideological purposes, consciously or not. The Reformation in general, and Luther in particular, have been subject to such confessional approaches from the contemporary events themselves to the present day, even if somewhat secularized and sublimated. In terms of causation, we all have some notion of a first or primary cause, theological, philosophical, sociological, economic, or otherwise, even if we would not openly admit it. Yet the point of doing history, or at least one of the points, at least in my view, is to have the courage to allow the past to question us, and to challenge our own a priori beliefs, assumptions, and perspectives. Interpretations of Renaissance Humanism have likewise been conditioned by historians who write history in their own images. Terms such as “Humanism,” “The Reformation,” “The Renaissance,” Augustinianism,” to name only a few, have been “ensouled” with a life of their own and have been transformed from descriptive terms into substantive “things.” At times scholars have challenged the concepts the terms signify, or have been taken to signify in their metaphysical status, but the “things” have remained, and have become institutionalized in our periodizations. In many if not most American universities there are courses in “The Renaissance” and “The Reformation” and then instructors are left with having to deal with the problems of the content that can be subsumed by the title. Periodization is not a given, but all suggestions for alternative categories or chronological demarcations have not yet taken hold. Resistance is substantial, and understandable. If we changed the periodization and labels, what would happen to the textbook industry, to the education programs and industry that require standard periodization, to the teaching of students from elementary schools through university? The forces that be stand firmly against any and all attempts to challenge the ideological structures of the status quo. When, for example, did the “Later Middle Ages” begin and when did they end?

Introduction

21

When did “The Renaissance” begin? When did “The Reformation” begin? I have recently argued for the term “The Reformation of the Later Middle Ages,” and while I am convinced I have a scholarly point, I do not expect textbooks and courses to change. A purely chronological periodization could help a great deal, yet somehow I can understand that seventh and eighth graders, no less than college Freshmen and Sophomores, would not find it all that exciting having a section, or a course, on “Europe 1300–​1650,” that would come after a course “Europe 814–​1300,” or something similar, even when the chronological divisions could themselves be debated: should we, for example, have a course “Europe 1378–​1530”? There are certainly extremely good reasons for “cutting” it that way, but then other chronological markers could be argued as perhaps equally compelling. Chronologically, one could most legitimately claim (as I do) that Europe 1300–​1530 would include both “The Renaissance” and at least the beginnings of “The Reformation,” or in other words, that both the Renaissance and the Reformation were late medieval phenomena. It is the medieval philosophical problem of the continuum that we still have not solved adequately, being able to determine when something ends (desinit) and when something new begins (incipit). Or perhaps it all just goes back to Augustine’s own confession that he knew what time was until someone asked. No one questions that Europe was different in 1650, or even in 1550, than it was in 1300, but the question is how was it so and what effected the transition? But here we have slipped back into the problem, that is the fallacy, of causation. How then can we understand the differences between Europe c. 1300 and Europe c. 1550? How do we understand, and represent, historical change? And can we ever completely, or even adequately, represent any given moment in time? What was Europe like in 1472? There have been attempts to write the history of a single year, and they have been impressive achievements.58 But even there the presentation is based on a given perspective, a given impression from a given vantage point, one that cannot be reduced to causation. Microhistory is essential, but it is no less “real” than histoire de longe durée. Both approaches offer essential perspective and insight on the canvas that is our impression of “the past,” that itself does not exist except as we represent it in the present. The inherent ambiguity of language requires it seems historians, and theologians, to use signs that signify non-​existent “things,” rendering History as myth and creation. History is impression and interpretation, but it is not fiction. The sources are there to ever remind us, screaming out whispers of the voices of the dead, for whom we are their only spokespersons, their only voice, 58

E.g. John Wills, 1688: A Global History (New York, 2002).

22 Introduction lest they be rendered mute once and for all and for all eternity. We as historians are the persona through whom the past can still speak, the masks, the fiction of the drama re-​presented on the stage of scholarship. Too often we do not take our own responsibility seriously enough. Too often we use the dead to support our own whims and desires, our own egos, as we write ever so eruditely, or not, about the causes of the past and how we came to be, or about how our beliefs and assumptions have been right all along. The responsibility of the historian is, or should be, overwhelmingly terrifying, yet far too infrequently has that terror been the guiding principle in the pursuit of “doing history,” in the endeavor to explain the “past” in our teleological hubris of our self-​justifications. We have victimized human beings long since dead who lived and wrote and left traces that we in our omnipotence have subsumed under the terms “Renaissance” and “Reformation” which we use to bludgeon our academic adversaries in our own assertion of our scholarly prowess that is rarely as erudite as we try to portray. A new approach is needed. A new approach is required, one based on a humilitas coram defunctibus, in light of those who have come before. Seeking causation, even unaware, does violence to the past, and does violence to our own understanding. Rather, we should seek the catalytics of the past, that which made historical change possible, and for the Renaissance and Reformation, late medieval Augustinianism as the Augustinian theology of the later Middle Ages was an agent of change. The historian, or the theologian, who approaches the issues of the later Middle Ages, the Renaissance and the Reformation, and the role of Augustinian theology therein is confronted with a daunting task that is only made more complex by the plethora of inherited conceptual problems that were the creations of scholars past. In order to begin to be able to analyze the influence, impact, or catalytic role of a late medieval Augustinianism on or in the onset of the Renaissance and/​or Reformation, and thus on the onset of early modern Europe, we must first have a clear understanding of what that Augustinianism was. Yet then we run up against the problems that have obscured such an endeavor, the problems of periodization, separating the Middle Ages, or the later Middle Ages, from the beginnings of modernity in the Renaissance and Reformation; the problems of terminology or nomenclature in how we describe what it is we observe; the problems of the relationship between historical interpretation and theological interpretation; and the problems of how we can say anything at all about the past, about individual human beings long since dead and gone. If late medieval Augustinianism, in all its various definitions, has been the creation of modern scholars, so too has history in general, as Walter Prevenier and Martha Howell have argued in their excellent textbook

Introduction

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on the discipline of history, From Reliable Sources.59 While we remain slaves to language since, as Sweeney put it, “I gotta use words when I talk to you,”60 and to this extent are inescapably creators as we are interpreters, we can nevertheless attempt to breakthrough, even if not breakdown, the conceptual barriers we face imposed on us by our forebearers. The disciplinary barriers between theology and history, between systematic and pastoral or practical theology, between social, political, religious, cultural, and intellectual history, between scholars of the institutionalized concepts of the Middle Ages, Renaissance, and Reformation, have made attempts to understand the Augustinian theology of the fourteenth through sixteenth century all the more difficult. I can make no claim to have found a way to have broken through the barriers and boundaries, though I have tried. Perhaps that attempt, with the recognition of the barriers themselves, is at least a place to start to create a new understanding of the Augustinian theology of the later Middle Ages. That, in any case, is what I have attempted here, the first part of a two-​part project, with the second part then turning to Augustinianism in the Reformation, which will necessitate as well a new understanding and definition of the term itself, for the Augustinianism of the Reformation had, as I will argue, little to nothing to do with the Augustinian theology of the later Middle Ages. That though is the argument of a future book. 4

Definitions

We need to return to basics. We need to remember that what we are analyzing and interpreting are texts that in and of themselves have no meaning until we given them meaning in our readings and interpretations, striving to come to an understanding. We then use ahistorical terms to describe those understandings. Some of the terms we use, however, are historical, in that they were terms we find used in the texts we study, such as Zumkeller’s schola nostra, the religio Augustini, and the Ordo eremitarum Sancti Augustini for that matter. Proper names, such as Augustinus, are likewise found in the objects of our analyses,

59

60

“… historians always create a past by writing it. History is not just there, awaiting the researcher’s discovery. Unlike a forgotten poem, the ruins of a cathedral, or a lost law code that might be uncovered, history has no existence before it is written.” Martha Howell and Walter Previenier, From Reliable Sources. An Introduction to Historical Methods (Ithaca, NY, 2001), 1. T.S. Eliot, “Sweeney Agonistes” (1932); cf.T.S. Eliot, “East Coker,” (1940) from “The Four Quartets.”

24 Introduction signifying what were once living, breathing, feeling, thinking human beings who are long since dead and gone. But then we construct descriptions of what we have analyzed and to communicate our interpretations we use words that are not strictly found in our sources, even if perhaps derived therefrom, such as the adjective “Augustinian,” as well as words that are completely ahistorical to the extent that they are not words used in the sources we study, such as “Augustinianism.” Such abstraction is to an extent unavoidable, being the slaves to language that we are. Yet problems come in when we begin to take those abstractions as “things” themselves and then argue over the “things” rather than what it is they were originally supposed to describe. The same is true for such abstractions as the “Middle Ages,,” the “Renaissance,” and the “Reformation,” not to mention “modernity.” While we cannot eliminate the use of such terms to describe our analyses and interpretations, we can at least strive to limit the potential confusion 1.) by keeping the focus on the terms we use as descriptive, rather than as entities in and of themselves; and 2.) by striving to be clear with how we ourselves are using such terms. Thus some basic definitions are called for with respect at least to some of the basic terms used in the following study. 1. Augustine. I will use the term “Augustine” to refer to a.) the Bishop of Hippo who died in 430 ce; b.) the created Augustine of later authors which may or may not have a direct relation to the “historical Augustine,” i.e., the Bishop of Hippo, as well as medieval interpretations of the “historical Augustine”; and c.) the author of works ascribed to him that were considered authentic whether or not scholars today consider them authentic. 2. Augustinian. I will use the term “Augustinian” as an adjective for a.) texts; b.) groups; or c.) teachings that were considered at the time to have been derived from Augustine or that I consider to have been derived from Augustine based on my own interpretation of Augustine, that is, based on my own interpretation of texts that are ascribed to Augustine. 3. The Reception of Augustine. I will use the “reception of Augustine” to refer to a.) what texts ascribed to Augustine a medieval author knew, the source of that knowledge, how he cited them, and how he used them; and b.) the interpretation of the “historical Augustine” of medieval authors based on their knowledge and use of texts ascribed to the “historical Augustine.” “Influence” and “impact” are then terms of interpretation used to describe particular types of reception, as discussed above.

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4. The Appropriation of Augustine. I will use the “appropriation of Augustine” to refer to particular individuals and/​or groups who sought to make Augustine their own and identified with him as forming the central component of their identity. Thus the appropriation of Augustine is a distinct form of the reception of Augustine. 5. Augustinianism. I will use “Augustinianism” as a.) a general descriptive term to include the reception and appropriation of Augustine, but not as including the “Augustinian” as in definition 2 above; and b.) a specific term signifying a late medieval referent based on the definition of the “Augustinian” as defined above. These definitions form the foundation of the analysis in the study below, though there is one additional term that needs separate treatment, namely, “late medieval Augustinianism.” In my Creating Augustine I defined “late medieval Augustinianism” as “a historical noun that refers to the late medieval experience of Augustine as revealed in the psychic and social systems of the oesa that formed the textual matrices that produced the texts of the tradition, revealing the re-​embodiment of Augustine in the religio Augustini.”61 Damasus Trapp had made the distinction between “having an Augustine” and “having an Augustinianism.”62 This is, in the terms I am using, the distinction between the reception of Augustine and the appropriation of Augustine. Yet, at least theoretically speaking, not all appropriation of Augustine in the later Middle Ages was late medieval Augustinianism. To arrive at a definition for the historical noun with a historical referent in the later Middle Ages we have to go further. In addition to reception and appropriation, we need to recognize a late medieval ideology that was legitimately described as Augustinian that can be distinguished from appropriation. By “ideology” however I do not mean the skewed knowledge of Marxian illusion, but rather, in the words of Michael Freeden, “the meeting point between meaning and form,”63 or in those of Hayden White: … as a process by which different kinds of meaning are produced and reproduced by the establishment of a mental set towards the world in which certain sign systems are privileged as necessary, even natural, ways 61 Saak, Creating Augustine, 225. 62 Trapp, “Harvest of Medieval Theology [Notes on Heiko A. Oberman’s book, The Harvest of Medieval Theology],” Augustinianum 5 (1965): 147–​151; 150. 63 Michael Freeden, Ideologies and Political Theory. A Conceptual Approach (Oxford, 1995), 54.

26 Introduction of recognizing a “meaning” in things and others are suppressed, ignored or hidden in the very process of representing a world to consciousness.64 In this light, the term “ideology” as I am using it here traces its origins back to Augustine himself and his theory of signs and signification as explicated in his De doctrina Christiana. As Robert Markus put it, Augustine’s theory is that “a particular human group is defined by the boundaries of the system of signs in use among its members,”65 which goes beyond what Mannheim called “styles of thought” or Michael Baxandall “cognitive style.”66 Ideology thus is more than, though it includes, ideas, ideals, world-​views, or mentalities, forming, according to White, “the central problem of intellectual history because intellectual history has to do with meaning, its production, distribution, and consumption, so to speak, in different historical epochs.”67 Consequently, reception, all reception, is inherently ideological for an author’s works or doctrines are received in a given system of signs that form a mental set towards the world in the meeting point between meaning and form. In charting the reception of Augustine, it is, therefore, insufficient simply to trace citations to Augustine’s works in a given author and claim that such citation counting is equivalent to reception. The use of Augustine’s texts is only one component of Augustine’s appropriation, and the ideology behind the use conditions the appropriation, even as the reception and appropriation contribute reciprocally to the ideology itself, the bringing of meaning into form, either to strengthen the ideology, or, in some cases, to undermine it. In other words, ideology is the textual condition of a particular social group,68 and in this particular case, the Augustinian ideology in the later Middle Ages was the textual condition of the oesa which provided the pre-​text, the pre-​understanding of the Order’s textual production revealed in and by that production itself as the texts produced by the Augustinians reciprocally contributed to the 64

Hayden White, The Content of the Form. Narrative Discourse and Historical Representation (Baltimore, 1988), 192. 65 R.A. Markus, Saeculum. History and Society in the Theology of St. Augustine (Cambridge, 1970); idem, “Sign, Communication, and Communities in Augustine’s De Doctrina Christiana,” in De Doctrina Christiana. A Classic of Western Culture, ed. W. Duane and Pamela Bright (Notre Dame, 1995), 97–​108. 66 See Saak, Highway to Heaven,709, n. 123. 67 White, The Content of the Form, 190. For the development of the term “ideology” and a number of its varies uses since the time of Destutt de Tracy in the eighteenth century, see Terry Eagleton, Ideology. An Introduction (New York, 1991); idem, Ideologies (New York, 1994). 68 For “textual condition,” see Jerome McGann, The Textual Condition (Princeton, 1991).

Introduction

27

evolution of that ideology within the autopoietic social system of the oesa that was open to its environment, affecting its environment even as it was affected by it.69 When the Order’s reception and appropriation of Augustine fused with the Order’s political Augustinianism and religious identity, we find the fully developed form of the Augustinian ideology that provides uniquely the historical referent for the historical noun “late medieval Augustinianism.” “Late medieval Augustinianism” thus is equated with the Augustinian ideology in the later Middle Ages as a specific, identifiable, historical form of the more general late medieval reception and appropriation of Augustine. This then is how I will use the term “late medieval Augustinianism” below, with the exception of when I discuss previous scholars’ uses of the term based on other definitions. A final definition needs to be addressed, namely, that of “Augustinian theology.” In some ways the entire study below is designed to present an argument for the definition of this term, so a definition here would be premature. However, that would be transforming a descriptive term into a substantive, a “thing” that did not exist in and of itself, whereby the point of the work would be to offer a definition of the term as perhaps distinct from other definitions, rather than having the term describe the analysis. The latter approach would then use “Augustinian theology” to describe the phenomena that will be discussed below, retaining the descriptive nature. The point is not to define “Augustinian theology” as a thing in itself, but to strive for clarity in my attempt to describe the perceived phenomena signified in and by the extant texts. As I use the term here, “Augustinian theology” in the later Middle Ages is equated with the late medieval Augustinian ideology and consequently with late medieval Augustinianism, whereby “theology” is taken as a broad term that is not restricted to abstracted academic or scholarly theological positions. The late medieval Augustinian theologians, that is, members of the oesa who taught in the Order’s university and non-​university studia, beginning with Giles of Rome, defined theology as “affective knowledge” (scientia affectiva), a theology of the heart rather than of the mind, though one that included both speculative aspects (scientia speculativa) and practical (scientia practica).70 This definition was derived from their interpretation of Augustine himself, who saw the love of God as the defining theological end.71 The love of God, based on Augustine, or the created image of Augustine, as the “father, teacher, leader, and head” 69 70 71

See Niklas Luhmann, Soziologische Aufklärung, 4 vols. (Opladen, 1970–​1987); idem, Soziale Systeme. Grundriss einer allgemeinen Theorie (Frankfurt, 1984). See Saak, High Way to Heaven, 364–​366; see also vol. ii, Chapter 9. Isabelle Bochet, Saint Augustin et Le Desir de Dieu (Paris, 1982).

28 Introduction of his true sons,72 included academic theological study as well as the Order’s pastoral endeavor. “Augustinian theology” in this light signified the theology of the Augustinian Hermits, who appropriated Augustine uniquely in the creation of a distinct Augustinian ideology. In this light, “Augustinian theology” was uniquely the theology of the Augustinian Hermits, which is not to say that the theology of the oesa was the only late medieval theology that could legitimately be described as “Augustinian.” The theology of Thomas Bradwardine, for example, was certainly Augustinian,73 but it would be confusing the signification of the term to call it Augustinian Theology. In this light, “Augustinian Theology” for this study more accurately is “The theology of the Augustinian theologians who considered themselves to be Augustinians as following in the footsteps of Augustine,” whereby the adjective assumes within itself the possessive as a conjunctive rather than elevating the adjective to a substantive. While one could refer to the Augustinian theology of Thomas Bradwardine, or the Augustinian theology of the late medieval Augustinian Hermits, the problem there would be that in this case “Augustinian theology” would be a “thing” existing independently from Bradwardine or the Augustinian Hermits. Or perhaps more simply stated, in the study below I use the term “Augustinian theology” with “Augustinian” taken in the b. definition above, not the a. or c. definition; and with “theology” taken in the sense of an embodied theological endeavor based on an affective theology focused on the love of God in both its speculative and practical aspects. 5

Scholasticism, Scholastic Literature, and the Augustinians

In 1522, Lucas Antonius de Giunta printed in Venice an edition of Gregory of Rimini’s Sentences commentary.74 Before the title page there is a woodcut, depicting a hierarchy of theologians and philosophers. At the top is Plato. There are then two descending columns of scholars. On Plato’s left (on the reader’s right) we find first Aristotle, then Theophrastus, Algazali, Themistius, and then the last scholar on the bottom is Averroes. On Plato’s right (or the reader’s left) we find first Gregory of Rimini, followed by Albert the Great, Thomas Aquinas, Giles of Rome, and then Duns Scotus. Not present is Augustine, or any Church Father. With the pagans on Plato’s left and the Christian, scholastic 72 Saak, High Way to Heaven, 160ff. 73 See Heiko Oberman, Archbishop Thomas Bradwardine. A Fourteenth-​Century Augustinian (Utrecht, 1958). 74 Gregorius Ariminensis, Lectura super Primum et Secundum Sententiarum (Venice, 1522).

Introduction

29

theologians on the right, the image places Gregory within the broader intellectual tradition, with both sides stemming from Plato, giving Gregory equal place with Aristotle. If Gregory could in some way be seen as a descendent of Plato, he was so by means of Augustine. As Paul de Genazano wrote in his dedicatory preface of the Venice 1503 edition to Giles of Viterbo, the General of the oesa, though Gregory was an Aristotelian (peripatheticus), he would have been welcomed with open arms by the Platonists, including by Giles himself,75 a “Platonist” and had himself railed against Aristotle.76 Gregory’s Sentences commentary had first been published in 1482 in Paris by Ludovicus Martineau, and then was published again in Valencia in 1500, in Venice in 1503, in Venice in 1518, in Paris in 1520, with a third printing in Venice in 1522 by Octavianus Scotus Modoetiensis, and the last printing was again in Venice by Octavianus in 1532.77 The 1522 Venetian Giunta edition is the only edition to have such a woodcut. Perhaps it was simply trying to portray Gregory as a theologian for all, thereby potentially expanding its market. While no modern scholar would agree with the intellectual grouping as presented in the woodcut, aside perhaps for the prominence given to Gregory, it provides evidence that our categorization of the late medieval intellectual tradition is a modern construct, one we should question rather than take as a given, and cannot simply assert a unified tradition of high and late medieval “scholasticism.” “Scholasticism” as a term has had a contested history. Does scholasticism refer to the grand synthesis of classical and Christian culture and thought, the harmonizing of faith and reason, culminating in the works of St. Thomas Aquinas? Or was scholasticism a method, the use of the questio as a means of exploring a given topic? As a term and/​or a concept, “scholasticism” has been about as illuminating and as obfuscating as has been “Augustinianism”; it is a modern construct removed from historical phenomena, using selected historical phenomena to define the term on the basis of philosophical or theological positions of modern interpreters. Yet to discuss “scholastic theology,” even only of the Augustinians, we need to have some understanding of how the adjective is to be used, as well as its derived substantive. The point here is not to come to a final definition of “scholasticism” as such. For present purposes, “scholasticism” and “scholastic,” as 75

“… qui tametsi peripatheticus est, platonico tamen tibi et platonicorum maximo non poterit, ut arbitror, non esse gratissimus.” Paulus de Genazzano, ep. ded., in Gregorii Ariminensis, OESA Lectura super Primum et Secundum Sententiarum, ed. A. Damasus Trapp et al, Sur 6, vol. 1 (Berlin, 1981), lxi (hereafter cited as: Greg., Sent.). 76 Saak, Luther and the Reformation of the Later Middle Ages, 199–​200. 77 Greg. Sent., vol. 1, lvi-​l xxiv.

30 Introduction used here, refer to the philosophical and theological production of the university magistri while at the university. In this light, “scholasticism” cannot even be identified with the “schools,” since all the mendicant orders had schools, or studia, not associated with the universities. Moreover, scholars such as Henry of Friemar and Hermann of Schildesche spent the majority of their careers in these non-​university studia. It would not be all that helpful then to refer to them as scholastics while they were at Paris and then as spiritual or mystical writers after they left. Jordan of Quedlinburg received a scholastic education at Paris, but never progressed to a university degree. It is not as if Henry and Hermann, or Jordan for that matter, ceased being scholastics after they left Paris, even as they continued teaching in their Order’s schools. Yet Henry and Hermann, after they left Paris, produced other genres of works than they had with their Questiones and Sentences commentaries at Paris. Questiones and Sentences commentaries, however, did not comprise the totality of the textual production of scholars at Paris. Henry’s first works, completed while he was preparing to incept as magister, were sermons, and preaching was a standard required exercise of the university masters.78 “Scholastic” biblical commentaries too were undertaken by university scholars, such as Thomas’ Catena Aurea, as well as his Commentary on Matthew. If “scholasticism” is taken as the theological production of university magistri, it cannot be restricted to Questiones and Sentences commentaries, with the inclusion perhaps of commentaries on Aristotle. Biblical commentaries and sermons were likewise scholastic products, even if they have rarely been included in treatments of “scholastic theology,” and remain the most understudied genre of late medieval theological literature. Yet if we accept “scholasticism” as a method based on the questio, we also run into problems of categorization since biblical commentaries produced outside of Paris or Oxford likewise at times used the questio as a method of commentary, and we also find at times questiones employed as parts of sermons. Moreover, there were instances of academic disputations held between religious orders, rather like a sporting event between friendly rivals, with the questio as the basis for the disputation.79 In other words, the questio itself and its method cannot as such define “scholasticism” unless we adopt an understanding of scholasticism far broader than previously to include all literature that used the questio in one form or another. 78

David D’Avray, The Preaching of the Friars. Sermons Diffused from Paris Before 1300 (Oxford, 1985); J. Hamesse, Beverly Mayne Kinzle, Debra L Stoudt, and Anne T. Thayer, eds., Medieval Sermons and Society: Cloister, City, University (Turnhout, 1998). 79 Saak, High Way to Heaven,303–​304.

Introduction

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Another debate as to how to describe late medieval theology running parallel to an extent with the debates over scholasticism has been whether late medieval theology is best described as a theology of Orders or a theology of universities.80 If late medieval theology is to be characterized as a theology of Orders, what then are we to do with the substantial contributions of secular masters, such as Henry of Ghent or Jean Gerson? In short, a theology of Orders may describe an aspect of late medieval theology but it cannot describe late medieval theology as such, nor scholasticism. On the other hand, if late medieval theology is best characterized as a theology of universities, then we have differing types of theology being done in Paris and in Oxford. In many ways, this has become a given, even with the significant overlaps. Moreover, as indicated above, a theology of universities only describes one part of late medieval theology, and does not tell us as such much about what was or was not scholastic theology. It seems, then, that we are left with the option that “scholasticism” was the harmonization of faith and reason based on the synthesis of the classical and Christian traditions. While such a supposed synthesis might be applicable for describing the achievement of Thomas, would we then be forced to say that “scholastics” before Thomas were “less scholastic” than Thomas, or simply at lower levels on the developmental trajectory? And would we then have to revert to the position that the late medieval theologians who disagreed with Thomas were less “scholastic” than Thomas or simply on the trajectory towards the disintegration or dissolution of scholasticism? Such a definition is thus not based on historical description, but on the theological position of the interpreter and Thomas as the epitome of medieval theology is a theological determination, not a historical one.81 If Thomas were to be the definition of what was or was not sufficiently “scholastic,” placing other scholars either on the curve leading to Thomas or on the downward spiral leading away from Thomas, including Bishop Tempier and the Condemnations of 1277, we could simply make reference to Thomas and “Thomism” without having any need at all to appeal to “scholasticism” as a descriptive term, since “scholasticism” would then be identical with “Thomism,” which is uniquely insufficient to describe and/​or categorize the medieval theological or philosophical achievement as such.

80 81

See Saak, High Way to Heaven, 692–​693. Thus the controversial nature of Oberman’s Harvest of Medieval Theology, seeing the high point coming in Gabriel Biel, as opposed to Thomas, in arguing against the “decline” thesis of medieval thought after Thomas; Heiko A. Oberman, The Harvest of Medieval Theology. Gabriel Biel and Late Medieval Nominalism (Cambridge, MA, 1963).

32 Introduction If, therefore, we are in search of the historical referent for the term “scholasticism” and consequently for the term “scholastic theology,” it cannot be found in the identification of scholasticism with Thomism and thus not in the definition of scholasticism as the grand “medieval synthesis” of faith and reason and/​ or of the classical and Christian traditions.82 Nor can it be identified as such with the questio, even if the questio had something to do with “scholasticism” however it might be defined. Nor, however, can it be as such associated with the theology of the Orders, nor with that of the universities. In short, finding an adequate historical referent for “scholasticism” appears increasingly difficult. There were, nevertheless, theological genera that were specific to the universities. While questiones as such were not university specific, quodlibetic disputations and Ordinary questions were; we do not find Quodlibets or Ordinary questions outside the university, even as we do, at least on occasion, find the use of the questio and academic disputation. Sermons and biblical commentaries likewise can be found both within and without the university context, but particularly Sentences commentaries were university products, even though the Sentences and the Bible were lectured on in the non-​university mendicant studia. The studia of the mendicants were schools after all and thus those teachers in those schools were technically “schoolmen,” even if not all of them had received university degrees. Many of them, however, had. In this light, defining scholasticism as based on Sentences commentaries, Quodlibets and Ordinary questions seems to be too narrow of a definition, even as those genres were uniquely products of the university. And if we were to define “scholasticism” and “scholastic theology” based on those genres alone, we would be ignoring a large portion of university scholars’ theological production. The terms “scholasticism” and “scholastic theology” do not suffice to describe the theology of the later Middle Ages. Thus, the parts of the study that follows that focus on the Augustinian university masters cannot as such be characterized as “scholasticism,” or the “scholastic work” of the Augustinians, since Augustinian scholastic masters also taught in the non-​university studia. Yet to repeat a point I made above, the point here is not to define scholasticism, or scholastic theology, and then fit the theological production of the Augustinians into that pigeon hole. The Sentences commentaries and Questiones of the Augustinian magistri were part of the university program and designed for a university audience, even as they were still grounded in the teaching in the Order’s studium affiliated with

82

Leaving aside here the question of the extent to which such a grand synthesis is even found in Thomas’ works themselves.

Introduction

33

the university. The theological production of the Order’s university theologians was part of the university program, even while based in the Augustinian studium at Paris, but with the larger university community in mind, and in conversation, discussion, and debate therewith. We don’t find such works outside the context of the university, which thus forms a unique university theological genre, regardless of whether we describe it as “scholastic” or not. Yet even in this context, scholars have returned to a “theology of orders” approach in identifying Dominican and Franciscan traditions to describe the theology of the later thirteenth century and on into the later middle ages as such.83 What is missing is a distinct Augustinian theological tradition, not to mention a “secular” theological tradition, that cannot be subsumed within an abstracted Dominican or Franciscan tradition, even as it might to varying degrees have overlapped and/​or had similarities with one or the other. The Augustinians were major players at Paris, as we will see below. The question is therefore whether there was a specific Augustinian theological tradition, distinct from the Franciscan or Dominican, even if overlapping with one or the other, that is necessary to consider when trying to describe late medieval theology, and if so, how is that specific, distinctive Augustinian tradition to be described, characterized, and defined? 5.1 Lectures on the Sentences and the Augustinian Magistri As Russell Friedman put it, “the Sentences commentary is important at least because it represents a major—​sometimes the exclusive—​source for what theologians were thinking and writing.”84 This is particularly the case since “Sentences commentaries are very nearly the only works to have survived from the faculty of theology, as at Paris between 1318 and 1344.”85 Over the past thirty years there has been impressive work done on late medieval Sentences commentaries, including critical editions, all of which have broadened and deepened our understanding of the late medieval intellectual world beyond what was possible for scholars of previous generations.86 The focus has been 83

84 85 86

See Russell Friedman, “The Sentences Commentary, 1250–​1320. General Trends, The Impact of the Religious Orders, and the Test Case of Predestination,” in G.R. Evans, ed, Medieval Commentaries on the Sentences of Peter Lombard, vol. 1: Current Research (Leiden, 2001), 41–​128. Friedman, “Conclusion,” in Evans, Mediaeval Commentaries, 507–​527; 512; Chris Schabel, “Were there Sentences Commentaries?” in Pascale Bermon and Isabelle Moulin, eds., Commenter au Moyen Âge (Paris, 2018), 203–​221. Ibid. See Evans, Mediaeval Commentaries, vol. 1 and 2; therein see especially Steven J. Livesey, “Lombardus Electronicus: A Biographical Database of Medieval Commentators on Peter Lombard’s Sentences,” Evans, Mediaeval Commentaries, vol. 1, 1–​23; Friedman, “The

34 Introduction on identifying a scholar’s “mature” thought, since at times Sentences commentaries are extant in both their “original” state as lectures given at Paris, or Reportationes, as well as then in further and later magisterial revisions, or Ordinationes.87 As Friedman noted, “Towards the beginning of the university phase of the Sentences commentary, the Sentences were a youthful endeavor, often superseded by a theologian’s later, magisterial writings. But during the later thirteenth and early fourteenth centuries, the Sentences commentary became increasingly the preferred vehicle of theological expression.”88 Between 1276 and 1376, forty-​three Augustinians lectured on the Sentences at Paris. Of those forty-​three, forty incepted as masters. Of those forty masters, extant Sentences commentaries, at least in part, have remained from twenty-​ one.89 Of these twenty-​one, only a few have been studied in any depth, and none comprehensively. Characterizing late medieval Augustinian theology therefore based on Sentences commentaries is a field of research that is still in its beginning stages. In treating the Augustinian university theologians here I am by no means claiming to be comprehensive in any sense of the term. Rather, I hope to give an indication of the need for such work to be done, and some preliminary analyses for how the Augustinian university theology can best be understood, particularly with respect to what made the Augustinian university theology Augustinian. To do so, I will focus on five Augustinian theologians: Thomas of Strassburg, who read the Sentences at Paris during the year 1335 and 1337 and incepted as magister in 1337; Gregory of Rimini, who read

87 88 89

Sentences Commentary, 1250–​ 1320,” 41–​ 128; Chris Schabel, “Parisian Commentaries from Peter Auriol to Gregory of Rimini, and the Problem of Predestination,” Ibid., 221–​ 265; Monica Brînzei is currently leading a project in Paris, Studia Sententiarum, studying late medieval lectures on the Sentences and has on the Project’s website published transcriptions of the text of several late medieval theologians; see Collection Studia Sententiarum—​e rc-​t hesis Project (thesis-​project.ro). See Friedman, “Conclusion,” 515–​517. Friedman, “Conclusion,” 512. These calculations are drawn from Zumkeller, “Die Augustinerschule des Mittelalters: Vertreter und Philosophisch-​Theologische Lehre,”An.Aug. 27 (1964), 167–​262; 174–​175. I then correlated the dates given for the Sentences lectures and the inceptions with Zumkeller’s manuscript catalogue. Some such extant commentaries are only in part, such as that of Prosper of Regio, whose “commentary” consists of questions debated at Paris in the early fourteenth century, with forty-​six questions on the Prologue; see Vat. Lat. 1086; Saak, High Way to Heaven, 383. James of Viterbo’s Sentences commentary has been identified by Gianpiero Tavolaro as what was previously known as James’ Abbreviatio in 1 Sententiarum Aegidii Romani; see Tavolaro, “The So-​Called Abbreviatio in 1 Sententiarum Aegidii Romani of James of Viterbo: A New Hypothesis,” in Antoine Côte and Martin Pickavé, eds., A Companion to James of Viterbo, Appendix 2 (Leiden, 2018),376–​392.

Introduction

35

the Sentences at Paris in 1342–​1343 and incepted as magister in 1345; Alfonsus Vargas,who read the Sentences at Paris in 1344–​1345 and incepted as magister in 1347; Hugolino of Orvieto, who read the Sentences at Paris in 1348–​1349 and incepted as magister in 1352; and John of Basel, who read the Sentences at Paris in 1365–​1366 and incepted as magister in 1371.90 These, together with Giles of Rome, were the most influential Augustinian theologians based on extant manuscripts, printed editions, and citations. If “scholastic theology” is defined in a very narrow sense as that theology produced in the context of the universities based on Sentences commentaries, while recognizing the limited and exclusive nature of that definition, I hope to provide evidence and an argument for the need to recognize an identifiable Augustinian scholastic theology in the later Middle Ages, even as the narrow focus prevents us from seeing the broader context of the theological production and endeavor of the late medieval mendicants, and particularly in this case, the Augustinians. We should question the descriptive and analytical function of the terms “scholasticism” and “scholastic theology” and realize that many scholastic theologians, including all the Augustinians, were also theologians active in the Order’s non-​ university studia, which, for the Augustinians, led to their unique appropriation of their order’s founder. 5.2 The Appropriation of Augustine In 1490, an edition of Alfonsus Vargas’ lectures on the first book of the Sentences was published which Thomas of Spilembergo of Bergamo, oesa, edited and for which he wrote a dedicatory letter to Prior General Anselm of Montefalco, in which he asserted: “believe the Augustinian religion, printed here in this work by Alfonsus.”91 Eleven years previously, Brother Paul Lulmeus had edited and printed Augustinus of Ancona’s Summa de potestate ecclesiastica, dedicated and sent to the Prior General, Ambrosius de Cora, because Augustinus’ work was “a treasure chest filled with all doctrines” for “among all the other doctors of our Augustinian religion, Augustinus of Ancona shines above the rest, in that his teaching of the ancient doctors and of canon law encompasses the testimonies and decrees of the Church Councils to the greatest extent.”92 Augustine’s religion, the religio Augustini, included the works of the Order’s great scholastic doctors, rather than specific theological positions, and the religio Augustini 90 91

See Volume 2, Part iv. “… credite Augusti(nia)nae religioni in codice Alphonsi Ispalensis imprimendo.” Alfonsus Vargas, In Primum Sententiarum, ed. Thomas de Spilembergo, oesa (Venice, 1490); reprint Cassiciacum ii, 1952), fol. 1v. 92 Saak, High Way to Heaven, 585.

36 Introduction was of essential importance for the Church as such, because, as Ambrosius de Cora himself asserted, “the first brothers (fratres) to have preached the Gospel to the people were the brothers (fratres) of the hermits of St. Augustine.”93 They did so, moreover, in imitation of their leader, teacher, father, and head, Augustine himself, for whereas, Jordan of Quedlinburg asserted in his Opus Dan, or Sermones de sanctis, published for the first time in Strassburg in 1484, all other doctors of the Church could be compared to stars, only Augustine was worthy of comparison with the sun.94 Jordan’s estimation of Augustine was so great that he claimed: “… blessed Augustine can be called the city of God … just as whatever is necessary for life can be had in a city, so in blessed Augustine can be found whatever is necessary for salvation.”95 Jordan even went so far as to claim that Augustine’s teaching held such weight “that nothing in divine scriptures is secure that is not confirmed by his authority.”96 For Simon of Cremona, who had lectured on the Sentences in Paris in 1365–​1366, following the commentary of Hugolino of Orvieto,97 Augustine was the lux doctorum, a reference with which Simon began each of his sermons, and Simon’s contemporary, Augustinus Novella of Padua, hailed Augustine’s works as having surpassed all other writings on holy things, Christian or otherwise, with respect to 93 94

95 96 97

“Ubi nota, quod primi fratres, qui praedicaverunt evangelium populo, fuerunt fratres heremitarum Sancti Augustini.” Ambrosius de Cora, Chronicon (ed. Rome, 1481), 742. “… [Augustinus] ceteros ecclesie doctores tam ingenio quam scientia vicit incomparabiliter. Unde cum aliis doctores assimilentur stellis, ipse soli comparatur.” Jor. Opus Dan, sermo 59D (ed. Strassburg, 1484). This image Jordan quoted from the Legenda Aurea: “Unde alii doctores comparantur stellis … hic autem comparatur soli … omnes ecclesiae doctores tam ingenio quam scientia vincit incomparabiliter.” Th. Grassse, ed. Jacobi de Voragine Legenda Aurea, 124 (1890; reprint Osnabrück, 1969), 548, 60. Jordan did not, however, simply repeat previous praise. For Jordan, Augustine had renewed the apostolic life after the time of the apostles; Jor. vf 3,2 (326ff), and he displayed the same perfections as St. Paul: “Et he sex perfectiones accipiuntur penes sex que contigerunt circa apostolum Paulum cum esset in via versus Damascum, que etiam invenimus in beato Augustino. Prima perfectio est divine gratie preveniens illustratio. Secunda est suiipsis omnimodo deiectio. Tertia est divini nutus inspiratio. Quarta est voluntatis in deum totalis transformatio. Quinta est mentis in seipsa ascensio. Sexta est naturalium virium relictio.” Jor. Opus Dan, sermo 135A (ed. Strassburg, 1484). See also Chapter 8 below. Jordan devoted sermons 129–​151 of the 271 sermons of the Opus Dan to Augustine; in addition, sermons 59 and 185 are De translatione sancti Augustini. “… beatus Augustinus civitas dei dici potest … sicut reperitur in civitate quicquid est necessarium vite, sic in beato Augustino quicquid est necessarium saluti invenitur.” Jor. Opus Dan, sermo 130B (ed. Strassburg, 1484). “… magnus est in ecclesia autoritate doctrine. Tanta enim autoritas est eius doctrina ut nihil in divinis scripturis sit solidum quod non sit eius autoritate confirmatum.” Jor. Opus Dan, sermo 131A (ed. Strassburg, 1484). For Simon, see Saak, High Way to Heaven, 188.

Introduction

37

richness, order, and eloquence.98 For Jordan and his confrères, Augustine was the city on the hill, letting his light shine on all people.99 As such, Augustine founded his Order of hermits, who were to be imitatores patris nostri Augustini and to follow Augustine as “the exemplar and rule of all our actions,”100 as Jordan insisted in his Liber Vitasfratrum. Thus not only Augustine, but also his Order was to be the city of God. Augustine’s true sons sought to follow in the footsteps of their father, who merited such adulation and imitation because he had united the active with the contemplative life both in his person and his Order. Jordan, however, redefined the contemplative life, going beyond the call for the need to combine the two. The distinction between the contemplative and active lives was not that between the monk in his cell and the secular in the world, or between solitude and the cure of souls. What distinguished the vita contemplativa from the vita activa was the age old division between soul and body, or spirit and flesh. All endeavors geared toward cultivating the soul—​including preaching, guiding, and teaching—​were by definition, or rather, by Jordan’s definition, contemplative, whereas the physical needs of oneself or one’s neighbor comprised the active.101 In short, contemplation was only one aspect of the vita contemplativa, which comprised as well preaching and teaching, the Order’s theological endeavor in the universities and in the studia. In Jordan’s eyes, Augustine’s 98

“… [Augustinus] omnes forme scriptores, qui de rebus sanctis sive in ipsis gentilium sive in nostris litteris ediderint, ubertate, ordine et elegantia superavit.” Augustinus Novellus de Padua, Sermo ad clerum in honorem S. Augustini, Basel, ub ma A.N. iv. 13, fol. 223r. 99 “… beatus Augustinus fuit civitas non abscondita sed manifesta cunctibus gentibus.” Jor. Opus Dan, sermo 130B (ed. Strassburg, 1484); “Nam sicut sol est fontale principium luminis ipsam lunam et stellas illustrans et ad omnem partem suos radios diffundens, sic beatus Augustinus lumen sue sapientie in omnes alios diffundens, quia revera hodie omnes doctores palpitarent in tenebris ignorantie nisi haurirent de fonte sapientie … alii doctores comparantur stellis, Augustinus autem soli, quia sicut sol illuminat totum mundum, sic Augustinus totam ecclesiam perfudit lumine sue sapientie et doctrine.” Jor. Opus Dan, sermo 185C (ed. Strassburg, 1484). 100 “… beatissimus Pater noster Augustinus, qui debet esse omnis nostrae actionis exemplar et regula …” Jor. vf 1,11 (36,32–​33). 101 Jor. vf 1, 10 (33,6–​9). Peter of Capua (late 12th/​early 13th century) seems to have foreshadowed Jordan’s redefinition; see M Rouse and R. Rouse, “Statim invenire: Schools, Preachers, and New Attitudes to the Page,” in idem, Authentic Witnesses. Approaches to Medieval Texts and Manuscripts (Notre Dame, IN, 1991), 191–​219, though Thomas of Froidmont delineated for his sister the traditional understanding; see Thomas of Froidmont, Liber de modo bene vivendi, pl 184, 1276D-​1277A. For an analysis of the traditional meaning of contemplatio and the vita contemplativa, see J. Leclercq, Etudes sur le vocabulaire monastique du moyen âge (Rome, 1961); idem, Otia Monastica. Etudes sur le vocabulaire de la contemplation au moyen âge (Rome, 1963).

38 Introduction combination of anchoritic and cenobitic monasticism formed not merely the vita perfecta, but the vita perfectissima.102 Augustine instituted his Order as a contemplative Order, but as such, as one that was to minister and preach to the people. Because of this original institution, the Church “directed the ‘little brother hermits’ of St. Augustine to the cities.”103 Just as St. Augustine, who frequently sought the solitude of contemplation, so the brothers of the Order lead an eremitical life of meditation and contemplation, but are eager to impart their spiritual goods to others by theirs works and their doctrine, teaching equally by word and example.104 In his Rule and institution Augustine taught the most perfect life to his Order, which, as no other, is therefore able to be in the city and yet still the city on the hill. The imitation of Augustine was the proper means of living Augustine’s religion, which combined with the myth of Augustine, the creation of Augustine as the founding father of the Hermits,105 to form the Order’s ideology as it sought to further its platform based on a political Augustinianism that had served as the catalyst for the Order’s very identity. This ideology, which was indeed a system of signs assigning meaning within the oesa social system, included both the academic theology of the universities and the pastoral theology of the Order’s non-​university studia. The Order’s theological endeavor, both pastoral and systematic, within the context of the Order’s ideology formed the Augustinians’ mendicant theology. Yet after the shock of the Schism and the resulting deterioration of academic standards,106 the Augustinians’ mendicant theology can well be seen in the context of a general late medieval theology of piety (Frömmigkeitstheologie).107 When we strive to understand the Order’s theological production from an internal perspective, however, in context of

102 “Quo exemplo instruimur hanc esse vitam perfectissimam: nunc in solitudine soli Deo vacare et nunc exire per contemplationem hausta ad lucra animarum reportanda aliis eructare.” Jor. vf 1, 11 (35,8–​11). 103 “Sane hunc modum primariae institutionis Ordinis attendens sacrosancta mater Ecclesia fratres eremicolas sancti Augustini ad civitates direxit …” Jor. vf 1,11 (35,23–​25). 104 Jor. vf 1,11 (35,25–​36). Cf. C. Bynum, Docere Verbo et Exemplo: An Aspect of Twelfth-​Century Spiriutality, Harvard Theological Studies 31 (Missoula, 1979); idem, “The Canonical Concern with Edification Verbo et Exemplo,” in idem, Jesus as Mother. Studies in the Spirituality of the High Middle Ages (Berkeley, 1982), 36–​40. 105 See Saak, Creating Augustine. 106 Saak, Luther and the Reformation of the Later Middle Ages, 88–​90. 107 The concept of Frömmigkeitstheologie was developed by Berndt Hamm, Frömmigkeitstheologie am Anfang des 16. Jahrhunderts. Studien zu Johannes von Paltz und seinem Umkreis (Tübingen, 1982); for my critique of the concept, see Saak, High Way to Heaven, 348–​350.

Introduction

39

the continued Augustinian ideology, the Hermits’ theological endeavor was an Augustinian mendicant theology indeed. In dividing “scholastic theology” into two competing “schools” of the Dominican and the Franciscan tradition, scholars ignore other theological traditions, including, as mentioned in passing above, the tradition of the secular theologians at Paris, who stood not only in competition, but also in conflict with the mendicants. Henry of Ghent, Godfrey of Fontaines, and John of Pouilly, cannot be considered to have formed a “school” of secular masters at Paris, yet were formidable scholars.108 What unifies such monastic “schools”? While one could argue for Thomas being the defining theologian for the Dominicans, and he was designated as the Order’s theologian, and Bonaventure as the theologian for the Franciscans, such uniformity breaks down when we consider such scholastic theologians as the Dominican Robert Holcott, who was by no means a Thomist, or the Franciscans Peter Auriole or William of Ockham, who were by no means disciples of Bonaventure. The same applies to the Augustinians and their official theologian, Giles of Rome. Giles had been named the official theologian of the oesa in 1287, after which all members of the Order were to follow the teachings of Giles as present in the works he had already published, or in those he might yet publish.109 While some modern scholars have argued that this stipulation did not apply to the Order’s university magistri, since we find a significant amount of divergence from Giles’ theology in the theology of later Augustinian theologians at Paris, or Oxford,110 one could then similarly claim that Thomas did not stand for Dominican theology any more than did Bonaventure for Franciscan. The decree at the General Chapter of the oesa did not limit the proclamation of Giles as the Order’s theologian to the Order’s non-​university teachers, but teaching according to the doctrines of Giles did not mean that every Augustinian master thereafter had to read the Sentences secundum Aegidium. While there could be Thomism, Bonaventurianism, and Aegidianism, such did not define Dominican, Franciscan, or Augustinian theology. We can point to a general orientation among the Dominicans as defining theology primarily as speculative knowledge, and among the Franciscans as

108 Chris Schabel, however, has shown that Henry of Ghent serviced in some ways as an official doctor of the secular masters as did Thomas for the Dominicans and Giles for the Augustinians; see Schabel, “John Duns Scotus in the Eyes of His Fellow Regent Masters in 1306–​1307, John of Pouilly and Henry of Friemar the Elder oesa,” (forthcoming). I would like to thank Dr. Schabel for making a pre-​publication copy of his paper available to me. 109 Saak, “The Theology of Giles of Rome,” Aug(L) 64/​1 (2020): 109–​181; 109–​110. 110 Ibid., 110n.

40 Introduction practical knowledge,111 whereas for the Augustinians theology, following Giles, was primarily neither speculative nor practical, but was affective knowledge.112 Yet not all Augustinians agreed, as we will see below. While attempting to characterize what constituted Dominican theology and Franciscan theology as distinctive theological “schools,” beyond Thomism or Bonaventurianism, and consequently the validity and usefulness of such designations, lies beyond the scope of this study, I do hope to offer an argument for what unified the Augustinians, and did so distinctively, even though we cannot appeal to Giles as that basis of unity. If Aegidianism did not define late medieval Augustinian theology, then what did? Damasus Trapp offered an answer to this question, at least in part. The Augustinians exhibited a historico-​critical as distinct from a logico-​critical attitude toward citing sources, and did so particularly with respect to their erudition in dealing with the works of Augustine.113 This combination of a historico-​critical attitude toward the citation of authorities and a source erudition with respect to Augustine’s works, whereby members of the oesa simply knew Augustine’s works better than their contemporaries, formed for Trapp the schola Augustiniana moderna. The modern Augustinian school, however, was rather short-​lived, having come into existence with Gregory of Rimini, “the best Augustine scholar of the Middle Ages,”114 and came to an end with the Great Schism, which “destroyed the scholastic standards of Paris by subordinating the academic world, its institutions and its magisterial dignities, to political expediency.”115 The progress of this historico-​critical attitude can be seen in the quoting techniques of the Augustinians, whereby the anonymous quidam quotations began to be identified very specifically in the marginalia, to then the “inset-​quotation,” developed, according to Trapp, by Alfonsus Vargas, and finally with John Hiltalingen of Basel we find the references named explicitly in his text.116 This went hand in hand with a very precise citation of the works of Augustine, going beyond what was available in Lombard or in the Milleloquium, compilations which Hiltalingen as other Augustinians corrected

111 Ulrich Köpf, Die Anfange der theologischen Wissenschaftstheorie im 13. Jahrhundert (Tübingen, 1974). 112 See Volume 2, ch. 9. 113 Trapp, “Augustinian Theology of the Fourteenth-​Century,” 147–​152; idem, “Hiltalingen’s Augustinian Quotations,” 415–​424. 114 Trapp, “Augustinian Theology of the Fourteenth-​Century,” 181. 115 Trapp, “Hiltalinger’s Augustinian Quotations,” 424. 116 Trapp, “Augustinian Theology of the Fourteenth Century,” 216–​220.

Introduction

41

and expanded with regard to citations of Augustine.117 This included at times a bi-​serial system of citation, citing two differing systems of capitulations of Augustine’s works, at least with respect to De trinitate, De civitate dei, De libero arbitrio and De Genesi ad litteram, as seen in the works of Hiltalingen.118 These were citations to Augustine’s works with chapters cited a de magnis and de parvis, two distinct systems of capitulations. Trapp noted that citation de parvis had begun at least by the time of Scotus,119 and we do find citation of De trinitate secundum magna and secundum parva in the Questiones Ordinarie of Henry of Friemar,120 not noted by Trapp. We do not at this time know the origin of such bi-​serial citations, but it seems that they began, first with De trinitate, in the early fourteen century with Scotus and his socius Henry, when Augustine had been a major figure in the debates on the Trinity in late thirteenth-​century Paris and on into Henry’s day. If the Augustinians were going to be Augustinians, they had to know their Augustine better than anyone else. As Trapp put it: The Augustinianism of Gregory [of Rimini] must be taken seriously. Generally speaking the Augustinianism of the Augustinians was not a question of pure free choice. Their historical claims of an Augustinian foundation had always run into difficulties; the legal existence of the Order had been uncertain until a great pope, Boniface viii, guaranteed the survival of an Order which in gratitude to the papacy supplied its most outspoken defenders. What was lacking in the historical claim of an Augustinian foundation had to be supplemented by a doctrinal Augustinianism so evident that nobody could question their being sons of Augustine. Augustinianism in the doctrinal sense was of vital importance, vital in its full meaning.121 117 Augustinians using the bi-​serial system of quotation included John Klenkok et al., see Saak, “The Augustinian Renaissance: Textual Scholarship and Religious Identity in the Later Middle Ages’ Schoalrship,” oghra 1:58–​68. 118 Trapp, “Hiltalinger’s Augustinian Quotations,” 437–​439. 119 Trapp, Hiltalinger’s Augustinian Quotations,” 437, n. 38. 120 E.g.: “Secundo sic: Augustinus 15 De trinitate capitulo 7 secundum magna vel 14 secundum parva …” Henricus de Frimaria, oesa, Questiones Ordinarie, q. 1, Toulouse, Biblioque d’Étude et du Patrimoine, ms 739, fol. 74vb; Bologna, Biblioteca Dell’Archiginnasio, ms A 971 reads: “Secundo sic Augustinus, Ricardus [sic] de trinitate c. 7 secundum magna libro 14 secundum parva …,” fol. 62rb. There are numerous problems with B, pointing to the need for a new edition of Henry’s first Questio Ordinaria, which I have undertaken together with editing Questio 2 as well; see below, Chapter 6 (hereafter cited as: Hen.Fr. Quest. Ord.). 121 Trapp, “Augustinian Theology of the Fourteenth-​Century,” 189, n.46.

42 Introduction Here we find Trapp pointing to the relationship between the Augustinians’ historical claims of their foundation and the doctrinal Augustinianism of the Augustinian magistri. These two factors were combined as component parts of the religio Augustini that formed the Order’s religious identity, whereby it was following in Augustine’s footsteps in living Augustine’s religion that made one an Augustinian. These three components, 1. the religio Augustini; 2. a doctrinal Augustinianism; and 3. asserting Augustine as the founder of the Hermits who were then his true sons and heirs, formed the Order’s ideology that emerged in the context of the fierce religio-​political conflicts between Pope Boniface viii and Philip iv of France, and between Pope John xxii and Louis of Bavaria.122 The Augustinian ideology was that which distinguished, in Trapp’s terms, “having an Augustine” from “having an Augustinianism.”123 Yet scholars after Trapp seem to have overlooked this central insight of Trapp, presented in a footnote. Oberman, for example, simply claimed that the new campaign against the “modern Pelagians” served as the catalyst for the new Augustine scholarship in the “Augustinian Renaissance,” which then provided the occasio proxima, even if not causa, of Luther’s new Reformation theology.124 Yet what led to the new Augustine scholarship was the historically new appropriation of Augustine in context of the Order’s developing religious identity and ideology, rather than a new theological campaign against the Pelagiani moderni. Moreover, the campaign against the “modern Pelagians,” evident not only in Gregory of Rimini but also in the secular theologian and Oxford scholar Thomas Bradwardine, was not a uniform position of the Augustinian magistri at Paris, even when a strongly Augustinian theological position on predestination, grace, and merit was.125 The Augustinian magistri, in other words, evidenced a distinctive “anti-​Pelagian” theology even when they were not concerned or engaged in an explicit campaign against the modern Pelagians, even as, as I have argued, this strongly Augustinian doctrinal Augustinianism had no influence on Luther.126 Henry of Friemar may well have stood at the origins of the Augustinians’ source erudition with respect to Augustine’s works and he was certainly a 1 22 Saak, Creating Augustine, 46–​79. 123 Trapp, “Harvest of Medieval Theology [Notes on Heiko A. Oberman’s book, The Harvest of Medieval Theology].” Augustinianum 5 (1965): 147–​151; 150. 124 See Oberman, “Headwaters of the Reformation, 39–​83”; yet the debate over Augustine and the origins of Luther’s reformation theology predates Oberman’s Augustinian Renaissance thesis; see Saak, High Way to Heaven, 691–​693. For a critique of Oberman’s position, see Saak, Luther and the Reformation of the Later Middle Ages. 125 The one exception though was Thomas of Strassburg; for Thomas, see the forthcoming second volume of this current work. 126 Saak, Luther and the Reformation of the Later Middle Ages, 213–​223.

Introduction

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major player in the emergence of the Order’s identity. This new appropriation of Augustine led to the academic and scholarly Augustinian erudition, which itself led to Augustinian magistri departing from the explicit positions and teachings of Giles of Rome. What united the Augustinians theologically was that which united them religio-​politically, namely, the adoption of Augustine as their father, leader, teacher and head, as the sapiens architector ecclesie, as Jordan put it. Jordan had worked very closely indeed with Henry and had submitted his Liber Vitasfratrum, the “handbook” of the Order, dedicated to John Hiltalingen of Basel in detailing what indeed made one an Augustinian, to the Prior General of the Order, Gregory of Rimini. Nevertheless, there was still doctrinal diversity and debate. Giles of Rome was indeed the Order’s theologian, recognized by all, but that did not entail that Giles and his teachings were what determined what was and what was not “Augustinian.” What united the Augustinian theologians, both those in the university and those in the non-​university studia, was what I referred to above as the Augustinian ideology. This was an ideology that was comprised of several factors. First, there was the political component of the Augustinians’ political theology, developed in the context of the fierce religio-​political controversies of the early fourteenth century. These controversies, and the papal recognition of the oesa based on their support of the papal position, led the Augustinians to focus on proving themselves to have been worthy of their father Augustine, an endeavor that encompassed both the academic theology of the Order and its pastoral endeavor, based on the realization, formalized by Jordan of Quedlinburg in his Liber Vitasfratrum, that Augustine had combined the active life with the contemplative life, forming thereby not merely the vita perfecta, but the vita perfectissima, a life uniquely lived by Augustine’s true sons and heirs, the Augustinian Hermits. Yet before Jordan articulated this precept, Augustinians Hermits were already working toward its eventual formulation in their very definition of theology itself and the embodiment of that theology within their daily lives lived in context of the university, the non-​university studia, the cloister, and their communities. 6

Scope of Study

Taken as a whole, therefore, the Augustinian theology of the later Middle Ages signifies the theology of the oesa as its members sought to transform Christians as such based on their own ideology as understanding themselves as being the embodiment of their father Augustine. It was this theology, rather than a narrow anti-​Pelagianism, that provided the context for the emergence

44 Introduction of a new appropriation of Augustine in the period scholars still refer to as The Reformation. The definitions, conceptions, and methodological considerations as discussed above are intended to help clarify my use of the terms, “Augustinian theology,” “Augustinian” and “Augustinianism” in the study that follows. As such, it is instructive here to repeat the four theses of this two-​part argument articulated in the Preface above:

1. Historically seen, Augustinian theology in the later Middle Ages cannot be reduced to late medieval anti-​Pelagianism; 2. Historically seen, Augustinian theology in the later Middle Ages was the theology of the Order of Hermits of St. Augustine (oesa); 3. Historically seen, Augustinian theology in the later Middle Ages cannot be reduced or limited to the theological production of the Augustinian Hermits’ university magistri; 4. Historically seen, Augustinian theology in the later Middle Ages was a major catalytic factor in the emergence of the Reformation and Early Modern Europe.

As Damasus Trapp once told me in correspondence when early on in my scholarly career I had asked for his advice about my interest both in the history of the Order and the Order’s theology, I would, Trapp said, have to choose between the history of the Order and the theology of the Order, that I could not really do both. This was not a piece of advice that I listened to, and I have tried to combine the history of the Order with its theology, perhaps, consequently, indeed doing neither sufficiently at all. As with so many of his insights, Trapp may have been right. But tried I have, perhaps because it seems to me that Augustine’s reception, influence, and impact cannot be traced, sketched, or interpreted without seeing the various strands of research as forming part of a larger whole. As stated above, Augustine was omnipresent in the later Middle Ages to the point that it would be difficult to find a scholar who had not, in some fashion, received Augustine, even if Augustine remained unknown. Yet within that general reception of Augustine, some scholars made Augustine their own, or at least used Augustine for their own purposes, and to this extent, they appropriated Augustine. But within the sphere of Augustine’s late medieval appropriation, there was an identifiable historical phenomenon of the emergence of an Augustinian ideology, present uniquely in the Augustinian Hermits, who wedded their reception and appropriation of Augustine with their own religious identity of being sons of Augustine. This is not to say that Augustine was

Introduction

45

received independently of ideology, for all reception is, to an extent, inherently ideological; what it is saying though is that there was a particular, distinctive, and unique Augustinian ideology that emerged from a particular appropriation of Augustine and is to be found within the Order of Hermits of St. Augustine, Augustine’s true sons. This Augustinian ideology cannot be reduced to theological positions, scholarly erudition, or frequency of citation, even as this ideology did produce both distinctive theological positions and scholarly erudition, as well as having been responsible for the new Augustine scholarship, the return ad fontes Augustini that preceded the call of the Italian humanists to return ad fontes, one of the definitions of what made the Renaissance the Renaissance. The signification of the term “ideology” goes beyond reception to include the larger “mind” behind the reception, in Wendell-​Holmes terms, or the broader understanding of the appropriation of Augustine, as I have discussed, forming the context and social systems in which signs achieved their meaning in the first place. Only when we begin to recognize the distinctions between the reception of Augustine, the appropriation of Augustine, and the Augustinian ideology can we come to a position of being able to begin to discern what “being an Augustinian” in the later Middle Ages entailed and what impact that had. In this light, what I hope to achieve here is a new understanding of late medieval Augustinianism in defending the theses as stated above by describing a broader understanding of what is signified by “Augustinian theology in the later Middle Ages.” The work that follows is divided into six parts. These six parts are thematic, rather than chronological, and thus in “reality” each of the themes worked together in a developmental whole. Part 1 begins with the broader medieval Augustinian tradition itself and continues with the oesa’s religious identity and what it meant to live as an Augustinian as one part of the more general reception of Augustine as such. Part 2 then turns to the political theology of the Order, which was developing together with the emergence of the Order’s identity, and indeed, can only be distinguished therefrom heuristically. The educational system of the Order and the theology taught in the Order’s studia not associated with a university is the focus of Part 3. It was in such studia that the vast majority of the Order’s preachers and teachers were trained. In other words, the theology of the studia represented the theology of the Order, and thus Augustinian theology, to a greater degree than did the theology taught and debated at the universities, which then forms the theme of Part Four. Future academic theologians of the Order, before they proceeded to the university degrees of bachelor and then master of theology, had first been trained as lectors in the Order’s non-​university studia. Yet some of the lectors in the non-​university studia had been trained at Paris as masters of theology

46 Introduction before returning to teach in the Order’s studia. If the basis for determining what was and what was not “Augustinian theology” is limited to the lectures on the Sentences of Augustinian university theologians, we will have a very narrow view of what constituted Augustinian theology. Whether as masters or simply as lectors, lectors in the studia continued to publish works of pastoral and moral theology, designed to shape and inform the Order’s pastoral and evangelical mission. Thus Part Five turns to the moral theology of the Order as the theology the Order’s preachers, teachers, and masters sought to bring to the public at large as part of their very self-​understanding and religious identity as being sons of Augustine. It is not, however, any one part of the work that follows that is determinative for Augustinian theology in the later Middle Ages, but rather the inter-​relationship between all five. In other words, Augustinian Theology in the later Middle Ages was the matrix of the Order’s religious identity, its political theology, its academic theology in the studia and universities, and its moral theology, all working together as the five principal components of Augustinian Theology in the Later Middle Ages. In this light, Augustinian Theology was synonymous with an Augustinian ideology, as defined above, and thus constituent for what can be described historically as an identifiable, historical late medieval Augustinianism. Yet only when we can come to reconceptualize the debate over Augustine’s late medieval heritage in light of the historiographical, conceptual, and methodological considerations as detailed above can we then come to recognize the historical contours, importance and impact of Augustinian theology in the later Middle Ages. Thus, Part Six seeks to offer preliminary indications of the impact of Augustinian theology on the emergence of the Reformation and to chart work that still needs to be done. In this light, the study that follows remains simply a point of departure, and thus truly only “some notes.” Even given the wealth of scholarship that has been done, we still know so little. Consequently, this work is in no way conceived or intended as the final word on Augustinian theology in the later Middle Ages. Rather, it should be read as an “introduction,” as a point of departure, or as a doorway into a world that we have forgotten, and that remains very little known. This world is a world that is rich and wonder-​filled, just waiting to be explored more completely, even as it is a world that is essential for coming to a deeper and more historical understanding of Augustine’s influence and impact in the later Middle Ages, which is itself prerequisite to a deeper and more historical understanding of the context and onset of the Renaissance, Reformation, and the emergence of modernity. Thus too, the historical importance and relevance of the Augustinian Theology of the later Middle Ages.

pa rt 1 Augustinian Traditions

∵

Introduction There was no single Augustinian tradition in the Middle Ages. Douglas Grey was correct in claiming that Augustine was omnipresent.1 Yet the omnipresence of Augustine itself renders recognizing distinct Augustinian traditions ephemeral. There was no unified, standard base, no standard edition present in libraries that contained all of Augustine to which any scholar, at any time, would have had access. We cannot simply assume that any scholar worthy of our attention would have known Augustine well, so that we can then determine, on that basis, the degree to which a given scholar, or group of scholars, appealed to Augustine and used Augustine in order to determine who was more Augustinian. Scholars in the Middle Ages and on into the Renaissance and Reformation did not have the Corpus Christianorum, nor even Migne. Most scholars only had a relatively small selection of Augustine’s works available to them, together with standard handbooks and florilegia, from which they could draw their quotable quotes.2 Moreover, until the fourteenth century at least, there was as such no Augustine scholarship. Scholars argued at various times over theological or philosophical ideas that were traced, or attributed to Augustine, but there was no attempt to analyze and interpret what Augustine himself thought, meant, or intended. His words and texts, much like the Bible itself, were used for a variety of purposes. Augustine was an unquestioned authority, but one that was used for a scholar’s own purposes. We do, though, find scholars who evidenced an impressive knowledge of Augustine, or at least of some of Augustine’s works, and seemingly appropriated Augustine’s teachings for themselves. Such appropriations led to various Augustinian traditions, demarcated by various uses of Augustine, rather than by various interpretive traditions of Augustine’s texts in attempt to reach the “historical” Church Father. If we can identify an “Augustinian renaissance,” a rebirth of a scholarly erudition with respect to Augustine’s works themselves, in the fourteenth century,3 we can only really do so in comparison to the reception of Augustine in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. A central part of what has been seen as a late medieval “Augustinian Renaissance” has been the combination of the reception of Augustine’s texts 1 Gray, “Saint Augustine and Medieval Literature,” 20. 2 See Saak, Creating Augustine, 24–​33; Saak, “Augustine and his Late Medieval Appropriations (1200–​1500), oghra 1: 39–​50. 3 Saak, “The Augustinian Renaissance: Textual Scholarship and Religious Identity in the Later Middle Ages,” oghra 1:58–​68.

© Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, 2022 | DOI:10.1163/9789004504707_003

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Part 1

with a renewed anti-​Pelagianism. In the fourteenth-​century, this renaissance has seen as having been initiated by the secular priest Thomas Bradwardine and the Augustinian Hermit, Gregory of Rimini. It was especially amongst the theologians of the oesa that modern scholars have identified fourteenth-​ century theologians who simply knew Augustine better than their contemporaries or forebearers.4 It was this erudition, combined with a theological anti-​Pelagianism, that, in some fashion, led to the emergence of Luther’s “Augustinianism” and the origins of the Reformation.5 We must, however, question the extent to which a scholarly, erudite knowledge of Augustine led to a renewed anti-​Pelagian theology, as well as the extent to which a renewed anti-​Pelagian theology led to a rebirth of Augustine scholarship. We do find scholars in the late twelfth and early thirteenth century whose knowledge of Augustine’s works were seemingly equal, at least in most respects and at least with respect to particular works of Augustine, to the erudition of the fourteenth-​century initiators of the “Augustinian renaissance” without evidencing a strident anti-​Pelagian theology. In short, we know far too little about the high medieval reception of Augustine to make conclusive, or even persuasive, arguments for a renewed textual erudition in the fourteenth century that was combined with an anti-​Pelagian theology, and we do find scholars within the oesa in the fourteenth century who evince a level of source erudition equal to those scholars who have been seen as the initiators of an Augustinian renaissance. In other words, an anti-​Pelagian theology at times went hand in hand with a new scholarly erudition with respect to Augustine’s works, and at other times did not, so that we cannot claim that one was the catalyst for the other. Moreover, we still have such an insufficient understanding of the reception of Augustine in the early and high Middle Ages, aside from tracing theological positions that can, based on modern interpretations, be traced back to Augustine, that we cannot with any significant degree of scholarly honesty demarcate a level of erudition of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries to compare with that of the fourteen century in order to clearly identify and delineate a genuinely new rebirth of Augustine scholarship. That such a rebirth was a historical phenomenon has been taken as a given, and even if we can, for the time being, accept such as indeed a historical phenomenon, which indeed seems to be the case, until much new research has been done on the reception of Augustine in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries we remain left with an insufficient base for determining what was

4 Trapp, “Augustinian Theology.” 5 See Oberman, “Headwaters of the Reformation.”

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indeed a renaissance. Moreover, scholarly conventions and styles changed from the high to the later Middle Ages, and thus we must realize that our identification of an “Augustinian renaissance” could very well be based on a shift in academic, scholarly style, rather than in the knowledge or level of erudition of individual theologians and philosophers. British scholars of the nineteenth century, for example, were not any less knowledgeable or erudite than their German contemporaries, even as, based on footnotes and scholarly style, the Germans appear to have been more scholarly and erudite than their British counterparts. The same applies to medieval Augustinian traditions. Gregory of Rimini may well have been the “best Augustine scholar” of the Middle Ages,6 but until we have a far more complete understanding of the Augustinian scholarship of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries such a determination must remain preliminary. In this light, I begin this present work with an investigation of some of the various Augustinian traditions in the high and later Middle Ages, based on how Augustine was received in various contexts. Chapter 1 seeks to give an indication of how Augustine was known in the high Middle Ages and in the Italian Renaissance, which was closely related to the “Augustinian Renaissance” itself. Chapter 2, then, turns to the religious reception of Augustine, particularly within the oesa. This reception was that of what Harnack termed Augustine’s Christian, cultural ethic, as discussed above. It was the religious reception of Augustine that determined a specific Augustinian tradition of those individuals whose very religious identity was determined by the works of Augustine, within the context of the socio-​religious group that was the oesa. In some ways the distinction here is between the reception of Augustine as the k­ nowledge and use of Augustine’s texts, and the appropriation of one’s interpretation of Augustine as the determining principle of one’s own identity, for oneself and for one’s group. Norbert Elias’s “I/​We balance” comes into play here, whereby the establishment of an “I” of an individual, and of that individual’s identity, can only be formed, shaped, and identified in context of the “We,” the group identity that forms the basis for the individual identity of a member of that group.7 The reception of Augustine in the context of a group and individual identity with Augustine must be distinguished from the reception and use of Augustine by individuals whose identity were formed by other groups, by other “We’s.” In other words, the self-​identification, and the self-​determination of “being an Augustinian” was a distinct Augustinian tradition in the later

6 Trapp, “Augustinian Theology of the Fourteenth Century,” 181. 7 Norbert Elias, The Society of Individuals (Oxford, 1991).

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Middle Ages that was based upon a specific reception of Augustine distinct from all previous receptions and uses of Augustine. It was, as the argument here and throughout seeks to demonstrate, the religious reception of Augustine, the religious tradition of Augustine, that served as the catalytic factor for the renaissance of Augustine rather than a theological anti-​Pelagianism. Scholars such as Anselm of Canterbury, John Salisbury, Helinand of Froidmont, Robert Grosseteste, Thomas Aquinas, and Bonaventure all knew and used Augustine, but it was only members of the oesa, as well as the oesa itself, that identified themselves as the heirs and followers of Augustine, which therefore provided the historical basis for determining that which was historically Augustinian theology in the later Middle Ages.

­c hapter 1

The Reception of Augustine The reception of Augustine is virtually synonymous with the intellectual history of the west. As such it has had its peaks and valleys. It it, however, a history that is still being written.1 Whereas scholars have revealed a renaissance of Augustine scholarship in the fourteenth century,2 the thirteenth century has not been seen as a major period in Augustinianism, aside from the abstract, and ahistorical, dichotomy of Augustinianism and Aristotelianism in the high medieval schools.3 If we desire to understand the so-​called late medieval Augustinian renaissance, we can only do so in context of that which came before, namely, the pre-​renaissance reception of Augustine in the thirteenth century. A comprehensive treatment of Augustine’s reception in the thirteenth century is a lacuna in our understanding, yet it provides both the culmination of the twelfth-​century reception of Augustine and the point of departure for later medieval developments leading into the Reformation. One such development was the Italian Renaissance, and its relationship to Augustine. Renaissance scholars have been seen as having initiated a textual scholarship that began a tradition leading to modern textual-​critical analysis. The return to the sources became the hallmark of the movement, and thus one would expect to see an approach to Augustine that was more erudite than that of the humanists’ medieval forebearers. Yet what emerges is the relative lack of knowledge of Augustine among the humanists, or at least the apparent lack of use. Was the humanist scholarly erudition with respect to Augustine on the same level as the humanist classical scholarship? Or were the humanists simply not interested in Augustine? There were, certainly, a few exceptions, depending on how one defines “humanist” and whom one places in that category. Petrarch’s devotion to Augustine is well-​known and well-​documented. Yet when we seek further, how well did Petrarch indeed actually know Augustine? And what does Petrarch’s reception of 1 See The Oxford Guide to the Historical Reception of Augustine, ed. Karla Pollmann et al., 3 vols. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2013); hereafter cited as oghra. 2 See E.L. Saak, “The Augustinian Renaissance: Textual Scholarship and Religious Identity in the Later Middle Ages,” in oghra 1: 58–​68. 3 E.L. Saak, “Augustine in the Western Middle Ages to the Reformation,” 465–​477; for the term ‘Augustinianism’, see E.L. Saak, “Augustinianism,” in oghra 2: 596–​599.

© Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, 2022 | DOI:10.1163/9789004504707_004

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Augustine tell us about the reception of Augustine in the later Middle Ages as such? Was Petrarch’s “Renaissance Augustinianism” closely related to the Augustinianism of the Augustinian Renaissance, or was it rather more in keeping with the thirteenth-​century reception of Augustine? In order to bring the Augustinian renaissance into clearer relief, the reception of Augustine in the high Middle Ages and in the Italian Renaissance are requisite parameters to determine whether the reception of Augustine by fourteenth-​century Augustinian Hermits was distinct at all in terms of the knowledge and use of Augustine. The knowledge, use, and appropriation of Augustine was a central component of late medieval Augustinian theology, and thus I begin with the reception of Augustine in the thirteenth century and then in the Italian Renaissance focusing on the case of Petrarch. What we will find is that the Augustinianism of the Italian Renaissance and that of the twelfth-​century Augustinian Renaissance that extended on into the thirteenth century were distinct Augustinian traditions that were related to the Augustinian renaissance only based on the varying levels of reception of the works of Augustine. Bridges between the “three renaissances,” the twelfth-​century Augustinian renaissance, the Italian Renaissance, and the Augustinian renaissance, were certainly there, but describing those bridges and understanding how they worked is the task for future scholarship. Here I simply hope to provide indications of some of the pillars of those bridges to provide a point of departure for further research. 1

In the Wake of Lombard

The twelfth century was a watershed in the development of the West. Since Charles Homer Haskins published his ground-​breaking study, The Renaissance of the Twelfth Century, in 1927, initiating what has become known as the “revolt of the Medievalists,” scholars have endeavored to reveal the impact of twelfth-​ century developments, demonstrating that much of what had been seen, and often still is, as unique to the later Italian Renaissance can already be found, at least in part, in the medieval humanism of the twelfth century. Even divorced from its precursor status, the “long twelfth century,” extending from the later eleventh century on into the early thirteenth, was a period of intellectual, religious, social, economic, and political change of unprecedented scale. From the Gregorian reforms, the rise of the new monasticism, the crusades, and the emergence of papal monarchy, to the recovery of Aristotle and the new universities, Europe was being transformed, to the point that Giles Constable considered the twelfth century to have been a true Reformation, “a watershed

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in the history of the church and of Christian society as well as of monasticism and religious life.”4 Augustine played a major role too in this Renaissance and Reformation, to the point that in the twelfth century, Augustine became omnipresent; as Dorothea Weber has claimed, the twelfth century was an aetas Augustiniana.5 Gratian’s Decretum, Peter Lombard’s Sentences, and the emerging Glossa ordinaria represent a high point in Augustine’s reception and provided sufficient texts and references to the works of Augustine for less ambitious scholars to be able to appear ever so erudite with respect to Augustine while never actually having read a complete text. Yet, according to the editor of the Sentences, Ignatius Brady, even Lombard himself had only read four texts of Augustine: De doctrina christiana (doctr. chr.), Enchiridion (ench.), De diversis quaestionibus (diu. qu.) and the Retractationes (retr.), though he cited Augustine 719 times in the Sentences from a rather wide selection, including 35 citations to the pseudo-​ Augustinian De fide ad Petrum and five citations to the pseudo-​Augustinian Liber sive diffinitio ecclesiasticorum, which modern scholars attribute to Gennadius, while Fulgentius of Ruspe is considered to have been the author of the De fide ad Petrum.6 This compares to the next most frequently cited authority in the Sentences, namely, Ambrose, whom Lombard cited 66 times. The majority of Lombard’s Augustine citations were drawn from either the Glossa ordinaria or the Expositio of Florus of Lyons.7 Gratian’s Decretum had a similar influence, and Augustine accounts for approximately 44% of the patristic sources.8 Yet not all Augustine citations in the Decretum are genuine works of Augustine,9 4 Giles Constable, The Reformation of the Twelfth Century (Cambridge, 1996), 325. 5 Dorothea Weber, “Confessiones,” in oghra 1:167–​174; 169. 6 Lombard cited Augustine 680 times in his Sentences, with an additional 34 quotations of the pseudo-​Augustine’s (i.e., Fulgentius de Ruspe) De fide ad Petrum and five citations of the pseudo-​Augustine’s (i.e., Gennadius) Liber sive diffinitio ecclesiasticorum dogmatum, both of which Lombard knew as genuine works, thus bringing the total of his Augustinian citations to 719. Jacques-​Guy Bourgerol, “The Church Fathers and the Sentences of Peter Lombard,” in Irena Backus, ed., The Reception of the Church Fathers in the West. From the Carolingians to the Maurists, 2 vols. (Leiden: Brill Academic Publishers, 1997): 1: 113–​164. On Fulgentius, see Chiara Ombretta Tommasi, “Fulgentius of Ruspe,” in oghra 2: 1022–​1024. 7 Bougerol, “The Church Fathers and the Sentences of Peter Lombard,” 115. On Florus, see Cornelia Herbers, “Florus of Lyon,” in oghra 2: 1000–​1002; for the Glossa, see Alexander Andrée, “Glossa ordinaria,” in oghra 2: 1055–​1057. 8 Jean Werckmeister, “The Reception of the Church Fathers in Canon Law,” in Backus, ed. The Reception of the Church Fathers in the West, 1: 51–​81; 66; Bruce C. Brasington, “Decretum of Gratian,” in oghra 2: 861–​863. 9 Werckmeister noted that in the Decretum, “582 texts are attributed to Augustine, whereas only 469 are authentic.” Werckmeister, “The Reception of the Church Fathers in Canon Law,” 66.

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and thus the Decretum served likewise as a source for the continued spread of pseudo-​Augustinian texts, which were, though, taken as authentic in the high and later Middle Ages.10 The Glossa ordinaria only became a set text on the entire Bible with the Rusch printed edition of 1480.11 The manuscript Glossa often circulated only in part, with the glosses on the various books of the Bible having been composed by different scholars. Augustine was a major patristic source, but not uniformally throughout. Augustine was the major influence on the Glossa for Genesis, for which, according to Ann Matter, De Genesi ad litteram (Gn. litt.) “predominates and sets an exegetical tone,”12 though for the mystical senses, “the sources are usually other than Augustine, and include selections from Isidore of Seville, the Venerable Bede and, occasionally, Jerome.”13 Augustine also played a major role in the glosses on Deuteronomy, Joshua, Judges, Ruth, 1-​4 Kings, 1-​2 Chronicles, Ezra, Nehemiah, Tobit, Judith, Ester, and Psalms. He had relatively less influence for the other Old Testament books. For the New Testament, Augustine was important for the glosses on the Gospels of Mark, Luke, and John, together with Acts, but surprisingly not so for Paul’s letters, or the rest of the New Testament.14 Nevertheless, the Glossa ordinaria offered scholars substantial portions of Augustinian texts, to the extent that Ann Matter could claim that if we can come to an understanding of Augustine’s appropriation for the Glossa, together with that of the other patristic authors, we will have gained the key for understanding “the secrets of the medieval Latin tradition of biblical exegesis.”15 These three texts represent a high point in Augustine’s reception, forming the textual foundations, together with the recovery of Aristotle, of the origins of scholasticism. Yet for the most part, in Lombard, Gratian, and the Glossa Augustine was excerpted and used, rather than having served as the textual foundation in any analytical sense. While Augustine was a normative ­authority, none of these authors went beyond the compilatory. However, in 10

Arnoud Visser has noted: “Of all incunables published under Augustine’s name, in fact, almost two-​thirds (116 out of 187) were suprious.” Visser, Reading Augustine in the Reformation. The Flexibility of Intellectual Authority in Europe, 1500–​1620, Oxford Studies in Historical Theology (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2011), 15. 11 See Biblia Latina cum glossa ordinaria: facsimile reprint of the editio Princeps Adolph Rusch of Strassburg 1480/​81, 6 vols., ed. Karlfried Froehlich and Margaret T. Gibson (Turnhout: Brepols, 1992). 12 E. Ann Matter, “The Church Fathers and the Glossa ordinaria,” in Backus, ed., The Reception of the Church Fathers in the West, 1: 83–​111; 86. 13 Ibid., 87. 14 Ibid., 88–​108. 15 Ibid., 109; see also Alexander Andrée, “Glossa ordinaria,” in oghra 2:1055–​1057.

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the later twelfth century and on into the thirteenth, we find a new attitude toward Augustine and his texts that would provide the basis for the new source erudition with respect to Augustine evident in the fourteenth-​century Augustinian Renaissance.16 This new attitude is aptly illustrated by two case studies, the late-​twelfth and early thirteenth-​century Cistercian, Helinand of Froidmont, and the Oxford scholar, Robert Grosseteste. While very distinct in terms of careers, Helinand and Grosseteste demonstrate a shift in Augustine’s reception, contributing to the transition from the twelfth-​century Augustinian Renaissance, to that of the later Middle Ages. If Lombard can be seen as the culmination of the earlier period of Augustine’s reception, as in so many ways he can, in the wake of Lombard’s achievement we find in the early thirteenth century the beginnings of a renewed reception of Augustine, the impact of which was to have far-​reaching consequences. 1.1 Helinand Not much is known about the life of Helinand. He was born around 1160 in the region of Beauvais, and died sometime after 1229. Of noble origin, Helinand studied with the pupil of Abelard, Ralph of Beauvais, and then pursued the life of a trouvère, before undergoing a conversion around 1182 and entering the Cistercian monastery at Froidmont. Helinand was the author of the well-​ known vernacular Les Vers de la Mort, and became a renowned preacher.17 Moreover, in the early thirteenth century, Helinand set his hand to composing an encyclopedic world chronicle, his Chronicon. While Romance literature offered social commentary on the author’s contemporary world, encyclopedic literature attempted to present a summation of knowledge. There was, however, no single genre or form of encyclopedic literature. What unified medieval “encyclopedias” was the compilatory nature of the work. Universal chronicles formed a genre of encyclopedic literature that sought to present an interpretation of and commentary on the past for the author’s or compiler’s present in attempt to preserve knowledge. As the thirteenth-​century chronicler Guillaume de Nangis stated in the prologue to his Chronicon,

16 17

See also Richard and Mary Rouse, “Statim invenire: Schools, Preachers, and New Attitudes to the Page,” in idem, Authentic Witnesses, 191–​219. For Helinand’s life, see F. Wulff and E. Walberg (eds.) Les Vers de la Mort par Hélinant, Moine de Froidmont (Paris: Firman Didot et cie, 1905), iii-​xxvii. See also http://​www.vincen​tius​belv​acen​sis.eu/​helin​and/​hfbib.htm; and http://​www.arl​ima.net/​eh/​helina​nd_​d​e_​ fr​oidm​ont.html, both of which give extensive bibliography on Helinand.

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Since the deeds of times past are infinite and there are very many recorders of history indeed, so that they are not able to be had or read by all, it is not in vain that I have taken charge to collect together a few things from the infinite and to bring them together into one compendium which is prepared and completed for the pleasure of its readers.18 After discussing his approach, and how he would draw from Jerome’s translation of Eusebius for the history of the earliest times, and from Sigibert of Gembloux for the later, Guillaume announced that he would add other things to these accounts, which even if recorded by others, he would compose in a new order and way, and he would in addition compile other things from his own time.19 Thus for Guillaume, the past was to be preserved and brought “up to date” by the compilation of a compendium of knowledge for the enjoyment and education of his audience. It was this aspect of the universal, world chronical that led Jacques Le Goff to consider the universal chronicle the “model encyclopedia for history.”20 The thirteenth century was the height of medieval encyclopedic endeavors which saw the compilation of such classic medieval encyclopedias as the Dominican Thomas of Cantimpré’s Liber de natura rerum (1230–​1245), the Franciscan Bartholomeus Anglicus’s De proprietatibus rerum (1242–​1247), and the Dominican Vincent of Beauvais’s Speculum maius (1250).21 Yet before these classic works, during the years 1211–​1223, precisely when vernacular historiography in France began to flourish,22 Helinand set his pen to writing a compilatory world chronicle in Latin, which became a major source for Vincent of Beauvais’ Speculum maius,23 and represents what Le Goff called the 18

19 20 21 22 23

“Cum infinita sunt temporum gesta gestorumque digestores quam plurimi nec possint ab omnibus vel haberi vel legi non inutiliter duxi ex infinitis pauca colligere et in unum coartare compendium que legentibus oblectamentum pariant et profectum.” Guillaume de Nangis, Chronicon, Paris, BnF ms lat. 4917, fol. 1r. “Cetera autem ego frater Gwillelmus sancti Dyonisii in Francia monachus subiungens que ab aliis quidem digesta erant sed non eodem modo ordinata composui, et alia mei temporis compilavi.” Ibid. See J. Le Goff, “Pourquoi le XIIIe siècle a-​t-​il été plus particulièrement un siècle d’encyclopédisme?” in M. Picone, ed., L’enciclopedismo medievale (Ravenna, 1994), 23–​40. See E.L. Saak, “Vincent of Beauvais,” in oghra 3: 1860–​1862. See G. Spiegel, Romancing the Past. The Rise of Vernacular Prose Historiography in Thirteenth-​Century France (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1993). See E.R. Smits, “Vincent of Beauvais: A Note on the Background of the Speculum,” in: W.J. Aerts, E.R. Smits, J.B. Voorbij (eds.), Vincent of Beauvais and Alexander the Great: Studies on the “Speculum Maius” and its Translations into Medieval Vernaculars (Groningen, 1986), 1–​9.

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“encyclopedic spirit” of the later twelfth and early thirteenth century. Moreover, scholars have repeatedly emphasized the importance of the Cistercians for the intellectual history of the period that is often—​albeit inadequately—​labeled ‘early scholasticism’.24 Thus Helinand’s Chronicon is an invaluable source for intellectual life in the early thirteenth century: it is a window onto a world that is often ignored, finding itself caught between the more attractive themes of St. Bernard on the one end, and the rise of the universities on the other. Helinand’s Chronicon is a map of sorts of this terra incognita and as such has much to tell us not only about medieval historiography, but also about the creation, functions and uses of texts in the high Middle Ages, including those of Augustine. One of the major challenges facing the interpreter of Helinand’s Chronicon is the challenge of interpreting medieval compilations as such, whereby the majority of the words present in the Chronicon are excerpted from other scholars.25 Helinand’s Chronicon is highly intertextualised. Consonant with medieval grammatical culture, it forms a textual pastiche, whereby, in the words of Martin Irvine, “the resulting collection forms an interpretive arrangement of texts.”26 The interpretative nature of the Chronicon though surpasses the mere emplotment. Delisle argued, Hélinand belonged to a school which had for a principle not to confuse original parts of an account with borrowings added on to the more ancient authors. He held to the rule to cite his authorities and he took care to place the word auctor at the beginning of phrases or paragraphs for which he would take responsibility.27 24

25 26 27

See, for example, Jean Leclercq, The Love of Learning and the Desire For God. A Study of Monastic Culture (New York, 1982), 196–​228; Richard and Mary Rouse, “The Development of Research Tools in the Thirteenth Century,” in Rouse and Rouse, Authentic Witnesses (as in note 18 above), 221–​255; 226; Martha G. Newman, The Boundaries of Charity. Cistercian Culture and Ecclesiastical Reform, 1098–​1180 (Stanford, 1996). See E.L. Saak, “The Limits of Knowledge: Hélinand de Froidmont’s Chronicon,” in Pre-​modern Encyclopedic Texts. Proceedings of the Second COMERS Congress, Groningen, 1–​4 July 1996, ed. Peter Binkley, bsih 79 (Leiden, 1997), 289–​302. M. Irvine, The Making of Textual Culture. `Grammatica’ and Literary Theory, 350–​1100 (Cambridge, 1994), 428. “Hélinand appartient à une école qui avait pour principe de ne pas confondre les parties originales du récit avec les emprunts faits à des auteurs plus anciens. Il s’est imposé la règle de citer ses autorités, et il a tenu à mettre le mot Auctor au commencement des phrases ou des paragraphes dont il prenait directement la responsabilité.” L. Delisle, “La chronique d’Hélinand moine de Froidmont,” in Notices de documents publiés pour la Société de l’Histoire de France, 40 (1884): 141–​154; 142.

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Yet on closer investigation, Helinand’s Chronicon appears very different from Delisle’s description. The auctor notation, pace Delisle, appears in the text as a scribal designation rather than as an authorial self-​identification, thus testifying to Seán Burke’s statement that “text and author are united under the signs of their disunion.”28 No rule for citing authorities can be found that systematically and clearly differentiates between Helinand’s own words and those of his sources. Moreover, Helinand nowhere spoke of the gesta temporum, and whereas Guillaume de Nangis, Vincent of Beauvais, Bartholomeus Anglicus, and Thomas of Cantimpré, all described their own works as compilations and their own activity as one of compiling, Helinand used other verbs. It is not the verb compilare that Helinand used, but adnotare, excerpere, excipere, explicare, exponere, and tractare. In short, Helinand’s Chronicon stands at the beginnings of a development in medieval literary theory of compilatio whereby “to compile” underwent a change in the later thirteenth and fourteenth century from a derogatory description of someone else’s work to a proud self-​designation of writers’ own activity as being one not of narration but of compilation.29 Helinand’s Chronicon is a historical work that seeks to re-​emplot, by means of the textual power exerted in the mode of compilation,30 the textual traditions of the received historia in keeping with a Cistercian religious program.31 This program was designed to educate Cistercians in the best knowledge of the day, including natural philosophy, biblical scholarship, and theology, to combat heresy in society (such as the Cathars) and dangerous approaches to knowledge that were being followed in the new universities. Helinand’s Chronicon is a Cistercian ‘textbook’ that reveals the religious and intellectual climate of late twelfth-​and early thirteenth-​century Europe, when the Cistercian Order was struggling to maintain its religio-​political dominance in the face of the challenges posed by the rise of the universities and the newly established Franciscan and Dominican Orders. Helinand’s on-​going endeavor to construct his work is evident by the “genre-​bending” of the text, whereby it assumes the form at times of a biblical commentary, at times of a catalogue of exempla for preaching (and indeed Helinand in places incorporated his own sermons into his Chronicon), and at other times that of a formal academic treatise. Hence its

28 29 30 31

S. Burke, The Death and Return of the Author. Criticism and Subjectivity in Barthes, Foucault and Derrida (Edinburgh 1992), 6; cf. idem, Authorship. From Plato to the Postmodern. A Reader (Edinburgh, 1995). See A.J. Minnis, Medieval Theory of Authorship: Scholastic LIterary Attitudes in the Later Middle Ages, 2nd ed. (Aldershot, 1988). Saak, “The Limits of Knowledge,” 289–​302. See Newman, The Boundaries of Charity.

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encyclopedic nature in addition to its scope. It thus serves as an excellent case study for the reception and use of Augustine in encyclopedic literature. By the time Helinand set his pen to authoring his Chronicon, he had a vast store of Augustinian material at his disposal that far surpassed the early medieval florilegia, such as Prosper of Aquitaine’s Sententiae and Eugippius’ Excerpta ex operibus s. Augustini.32 And this in some ways itself gets at the central problem, for Lombard’s Sentences, Gratian’s Decretum, and the Glossa were themselves compilations, and when seen as such, should put Helinand’s endeavor in broader perspective than when Helinand is viewed simply as an exceptor, putting together a medieval encyclopedic text. One of the defining characteristics of the fourtheenth-​century Augustinian renaissance was the source erudition with respect to Augustine’s works, whereby scholars, predominately but not exclusively members of the oesa, were no longer satisfied with the florilegia and compilations, but went back ad fontes to the originalia Augustini, as the library of the Sorbonne labeled one of its benches based on the inventory of 1275, even though 32 of the 149 books there listed are Pseudo-​Augustine.33 Consequently, the question we must ask is to what extent did Helinand represent the impact of the twelfth-​century Augustinian renaissance, and to what extent did he take the tradition further, harkening the analogous renaissance that was beginning a century after Helinand’s death? Or in other words, was Helinand’s reliance on Augustine based on his compiling or excerpting from other compilations, or was it based on his own reading of Augustine’s works themselves? In book 47 of the Chronicon, under the year 1083 we find an indicative reference. Here Helinand was inserting passages from the Chronica of Sigibert of Glemboux and Guillemus de Nangis. Helinand had drawn from Sigibert to relate the miraculous testimony of various birds to the sanctity of Anselm of Lucca, which then included the citation of Augustine’s De civitate dei (civ.) 3.23 as a supporting authority having related a similar event.34 Yet the quotation 32

For Prosper, see David Lambert, “Prosper of Aquitaine,” in oghra 3: 1605–​1610; for Eugippius, see Alfons Fürst, “Eugippius,” in oghra 2: 954–​959. 33 Saak, Creating Augustine, 31. 34 “Sigebertus. Anselmus Lucensis episcopus Hildebrandi cooperator indefessus, apud Mantuam exsulans moritur, qui in Jeremiam et in Psalmos tractatus edidit; et doctrinam Hildebrandi libro luculento confirmavit. Cujus sanctitas miraculis declarata est. Domesticae aves, pavones, galiinae et anseres a domibus se extraneantes, omnes fiunt sylvaticae. Augustinus, in lib. iii De civitate Dei, simile portentum narrat contigisse, dicens: «Antequam se adversus Romam sociale Latium commoveret, omnia animalia humanis usibus subdita, canes, equi, asini, boves, et quaecunque alia pecora sub hominum dominio erant, subito efferata, et domesticae lenitatis oblita, relictis tectis libera vagabantur; et omnem non solum alienorum, verum etiam dominorum aversabantur

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from Augustine was not present in Sigibert; it was a reference Helinand supplied himself. Nor can the citation be traced to any other intermediate source, at least that I have found. Helinand was supplying the additional authority based on his own knowledge of civ. and cited his source accurately, though without giving the chapter number. That Helinand had a first-​hand knowledge of civ. is beyond question, and a thorough knowledge at that; Helinand knew the text forwards and backwards, as evidence by his reconstructing the text of civ. in book 2, c­ hapters 60–​71 of his Chronicon.35 Here Helinand included a long digression on the nature of angels and demons, drawing most of all on Augustine. Chapters 48 through 71 form a continuous line of argument, constructed from civ. 8–​10. Continuous indeed, but it is so not simply following along copying Augustine’s text; rather, Helinand “cuts and pastes” his source to create a new order and line of argument, in short, he creates a new text, much as a collage or a quilt is a new work made from old materials. In ­chapter 60 Helinand begins with civ.10.2, then moves in c­ hapter 61 to 10.26. In c­ hapter 62 he begins with summarizing civ. 9.7, before moving then back to book 10 and ­chapter 21. He continues with 10.21 at the beginning of ­chapter 63, right where he had left it, more or less, and continues in this fashion, following fairly closely Augustine’s text up until

35

accessum; nec sine exitio vel periculo audentis, si quis de proximo urgeret. Quanti mali signum fuit, si hoc signum fuit; quod tantum malum fuit, si etiam signum non fuit.” Helinand, Chronicon 47 (pl 212: 977C-​D); “Anselmus Lucensis episcopus, Hildibrandi papae cooperator indefessus, apud Mantuam exulans moritur; qui in Hieremiam et in Psalmos tractatus edidit, et doctrinam Hildibrandi libro luculento confirmavit; cujus sanctitas miraculis declarata est. Domesticae aves, pavones, gallinae et aucae, a domibus se extraneantes, fiunt silvaticae.” Sigebertus, Chronica (pl 160: 223B), under year 1086; “Sed jam illa mala breviter, quantum possumus, commemoremus, quae quanto interiora, tanto miseriora exstiterunt: discordiae civiles, vel potius inciviles; nec jam seditiones, sed etiam ipsa bella urbana, ubi tantus sanguis effusus est, ubi partium studia, non concionum dissensionibus variisque vocibus in alterutrum, sed plane jam ferro armisque saeviebant: bella socialia, bella servilia, bella civilia quantum Romanum cruorem fuderunt, quantam Italiae vastationem desertionemque fecerunt? Namque antequam se adversus Romam sociale Latium commoveret, cuncta animalia humanis usibus subdita, canes, equi, asini, boves, et quaeque alia pecora sub hominum dominio fuerunt, subito efferata et domesticae lenitatis oblita, relictis tectis libera vagabantur, et omnem non solum aliorum, verum etiam dominorum aversabantur accessum, non sine exitio vel periculo audentis, si quis de proximo urgeret. Quanti mali signum fuit, si hoc signum fuit quod tantum malum fuit, si etiam signum non fuit? Hoc si nostris temporibus accidisset, rabidiores istos quam illi sua animalia pateremur.” civ. 2.23 (pl 41: 104). For the text of Helinand’s Chronicon here discussed with references to civ., see the Appendix to my article, “In the Wake of Lombard: The Reception of Augustine in the Early Thirteenth Century,” Augustinian Studies 46/​1 (2015): 71–​104.

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c­ hapter 66, where we find a prime example of “cut and paste.” In c­ hapter 66, Helinand begins with civ. 10.23 for the first phrase of his first sentences, before then summarizing 6 lines of Augustine with six words, and then includes an insert of the Greek patricum noym from civ. 10.28. But then Helinand continues. Still working on c­ hapter 66, he then moves from civ. 10.23 to 10.24, but then after a direct quote of two lines, Helinand continues by summarizing the nine previous lines of Augustine to the one he had just quoted, working backwards in Augustine’s text, so to speak. He then returns to direct quotation where he had been before his inverted insert, and continues in a forward fashion following Augustine’s text through ­chapter 67, since he then jumps to civ.10.27 in ­chapter 68. Then he continues along with 10.28 and 10.29, before jumping back with no warning in the middle of ­chapter 68 to civ. 10.9, which then continues in ­chapter 69 through ­chapter 71, except for the fact that Helinand once again works “backwards” in c­ hapters 70 and 71, citing increasing earlier parts of civ. 10.9. I think it is clear that Helinand is creating a new text here, pieced together from Augustine, but in no way “simply” copying Augustine. Such a composite text cannot be attributed to the manuscript tradition of civ., nor have I found such an arrangement in florilegia. One can only conclude that Helinand was constructing his text from scratch, so to speak, and he did so based on a thorough and intimate knowledge of civ.36 In his sermons, Helinand appealed to Augustine less frequently than he did in his Chronicon. Nevertheless, it appears that for the most part, Helinand was citing Augustine directly. In sermo 7, Helinand cites Contra Faustum (c. Faust.) twice, the first time from c. Faust.17.6 and the second, from 19.13.37 While c. Faust. was a well-​known text and often excerpted, circulating not only in complete manuscripts but also in condensed versions,38 these two specific passages are extremely rare. C. Faust. 17.6 was not excerpted and it seems that Helinand’s citation is the first citation of this passage.39 C. Faust. 19.13 was likewise rarely 36

I have searched extensively for some source of Helinand’s Augustine text, and had done so during my work on the edition of Heliannd’s Chronicon at the University of Groningen with C.H. Kneepkens. It is certainly possible that somewhere “out there” there is a particular manuscript that Helinand used with such an ordering of civ. I simply have not found it yet. I would though be very surprised if such a manuscript existed. This arrangement of texts from civ. cannot have been due to a faulty scribe, or a faulty text; it was not simply scribal error, but a willful, planned construction. The same applies to the text of Grosseteste below, even though I have spent far more time searching for Helinand’s source. 37 Helinand Sermo 7 (pl 212: 536D, 542A). 38 N. Barker-​Brian, “Contra Faustum,” in oghra, 1:196–​203. 39 “Unde dicit: Non veni solvere legem, sed adimplere. Super quem locum Augustinus contra Faustum. Ille adimplet legem, qui sic vivit, ut praecipit lex: plenitudo enim legis est

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cited, found only in Helinand, William of St. Thierry, and Florus of Lyon.40 Moreover, in the same sermon, Helinand cited from sermo 187, followed by a further citation to sermo 136.41 Helinand was the first author to cite these two

40

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charitas. Impletur ut praecepta sunt; vel cum exhibentur, quae ibi prophetata sunt.” Hel., serm. 7 (pl 212: 536D); “ Istam charitatem Dominus et exhibere et donare dignatus est, mittendo fidelibus suis Spiritum sanctum. Unde item dicit idem apostolus: Charitas Dei diffusa est in cordibus nostris per Spiritum sanctum qui datus est nobis. Et ipse Dominus: In hoc scient omnes quia discipuli mei estis, si vos invicem diligatis. Impletur ergo lex, vel cum fiunt quae ibi praecepta sunt, vel cum exhibentur quae ibi prophetata sunt. ” c. Faust. 17.6 (pl 42, col. 344). “Christus itaque redemit nos ab onere legis Mosaicae, quando ritum caeremoniarum legalium de medio tulit, et sacramenta novae legis instituit, virtute, ut ait Augustinus, majora, utilitate meliora, actu faciliora, numero pauciora; tanquam justitia fidei jam revelata.” Hel., serm. 7 (pl 212, col. 542A-​B); “Proinde prima sacramenta, quae observabantur et celebrabantur ex Lege, praenuntiativa erant Christi venturi: quae cum suo adventu Christus implevisset, ablata sunt; et ideo ablata, quia impleta; non enim venit solvere Legem, sed adimplere: et alia sunt instituta virtute majora, utilitate meliora, actu faciliora, numero pauciora, tanquam justitia fidei revelata, et in libertatem vocatis filiis Dei jugo servitutis ablato, quod duro et carni dedito populo congruebat.” c. Faust. 19.13 (pl 42, col. 355); “Proinde prima sacramenta, quae observantur et celebrantur ex lege, praenuntiativa erant Christi venturi, quae cum suo adventu Christus implevisset, oblata sunt; et ideo oblata quia impleta, non enim venit solvere legem sed adimplere. Alia sunt instituta virtute majora, utilitate meliora, actu faciliora, numero pauciora, tanquam justitia fidei revelata, et in libertate vocatis filiis Dei jugo servitutis ablato, quod duro et carni dedito populo congruebat, qualia sunt in Ecclesia baptismus Christi, eucharistia Christi, signaculum Christi.” Florus of Lyon, De Expositione Missae, 4 (pl 119, col. 20C-​D); “Lex vero factorum, est lex sancta, et mandatum sanctum, et justum, et bonum; sed per cujus bonum peccatum operatur mortem, prohibens et faciens omnem concupiscentiam; imperans et non adjuvans, puniens nec liberans. Habet autem lex fidei instituta quaedam in sacramentis Ecclesiae, legis factorum sacramentis actu faciliora, utilitate meliora, virtute majora, numero pauciora; tanquam justitia fidei revelata, et in libertatem vocatis filiis Dei, et jugo servitutis ablato, quod duro et carni dedito populo congruebat.” William of St. Thierry, Expositio in Epistolam ad Romanos, 3.27 (pl 180: 580D). Helinand could not have taken his reference from William and neither William nor Florus cited Augustine (it is certainly possible, however, that if Helinand had indeed been using Florus, the reference to Augustine could have been given in the margin. Yet the editors of the text in Migne do not give any indication of the source. It thus seems most likely indeed that Helinand drew from the text of c. Faust. itself, especially in light of his citation of c. Faust. 17.6. “Unde Augustinus homilia de Incarnatione Domini: ‘Tantum te pressit humana superbia, ut te non posset, nisi humilitas sublevare divina.» Idem in alia de eodem: «Hinc intelligimus, quam graves aestimet apud se Deus noster humanorum criminum causas, propter quas non angelum, non archangelum, sed Deum misit ad terras.’ Et addit: ‘Quam gravis sit peccati, et quam dura conditio, prodit remedii magnitudo; quanta malorum discussio erit, qua damnabuntur, sollicitudo indicat, qua redimuntur.’ ” Helinand, Sermo 7 (pl 212: 539C); “Tantum te pressit humana superbia, ut te non posset nisi humilitas sublevare divina.” s. 187. 3.3 (In Natali domini v) (pl 38: 1004); “Et ille quidem pretiosum sibi esse hominem pretii ipsius dignitate perdocuit, ut hinc quoque intelligamus quam grandes

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passages; they were not previously excerpted, and thus Helinand could only have cited these passages had he had access to the text itself. Such examples as the ones given above could easily be multiplied. I have not, however, checked every Augustine citation in Helinand’s works, and there are certainly cases when Augustine is cited, but is so in the source Helinand was excerpting, such as in book three, chapter twenty where Helinand simply “cut and pasted” from Lombard’s Sentences.42 Yet the evidence is clear that

42

apud se aestimet Deus noster humanorum criminum causas, propter quas non angelum, non archangelum, sed Deum misit ad terras; quam gravis sit peccati et quam dura conditio, prodit remedii magnitudo.” Aug. s. 136.3 (In Epiphania domini vi) (pl 39: 2014). The following is from the Vatican ms of Helinand’s Chronicon, with the rubricized marginals printed in italics with asteriks, and references to Lombard given in brackets: “*Augustinus in libro De duabus animabus* Augustinus in libro De duabus animabus: Voluntas est animi motus cogente nullo ad aliquid non admittendum uel adipiscendum. Hec autem ut non admittat malum uel adipiscatur bonum, preuenitur et preparatur gratia Dei. [Lombard 2 Sent. 26.2.1–​2 (ed. Brady, 471.15–​20)] *Augustinus in libro Enchiridion* Vnde Apostolus utramque gratiam commendans, preuenientem et subsequentem, idest operantem et cooperantem, uigilanter dixit: Non est uolentis neque currentis sed miserentis Dei. Nam si ut quibusdam placet quod dictum est, ita accipiatur tanquam diceretur, non sufficit sola uoluntas hominis, si non sit etiam misericordia Dei eadem ratione econtrario posset dici non est miserentis Dei sed uolentis hominis cum non sufficiat misericordia Dei si non sit uoluntas hominis. Homo enim credere uel sperare non poterit nisi uelit nec peruenire ad palmam nisi uoluntate currat. Restat ergo ut ideo recte dictum intelligatur ut totum detur Deo qui hominis uoluntatem bonam et preparat adiuuandam et adiuuat preparatam. [Ibid.,26.2.2(ed. Brady, 471.20–​472.10)] *Augustinus ad Bonefacium* Nolentem preuenit ut uelit, uolentem subsequitur ne frustra uelit. Igitur uoluntas comitatur gratiam, non ducit, pedissequa est, non preuia. [Ibid., 26.2.3 (ed. Brady, 472.20–​21)]. *Augustinus in libro De libero arbitrio et in libro Retractationum* Tria quippe sunt genera bonorum: magna, media, minima. Virtutes quibus recte uiuitur, magna bona sunt, species quorumlibet corporum sine quibus recte uiui potest, minima; potentie animi sine quibus recte uiui non potest, media. Primis bonis nemo male utitur. Ceteris, idest minimis et mediis, et bene et male uti possumus. [Cf. Ibid. 26.10 (ed. Brady, 479.2–​13)] *Augustinus in libro De libero arbitrio* In mediis bonis continetur liberum uoluntatis arbitrium, quia et male illo uti possumus, sed tamen tale est ut sine illo recte uiuere nequeamus. Bonus autem usus eius iam uirtus est que de bonis magnis est quibus male uti nullus potest. [Ibid. 26.11.1 (ed. Brady, 479.17–​19)] *Quid est uirtus* Virtus autem est bona qualitas mentis qua recte uiuitur et qua nullus male utitur, quam Deus solus in homine operatur. [Ibid. 27.1.1 (ed. Brady, 480.8–​10)] *Augustinus super psalmum* Cum autem dicit propheta ex persona ecclesie: feci iudicium et iusticiam, non ipsam iusticiam quam non facit homo, sed opus eius intelligi uoluit. [Ibid. 27.1.2 (ed. Brady, 480.14–​16)]” Helinand, Chronicon 3.20; Vat. Bib. Apost., ms Reg. lat. 535, 36a-​b (the manuscript is paginated, rather than foliated).

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Helinand had a thorough knowledge of selected texts of Augustine,43 which he then put to his own use.44 In this light, Helinand’s erudition with respect to Augustine matched that of his erudition with respect to classical sources,45 and surpassed that of his twelfth-​century forbearers. A similar knowledge and use of Augustine is found in Vincent of Beauvais’s Speculum Maius, for which Helinand’s Chronicon served as a major source. In Vincent’s Speculum historiale, completed in the 1250s, Vincent included a catalogue of 126 works of Augustine which Vincent himself claims to have seen, together with an additional twenty-​four he claims not to have seen.46 Vincent questioned the authenticity of the Pseudo-​Augustinian De spiritu et anima

43 44

45 46

In addition to civ., c. Faust., and selected letters and sermons, we also find Helinand citing mend., the conf., and Io. eu. tr.. He does not appear to have known trin., for he does not cite the work, even in sermo 16 that is devoted to the trinity. Helinand also evidenced an awareness of pseudo-​Augustinian writings. In sermo 3, Helinand cited from a prayer preceding the mass that was attributed to Ambrose. Helinand continued to note that in some manuscripts, the prayer is attributed to Augustine, but that, Helinand asserted, is incorrect, for Ambrose is named as author in the Pope’s copy and the style, he argued, was completely in keeping with that of Ambrose: “Et beatus Ambrosius in oratione quae inter cantandum missam a sacerdote sedente dicitur: ‘Panis pulcher, panis munde, panis vive, panis sancte, panis candidissime, habens omne delectamentum, et omnem suavitatis saporem: qui nos reficis semper, et in te nunquam deficis: comedat te cor meum.’ Haec enim oratio falso intitulatur in quibusdam missalibus sub nomine beati Augustini. Nam in exemplari domini papae intitulata est sub nomine beati Ambrosii, cujus et florentem stylum optime redolet. Helinand, sermo 3 (pl 212: 507D-​508A). In addition, Helinand was aware of Augustine’s own changing opinions on particular issues, such as the origin of the soul, affirming that Augustine had retracted his earlier position as reflected in his De quantitate animae: “Ad quod ego respondeo quod Augustinus hanc sentenciam retractavit. Sic enim ait in retractatione eiusdem libri: Illud quod dixi omnes artes animam secum attulisse michi videri nec aliud quicquam esse id quod dicitur discere quam reminisci et recordari non sic accipiendum est quasi ex hac approbertur animam uel hic in alio corpore vel alibi sive in corpore sive extra corpus aliquando vixisse et ea que interrogata respondet cum hoc non didicerit in alia vita ante didicisse fieri eim potest sicut iam in hoc opere supra diximus ut hec ideo possit quia natura intelligibilis est ut connectatur non solum intelligibilibus sed eciam immutabilibus rebus eo ordine facta ut cum se ad eas res movet quibus connexa est vel ad se ipsam in quantum eas videt in tantum de hiis vera respondeat nec sane omnes artes eo modo secum attulit ac secum habet nam de artibus que ad sesnsus corporis pertinent sicut multa medicine sicut astrologie omnia nisi quod hic didicit non potest dicere ea vero que sola intelligencia capit, propter id quod dixi cum vel a se ipsa vel ab alio fuerit bene interrogata ac recordata respondet. hec Augustinus.” Hel. Chron. 8, London, bl Cotton Claudius b ix, fol. 118va-​b; retr. 1.7 (csel 36: 35.1–​17). E.R. Smits, “Helinand of Froidmont and the A-​text of Seneca’s Tragedies,” Mnemosyne S. 4, 36 (1983), 324–​358. Saak, “Vincent of Beauvais,” oghra 3:1860–​1862; 1860B.

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based on stylistic analysis, a work that was often cited at the time as genuine. At times, Vincent simply included long passages from Augustine, such as in book twenty of the Speculum historiale ­chapters 8–​10, which consisted for the most part of excerpts from De civitate dei book 13. Yet Vincent also evidences a similar cutting and pasting of Augustine, at least to an extent, to that of Helinand, when in book six, c­ hapter 76 of the Speculum historiale Vincent quoted from Eusebius and then inserted a single line from De civitate dei 1,30, before drawing from Ovid, and then returned to De civitate dei 7,25-​26.47 In book 4, c­ hapter 51 of the Speculum historiale, Vincent was explicitly drawing on Helinand, including Helinand’s inclusion of a passage from De civitate dei 4.4, but went back to Augustine’s text itself to correct the text of Helinand’s quotation.48 Vincent evidences an impressive knowledge of Augustine, and one based on a direct, thorough, and careful reading of the texts, which Vincent usually, though not always, cited by title and not infrequently gave book references as well. In short, as I have argued, As present in the Speculum maius, Augustine was a primary component of the summation of knowledge in the thirteenth century. One could not be considered learned without a wide knowledge of Augustine. The very nature of the work, however, meant as well that scholars did not need to read the original texts of Augustine themselves. The encyclopedic treatment of Augustine not only made Augustine readily available, but also limited the need for genuine scholarship on Augustine’s texts.49 And yet Helinand appears as the first thirteen-​century author to demonstrate the level of scholarly erudition that foreshadowed the source erudition that became the hallmark of the fourteenth-​century Augustinian Renaissance. Yet he did so without the personal appropriation of Augustine as the model for the religious life.50 While Helinand did report in his Chronicon the second translation of Augustine from Sardinia to Pavia, drawn from Bede,51 and noted that 47 48 49 50 51

Ibid., 1861A. Ibid. Ibid., 1861B. Cf. Saak, Creating Augustine, 195–​221. “Luitprandus rex Longobardorum, audiens, quod Saraceni depopulata Sardinia loca illa foedassent, ubi ossa sancti Augustini doctoris magni, propter vastationem barbarorum olim translata fuerant, et honorifice condita, misit, et dato pretio accepit ea, et transtulit Ticinum; ibique cum debito Patri tanto honore condidit. Hucusque scripsit Beda Chronica sua, numerans ab initio mundi usque ad hunc Leonem, secundum Hebraicam Veritatem, annos quatuor millia sexcentos octoginta.” Hel., Chron. 45 (pl 212: 816B-​C).

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the canonical life had been established by the apostles and then reestablished by Augustine,52 there is no evidence that Helinand saw Augustine as anything more than as a doctor of the Church. Moreover, there is no indication that Helinand attempted to follow the teachings of Augustine. He used Augustine, but cannot be said to have imitated Augustine, or tried to compose his work in “thinking with” Augustine.53 Neverthless, Helinand represents a transition in the medieval reception of Augustine from the Augustinian Renaissance of the Twelfth Century to that of the Fourteenth Century. And thus, Helinand has much to reveal regarding Augustine’s reception with respect to his erudition with regard to the texts he cites, as well as with respect to the limits of his and his age’s knowledge, use, and appropriation of Augustine. 1.2 Grosseteste In turning from the still relatively obscure figure of Helinand of Froidmont, to the well-​known Robert Grosseteste, introductions can be dispensed with.54 Suffice it to say that Grosseteste, as one of the major intellectual figures of the first half of the thirteenth century, had, in the words of James McEvoy, “read very widely in the works of Augustine and imbibed his spirit.”55 As such, Grosseteste was more “Augustinian” than was Helinand. Yet we find the same, or at least a similar, use of Augustine evident in Grosseteste’s Hexaemeron as we did with Helinand’s Chronicon. Grosseteste’s Hexaemeron was composed shortly after Helinand completed his Chronicon, between 1232 and 1235 Here Grosseteste displayed intimate knowledge of civ., and we know he used ms Bodly 198 of the Bodleian Library.56 Moreover, Grosseteste’s Tabula, dated to c. 1230, gives a very reliable 52

53

54 55 56

“Ab hoc tempore coepit reflorere in Ecclesia B. Quintini Belvacensis ordo canonicus, primum ab apostolis, postea a B. Augustino episcopo regulariter institutus, sub magistro Ivone venerabili ejusdem ecclesiae praeposito, postea episcopo Carnotensi. Hoc tempore Petrus Damianus scripsit ad papam Hildebrandum, reddens rationem, cur episcopatum dimiserit.” Hel. Chron. 47 ad 1077 (pl 212: 964C-​D). It should, however, be kept in mind that the sections of the Chronicon covering the origins and rise of Christianity, and the life of Augustine, have been lost. It could very well have been that Helinand’s treatment of such themes would have revealed a strong devotion to Augustine, and would necessarily condition, alter, or render invalid my interpretation here. It is, though, clear from the text that we do still have that Helinand did not compose his Chronicon using Augustine’s two cities as a model. For the best introduction to Grosseteste, see James McEvoy, Robert Grosseteste, Great Medieval Thinkers (Oxford, 2000). James McEvoy, “Grosseteste, Robert,” in oghra 2: 1085–​1086. Robert Grosseteste: Hexaëmeron, ed. R.C. Dales and S. Gieben, ofm Cap. Auctores Britannici Medii Aevi 6 (London, 1982); hereafter cited as Gross. Hex., with page and line

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key to which works of Augustine Grosseteste at least knew of at that time.57 In his Hexaemeron 1.8.2-​3, in treating the eternity of the world, Grosseteste first cites civ. 11.4, followed by 10.31, but then turns to 12.10 and 13.16, designated by Grosseteste simply as paulo post, and then finishes up with 12.13,58 before continuing to present in brief the positions of Basil, Pliny, and Aristotle. Yet at other times, Grosseteste simply refers to Augustine as one authority among others, such as Hexaemeron 1.20.1, where Grosseteste exposits the “spirit of God” by referring first to Basil’s Hexaemeron, and then notes: “and Augustine recounted this same meaning in book eight of De civitate dei.”59 Grosseteste regularly gives book references for his citations to civ., but with other works of Augustine, Grosseteste at times is more lax. Thus in Hexaemeron 1.23.1, Grosseteste cites Augustine to exposit the “darkness” over the “abyss” simply noting: “As Augustine said” (Ut enim ait Augustinus), with then the quotation taken from Augustine’s Tractatus in evangelium Iohannis (Io. ev. tr.) 18.5.60 This is then followed by a citation from Augustine’s De Genesi contra Manichaeos (Gn. adv. Man.) 1.4.7, for which Grosseteste did give the book reference.61 Grosseteste also cited Augustine via the Glossa Ordinaria, as in Hexaemeron 8.28.1, without noting his intermediate source.62 At times too Grosseteste simply cited Augustine secundum Augustini sentenciam with no exact parallel in Augustine’s works, offering an example of what Douglas Grey called the “diffused Augustinian tradition,”63 even though Augustine is very much present. This phenomenon also points to the fact that for determining the actual knowledge and use of Augustine in a given author, one cannot rely on the indices of

numbers given in parentheses. For Grosseteste in general, see now James McEvoy, “Robert Grosseteste,” oghra, 2: 1085–​1086. 57 Tabula, ed. P.W. Rosemann; in Opera Roberti Grosseteste Lincolniensis, vol. 1, cccm 130 (1995); P.W. Rosemann, “Robert Grosseteste’s Tabula,” in Robert Grosseteste: New Perspectives on His Thought and Scholarship, ed. J. McEvoy (Turnhout: Brepols, 1995), 321–​55. 58 Gross. Hex. 1.8.2–​3 (59.23–​60.21). According to the edition, Grosseteste cited trin. 12, though the editors note the passage is actually taken from civ. 12,13; Gross. Hex. 1.8.3 (60.19–​21). This, I would surmise, was a scribal error, reading trinitate for civitate. Grossteste knew civ. well and had already been citing it. If he indeed wrote De trinitate, I think it was a simple slip, and does not reflect his knowledge of Augustine. 59 “Quod insinuat Basilius super hunc locum in Exameron, omelia secunda, et hanc eandem sentenciam recitat Augustinus in octavo libro De civitate dei.” Gross. Hex. 1.20.1 (79.21–​34). 60 Gross. Hex. 1.23.1 (82.19–​21). 61 “Augustinus quoque de hac eadem secta in libro I De Genesi contra Manicheos ait: …” Gross. Hex. 1.23.1 (82.30ff). 62 Gross. Hex. 8.28.1 (252.10–​15). 63 Gray, “Saint Augustine and Medieval Literature,” 19–​58.

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critical editions for accurately representing what that knowledge and use actually were. The editors of Grosseteste’s Hexaemeron, for example, list De spiritu et littera (spir. et litt.) and Questiones in Genesim (qu. vet. t.) as possible sources of Grosseteste’s indirect reference to Augustine in Hexaemeron 8.6.1, and 11.5.4 respectively, though in the first passage Grosseteste did not cite Augustine at all,64 and the reference to Augustine Grosseteste gave in Hexaemeron 11.5.4 is most likely taken from De Genesi ad litteram (Gn. litt.)65 The editors also note as other possible sources for the Hexaemeron, the Principia dialectice (dial.), qu. vet. t., and Sermo ad fratres in eremo 44. With regard to the passages where the editors cite the Questiones and the sermo as possible sources, Grosseteste did not cite Augustine, and the reference is given simply for parallels.66 The citation to the Principia dialectice is a bit more complex. Grosseteste’s text reads as follows: Ipsa enim materia, ut dicit Augustinus, est mutabilitas rerum mutabilium, capax formarum omnium in quas mutantur res mutabiles.67 The editors first give the reference to sermo 214.2, which reads: Illa enim quae dicitur informis rerum materies, formarum capax et subjecta operi Creatoris. …68 The passage the editors cited as an alternative, vel potius, from the Principia reads: Informis materia est mutabilitas mutabilium rerum capax omnium formarum.69 Yet the text that is closer to that of Grosseteste is John Scotus Eriugena’s De divisione naturae 3: Ita enim definitur materia est mutabilitas rerum mutabilium capax omnium formarum.70 Eriugena had first discussed this formulation in book one, where he ascribed it to a mixture of Plato’s Timaeus and conf.71 Eriugena therefore leads us back to the source, namely conf. 12.6: mutabilitas enim rerum mutabilium ipsa capax est formarum omnium in quas mutantur res mutabiles.72 Grosseteste was drawing directly from Augustine, since none of the 64 Gross. Hex. 8.6.1 (227.27–​28; spir. et litt. 28.48). 65 Gross. Hex. 11.5.4 (311.19–​23). 66 Gross. Hex. 8.10.2 (232.14–​19; qu. uet. t.); Gross. Hex. 8.3.1 (220,4–​10; Sermo ad fratres in Eremo 44). 67 Gross. Hex. 1.18.3 (78.22–​24). 68 Aug. s. 214.2 (pl 38: 1067). 69 Aug. dial. 5 (pl 32: 1410). 70 Johannes Scotus Eriugena, De divisione naturae 3 (pl 122: 701C). 71 “Multos de materia disputasse reperimus et mundanae, et divinae sophiae peritorum; sed paucorum testimonio uti sat est. Sanctus Augustinus in libris Confessionum informem materiem esse asserit mutabilitatem rerum mutabilium, omnium formarum capacem. Cui assentit Plato in Timeo, similiter informem materiam esse dicens formarum capacitatem. His ambobus sibimet consentientibus potest sic dici et definiri: Mutabilitas rerum mutabilium capax omnium formarum informis materia est.” Eriugena, De divisione naturae 1 (pl 122: 500C-​D). 72 Aug. conf. 12.6.

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other possible sources included the last phrase in quas mutantur res mutabiles, which, however, escaped the editors. The point here is not to criticize the editors for having missed this reference, but to point to the difficulty in charting Augustine’s reception even when using the best modern critical editions. Given Grosseteste’s extensive knowledge of Augustine, it may be rather a surprise to note that Augustine had a very limited role in Grosseteste’s commentary on Aristotle’s Physics. Composed for the most part between 1228 and 1232, Grosseteste’s is the first known commentary on the Physics, the origins of which are most likely to be placed during his teaching the Arts at Oxford in the first decade of the thirteenth century, though they could stem from the time of his chancellorship at Oxford from 1214 to 1221, or during his time as principle lecturer to the Oxford Franciscans from c. 1229 to his assuming the bishopric of Lincoln in 1235.73 Richard C. Dales, the editor of Grosseteste’s Commentary on the Physics, claimed that Augustine was “certainly the most important source of Grosseteste’s thought, not only in his Commentary on the Physics but also in his other works.”74 For Grosseteste’s Physics commentary, however, this assertion must be questioned. Grosseteste mentioned Augustine only five times in the entire commentary, and did not cite any particular text of Augustine. Aristotle, on the other hand, is referenced throughout, as though might be expected. Yet Grosseteste did not rely heavily on the works of previous scholars, and in this light, one could argue that Augustine, the only patristic author cited, was indeed Grosseteste’s “most important source”, for Augustine, excepting Aristotle, is the most frequently cited post-​classical authority in Grosseteste’s commentary. Grosseteste cited Averroes four times, Avicenna three times, the ‘Pythagoreans’ three times, and Zeno and Richard of St. Victor twice, though Plato is mentioned seven times. Twice Grosseteste combined the authority of Plato and Augustine once regarding number, equating number and wisdom in the divine mind,75 and once regarding the infinity of wisdom and the eternal reasons of things (raciones rerum eterne).76 He then referenced Augustine with regard to the Trinitarian structure of perfected reason77 and then to time, and relating time in Augustine to memory.78 The source of his discussion is conf. 11.26.32-​34, which he then related to conf.11.21.26, though without discussion of

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Roberti Grosseteste Commentarius in VIII libros physicorum Aristotelis,ed. Richard C. Dales (Boulder: University of Colorado Press, 1963), vi (hereafter abbreviated as: Gross. Comm.). 74 Gross. Comm. (xviii). 75 Gross. Comm. 3 (54). 76 Gross. Comm. 3 (61). 77 Gross. Comm. 3 (69). 78 Gross. Comm. 4 (88, 95).

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Augustine’s concept of distentio animae, reducing Augustine’s detailed analysis of time and time and memory to time being a measure of motion (mensura motus) and an affection left in the soul from the passing of things (affeccio relicta in anima ex transitu rerum mobilium). Grosseteste’s own position is far closer to that of Aristotle than to that of Augustine,79 and he certainly did not evidence a thorough knowledge of Augustine in his commentary on Aristotle’s Physics. Moreover, Augustine is not present at all in Grosseteste’s Commentary on the Posterior Analytics.80 Whereas Grosseteste used Augustine as his primary authority for his theological work, Augustine did not have a major influence, at least based on Grosseteste’s calling on Augustine’s authority, on Grosseteste’s philosophical work. The lack of Augustine in philosophy, at least to a certain extent, was a common feature of the high and later Middle Ages, particularly with respect to the Aristotelian tradition, as Maarten Hoenen has recently demonstrated.81 Even before the complete incorporation of Aristotle into the university curriculum, Augustine’s impact on natural philosophy was limited, which is evidenced in the Salernitan Questions edited by Brian Lawn, who claimed that as a whole the Salernitan Questions “are representative of the physica taught in the schools at the period c. 1200.”82 Here Augustine is mentioned only once, with the reference given by Lawn to civ. 21.4.83 Lawn notes Augustine as a possible source, together with others, an additional eleven times, with nine references to civ. and two to trin. Aristotle is mentioned only twice,84 though with seventeen citations as a possible source and an additional fifty-​seven citations to pseudo-​Aristotle. The prevalence of Aristotle is more evident in John Blund’s Tractatus de Anima, dating to the first decade of the thirteenth century during Blund’s regency in Arts at Oxford.85 Though Augustine is cited as an authority, Aristotle was Blund’s primary guide. Blund cited Augustine nine times, only three of 79

Cf. Paul Ricoeur, Time and Narrative, v. 1, trans. by Kathleen McLaughlin and David Pellauer (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1984), 5–​51. 80 Robert Grosseteste, Commentarius in Posteriorum Analyticorum libros, ed. P. Rossi, Corpus Philosophorum Medii Aevi, Testi e Studi 2 (Florence: Olschki, 1981). 81 Maarten Hoenen, “The Aristotelian Tradition,” in oghra 2: 554–​559. 82 The Prose Salernitan Questions. Edited from a Bodleian Manuscript (Auct. F. 3. 10), ed. Brian Lawn, Auctores Britannici Medii Aevi v (Oxford: British Academy, 1979), xix (hereafter abbreviated as Lawn, Sal. Quest.). 83 Lawn, Sal. Quest. W 1 (263.7). 84 Lawn, Sal.Quest. B 301; R 20 (143. 9, 346. 4). 85 Johannes Blund, Tractatus de Anima, ed. D.A. Callus and R. Hunt (London: Oxford University Press, 1970), viii (hereafter abbreviated as Joh. Bl. anima).

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which give specific reference: once to civ., lib.arb., and trin., though the reference to trin. is actually to conf. 10.11.18.86 Three of the remaining six references to Augustine combine the authority of Augustine and Aristotle, demonstrating their agreement87; another reference combines the authority of Augustine and Jerome, together with aliis auctoribus to prove that the soul, existing in the body, is oppressed by the flesh,88 which is then followed by a quotation from Aristotle’s Posterior Analytics; Blund then draws on the authority of Boethius and Augustine, and others, that free will is stronger (magis viget) in angels than in humans89; and the final citation to Augustine is his presentation of Plato’s opinion of the world soul, which Blund claims Augustine neither affirmed nor denied, a position that is evident, as the editors point out, in Augustine’s De consensu evangelistarum 1.23.35; in Blund’s opinion, the world soul is nothing other than the vivifying and ruling of the Holy Spirit.90 The editors have noted an additional thirty instances where Augustine was a likely source, though he remained uncited.91 Blund’s use of Augustine contrasts markedly with that of Aristotle, whom Blund cited explicitly forty-​two times, with an additional 125 instances as an uncited source. Aristotle, not Augustine, was Blund’s principal authority for his treatment of the soul, though Blund seems to have endeavored to bring in Augustine’s authority, blending it with his basically Aristotelian approach. A more thorough and detailed knowledge of Augustine than is evident in Grosseteste’s Physics commentary or Blund’s commentary on De Anima is seen in Thomas Aquinas’ Quaestiones de Anima. These were a series of disputed questions held most likely in Paris in the second half of the academic year 1268–​9, during Thomas’ second sojourn in Paris.92 Here Thomas cited Augustine thirty-​three times, the most frequently cited authority after Aristotle with 144 citations. Plato is in third place regarding frequency of citation with sixteen, followed by Pseudo-​Dionysius with twelve and Averroes and Avicenna

86 Joh.Bl. anima, 25.2.346 (94.25–​6). 87 E.g.: “… tam Aristoteles quam Augustinus …” Joh.Bl. anima 3. 34 (9.24–​5). 88 Joh.Bl. anima, 25.3.367 (101.15–​7). 89 Joh.Bl. anima, 26.2.402 (111.25ff). 90 Joh.Bl. anima 25.2.360 (98.18–​23). 91 These include, in addition to civ., lib. arb., trin., conf., and cons. eu., c. ep. Man., ep. Io. tr., Gn. litt., an. et or. and Io. eu. tr., and there is one further indication that the ps.-​Augustine De spiritu et anima was a possible source.Joh.Bl. anima 2.1.16 (5.3–​6.3). 92 Thomas Aquinas, Quaestiones de Anima, ed. James H. Robb, Studies and Texts 14 (Toronto: Pontifical Institute of Medieval Studies, 1968), 27–​36 (hereafter abbreviated as Thom.Aq. anima).

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each with six. Moreover, Thomas cited from eleven works of Augustine,93 with reference to Gn. litt. the most frequent with eight citations, followed by trin. with seven, and civ. with six. He routinely gave book references for civ., Gn. litt., and trin., and only six times did Thomas reference Augustine without giving a title. Moreover, Thomas exhibited a detailed knowledge of Augustine, as seen in question nineteen, whether a sensitive power remains in separated souls, when Thomas responded to the sixth argument pro based on Gn. litt. 1294 by arguing that Augustine had retracted this position in his retr., and Thomas then quoted the passage.95 Likewise in question twenty-​one, dealing with the issue of whether separated souls can suffer punishment from corporeal fire, the nineteenth argument pro cited Gn. litt. 12 to affirm that the substance of souls in hell are not believed to be corporeal, but spiritual,96 to which Thomas replied that Augustine stated such in the sense of inquiry, not in that of determining a question, and in any case he had revoked such an opinion in civ. 21.97 Further, Thomas referenced the pseudo-​Augustinian De spiritu et anima three times, though each time he warned his reader that it was not a work of Augustine,98 and in question twelve, suggested it was authored by “some Cistercian,”99 which we know it was, Alcherius Claravellensis. Even in a philosophical work such as his Quaestiones de Anima, the ‘Aristotelian’ Thomas demonstrated his erudition with respect to Augustine’s works, which served as Thomas’ primary authority after Aristotle.100 The inferred dichotomy between “Aristotelianism” and “Augustinianism” has shaped portrayals of thirteenth century philosophy for over a century. Scholars from De Wulf and Gilson to Steven Marrone have, with considerable variation in terms of characterizing and demarcating various subdivisions of these two general categories, and including the influence of Jewish and Muslim thought resulting in at times the addition of a third ‘school’, Latin Averroism, considered scholastic philosophy to have been generally divided between these two, 93

Confessiones, De civitate dei, De cura pro mortuis gerenda, De divination aewmonum, De genesi ad litteram, De immortalitate animae, De natura boni, De amimae quantitate, De trinitate, Enchiridion, and the Retractationes. 94 Thom.Aq. anima 19 (246; Gn. ad lit. 12.32). 95 Thom.Aq. anima 19 (250–​251; retr. 2.24). 96 Thom.Aq. anima 21 (267; Gn. ad lit. 12.32). 97 Thom.Aq. anima 21 (271; civ. 21.10). 98 Thom.Aq. anima 9 (142.149); ibid., 12 (177.182); ibid., 19 (245.250). 99 “… liber iste De spiritu et anima non est Augustini, sed dicitur cujusdam Cisterciensis fuisse …” Thom.Aq. anima 12 (182). 100 Cf. Michael Dauphinas, Barry David, and Matthew Levering eds., Aquinas the Augustinian (Washington, D.C.: Catholic University of America Press, 2007).

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or three, philosophical schools, with the Aristotelians represented most stereotypically by Albert the Great and Thomas Aquinas with Bonaventure, John Pecham, and Henry of Ghent standing for the Augustinians.101 Yet the historical validity of such bifurcation, when one analyzes in detail the arguments of the scholastics, should be called into question based on the recognition that the labels are rarified terms employed by philosophers, theologians, and historians to describe historical phenomena that may or may not have had anything to do at all with the historical, or received, Aristotle or Augustine. Other scholars have resisted the seduction of such categorization. Dales, in his study of the rational soul in the thirteenth century, asserted that he was not “concerned with classifying writers … or in determining whether they were Avicennists, Augustinians, or Aristotelians—​indeed, they were all indebted to some degree to all three of these auctoritates,”102 and in his study of the question regarding the eternity of the world, Dales concluded that he did not see that there is anything to be gained by referring to our authors as Augustinians or Aristotelians in this matter. All authors cited and used both authorities extensively, and I have found no one who accepted intact the thought of either, a circumstance which was intensified by the custom of citing snippets of authorities and often ignoring context.103 Dales’ insights are supported by the examples given above, with the “Aristotelian” Thomas as the most “Augustinian.” Despite the apparent lack of Augustine’s influence in the Aristotelian tradition, Augustine served as a foundational text for major philosophical questions. As Dales noted concerning the eternity of the world, The three principle authors to whom medieval Latin philosophers were indebted for their knowledge of ancient thought on the eternity of the world were Plato, Augustine, and Boethius. Although others were recovered during the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, these three were known uninterruptedly, and until the second quarter of the thirteen century they

101 John Francis Quinn, The Historical Constitution of St. Bonaventure’s Philosophy (Toronto, 1973), 17–​99; cf.: Steven P. Marrone, The Light of Thy Countenance: Science and the Knowledge of God in the Thirteenth Century, 2 vols. (Leiden, 2001). 102 Richare C. Dales, The Problem of the Rational Soul in the Thirteenth Century, bsih 65 (Leiden, 1995), 1. 103 Richard C. Dales, Medieval Discussions of the Eternity of the World, bsih 18 (Leiden, 1990), 259.

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provided the context, the point of departure, and many of the stock arguments on both sides of the question. Even after the recovery of Aristotle’s natural philosophy and the translation of medieval Jewish and Muslim works into Latin, these three authors maintained their preeminent position among the authorities.104 Augustine was likewise the foundational authority for philosophers holding to the unicity of the soul regarding the question of the rational soul, and for epistemologies relying on divine illumination.105 In short, Augustine was a standard authority for various philosophical issues debated in the thirteenth through fifteenth centuries, despite the relative absence of Augustine from commentaries on Aristotle’s works as such. In this light, one could say that with respect to high and late medieval philosophical literature, Augustine was cited as an authority without an attempt to philosophize in keeping with Augustine’s thought. In other words, Augustine’s authority and texts were foundational for philosophy, but in general no scholastic pursued natural philosophy based on a distinctive appropriation of Augustine. There could however, be exceptions to this general rule. Henry of Ghent, for example, according to Raymond Macken, strove to give a satisfactory scientific foundation to the thought of his beloved Augustine. At the same time he represents a later evolution and a personal appropriation of Augustine’s thought, influenced as well by some ideas of Aristotle, Avicenna, and other medieval scholastics. Indeed Henry’s development of the Augustinian tradition assumes a personal and daring form …106 though Pasquale Porro has argued that the critical edition of Henry’s works, still in progress, has necessitated a re-​ evaluation of Henry’s traditional Augustinianism, recognizing that Henry “sought to reconcile traditional Augustinian theories with some of the basic principles of Aristotelian epistemology and Avicennian ontology, thereby giving rise to a complex and original

1 04 Ibid., 3. 105 Lydia Schumacher, Divine Illumination. The History and Future of Augustine’s Theory of Knowledge (Oxford, 2011). 106 Raymond Macken, O.F.M., “Henry of Ghent and Augustine,” in Ad Litteram. Authoritative Texts and Their Medieval Readers, ed. Mark D. Jordan and Kent Emery Jr. (Notre Dame, 1992), 251–​274; 270.

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synthesis.”107 The relative lack of true appropriation of Augustine by the majority of scholastics could have been the result of the fact that Augustine did not have a place in the university curriculum, even though he did exert an influence in elementary education.108 Grosseteste, therefore, fits within the general pattern of Augustine’s reception with respect to medieval philosophical literature: there is no basis to claim that in this context Grosseteste had any special knowledge of Augustine at all. Augustine was, however, Grosseteste’s primary authority in his theological works, as is evident not only in his Hexaemeron as seen above, but likewise in his De decem mandatis and Expositio in Epistolam Sancti Pauli ad Galatas. In his De decem mandatis, Grosseteste cited Augustine sixty-​seven times, the overwhelming leader among Grosseteste’s non-​Scriptural authorities. Jerome is the next most frequently cited authority with sixteen citations. Of these sixty-​ seven, forty-​seven give specific reference to the work and often book, though Grosseteste never gives references to chapters within books. Thirty, namely almost half, of the sixty-​seven citations are found in Grosseteste’s treatment of commandments eight through ten. Nupt. et conc. is the most frequently cited work of Augustine, Grosseteste having cited it ten times, followed by c. Iul. and civ. each with seven citations, and five citations of various letters of Augustine.109 Grosseteste cited from twenty-​two separate works of Augustine, only six of which he did not name by title.110 Three citations are unknown, meaning neither the editors nor myself could find the reference;111 twice 107 Pasquale, Porro, “Henry of Ghent,” in Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, online at: http://​ plato.stanf​ord.edu/​entr​ies/​henry-​ghent/​, 2007. 108 See Mitchell Harris, “Education,” in oghra 2: 922–​928. 109 In Grossteste’s De Decem Mandatis 6,19 (ed. R.C. Dales and E.B. King, Auctores Britannici Medii Aevi 10 (London: Oxford University Press, 1987); hereafter abbreviated as Gross. De dec.man.), the editors give a reference to c. Iul. for Grosseteste’s citation prefaced by … ex verbis Augustini in eodem libro dicentis …; Gross. De dec. man. 6.19 (73.32). They also include quotations marks at the beginning of the quotation, with no ending quotation marks. They give no book reference within c. Iul., though the previous citation to the work they do give the reference as c. Iul. 5.16.59, which indeed is the preceeding citation to the one in question here. Grosseteste was being a bit unclear. The quotation is found in nupt. et conc. 1.14.16 (pl 44: 423). This may have been a simple slip of the mind on Grosseteste’s part, since the work he cited previous to his quotation from c. Iul. 5.16.59 is nupt. et conc. 1.4.5, to which his in eodem libro refers; he may have added the quotation from c. Iul. 5.16.59 later, without having then corrected his citation. 110 Perf. ius., ep. 153, ep. 190, ep. 243, ench. and s. 350. 111 Gross. De dec. man. 1.1 (6.9–​12); 8.7 (82.21–​23); 9 et 10.9 (88.33–​89.9). No reference was given by the editors for this last citation, nor did they note it as non invenitur. I have not been able to find a direct reference, but the passage does parallel Augustine c. ep. Pel. 3.23 (pl 44: 605–​606).

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where Grosseteste cited Augustine without naming a work the editors have noted parallel passages as possible sources, once to trin.,112 and once to c. Iul.;113 and as mentioned above, the editors offered four possibilities as the source(s) behind Grosseteste’s citing Augustine secundum sentenciam Augustini.114 The Hypomnesticon is the only Pseudo-​Augustinian work Grosseteste cited in De decem mandatis, which he did twice.115 In short, Grosseteste demonstrated an impressive knowledge of Augustine’s works in breadth and depth. Moreover, he evidenced a facility with Augustine’s texts that surpassed the mere citing of standard quotations. In De decem mandatis 9, for example, Grossteste constructed his text by numerous quotations from Augustine. Thus after introducing the theme of the ninth commandment, namely the one about not coveting your neighbor’s wife, or house etc., Grosseteste began by quoting Galatians 5:17, though he cited Ephesians.116 Then he started with quoting a phrase from c. Iul. 4.14.65,117 and then after six 1 12 Gross. De dec. man. 4.19 (46.9–​11). 113 Gross. De dec. man. 8.6 (82.19–​20). 114 Gross. De dec. man. 2.8 (26.11–​22). The editors note parallels to nat. b. 7; ep.120,2; ench.11; and agon. 7. Grosseteste could well have had all these passages in mind. In his Glossarum in sancti Pauli Epistolas Fragmenta, treating 1 Thess. 4,2, Grosseteste noted: “… sicut haberi potest ex uerbis beati Augustini in libro De uera religione et libro De Trinitate et libro X et 13o Confessionum.” Gross. Gloss. Ad 1 Thess. (ed. Dales, 225.60–​62.). 115 Gross. De dec. man. 9.2 (85.28–​86.2). The two citations are to Hypomnesticon 4.1.1 and then immediately another quotation from Hypomnesticon 4.4.4. 116 Gross. De dec.man. 9.2 (85.10–​12). 117 The editors give the reference simply to c. Iul. 4.65, leaving out the chapter reference. Moreover, they designate the passaged quoted with quotation marks as follows: “ut testatur Augustinus, ‘sive consentientes mente sive repugnantes impellit ad dilectacionem voluptatis in senciendo vel sciendo vel dominando, et hec concupiscencia dicitur lex membrorum et lex peccati et tyrannus carnis et peccati fomes. Hec in nondum renais est culpa. In renatis autem et caritate informatis est origianlis peccati sola pena. Hec non est in nostra potestate quin insurgat, velimus nolimus, etiam contra racionis imperium. Hec non est in natura hominis a Deo conditore creata, sed de primo primi hominis peccato nata.’ ” Gross. Hex. 9.2 (85.13–​21). The problem here is that only the first line is from c. Iul. 4.14.65, which reads as follows: “Necessitas sentiendi est, quando sensibus nostris etiam quae nolumus ingeruntur. Libido autem sentiendi est, de qua nunc agimus, quae nos ad sentiendum, sive consentientes mente, sive repugnantes, appetitu carnalis voluptatis impellit. Haec est contraria dilectioni sapientiae, haec virtutibus inimica. Hoc malo, quantum attinet ad ejus eam partem qua sibi sexus uterque miscetur, bene utuntur nuptiae, cum conjuges procreant filios per illam, nihilque faciunt propter illam. Hanc si voluisses vel valuisses a sentiendi vivacitate, utilitate, necessitate discernere, videres quam superfluo tam multa dixisses. Non enim ait Dominus, Qui viderit mulierem, sed, qui viderit ad concupiscendum, jam moechatus est eam in corde suo [Matth. 5, 28]. Ecce sensum videndi a libidine sentiendi, si pervicax non sis, breviter aperteque discrevit. Illud Deus condidit, instruendo corpus humanum: illud diabolus seminavit, persuadendo

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lines in the critical edition further on, Grosseteste cited one sentence from nupt. et conc. 1.1.1, followed immediately with another sentence from nupt. et conc. 1.5.6 and a quotation of four lines in the critical edition from nupt. et conc. 1.12.13.118 He then gave parallel passages from the Hypomnesticon 4.1.1 and 4.4.4.119 Grosseteste then returned to nupt. et conc., quoting five lines of text in the critical edition.120 Ten lines later, he quotes four lines in the edition from c. Iul. 2.3.7, adds his own comments of four lines, and then presents a string of quotations from c. Iul. 3.16.30; 4.2.9; and 5.7.38, taking thirteen lines in the edition.121 This series of quotations could not have been taken from an intermediate source, giving evidence of Grosseteste’s direct knowledge of Augustine’s works, and all three of the texts Grosseteste cited here he also had listed in his Tabula.122 In his Expositio in Epistolam Sancti Pauli ad Galatas, Grosseteste followed Augustine as his primary theological guide as well, yet here we find him using other patristic sources as his exegetical guide. Grosseteste cited Augustine thirty-​six times;123 he cited Jerome 125 times. Of his thirty-​six citations to Augustine, Grosseteste cited Expositio ad Galatas only three times, and he never did so giving the name of the work or a specific reference.124 Grosseteste cited Jerome’s Commentarius in Epistolam ad Galatas 119 times. In his Expositio,

peccatum.” c. Iul. 4.14.65 (pl 44: 770). The term peccati fomes does not appear in the works of Augustine. There is a close parallel between Grosseteste’s et hec concupiscencia dicitur lex membrorum et lex peccati et tyrannus carnis et peccati fomes, but it is not Augustine; rather, in Innocent iii’s De contemptu mundi we read: “In carnali quippe commercio, rationis sopitur intuitus, ut ignorantia seminetur: libidinis irritatur pruritus, ut iracundia propagetur: voluptatis satiatur affectus, ut concupiscentia contrahatur. Hic est tyrannus carnis, lex membrorum, fomes peccati, languor naturae, pabulum mortis, sine quo nemo nascitur, sine quo nullus moritur: qui si quando transit reatu, semper tamen remanet actu.” Innocent iii, De contemptu mundi 1.4 (pl 217: 704B). The point to be made here is modern critical editions cannot be relied upon for determining reception. The apparatus fontium is only a guide to the intertextual references, at times more precise and accurate, and at times less so. To determine precisely how Grosseteste used Augustine, one would have to analyze not only every citation, but every reference given in the critical editions; indeed, one would need to return to the actual manuscripts Grosseteste had before his eyes. 118 Gross. Hex. 9.2 (85.21–​28). 119 Gross. Hex, 9.2 (85.28–​86.2). 120 Gross. Hex. 9.3 (86.8–​13). 121 Gross. Hex. 9.4 (86.20–​87.8). 122 Rosemann, “Robert Grosseteste’s Tabula,” 340–​342. 123 Robert Grosseteste, Expositio in Epistolam Sancti Pauli ad Galatas, ed. J. McEvoy, cccm 130 (1995), hereafter abbreviated as Gross. Exp. ad Gal., Intro., 9. 124 Gross. Exp. ad Gal. 3.15 (85.498–​499); 3.21 (89.646–​647); 5.39 (158.1025–​1026).

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Grosseteste also cited the Greek Fathers John Chrysostom and Theophylactus. He cited Chrysostom’s In Epistolam ad Galatas commentarius twenty-​eight times, but by name only eight times; Theophylactus’s Commentarius in Epistolam ad Galatas is cited sixty-​four times but never by name, being referred to only as expositor graecus.125 As McEvoy stated: “Grosseteste was the first scholar to attempt to read and exploit all the commentaries available, for the light they might throw on the interpretation of the epistle.”126 Yet then how could I claim that Augustine was Grosseteste’s primary theological guide? As McEvoy further clarified, pointing to the parallels between Grosseteste’s Expositio and his De decem mandatis: Now the Augustinian theme of charity in practice as being the sole valid interpreter of the senses of Scripture … runs like a dominant theme through both works of Grosseteste, accompanied by the doctrine of amor ordinatus and the reduction of the commandments to one, which is inseparably the love of God and of the neighbor—​the Johannine theme so beloved of Augustine.127 Thus Grosseteste appealed to Augustine against Jerome regarding the question of justification through the law. In his Commentarius in Epistolam ad Galatas, Jerome had explained that “it is possible, therefore, that there is someone who is just and nevertheless is without faith in Christ.”128 Grosseteste denied that Jerome’s true meaning was that one could become iustus sine fide, and he did so with Augustine as proof.129 It is not just the number of citations of Augustine compared with other authorities that must be analyzed to discern Augustine’s reception, but also the weight of such citations, and the use thereof. 1 25 Gross. Exp. ad Gal. Intro. (ed. McEvoy, 12–​14). 126 Gross. Exp. ad Gal. Intro. (ed. McEvoy, 8). 127 Gross. Exp. ad Gal. Intro. (ed. McEvoy, 16). 128 “Potest ergo fieri, ut sit aliquis iustus et tamen sine fide Christi.” Hieronymus, Commentarius in Epistolam ad Galatas 2 (pl 26: 384); as cited by Gross., Exp. ad Gal. 3.15 (84.473–​85.476). 129 “Sed numquid haec sententia Hieronymi uera est, scilicet aliquem posse esse iustum absque fide Christi, adhuc secundum quod iustitia proprie et uere dicta est uirtus animi, rectitudo uidelicet uoluntatis seruata propter se? Sed uoluntas nullo modo recta est quae a suo factore et redempore Christo, qui est uera rectitudo et uera iustitia, distorta est; qua propter non potest esse haec iustitia sine fide diligente; quod etiam Augustinus ostendit euidenter in pluribus locis, uidelicet quod infidelibus non potest esse uirtus aliqua cum infidelitate … Immo uero, ut ostendit Augustinus, fides ex gratia datur, et non ex meritis misericordiam consecutus sum, ut essem fidelis. Quicquid igitur uoluerit per sermonem suum intelligere Hieronymus, firmiter credendum quod fides confertur gratis et non ex credentis praecedentibus bonis meritis.” Gross. Exp. in Gal. 3.15 (85.477–​502).

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While Grosseteste without question used Jerome for his guide to the text of Galatians, Grosseteste’s appropriation of Augustine was still the over-​riding interpretive factor for his commentary. This holds true for his other exegetical works as well, including his Glossarum in sancti Pauli Epistolas Fragmenta130 and commentary on Psalm 100 of his Super Psalterium, his lengthiest biblical commentary.131 What then can we say about Grosseteste’s reception of Augustine in general? First of all, Grosseteste demonstrated an extensive knowledge of Augustine’s works that places him among the very best Augustine scholars of the high Middle Ages. Moreover, his command of his sources is impressive as well, most of which he knew first hand. This knowledge he seems to have acquired, based on his actual use of Augustine, from the time of his inception as Master of Theology, namely, from 1229/​30.132 In his Hexaëmeron, dated to the years 1232–​1235, Grosseteste showed an extensive knowledge of Augustine, more so than in his De decem mandatis of c. 1230.133 Certainly Grosseteste did not begin reading Augustine in 1229/​30, as his Tabula witnesses, but there is no evidence that he had acquired an extensive knowledge of Augustine’s texts before this date, based on his Physics Commentary and that on the Posterior Analytics. We must be careful not to read the clear influence of Augustine as evident in his later theological work back into his earlier philosophical works. Yet we can say that by 1230, shortly after Helinand had completed his Chronicon, Grosseteste had acquired an erudite and extensive knowledge of Augustine, based on Augustine’s own works. 1.3 Considerations What then can we say about the reception of Augustine as such in the thirteenth century? Perhaps the first point to stress is that to discern Augustine’s reception, we cannot rely on critical editions, which so often seek to demonstrate the erudition of the editors rather than that of the authors being edited.

130 Gross. Gloss. (ed. Dales, 177–​231). This work consists of glosses and short commentaries on Romans, 1 and 2 Corinthians, Ephesians, Philippians (consisting only of one gloss on Phil. 1:12), Colossians, 1 Thessalonians, Timothy, Titus, and Hebrews. 131 James Ginther, Master of the Sacred Page. A Study of the Theology of Robert Grosseteste, c. 1229/​30–​1235 (Aldershot, 2004), 155. Grosseteste’s Super Psalterium has not been edited. Ginther provides a transcription of Grosseteste’s exposition of Ps. 100 from Bologna, Biblioteca dell’Archiginnasio ms 983, fol. 168vb-​173vb in the appendix to his monograph; Ginther, Master of the Sacred Page, 193–​211. 132 Rosemann, “Robert Grosseteste’s Tabula,” 329–​330. 133 Gross. Hex., Intro. (vii).

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Medieval authors chose when to cite Augustine, and when not to, a fact that renders seeking Augustine’s reception by means of explicit citation precarious. Second, pseudo-​ Augustinian texts were received as authentic. For Grosseteste, as well as for Thomas and Lombard, the De fide ad Petrum was an authentic text of Augustine, even as Thomas recognized at times spurious attributions. What for us today is Pseudo-​Augustinian, was for the thirteenth century genuine and authentic, and this must play a role in our understandings of Augustine’s reception without allowing the hubris of our modern knowledge to affect our understandings of Augustine’s thirteenth-​century reception: the thirteenth-​century reception of pseudo-​Augustinian texts is central to our understanding of the thirteenth-​century reception of Augustine as such. Third, it was only in the early fourteenth century when Augustine once again assumed the designation pater noster that we find the combination of the academic scholarly erudition of Augustine’s texts with a religio-​cultural appropriation of Augustine as the model for the religious life, bringing about a qualitative and quantitative shift in the knowledge, use, and appropriation of Augustine. What we find in the thirteenth century is, to adapt the insight of Damasus Trapp, an Augustine without an Augustinianism.134 Before the fundamental shift in Augustine’s reception in the late medieval Augustinian Renaissance, Helinand, even before the great scholastics, represented the apogee of Augustine’s reception, as a product of the twelfth-​century Augustinian Renaissance, and as such, has far more to reveal to us about the “pre-​scholastic” intellectual world than one might think a “mere” encyclopedist would. If we view Helinand as “only” an encyclopedist, or as “only” a “compiler,” we will fail to understand Helinand, his work, and his world. The encyclopedists must be included in our investigations, interpretations, and portrayals of the intellectual history of the thirteenth century. And finally, if we desire to understand the reception of Augustine in the Middle Ages, the thirteenth century is a pivotal period of transition, and was so even before the flowering of scholasticism in Paris. Yet if we desire to understand the reception of Augustine in the early thirteenth century, which provides the basis for any attempt to discern his influence or impact, we have our work cut out for us. We must ourselves return to the manuscripts and their marginalia, and we must do so with the recognition that citing Augustine in 134 “What happened in the Early, in the High, and in the Late Middle Ages may, who knows, be pressed into the following somewhat daring formula: early scholasticism had both an Augustine and an Augustinianism of its own; Aristotelic Thomism had an Augustine but no Augustinianism; late scholasticism rediscovered Augustine within an Augustinianism of its own!” Trapp, “Harvest of Medieval Theology,” 150.

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and of itself doesn’t mean all that much. How was Augustine being cited? How was Augustine being used? How was Augustine known? What does Helinand’s and Grosseteste’s ‘cutting and pasting’ of Augustine really mean aside from being an interesting observation? Somehow Lombard’s systematic compilation of Augustinian sententiae in his Sentences is rather more straightforward. In Lombard’s wake, what are we to make of it all? Only with much further work, and much further pondering, will we come to a point when we can even begin to describe historically Augustine’s reception in the early thirteenth century and the meaning thereof for our understanding of the textual and intellectual history of the high and later Middle Ages. These four considerations then are foundational for discerning the reception of Augustine as such. Did, though, the level of erudition change in the Italian Renaissance? Were, perhaps, Helinand and Grosseteste more “Augustinian” than was Petrarch, the “father of humanism”? If Helinand and Grosseteste offer us two lenses into the reception of Augustine, what light then does Petrarch shed on the issue? 2

Petrarch

As the “father of humanism,” if not of the Renaissance, Petrarch enjoys perhaps unique status among late medieval authors. Yet Petrarch is a difficult figure to pin down. For our present purposes, he seemed, on the surface, anyway, to have had a special relationship to Augustine, given the role of Augustine in his Secretum and the role of the Confessions in his ascent of Mont Ventoux.135 Yet one of the first points scholars have made when interpreting the Secretum is that the Augustinus of the Secretum is Petrarch’s literary fiction.136 Therefore, 135 See Hans Baron, Petrarch’s Secretum. Its Making and Its Meaning (Cambridge, MA, 1985); Carol Quillen, Rereading the Renaissance. Petrarch, Augustine, and the Language of Humanism (Ann Arbor, 1998); Meredith Gill, Augustine in the Italian Renaissance (Cambridge, 2005), 94–​124; and A. Lee, Petrarch and St. Augustine. Classical Scholarship, Christian Theology and the Origins of the Renaissance in Italy, bsih 210 (Leiden, 2012). 136 Charles Trinkaus argued that the Augustinus of the Secretum “… is not the saint of the Confessiones (whose vicissitudes Petrarch more closely identifies with his own in the role of Franciscus) but the voice of Christian orthodoxy speaking in the language of Seneca’s stoicism and preaching rational control of one’s emotions …” Trinkaus, The Scope of Renaissance Humanism (Ann Arbor, 1983), 13; “If we turn to the writings of the historical St. Augustine, it will be recalled that he engaged in heated polemic against the very positions that Petrarch is putting in the mouth of Augustinus in his dialogue … It is striking the way Petrarch proceeds, for here he identifies the Franciscus of the dialogue with the historical St. Augustine.” Trinkaus, In our Image and Likeness. Humanity and Divinity in

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or so it seems, there is no reason, or need, to analyze Petrarch’s Augustinianism or the validity of describing him as an Augustinian. This, however, is to fall back into the historical fallacy of basing one’s interpretation of a historical reception of Augustine on the contemporary interpreter’s own interpretation of Augustine. To what extent, then, is Petrarch’s creation of Augustine any different from the general late medieval creation of Augustine?137 The Augustine of Petrarch is certainly not the Augustine of the Augustinian Hermits, at least at first glance as we will see below, but is the phenomenon any different? Petrarch created a humanistic Augustine, and the oesa created an eremitical Augustine. The point is not which creation is most authentic, but rather the focus should be on the creation itself, that is, the fiction; in this light, we need to ask, to what extent was Petrarch’s Augustine authentically Augustine for Petrarch? Here too we must keep in mind three distinct hermeneutics.138 There is first of all the contemporary scholar’s interpretation of Augustine. Second, there is the contemporary scholar’s interpretation of Petrarch. And finally, there is Petrarch’s interpretation of Augustine. The point is not to compare the contemporary scholar’s interpretation of Augustine with Petrarch’s, but rather to come to an understanding of Petrarch’s own hermeneutic of Augustine. The “historical Augustine” has no real role here if we want to understand Petrarch’s Augustine. The point is not the interpretation of Augustine, but the interpretation of Petrarch and his Augustine, and what that has to do, if anything, with a late medieval Augustinianism.139 Italian Humanist Thought, 2 vols. (Chicago, 1970), vol. 1, 7. David Marsh in the most recent treatment asserts: “… it is clear that Franciscus and Augustinus represent the author’s own contrasting viewpoints, rather than the historical Petrarch and Augustine.” David Marsh, “The Burning Question. Crisis and Cosmology in the Secret,” in Petrarch. A Critical Guide to the Complete Works, ed. Victoria Kirkham and Armando Maggi (Chicago, 2009), 211–​217; 212, and G. Mazzotta seems to agree, claiming that in the Secretum, Petrarch “casts Augustine as a fictional character.” G. Mazzotta, “Petrarca, Francesco,” in oghra 3:1533–​ 1536; 1534. Carol Quillen, however, disagrees: “As the two interlocutors discuss the right way to live and how to surmount spiritual malaise, both rely upon frequent references to classical authors. ‘Franciscus’ is clearly based on Petrarch himself and ‘Augustinus’ upon the historical Augustine, one of Petrarch’s favorite authors.” Quillen, “Plundering the Egyptians: Petrarch and Augustine’s De doctrina christiana,” in Edward D. English, ed., Reading and Wisdom. The De doctrina christiana of Augustine in the Middle Ages (Notre Dame, 1995), 153–​171; 160. 137 E.L. Saak, “The Creation of Augustinian Identity in the Later Middle Ages,” Aug(L) 49 (1999): 109–​164, 251–​286. 1 38 Cf. Saak, Creating Augustine, 192–​194. 139 Petrarch had a central role to play in Åke Berkvall’s Augustinian Perspectives in the Renaissance, Studia Anglistica Uppsaliensia 117 (Uppsala, 2001). Yet Berkvall focused on

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Petrarch, however, confronts us not only with the problem of Augustine’s reception in the Renaissance, but also with the problem of Renaissance Humanism and Augustine’s role therein. Was there a Renaissance Augustinianism as distinct from a late medieval Augustinianism, and if so, how is it characterized? In 1944, Kristeller published an article on Augustine and the early Renaissance, in which he laid out the centrality of Augustine to Renaissance Humanism and Platonism.140 Here Petrarch had a central role, for as Kristeller argued, The return from nature to man, which is so characteristic of Petrarch, and the whole emphasis on man which became so important throughout the Renaissance, is here, in its origin, connected with the name and doctrine of Augustine.141 Yet it was not so much personal religion Augustine held up before Petrarch’s eyes that was of influence,142 as it was the reception of Augustine as a Christian classic in the fields of “philosophy, literature, and education.”143 In this light, for Petrarch Augustine is considered as a part of the rediscovered ancient literature itself; his works are collected in Petrarch’s library by the side of those of the Latin poets, historians, orators, and philosophers; he becomes, along with the other Fathers of the Church, a Christian classic; and the study of their works ceases to be only theology in the traditional sense, and becomes the study of sacred literature. This literary attitude of Petrarch toward Augustine determined that of most other humanists, and it manifested itself in several ways. Above all, the humanists observed that Augustine and the other Fathers were themselves imbued with classical learning. Hence, when the humanists had to

140 1 41 142 143

parallels of doctrine and did not sufficiently take into account the historical understanding of Augustine and his historical reception. Paul Oskar Kristeller, “Augustine and the Early Renaissance,” in Paul Oskar Kristeller, Studies in Renaissance Thought and Letters I, Storia e Letteratura, Raccolta di Studi e Testi 54 (Rome, 1956), 355–​372; originally published in Review of Religion viii (1944), 339–​358. Ibid., 362. “Petrarch’s personal form of religion had no direct influence upon his followers among the humanists, and his emphasis on man, although accepted and developed by many of them, did not retain its original connection with Augustine.” Ibid. Ibid., 356.

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defend their own work against the attacks of contemporary theologians, they liked to quote the Fathers both as examples and supporters of their own intellectual ideal, and they came at last to consider the Fathers as their own precursors.144 Consequently, Augustine, or rather Petrarch’s reception of Augustine and the influence Augustine’s works exerted on Petrarch, stand at the very origins of the Renaissance. Thus the interpretation of Augustine was a catalytic factor not only in the emergence of Reformation theology, but also of Renaissance humanism. It is, therefore, all the more unfortunate that Kristeller’s comments in 1944 are still by and large valid today: The history of Augustine’s “fortune” and influence has not yet been made the subject of an adequate comprehensive study. The basic facts are fairly well known, and a few specific phases and aspects have been studied in greater detail, especially for the earlier Middle Ages, for the Reformation period, and for seventeenth-​century France. Augustine’s influence on the early Renaissance has so far attracted less attention.145 By making such an assertion, I am not ignoring or undervaluing the very significant research that has taken place since 1944. I am simply pointing out that there is still much to be done. Even Meredith Gill in her Augustine in the Italian Renaissance, which is not only an impressive scholarly achievement that should serve as the point of departure for all future work, but is also perhaps the most comprehensive treatment of Augustine in the Renaissance to date, pointed out that “Ever since Paul Oskar Kristeller’s searching essay on Augustine and the early Renaissance, there has been no single study of the saint in the early modern era.”146 While this fact may cause one to sit around and ponder why this has been so, it should also serve as a challenge for future research. If we desire to understand Augustine’s influence on the origins of the Renaissance, and on the origins of Renaissance humanism in particular, there is no better place to start than with Petrarch in the hope of discovering a Renaissance Augustinianism. While it could be tempting to view Petrarch’s novelty, and the originality of humanism, as being based on a return to the classics, and to see his interpretation of Augustine as fitting within the category, we must be cautious. We must 1 44 Ibid., 362–​363. 145 Ibid., 356. 146 Gill, Augustine in the Italian Renaissance, 8.

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remember that the classics as such had not been lost or ignored; they formed the foundation for Sir Richard Southern’s portrayal of medieval humanism, and Beryl Smalley’s classicizing friars.147 Moreover, the term “humanism” itself, much as “Augustinianism,” is an ahistorical substantive adjective created in the nineteenth century that can easily introduce connotations that cannot be applied to the scholars of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries in Italy or elsewhere and retain historical accuracy or validity.148 By asserting such I am not, at least consciously and/​or by intent, siding with the “revolt of the medievalists” against the “Burkhardtians,” nor suggesting that the term “humanism” be treated in a similar fashion to my arguments for “Augustinianism”; that would necessitate a separate study. I simply want to point out that if we identify humanism with a knowledge of, love for, and appeal to the classics, we will find humanism as a constant of medieval intellectual culture from at least the twelfth century onward. The distinction to be made between medieval classicism and Renaissance classicism can be found, it seems to me, by recognizing the mode of reception, whereby medieval authors appropriated the classics for themselves whereas Renaissance authors sought to conform themselves and their world to their interpretative models of the classics. This is not the place, however, for a lengthy discussion of the origin and nature of humanism as such. Yet if the question of a Renaissance Augustinianism is to be posed, and one based on Petrarch and his relation to Augustine as a foundational component of the emergence of Renaissance humanism, a basic concept of humanism is required. For present purposes, I would here use the term “humanism,” following Kristeller, as a neutral term to provide a general category for those scholars who can be considered as “humanists,” that is, as teachers of the humanities and who saw in the humanities a moral and civic program. In this light, Petrarch stands at the origins of Renaissance humanism,149 and the question we are after is the role of Augustine therein, namely, the influence of Petrarch’s own reception of Augustine on the developing Petrarchan humanism. To this end, it is instructive to approach Petrarch by 1 47 Beryl Smalley, English Friars and Antiquity in the Early Fourteenth Century (Oxford, 1960). 148 For a brief overview of the origins of the term, see Trinkaus, The Scope of Renaissance Humanism. 149 Kristeller considered Petrarch “nicht als den ersten Humanisten … sondern als den ersten groβen Humanisten, der durch seine Persönlichkeit, seine Autorität und seine Schriften der neuen Bewegung einen stärkeren Impuls und ihre definitive Richtung gab und für ihre groβe Verbreitung auch auβerhalb Italiens weitgehend verantwortlich war.” Kristeller, “ Petrarcas Stellung in der Geschichte der Gelehrsamkeit,” in Kristeller, Studies in Renaissance Thought and Letters iv, Storia e Letteratura, Raccolta di Studi e Testi 193 (Rome, 1996), 27–​51; 28.

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way of comparison. Above I discussed Helinand of Froidmont and Robert Grosseteste, whose reception of Augustine was impressive, and here then I turn to the thirteenth-​century Franciscan author, John of Wales, and the later fourteenth-​century Augustinian Hermit Jacques Legrand. Such an exercise will allow Petrarch’s Renaissance Augustinianism to stand out in clearer relief in answering the question that if Renaissance humanism was, at least in part, the attempt to conform oneself to classical models, did Petrarch attempt to conform himself to Augustine? 2.1 John of Wales, ofm and Jacques Legrand, oesa John of Wales (Johannes Wallensis) was a Franciscan friar born most likely between the years 1210 and 1230. The first firm date we have for John is his lectorate to the Franciscans at Oxford as a bachelor of theology, which began after 1258, most likely from 1259–​1262. John was in Paris in 1270, and served as regent master for the Franciscans in Paris during the years 1281–​1283.150 Yet by this time John had already composed some of his major works, including his Breviloquium de virtutibus and his extensive Communiloquium. He was appointed to the commission examining the works of Peter John Olivi, but died before the process was complete, most likely in 1285.151 John’s Communiloquium is an extensive work in which John sought to provide preaching material for his fellow friars.152 In this light it can be considered a “handbook for preachers” and can in no way be associated with proto-​ humanism. It thus offers an excellent example of the use of the classics, and of Augustine, in the generation preceding the rise of humanism. John cited from a wide variety of sources, including many classics. In the Breviloquium, Valerius Maximus was the most frequently cited author with sixty-​five citations, followed by Augustine with twenty-​nine, Seneca with twenty-​five, Cicero with twenty-​four, Celius Balbus with nineteen, and Vegetius with thirteen.153 In the Communiloquium, Augustine ranked first in frequency of citations with 237, followed by Gregory the Great with 210, Seneca with 170, Jerome with 123, Valerius Maximus with 122, and Cicero with 103.154 Augustine was John’s favorite authority in his Communiloquium, in which John cited from sixty-​three works of Augustine, with citations to De civitate 150 Jenny Swanson, John of Wales. A Study of the Works and Ideas of a Thirteenth-​Century Friar (Cambridge, 1989), 4–​5. 151 Ibid. 152 Ibid., 63–​64. 153 Swanson, John of Wales, 18. 154 Ibid.

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dei being the overwhelming favorite with over 200 references.155 De civitate dei provided John not only with source material itself, but also served as a conduit of classical authors, though John also cited classical sources directly from manuscripts rather than relying upon intermediary works. In the opening pages of the Communiloquium, John asserted the proper Christian attitude toward the pagan, classical authors. Citing from Augustine’s De doctrina Christiana book two, John asserted that Christian authors can draw the gold from the Egyptians without any lessening of the truth or sufficiency of Scripture. The truths of the classical authors simply testify to God’s goodness in revealing his truth to humans.156 According to Carol Quillen, this principle formed the basis of Petrarch’s own appropriation of Augustine for Petrarch’s humanist program: “This humanist vision was certainly not advocated by Augustine, either in ddc (De doctrina christiana) or anywhere else. Yet Petrarch’s creative appropriation of the words and arguments of ddc testify, more than any stricter interpretation ever could, to the complexity and abiding significance of Augustine’s work.”157 John, moreover, was often very precise in his quotations, usually citing book and chapter. His accuracy, however, was less acute than his concern for precision. Thus in Communiloquium 2,6,3 John cited De civitate dei 13,3, but the text is taken from De trinitate 13,3.158 In Communiloquium 2,6,1 John referenced the Pseudo-​Augustinian De disciplina christiana 1, but the text 1 55 Ibid., 18–​19. 156 “Ut enim ait idem [scil. Augustinus] 2 de doctrina christiana ante finem quod sicut populus Israhel vasa et ornamenta aurea argentea et vestes abstulit ab Egypto, quae vendicavit ad meliorem usum, sic liberales disciplinas usui veritatis aptas et quaedam morum praecepta continentes, possunt accipere fideles ad veritatis attestationem, sicut exemplificat ibi Augustinus de doctoribus sacris qui fuerunt in sapientia saeculorum philosophorum et protulerunt ex eorum doctrinis multa utilia ecclesiastica et refutaverunt superticiosa figmenta. Non ergo proper insufficientiam sacrae scripturae, in qua quicquid homo extra didicerit: si noxium est damnatur; sit est utile munitur, ut ait ibidem Augustinus. Sed propter honorem veritatis efficatiorem attestationem ipsis auditoribus et preconium divine bonitatis, que eis veritatem revelavit, ut ait Apostolus ad Romanos 1.” Johannis Gaullensis, Communiloquium (Ulm, 1481, without foliation or pagination; digitalized at: http://​ink​unab​eln.ub.uni-​koeln.de/​vdib-​cig/​kle​ioc/​0010/​exec/​page​med/​%22gbiv​9147​ _​dru​ck1%3do​o45.jpg%22; hereafter cited as: Joh.Gaul., Comm.), Prol. (43). This passage is not present in the Cologne, 1470 edition, digitalized University of Darmstadt: http://​tudi​ git.ulb.tu-​darmst​adt.de/​show/​inc-​ii-​541; fol. 10v-​13r. The Augustine reference could have been a later addition, not by John of Wales, which points to the need for a critical edition of this most influential work. 157 Quillen, “Plundering the Egyptians,” 167. 158 “Ut enim ait Augustinus 13 de civitate dei ca. 3: Omnes volunt utiliter emere et care vendere.” Joh.Gaul. Comm. 2,6,3 (ed. Ulm, 1481), 199; “… vili velle emere, et caro vendere, omnibus id credidit esse commune.” Aug. trin. 13,3; pl 42, col. 1017.

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is drawn from Augustine’s Questiones in Leviticum.159 And in Communiloquium 1,1,3 John cited De civitate dei 8,6, but the quotation is from John of Salisbury’s Policraticus.160 Such examples could easily be multiplied, but these should be sufficient to illustrate the point: John cited Augustine as an authority but was not concerned to check his references, citing most likely from memory, which could account for references such as in Communiloquium 1,1,3 where John referenced De civitate dei 19,1 whereas the quotation comes from De libero arbitrio 13,27.161 At times, however, John was indeed accurate, referencing the text precisely where it was to be found.162 One receives the impression that Augustine for John was an important authority, even the most important authority, yet John did not reference Augustine in all circumstances. In Communiloquium 6,2,5, which deals with religious poverty, John cited Gregory the Great, Valerius Maximus, and Jerome, but not Augustine.163 In short, we find with John a use of Augustine that is paralleled in late medieval sermon literature, whereby Augustine’s authority is highlighted, but not uniformly so by any means, and where Augustine is cited rather haphazardly.164

159 “Et idem de disciplina christiana c. 1: Proximus omnis homo homini est tam conditione nature quam confessione religionis.” Joh.Gaul. Comm. 2,6,1 (ed. Ulm, 1481), 197; “Proximus est enim omnis homo homini.” Aug. In heptateuchum libri septem. Liber tertius Questiones in Leviticum 73, pl 34, col. 709. 160 “Et quia omnium legum est inanis censura nisi divine legis ymaginem gerat ut ait Aug. 8 de civ. dei ca. 6. Ideo omnes leges emanare debent a lege divina.” Joh.Gaul. Comm. 1,1,3 (ed. Ulm, 1481), 48; “Omnium legum inanis est censura, si non divinae legis imaginem gerat.” John of Salisbury, Policraticus 4,6; pl 199, col. 522D. 161 “… et cum ipsa sit virtus qua sua cuique tribuuntur, ut ait Augustinus 19 de civitate dei ca. 1.” Joh.Gaul. Comm. 1,1,3 (ed. Ulm, 1481), 50; “ Jam justitiam quid dicamus esse, nisi virtutem qua sua cuique tribuuntur?” Aug. lib. arb. 13,27; pl 32, col. 1235. 162 For example, in Comm. 1,1,3 John cited De civitate dei 4,4, which is where the quotation is found; in Comm. 2,6,1 John cited Augustine’s Epistola 24, but the text is from Epistola 155: “Proximum autem non Quod remota iusticia quid sunt regna nisi latricinia ubi ponit exemplum de Alexandro magno et pyrata.”; and in Comm. 1,1,7 John cited De civitate dei 5,12, and did so accurately: “Unde et rectores reipublice antiquitus dicebantur consules a consulendo ut dicit Augustinus 5 de civitate dei ca. 12.” Joh.Gaul. Comm. 1,1,7 (ed. Ulm, 1481), 52; “… qui consules appellati sunt a consulendo …” Aug. civ. 5,12,1; pl 41, col. 154. John also cited frequently from Augustine’s letters, and did so usually accurately, though John’s number of the letter and the modern numbering do not correspond, which is most likely due to the particular collection of letters John was using. Thus in Comm. 2,6,1 John wrote: “… non sanguinis propinquitate sed rationis societate pensandus est, Augustinus 24 epistola.” Joh.Gaul. Comm. 2,6,1 (ed. Ulm, 1481), 202; “Proximus sane hoc loco, non sanguinis propinquitate, sed rationis societate pensandus est.” Aug. ep. 155,3,14; pl33, col. 672. 163 Joh.Gaul. Comm. 6,2,5 (ed. Ulm, 1481), 332–​334. 164 See Saak, “Sermons,” oghra 3: 1717–​1726.

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A similar verdict can be given concerning Jacques Legrand, oesa (c. 1365–​1415) and his Sophilogium. Legrand is one of the many late medieval Augustinians who is under studied and little known, aside perhaps by scholars of French literature. He studied in Paris in the late fourteenth century and composed his Sophilogium originally c. 1393–​1396, and the two vernacular adaptations therefrom, the l’Archiloge Sophie dedicated to Louis, Duke of Orléan, before 1400, and the Livre de bonnes meurs in 1404, with the presentation copy of the definitive edition thereof dedicated to the Duke of Berry in 1410.165 Standing on the boundaries—​and thus blurring them—​between the later Middle Ages and the Renaissance, which only modern historians can demarcate either chronologically or qualitatively, Legrand’s Sophilogium, extant in over 105 manuscripts and twenty editions,166 is an encyclopedic guide to the virtuous life of wisdom for all segments of society. Gathered together “from the sayings of the poets,” the Sophilogium’s intent, as Legrand asserted, was “to lead the spirit of its readers to the love of wisdom.”167 Thus he quotes often from Seneca, Virgil, Cicero, Ovid, Lucan, Quintillian, and Valerius Maximus, giving a superficial appearance of classical learning. Yet as Beltran has demonstrated, Legrand took most of his classical sources from Vincent of Beauvais’ Speculum maius and John of Wales’s Communiloquium.168 The Bible, Church Fathers, and medieval authors likewise are prominent and here Augustine is cited as one authority among others. Legrand paraphrases and summarizes Augustine’s texts while nevertheless giving precise references, though he does not exhibit the source erudition of his earlier fourteenth-​century scholastic forebears. Thus in Sophilogium 1,4 Legrand uses Augustine as an authority, citing De civitate dei 12,15: “An infant, he said, should not exceed his own capacity,”169 yet Augustine’s text reads: “For if an infant is nourished for his own strengths, he will be able as he grows to take more; if, however, he exceeds the strengths of his own capacities, he will be sickly before he grows.”170 Legrand summarizes, abbreviates, and uses Augustine for 1 65 Evencio Beltran, L’Idéal de Sagesse d’Après Lacques Legrand (Paris 1989), 15–​21. 166 Ibid., 228. 167 “… presentem librum ex dictis poetarum precipue compegi, quem Zophilogium interpretor, eo quod principalis intencio est inducere legentis animum ad amorem sapiencie.” Jacques Legrand, oesa, Sophilogium Prol (Strassburg, 1470), fol. Aiiiv; digitalized at: http://​ink​unab​eln.ub.uni-​koeln.de/​vdib-​cgi/​kle​ioc/​0010/​exec/​page​med/​%22g​bii%2bd​ 318%2bb%5fdru​ck1%3doo​oo6%2ejpg%22; p. 6. 168 Beltran L’Idéal de Sagesse, 23–​41. 169 “… tradit Augustinus xii de civitate dei capitulo xv: Infans inquit suam capacitatem non excedat.” Legrand, Sophilogium 1,4 (online, 12). 170 “Si enim pro viribus suis alatur infans, fiet ut crescendo plus capiet: si autem vires suae capacitatis excedat, deficiet antequam crescat.” Aug. civ. 15,12,3; pl 41,365.

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his own purposes, which is also the case when he writes: “Wherefore Augustine in book twenty-​two of De civitate dei, chapter nine, tells how sons cursed by their mother incurred a bodily shaking and were buried in the Church of St. Stephen, and Augustine concludes that the curse of parents is to be feared.”171 Here Legrand, based on his own memory, is conflating and creating a new text. In civ. 22,8,22 Augustine tells of a family of seven brothers and three sisters whose father had recently died and who had been cursed by their mother and thus left destitute, and as a result, they were afflicted with shaking horribly in their bodies (ut horribiliter quaterentur omnes tremore membrorum). One brother and sister, Paulus and Palladia, started coming to church approximately fifteen days before Easter and would pray to the memory of the most glorious St. Stephen, with the result being that after Easter, they were healed of their malady.172 There is no mention of their death whatsoever, and they were exhibiting their devotion to St. Steven, whose relics were preserved in a devotional chapel adjoining the Basilica Major in Hippo.173 The moral of the story, according to Legrand, namely ‘a parent’s curse is to be feared’ is nowhere in the cited text, but a near parallel is found in Augustine’s sermon 323, preached in celebration of St. Stephen, where we find Augustine ‘concluding’ in Legrand’s phrase, that “angry parents are to be feared.”174 On another occasion, in his chapter ‘On Gluttony’ of part two of the Sophilogium, Legrand, warning against the dangers of the opportunities for indulging oneself when one is “out and about,” states that “for this reason we read that Augustine never wanted to have social gatherings outside his own house.”175 The closest parallel I have found is in a sermon in which Augustine warns that a cleric “should never dare to take a meal outside his own home or that of the bishop.”176 This sermon is actually sermon thirty-​six of the Sermones ad fratres in eremo, though not part of the original collection of Jordan of Quedlinburg or Robert de Bardis.177 171 “Unde Augustinus xxii de civ. dei c. ix narrat qualiter filii a matre maledicti membrorum tremorem incurrunt et in ecclesia sancti Stephani sepulti erant et concludit quod timenda est parentum maledictio.” Legrand, Sophilogium 3,4,13 (online, 423). 172 pl 41, 769–​70. 173 F. Van der Meer, Augustine the Bishop (London,1961), 20–​21. 174 “… timeant parentes irasci.” Aug. s. 323,1; pl 38, 1445. 175 “… ob hanc enim causam legimus Augustinum extra domum propriam convivere noluisse.” Legrand, Sophilogium 2,12 (online, 241). 176 “… ne extra domum suam vel episcopi prandere audeat.” pl 40,1299. 177 For the collections of Jordan and de Bardis, see Saak, “On the Origins of the OESA: Some Notes on the Sermones ad fratres in eremo,” Aug(L) 57 (2007): 89–​149, 118–​119, 142–​143, and chapter eight below. This citation does, however, show that Legrand took these sermons as genuine, and he may very well have had access to the original collection in Jordan’s Collectanea in either Jordan’s autograph or the later copy (Jordan’s autograph is found

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A classicist, textual scholar, or philologist Legrand certainly was not, but he was an avid reader who used his sources, including Augustine, for his own purpose in the Sophilogium: to teach its readers the path to wisdom, in itself a most Augustinian endeavor. In doing so, his Sophilogium reveals a great deal about how Augustine was actually used by a late medieval Augustinian hermit who lived and wrote during the Great Schism and the rise of the Medici in Florence. In this light, it is perhaps small wonder that the third part of his Sophilogium has been called a Mirror for Princes.178 Whereas Giles of Rome in his De regimine principum, composed by 1280, a text Legrand knew well, cited Augustine only once in the entire work and Scripture not at all,179 Legrand cites Augustine in his speculum principis even more frequently than in the first two parts of the work. In short, even given the conflation of texts and the lack of erudition regarding precise citation, much as in the case of John of Wales, one of Legrand’s major sources, Legrand demonstrated a broad and relatively deep knowledge of Augustine, even as he cited Augustine as an authority as any other; in other words, Legrand demonstrated as such no clearly evident affinity with Augustine. Nevertheless, Legrand’s work, together with that of John of Wales, Helinand of Froidmont and Robert Grosseteste, provides a requisite context for interpreting Petrarch’s appropriation of Augustine, based on his knowledge and use of the Church father, and the extent to which that appropriation can in any way be said to represent a renaissance Augustinianism. Or in other words, given that Petrarch’s relationship to and use of Augustine has been seen as foundational for renaissance humanism, if we analyze his appropriation of Augustine in light of the medieval reception of Augustine, does Petrarch represent a humanist Augustinianism or simply another medieval reception even if put to different use? If medieval authors knew their Augustine better, and knew far more of Augustine than did Petrarch, what does this tell us about Petrarch’s Augustinianism and its relationship to renaissance humanism, and to humanism in general for that matter? Yet before such questions can be answered, we

in Paris, Bib.de l’Arsenal 251, a fifttenth-​century copy of which is extant in Paris, BnF lat. 5338), in the latter of which one finds as well Jordan’s Metrum pro depingenda vita sancti Augustini, which later circulated under Legrand’s name as author and together with Legrand’s works, such as in Paris, Bib.de l’Arsenal ms 542, which contains Jordan’s Metrum ascribed to Legrand (fol. 79v-​80v), as well as Legrand’s Collatio super Sentencias (fol. 28r-​ 36r), Chronica (fol 40r-​46v), and Tractatus de arte memorandi (fol. 76v-​79r). 178 Beltran, L’Idéal de Sagesse, 38. 179 See Saak, “Giles of Rome,” oghra 2: 1047–​1049.

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must first address the issue of Petrarch’s sincerity regarding Augustine and the extent to which Petrarch’s Augustine was simply a fiction. 2.2 Petrarch’s Fictionalizing The charge that Petrarch was just using Augustine for his own purposes in his Secretum, and that the Augustinus of the dialogue has little relation to the historical Augustine, is not a discovery of modern scholars. Petrarch defended himself against such assertions in his letter to Giacomo Colonna, Bishop of Lombez.180 Here Petrarch begins by admitting his literary deceitfulness, and does so by turning the vice into a virtue: If, therefore, in this dangerous and fleeting and insidious journey anyone whom nature or effort had made so wary that after eluding the deceits of the world he himself managed to deceive the world by showing himself outwardly like the multitude but inwardly being unlike them, what would you say about such a man? Where are we to search for him? In him must be a most excellent nature, a mature and reasonable age, and a solicitous consideration of the misfortunes of others. Yet you grant such qualities to me; very flattering indeed, if you are not joking. But if what you say does not apply to me today, I pray God, who has power to free one from the infernal regions, that I deserve your praise before I die.181 Be this as it may, Petrarch then turns to defend his love of Augustine. He does so by objecting to the Christian/​classical dichotomy: You say that I have been fooling not only the stupid multitude with my fictions but heaven itself. You maintain, then, that I have embraced Augustine and his books with a certain amount of feigned good will, but

180 Petrarch, Familiarum rerum libri. ii, 9, ed. E. Bianchi, in Francesco Petrarca, Prose, ed. G. Martelloti, P.G. Ricci, E. Carrara, and E. Bianchi (Milan, 1955), 810–​1025; 816–​828; trans. Aldo A. Bernardo (Albany, 1975); hereafter cited as: Petr. Fam. 181 “In hoc igitur ancipiti et lubricio et suspecto itinere, siquem forte tam cautum vel natura vel studium fecisset, ut, mundi fraudibus elusis, mundum ipse deciperet, frontem scilicet ostendens populo similem, tota intus mente dissimilis; quem tu hunc virum diceres? Hunc tamen ubi querimus? Et natura optima et etate solida simul ac sobria opus est, et alienorum casuum observatione solicita. Tu tamen hoc michi nomen imponis; immensum quidem, modo non irrideas. Quod si hodie verum non est, Deum oro, qui potens est etiam ab inferis excitare, ut verum fiat antequam moriar.” Petr. Fam. ii,9 (ed. Bianchi, 10; trans. 98–​99).

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in truth have not torn myself away from the poets and philosophers. Why should I tear asunder what I know Augustine himself clung to?182 This is the long-​standing debate and tension within Christianity between Christian sources and pagan, classical sources, formulated perhaps most perceptively by Tertullian with his question of what does Athens have to do with Jerusalem. In Petrarch’s time, it was still an issue, and especially so with the new attention being given the classics by the humanists. Moreover, it has remained a problem for contemporary interpreters. Carol Quillen highlights Petrarch’s use of pagan authors as going against expectations of what a Christian author would do, even claiming that the Secretum is not only a “humanist manifesto,” but also that it calls into question “all of the assumptions that make humanism imaginable.”183 Yet this dichotomy between the classical and the Christian was a false dichotomy for Petrarch. As long as one was guided by divine illumination, one could read the classics. In his letter to Giacomo, Petrarch admitted that reading can be dangerous: However, I do not wish to deny that many things in them [i.e. pagan authors] ought to be avoided since even among our own writers certain things may be dangerous for the unsuspecting. Augustine himself, in a certain voluminous work of his, plucked off with his own fingers the weeds of interfering error from the extremely copious crop of his studies. And so? Rare is the reading free from danger, unless the light of divine truth shines upon the reader teaching him what is to be pursued and what is to be avoided. So long as such a light leads the way all things are secure and those things that could harm are better known than even Scylla and Charybdis or than the most famous cliffs that are found on the sea.184 182 “Dicis me, non modo vulgus insulsum, sed celum ipsum fictionibus tentare; itaque Augustinum et eius libros simulate quadam venivolentia complexum, re autem vera a poetis et philosophis non avelli. Quid autem inde divellerer, ubi ipsum Augustinum inherentum video?” Petr. Fam. ii,9 (ed. Bianchi, 12; trans., 99). 183 Quillen, The Secret by Francesco Petrarch, with Related Documents (New York, 2003), 40; idem, Rereading the Renaissance, ch. 5 “Augustine Invented: The Secretum,” 182–​216. 184 “Nec tamen ideo negaverim multa apud illos esse que vitari oporteat, cum et apud nostros quedam sint periculosa incautis, et Augustinus ipse, in quodam operoso volumine, de uberrima messe suorum studiorum internascentis erroris lolium proprio police decerpat. Quid ergo? Rara lectio est que periculo vacet, nisi legenti lux divine veritatis affulserit, quid sequendum declinandum ve sit docens; illa autem duce, secura sunt Omnia, et que nocere poterant, iam Syrtibus et Caribdi aut famosis in alto scopulis notiora sunt.” Petr. Fam. ii.9 (ed. Bianci, 14; trans., 100–​101).

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He then turns to the concluding proof of his devotion to Augustine: “And to put an end to this insolent calumny that I am falsely found of Augustine, Augustine himself knows the truth.”185 Simply put, Petrarch equates Augustine with Laura, or at least puts them on the same level: And finally, you say that the truly live Laura by whose beauty I seem to be captured was completely invented, my poems fictitious and my sighs feigned. I wish indeed that you were joking about this particular subject, and that she indeed had been a fiction and not a madness! … This wound will heal in time and that Ciceronian saying will apply to me: “Time wounds, and time heals,” and against this fictitious Laura as you call it, that other fiction of mine, Augustine, will perhaps be of help. For by reading widely and seriously, and by meditating on many of his things I shall become an old man before I will have grown old. 186 Petrarch’s two great “fictions,” Laura and Augustine, are brought together here. Though Petrarch fiercely defends his sincerity, we need to look a bit more closely at Petrarchan deceit in order to understand his closing line to Giacomo: “Only this do I ask of you, that you do not feign that I have feigned.”187 What constitutes “feigning” for Petrarch? That is hard to say. His Rerum familiarium libri is a construct, put together between 1345 and 1366, containing 185 “Ut vero iantandem huic lascive calumnie finis fiat, vere ne an falso Augustinum animo complectar ipse novit.” Petr. Fam. ii,9 (ed. Bianchi, 14; trans., 101).; cf.: “Ad eum siquidem conversa [scil. Veritas], ac meditationem ipsius profundissimam interrumpens sic ait: ‘Care michi ex milibus Augustine; hunc tibi devotum nosti … Nam et iste tui semper nominis amantissimus fuit …” Petrarca, Secretum, Proh. 3,2–​3, ed. Ugo Dotti (Rome, 1993), 4; hereafter cited as: Petr. secr. 186 “Quid ergo ais? Finxisse me michi speciosum Lauree nomen, ut esset et de qua ego loquerer et propter quam de me multi loquerentur; re autem vera in animo meo Lauream nichil esse, nisi illam forte poeticam, ad quam aspirare me longum et indefessum stadium testator; de hac autem spirante Laurea, cuius forma captus videor, manufacta esse Omnia, ficta carmina, simulate suspiria. In hoc uno verutinam iocareris; simulatio esset utinam et non furor! Sed crede michi, nemo sine magno labore diu simulat; laborare autem gratis, ut insanus videaris, insania summa est. Adde quod egritudinem gestibus imitari bene valentes possumus, verum pallorem simulare non possumus. Tibi pallor, tibi labor meus notus est; itaque magis vereor ne tua illa festivitate socratica, quam yroniam vocant, quo in genere nec Socrati quidem cedis, morbo meo insultes. Sed expecta; ulcus hoc cum tempore maturescet, verumque fiet in me circeronianum illud: ‘Dies vulnerat, dies medetur’, atque adversus hanc simulatam, ut tu vocas, Lauream, simulates ille michi etiam Augustinus forte profuerit. Multa enim et gravia legend multumque meditando, antequam senescam, senex ero.” Petr. Fam. ii,9 (ed. Bianchi, 16; trans., 102). 187 “Hoc saltem oro, ne finxisse me fingas.” Petr. Fam. ii,9 (ed. Bianci, 20; trans., 105).

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letters written, rewritten, or fabricated between approximately 1325 and 1366.188 Giuseppe Billanovich has shown that the majority of letters in the first eight books anyway were fictions, including the famous iv,1 addressed to the Augustinian friar Dionysius de Burgo of San Sepulcro detailing Petrarch’s ascent of Mont Ventoux, which Billanovich dates to 1352 or early 1353, rather than to the ascribed date of 1336.189 It is certainly possible that Petrarch did indeed climb Mont Ventoux in 1336, together with his brother, and had the copy of Augustine’s Confessiones with him as he described, and then rather immediately upon descent, wrote to Dionysius of his experience. There is, however, no corroborating evidence of him having done so; we only have his letter, which Billanovich convincingly dates to 1352/​3. This is also the same date of the Secretum’s final form,190 and, we can assume, of letter ii,9 to Giacomo. These three texts belong together, as is clear with the Secretum and letter iv,1, and as Petrarch reveals in letter ii,9 when he muses: “against this fictitious Laura as you call it, that other fiction of mine, Augustine, will perhaps be of help.”191 What we are dealing with here are three fictions, yet fictions as such are not per se deceitful. As quoted above, Petrarch turned Giacomo’s “playful critique” into a virtue by arguing that only the most mature and wise man could deceive the world in being different privately from how the world viewed him. There is a public/​ private dichotomy here on which Petrarch is drawing. The hypocrite is the one who publically appears pious, religious, upright and the like, while privately is ambitious and lustful: You say that you marvel that at my tender age I can deceive the world so skillfully, that this art seems to derive not so much from experience as 188 Petr. Fam. (trans., xvii); Baron has argued for Petrarch’s basic truthfulness; Baron, Petrarch’s Secretum, 185–​214. This is, in some ways, what I am trying to argue here, that Petrarch was using medieval literary convention of integumentum, which asserts a fundamental truth even within his fictionalizing. 189 Guiseppe Billanovich, Petrarca Letterato, vol. 1, Lo scritto del Petrarca (Rome, 1947). 190 Baron argues throughout his study for Petrarch’s continued work on the Secretum from 1347 to 1353, arguing that the 1353 version represents the final version; see, for example, Baron, Petrarch’s Secretum, 182. 191 “… atque adversus hanc simulatam, ut tu vocas, Lauream, simulatus ille michi etiam Augustinus forte profuerit.” Petr. Fam. ii,9 (ed. Bianchi, 824). Baron considered Fam. ii/​ 9, Fam. iv,1, De otio, and the Secretum all to have been interrelated in the early 1350s; Baron, Petrarch’s Secretum, 16–​18; B.L. Ullman notes that in Fam. ii,9 Petrarch quotes Julius Capitolinus, the manuscript of which was copied for him in 1356, so that at least this reference could not have been composed previous to 1356; Ullman, “Petrarch’s ‘De vita solitaria,” 156.

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from natural abilities. You could have eulogized me in many more, but certainly not more magnificent, words. Whoever travels this journey of life with open eyes knows how often the world, deceiver of humankind, entangles life in its fetters and with what a bitter sprinkling of sweetness it blesses human life. We continue to look with favor upon the deceits scattered along this journey and eagerly, against the advice of Apollo, we toil against knowing ourselves. Pride inflates one man under the covering of a great and lofty mind; malice and deceit make a fool of another man under the garment of prudence of whatever false virtue seems closest. Another man considers himself strong and is instead timid and weak. There is also the man motivated by avarice under the guise of frugality, and the man whom prodigality overcomes under the appearance of liberality. The vices are disguised and the huge monsters hide under attractive coverings. Add to these a crowd of delightful but transitory and indeed passing and fleeing things. Ambition overwhelms us with honors, applause and popular flattery; dissipation unfurls before us enticing and varied pleasures; money does the same with an abundance of many things. There is no hook without bait, no branch without some trap, no snare without hope. Add to this human cupidity, rash and bereft of council, as well as quick in deceit and opportune in its insidiousness.192 Yet on the surface, this is the phenomenon that Petrarch finds worthy of praise and prays God that he might be worthy of such before he dies. Giacomo had challenged Petrarch that his devotion to Augustine, and to Laura, was simply his deceit, presenting himself to the world other than he was in private, or 192 “Mirari solitum ea is, quod mundum in etate adhuc tenera sic artificiose decipiam, ut scilicet ars hec sit non tam experientie quam nature. Pangericum plurium certe verborum, sed minime amplioris glorie cecinisse michi poteras. Mundus, deceptor generis humani, quot vitam laqueis implicitam quam amare dulcedinis aspersione commendet, novit quisquis apertis oculis iter hoc agit; cuius et nos fraudibus de industria favemus studioseque, ut ipsi nobis ignoti simus, adversus Apollinis consilium laboramus. Hunc superbia inflat sub specie magni et excelsi animi; illum militia et fraus, et quicquid prudentie proximum videtur, sub amictu finitime virtutis infatuate. Ille se fortem putat, inhumanus et ferox; hic se humilem vocat, timidus et imbellis. Est et quem titulo frugalitatis avaritia solicita, et quem prodigalitas specie largitatis exhauriat. Personata sunt vitia, et immania monstra formosis sub pellibus delitescunt. Accedit delectabilium seb transiturarum, imo vero transeuntium ac fugientium rerum turba: ambitio honorem nobis et plausum aurasque vulgares, luxuria blandas et varias voluptates, pecunia plurimarum rerum sufficientiam ostentat; nullus hamus sine esca, nullus sine visco ramus, nullus laqueus sine spe. Accedit humana cupiditas preceps inopsque consilii, et falli facilis et insidiis oportuna.” Petr. Fam. ii, 9 (ed. Bianchi, 8–​10; trans., 98).

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internally. What then is the difference between the hypocrite and one deserving of high praise? For the hypocrite, he is deceiving the world by appearing virtuous, while vice lies within. Praise-​worthy deceit is to avoid the deceit of the world, the lure of transitory delight, and then, deceive the multitude by being humble enough to appear like them, yet internally being more virtuous, distant, and dissimilar. Here Petrarch has internalized morality in a version of the Pauline admonition to be in the world, but not of the world. This position was very close to the one he took in his De vita solitaria with the dichotomy set up between solitarius and occupatus.193 The distinction here is not between the monk and the man of the world. While certainly a monk, a true monk, is a solitarius, not every solitarius has to be a monk, even if there are monastic elements to living a life of solitude. Petrarch writes: Certainly, I am not unaware that there have been and perhaps are those who lead a most active life [occupatissimos quosdam] and are at the same time most holy men [sanctissimos viros] who lead wavering souls back to themselves and to Christ. When this occurs, I confess, it is an immense and immeasurable good, and even a double happiness, contrasted with the two-​fold objects of misery about which we have said so much. For what is happier, or what is more worthy for man, or more similar to God than to serve and help as many as possible? Indeed, he who is able to do so and does not, has, as is clear to me, abandoned his office of humanity, and for the same reason is seen to have lost the name and very nature of man.194 Yet the “occupied solitary” is a rare breed indeed, and Petrarch questions whether any such in his day are to be found: “But how many, I ask you, do we see, who fulfill what they profess? There are, perhaps, some, even many—​yet show me one and I will hold my tongue.”195 193 Francesco Petrarca, De vita solitaria, Buch I, ed. and Commentary, K. A. E. Enenkel, Leidse romanistische Reeks van de Rijksuniversiteit te Leiden 24 (Leiden, 1990), 62,30–​34; hereafter cited as Petr. vit. sol. 2 (ed. Enenkel, 206–​342). 194 “Non quod ignorem fuisse et fortassis esse occupatissimos quosdam simulque sanctissimos viros, qui se ipsos et secum Christo devias animas adducerent. Quod ubi accidit, ingens, fateor, et inextimabile bonum est ad geminata felicitas, duplici, de qua multa multa diximus, obiecta miserie. Quid enim felicius, quid aut homine dignius ut similius Deo est quam servare et adiuvare quam plurimos? Quod qui potest et non facit, preclarum michi quidem humanitatis officium abiecisse et ob eam rem hominis nomen ac naturam amississe videbitur.” Petr. vita sol. 1,3,8 (ed. Enenkel, 77, 62–​69). 195 “Sed quot, queso te, vidimus, qui quod profitebantur, impleverint? Sunt fortasse aliqui, sunt plurimi—​ostende michi unum et silebo.” Petr. vita sol.1,3,9 (ed. Enenkel, 78, 83–​85);

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Composed in 1346, that is a year before the Secretum and most likely approximately seven years before his letter to Giacomo, Petrarch’s De vita solitaria has most often been seen as sincere, or rather, as a genuine reflection of his own perspective, as he himself asserted to close his prologue, a dedicatory letter to Philippe de Cabassoles, the Bishop of Cavaillon and thus the territorial prince of Petrarch as he composed his work in Vaucluse: “… you can see here as in a mirror the entire condition of my soul, and the conspicuous clarity of my serene and tranquil mind.”196 Moreover, there are other parallels between De vita solitaria and Petrarch’s letter to Giacomo. In both works Petrarch claims that he is more well-​known than he desires or cares about,197 and writes in a style of private intimacy.198 On the surface, Petrarch is baring his soul, which is cf.: “In hoc igitur ancipiti et lubrico et suspect itinere, siquem forte tam cautum vel natura vel studium fecisset, ut, mundi fraudibus elusis, mundum ipse deciperet, frontem scilicet ostendens populo similem, tota intus mente dissimilis; quem tu hunc virum diceres? Hunc tamen ubi querimus? et natura optima et etate solida simul ac sobria opus est, et alienorum casuum observatione solicita. Tu tamen hoc michi nomen imponis; immensum quidem, modo non irrideas. Quod si hodie verum non est, Deum oro, qui potens est etiam ab inferis excitare, ut verum fiat antequam moriar.” Petr. Fam. ii,9 (ed. Bianchi, 818). Cf. Demetrio Yocum, “De otio religioso: Petrarch and the Laicization of Western Monastic Asceticism,” Religion and the Arts 11 (2007): 454–​479. 196 “… velut in speculo totum animi mei habitum, totam frontem serene transquilleque mentis aspicias.” Petr. vita sol. Proh. 12 (ed. Enenkel, 60,140–​141). On the relationship between Philippe and Petrarch, see Petr. vita sol. 1 Comm. (ed. Enenkel, 125–​146). 1 97 “Notior sum quam vellem …” Petr. Fam. ii,9 (ed. Bianchi, 818); in vita sol. Petrarch claimed that he had no real experience with solitutde, except in Vaucluse, thus placing himself implicitly as an occupatus, even if an occupatus who yearned to be a solitarius: “Neque enim magno studio incubui neque id necesse ratus sum, haud defuturam veritus materiam de re uberrima scribenti—​quod ad superficiem saltem eius attinet—​sepe michi hactenus agitate, multimode familiariterque notissima.” Petr. vita sol. 1,5 (ed. Enenkel, 62,39–​43); “Visus autem sum michi facillime felicitatem solitudinis ostensurus, si simulfrequentie Dolores miseriasque monstravero percurrens actus hominum, quod vel hec vita pacificos atque tranquillos vel illa turbidos atque sollicitos et anelantes habet. Unum est enim hic omnibus fundamentum: Hanc vitam leto otio, illam tristi negotio incumbere.” Ibid., 1,7 (ed. Enenkel, 62, 54–​58). 198 “Adesto igitur: audies, quid michi de toto hoc solitarie vite genere cogitanti videri soleat; pauca quidem ex multis, sed in quibus parvo velut ins peculo totum animi mei habitum, totamm frontem serene tranquilleque mentis aspicias.” Petr. vita sol. Proh. 12 (ed. Enenkel, 60,138–​141); “Hec ergo non diffinitor, sed scrutator vestigatorque tractaverim. Nam et diffinire sapientis est proprium, et ego nec sapiens nec proximus sapient … Contra autem paucos quibus loquor, affuturos scio preter numerum superiores rebus omnibus atque victores. Ego iam hinc iudicii tui arram teneo: satis est.” Petr. vita sol. 2 (ed. Martelloti, 588); Petrarch’s letter to Giacomo is written to an intimate, ostensibly a private letter: “Semisopitum epystole tue clamor excitat, quam iocosis refertam convitiis letus ridensque perlegi. Et ut primum venienti iaculo prius occurram, vide, queso, pater optime, de multis que contra me colligis …” Petr. Fam. ii,9 (ed. Bianchi, 8). Certainly

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already known to Philippe, and which he asserts to chastise Giacomo’s accusations.199 In both texts he disavows his deceitfulness. Yet the surface can be deceptive, and to get at Petrarchan deceit, we must search a bit deeper. Enenkel has pointed to the literary topos of such dedicatory letters and such baring of one’s soul.200 And there is little doubt that Petrarch’s entire letter to Giacomo was a fiction. Yet to reassert a point made above, a fiction, in and of itself, is not deceitful; it is simply a fiction. What we must strive to do is to get behind the fiction to determine the reality/​sincerity, and then on that basis, evaluate the deceit, while keeping in mind that Petrarchan deceit is a pious deceit. Only thus can we get at Petrarch’s own hermeneutic. By analyzing Petrarch’s deceit, what we actually are seeking here is Petrarch’s sincerity with regard to his Vita Solitaria and his letter ii,9 to Giacomo. The point of contention is his devotion to Augustine. In this light, his Secretum is not without import. The work opens with Truth appearing to Petrarch, much as did Philosophy to Boethius in his Consolation, and the Consolation was also one of Petrarch’s “favorite books.”201 Augustine accompanies Truth, and Petrarch relates that he: … saw at her side the figure of an aged man, venerable and majestic. There was no need to ask his name. His religious bearing, modest brow, his eyes full of dignity, his measured step, his African dress combined

Petrarch wrote this for a public, but he did so under the guise of a private letter, much the same as vita sol. 199 “… re autem vera in animo meo Lauream nichil esse, nisi illam forte poeticam, ad q uam aspirare me longum et indefessum studium testator; de hac a utem spirante Laurea, cuius forma captus videor, manufacta esse omnia, ficta carmina, simulate suspiria. In hoc uno vere utinam iocareris; simulation esset utinam et non furor!” Petr. Fam. ii,9 (ed. Bianchi, 16); “… sed in quibus parvo velut in speculo totum animi mei habitum, totam frontem serene tranquilleque mentis aspicias.” Petr. vita sol. Proh. 12 (ed. Enenkel, 60, 139–​141). 200 Petr. vita sol. 1 comm. (ed. Enenkel, 153–​156). 201 “Attonito michi quidem et sepissime cogitanti qualiter in hanc vitam intrassem, qualiter ve forem egressurus, contigit nuper ut non, sicut egros animos solet, somnus opprimeret, sed anxium atque pervigilem mulier quedam inenarrabilis etatis et luminis, formaque non satis ab hominibus intellect, incertumq uibus viis adiisse videretur. Virginem tamen et habitus nuntiabat et facies … Vixdum verba finierat, cum michi cunta versanti nichil aliud occurrebat quam Veritatem ipsam fore que loqueretur.” Petr. Secr. Proh. 1,1–​2,2 (ed. Dotti, 2–​4). Baron argued that Petrarch “did not simply imitate a classical author, although he found a guide in Boethius’ De Consolatione Philosophiae, which strongly influenced him while he was writing the Secretum.” Baron, Petrarch’s Secretum (143). Boethius’s De Consolatione was moreover on Petrarch’s list of his “favorite books”; see Ullman, “Petrarch’s Favorite Books,” 118.

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with Roman eloquence, all these plainly declared him to be that most illustrious father Augustine.202 Truth then turned and addressed Augustine: Augustine, dear to me above a thousand others, you know how devoted this man here is to you. You know that he is stricken with a dangerous and persistent sickness, and that the farther he retreats from understanding his disease, the nearer he gets to death. This half-​dead man needs care at once, and no one is better suited for this pious work than you. Your name has always been most dear to him, and lessons more easily enter the mind of a student who already loves the teacher.203 Seemingly not unmoved, Augustine replied: “Both the love I feel for this sick man and the authority of the one bidding me urge me to obey.” Then, looking kindly at me and embracing me as a father would, he led me away to a more private place, while Truth went on a few steps in front. There we all three sat down. While Truth, as the silent judge, listened and with no one else present, we talked back and forth, on and on, for three days.204 There is no question here that the figures of “Truth” and “Augustine” are fictions. This is a dream sequence, even if the hallucinations had been “real.” What we have to discern, though, is that given the fictitious nature of this work, to what extent, if any, was it a “deceit”? Was Petrarch here “feigning”? 202 “… virum iuxta grandevum ac multa maiestate venerandum video. Non fuit necesse nomen percuntari: religiosus aspectus, frons modesta, graves oculi, sobrius incessus, habitus afer sed romana facundia gloriosissimi patris Augustini quoddam satis apertum indicium referebant.” Petrarca, Secr. Proh. 2,4–​3,1 (ed. Dotti, 4); trans. Quillen, 46. 203 “ ‘Care michi ex milibus Augustine; hunc tibi devotum nosti, nec te latet quam periculosa et longa egritudine tentus sit, que eo propinquior morti est quo eger ipse a proprii morbi cognitione remotior! Itaque nunc vite huius semianimis consulendum est, quod pietatis opus melius quam tu nullus hominum prestare potest. Nam et iste tui semper nominis amantissimus fuit; habet autem hoc omnis doctrina, quod multo facilius in auditorum animum ab amato preceptore transfunditur.” Petrarca, Secr. Proh. 3,2–​3,3 (ed. Dotti, 4); trans. Quillen, 46–​47. 204 “ ‘Parere—​inquit—​et languentis amor cogit et iubentis autoritas’; simul me benigne intuens paternoque refovens complexu, in secretiorem loci partem Veritate previa parumper adduxit; ibi tres pariter consedimus.” Petrarca, Secr. Proh. 3,4 (ed. Dotti, 6); trans. Quillen, 47.

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On the one hand, the truthful answer to this question is that we will never really know. Petrarch’s defense of his adherence to Augustine in fam. ii,9, and his assertions of the reality of Laura, could have been tongue in cheek, yet most scholars accept Laura’s reality. The point is, if Augustine was a deceit, then so was Laura, and we are left with the psychological explanation that Laura represents Petrarch’s lust for fame and glory, and Augustine, either his future goals for his own life, as Francisco Rico argued, or his own conscience, as did Hans Baron.205 If we equate feigning with fiction, we lose the most important aspect of Petrarch’s endeavor. The overall model for the Secretum was Boethius’s Consolation, which too was a fiction,206 and medieval scholars, such as Bernardus Silvestris, used fiction to describe reality.207 The integumenta of medieval poetics were designed to reveal a hidden truth underneath the covering of literary fiction, often drawn from classical sources and themes. The Chartrian humanism of the twelfth century harmonized the Christian and the classical under the guise of literary fictions without calling into question “all of the assumptions that make humanism imaginable.”208 There was a medieval literary tradition of Petrarch’s fictionalizing and even if he went beyond medieval boundaries, such new departures do not entail the equating of fictions with feigning. We must seek Petrarch’s Renaissance integumenta, which for Petrarch no less than for his medieval forbearers, were always polyvalent; pointing to the symbolic qualities of his two great fictions, Laura and Augustine, does not negate their reality. Laura, as a symbol of the laurel, and Augustine, as a symbol of Petrarch’s “other self,” cannot be reduced to such, and the attempts even by his contemporaries to do so, led Petrarch to implore Giacomo not to “feign that I am feigning.” After all, Petrarch had “Truth” on his side in the Secretum, asserting in no uncertain terms his devotion to Augustine, and though certainly a fiction, if Petrarch’s Truth was feigned, so was Boethius’s Lady Philosophy. Whereas the historical individual Laura de Noves is generally assumed to have been Petrarch’s Laura, even though very little is known of her, the historical Augustine as the referent of Petrarch’s Augustine leaves little room for fictionalizing. We know Augustine, perhaps all too well, and herein lies the 205 Francisco Rico, “Precisazioni di cronologia petrarchesca: Le Familiares viii, 2–​5, e I rifaciementi del Secretum,” Giornale Storico della Letteratura Italiana clv (1978): 525; see also idem, Lectura; Baron, Petrarch’s Secretum, 222. 206 See note 201 above. 207 See Brian Stock, Myth and Science in the Twelfth Century. A Study of Bernard Silvester (Princeton, 1972); Peter Dronke, Fabula. Explorations into the Uses of Myth in Medieval Platonism (Leiden, 1974). 208 Quillen, The Secret, 40; Rereading the Renaissance, ch. 5 “Augustine Invented: The Secretum,” 182–​216.

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problem. The temptation is almost irresistible: we know Augustine, Petrarch knew Augustine, and we know Petrarch, so let’s compare to see how our knowledge of Augustine, which is certainly that of the historical Augustine, helps us to understand Petrarch’s Augustine, if there was such a being. Yet this approach misses the boat. We determine Petrarch’s fictionalization based on our own fictionalization of Augustine, and thus again the hermeneutical problem, when the double hermeneutic is not recognized. If we factor the historical Augustine out of the equation, how do we get at the authentic Augustine of Petrarch, if there ever was such? We must go to the sources and see how Petrarch used Augustine and how he constructed Augustine, in order to understand historically Petrarch’s fictionalizing, without ourselves being subject to fictionalizing—​and more importantly, to feigning. What we will find is that in his fictionalizing itself Petrarch was defending the authenticity of his Augustine. The authenticity of Petrarch’s devotion to Augustine, however, says very little actually about his Augustinianism. If all understanding and interpretation of Augustine is based upon the reception of Augustine, or in other words, the knowledge of the “historical Augustine,” we must also pose the question as to what Petrarch’s Augustine was based upon. What did Petrarch actually know of Augustine? 2.3 Petrarch’s Augustine There is little question that Petrarch knew his Augustine well, or rather, that he knew certain texts of Augustine well. Included in Petrarch’s own listing of his “favorite books,” were Augustine’s Confessiones, De civitate dei, Soliloquium, the pseudo-​Augustinian De orando deo, and De vera religione.209 In addition to these works, Petrarch quoted from the Enarrationes in Psalmos,210 De trinitate,211 and the Tractatus in evangelium Iohannis.212 He also gave evidence of at least knowing of the Sermones ad fratres suos in eremo,213 and De doctrina christiana.214 Based on a very detailed analysis of Petrarch’s Familiarum rerum libri and Senilium rerum libri, Évelyne Luciani has pointed to the possible influence on Petrarch, or at least to his knowledge, of Augustine’s Contra 209 Ullman, “Petrarch’s Favorite Books,” in B.L. Ullmann, Studies in the Italian Renaissance, Storia e Letteratura 51 (Rome, 1973), 113–​133; 118–​119, 132. 210 E.g. Petr. Invective contra Medicum, in Petrarca, Prose, ed. G. Martelloti, 672. 211 E.g. Petr. De ignorantia, in Petrarca Prose, ed. G. Martelloti, 722. 212 E.g. De vita solitaria 2,4, ed. G. Martelloti, in Petrarca, Prose, 440 (hereafter Book ii of Petrarch’s De vita solitaria will be cited as Petr. vita sol., with reference to this edition). 213 Petr. vita sol. 2,4 (440); see also the discussion below. 214 Évelyne Luciani, Les Confessions de Saint Augustin dans les Lettres de Pétrarque (Paris, 1982), 49–​54.

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academicos, Contra Iulianum, De beata vita, De gratia et libero arbitrio, De peccatorum meritis et remissione, the Epistolae, and the Retractationes,215 and we do know that he annotated Paris, BnF ms lat. 2103 containing a number of Augustine’s anti-​Pelagian writings.216 Yet the depth and erudition of Petrarch’s knowledge of Augustine must be questioned if Hans Baron was correct in arguing that Petrarch did not recognize Augustine’s De vera religione when he first acquired the work. Petrarch had the manuscript Paris, BnF lat. 2201 in his possession by 1335 and it was in this manuscript that Petrarch made his famous lists of his favorite books. The manuscript itself is included in List ii simply as Iste. The manuscript contains both Cassiodorus’s De anima as well as Augustine’s De vera religione. Though based on conjecture, Baron persuasively argued that Petrarch did not become aware that Augustine was the author of the second part of the manuscript, which contained a separate work, until the summer of 1337.217 This formed the basis of Baron’s defense of Petrarch’s account of his becoming acquainted with De vera religione as found in the Secretum. In other words, according to Baron, Petrarch was not feigning or fictionalizing. Yet Petrarch could not have had a deep or sophisticated knowledge of Augustine’s works if it took him at least two years to recognize that his Iste manuscript did not contain one work by one author, but two, and that the second was Augustine’s De vera religione, hardly an obscure text. Nevertheless, by 1346–​1347, Petrarch had thoroughly imbibed De vera religione, adding it to his growing knowledge of Augustine’s works that began with De civitate dei in 1325, his first acquisition, and then expanded to include the Confessiones in 1333. This is given ample evidence in his Liber de vita solitaria and De otio religioso, the origins of both date to this time, and the same holds true for the original creation of the Secretum. Thus, to gage Petrarch’s actual knowledge and use of Augustine at the time of his Secretum, I return first to his Liber de vita solitaria, and then De otio religioso, an analysis of which will place Petrarch’s fictionalizing of Augustine in proper perspective, offering additional evidence and argument that indeed Petrarch was not feigning.

2 15 Ibid., 31, 42–​54, 67, 156, 163–​169. 216 Carol Quillen, Rereading the Renaissance, 182. The manuscript contains De gratia et libero arbitrio, De correptione et gratia, Epistulae 214 and 215, the pseudo-​Augustinian De praedestinatione et gratia, Epistulae 225 and 226, De praedestinatione sanctorum, De dono perseverantiae, the pseudo-​Augustinian De praedestinatione dei, the Soliloquia, De sancta virginitate, De bono viduitatis, and Epistula 55; Quillen, Rereading the Renaissance, 223. 217 Baron, Petrarch’s Secretum, 202–​208.

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2.3.1 De Vita Solitaria According to Armando Maggi, “The primary inspiration for De vita solitaria is Augustine’s De vera religione … Together with the Confessiones, it is for Petrarch Augustine’s most influential work.”218 Likewise, in the fourteenth and fifteenth century De vita solitaria can be seen as Petrarch’s most influential work, as it was “along with De remediis utriusque fortune … Petrarch’s most transcribed text.”219 If this is indeed the case, De vita solitaria is an excellent example to use for discerning his Augustinianism. Composed originally in 1346, and essentially completed by 1356, Petrarch continued working on his treatise even after he sent the official copy to Philippe of Cabassoles in 1366.220 The work consists of two books, in the first of which, as discussed briefly above, Petrarch contrasts “two men with contrary characters,” namely, the solitary (solitarius) and the engaged (occuptaus),221 thus placing his work within the tradition of discussions concerning the vita contemplativa

218 Armando Maggi, “ ‘You will be my solitude.’ Solitude as Prophecy. De vita solitaria,” in Victoria Kirkham and Armando Maggi eds., Petrarch. A Critical Guide to the Complete Works (Chicago, 2009), 179–​195; 181. 219 Ibid., 180. 220 On the composition of the De vita solitaria, see B.L. Ullman, “The Composition of Petrarch’s De Vita Solitaria and the History of the Vatican Manuscript,” in idem, Studies in the Italian Renaissance, Storia et Letteratura, Raccolta di Studi et Testi 51 (Rome, 1973), 135–​175. 221 “Agamus ipsam rem et, quod promittimus, persolvamus; duos homines contrariis moribus, quos tibis describam, ante tue mentis oculos pone et, quod in illis vides, in cunctis existma.” Petr. vit. sol. I 1,8 (63,75–​78); cf.: Petr. vit. sol. I 9,35: “Scio hominem non dicam ut Paulus, sed hominem in corpore verum et in solitudine constitutum, agresti victu et studiis contentum suis, cui etsi multa desint ad felicem vitam, hoc non exiguum solitudinis munus adest, quod sine concursu hominum et sine tedio, sine ullis angoribus, totus illi annus lete ac tranquille quasi unus dies agitur, cum isti interim delicati urbani inter vina et epulas, inter rosas et unguenta, inter cantus et spectacula, Bacho madidi, somno marcidi, rerum fessi, undique tedio simul et voluptatibus diffluentes diem unum anno iudicent longiorem et vix paucas horas possint sine murmure fastidioque traducere.” Armando Maggi interpreted this passage as representing “Petrarch’s powerful self-​portrait as a new Saint Paul, to whom a life of solitude has granted an essential insight on the true nature of man.” Maggi, “You Will Be My Solitude,” 179. I have a difficult time accepting Maggi’s interpretation here, since Petrarch explicitly says non dicam ut Paulus; there seems to be a major disjunction between Paul’s ascent to the third heaven as the basis of his conversion, and the truly human man who lives a life of solitude. A better understanding, it seems to me, is that Petrarch is explicitly contrasting the man of solitude in this life with the spiritual/​mystical ascent of the saint; Petrarch’s solitude is very much a this worldly solitude, which he contrasts with that of Paul, who by no means lived a life sine murmure fastidioque.

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and the vita activa. His basis for doing so, as he asserts, is his own experience,222 even though book two of the work is a collection of exempla drawn from the saints. While such paradoxes are almost an identifying Petrarchan characteristic—​the solutions to which can reveal the “true Petrarch”—​my goal here is not to offer a reinterpretation of Petrarch as such, nor of his De vita solitaria, but rather to analyze Petrarch’s reliance on Augustine. If we approach De vita solitaria looking for Augustine, it is rather surprising to note that the model of the work, or at least its title, is, as Petrarch asserts, not Augustine, but Basil.223 Augustine is cited only three times in book one. The first citation does not come until ­chapter 5, where Petrarch discussed humans’ inability, or extreme difficulty, in seeing the condition of their own soul, being so easily caught by the senses.224 After extolling Cicero as an authority to be listened to, Petrarch continued by noting that other Christian authors agreed and he offered Augustine as evidence, noting that “Augustine seems to me to have treated this theme most of all in his book On True Religion.” Petrarch, though, does not quote from the text, but stays with Cicero, quoting from the Tusculan Disputations.225 The second reference to Augustine is found then in chapter seven, and here Petrarch does quote from Augustine, not, however, from De vera religione, but from De doctrina christiana. He does so to extol the virtues of

222 “In hoc autem tractatus magna ex parte solius experientie ducatum habui nec alium ducem querens nec oblatum admissurus liberiore quidem gressu, quanquam fortassis incautius, sequor animum meum quam aliena vestigia.” Petr. vit. sol. I 1,4 (62,34–​37). 223 “Scio quidem sanctos quosdam viros multa hinc scripsisse, nominatim vero Magnus ille Basilius librum parvum ‘De solitarie vite laubidus’ inscripsit, de quo preter titulum nichil teneo et, quod illum in quibusdam vetustissimis codicibus sic interdum Petri Damiani opusculis intersertum vidi, ut dubium me fecerit, an Basilii esset an Petri.” Petr. vit. sol. I 1,4 (62,30–​34). This work is actually, as Petrarch sensed, at least in part, chapter nineteen of Peter Damian’s De solitarie vite laudibus (pl 145,246C-​251B). Petrarch, however, did indeed take more from the treatise than the title; see Enenkle’s commentary, Petr. vit. sol. I 1,4 (168–​181). 224 Petr. vit. sol. I 5,7–​17 (91,60–​94,173). 225 “Quid hic prestigii est nisi quia, quem presentem corde credimus, oculis non videmus?—​Eoque relabimur, in quo eteres Cicero, qui Cristum certe non noverat, arguebat, ut ait: ‘Nichil animo videre poterant, ad oculos omnia referebant’ [Cicero, Tusc. 1,16,37]? Quodsi et nobis accidit et consilium optamus, idem nobis audiendus est Cicero, non quod alii, precipue ex nostris, desint, cum Augustinus ex hoc maxime librum Vere Religionis michi texuisse videatur; sed iuvat in re nostra peregrinum—​ut ita dixerim—​hominem audire, presertim cum unus idemque locus sit, ubi et vulnus aperuit et medicamenta composuit. Ait enim: ‘Magni autem est ingenii revocare mentem a sensibus et cogitationem a consuetudine abducere’ [Cicero, Tusc. 1,16,38]. In hoc ergo summis et nos viribus enitamur, ut sensibus domitis et victa consuetudine aliquid ‘animo videamus’ [Cicero, Tusc. 1,16,37].” Petr. vit. sol. I 5,14–​15 (93,139–​151).

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Cyprian, using Augustine as a testimony to Cyprian’s eloquence.226 The third and final citation to Augustine is found in chapter nine of book one, where Petrarch quotes Augustine’s De vera religione as evidence of the pernicious nature of desire.227 There is in addition an anonymous citation of Augustine’s Confessiones 1,1, when in chapter six, Petrarch asserts that “we are created by you for this end, so that we might find our rest in you,” which then Petrarch continues with a quotation from Cicero’s De officiis.228 Indeed, Cicero, Virgil, and Seneca are Petrarch’s primary authorities in book one, the explicit citations of which far exceed those to Augustine. Based on the citation of authorities, it is difficult to claim that Augustine had much of an influence at all. Augustine’s presence in book two of Petrarch’s De vita solitaria is more frequent: Augustine is cited eight times. Petrarch though only makes reference to De vera religione once, quoting the text as evidence that Christianity had spread

226 “Multum tempore posterior Ciprianus, fide autem prior et martyrio clarus nec obscures eloquio, tale quiddam et sensisse videtur et scripsisse; quod unum ex multis ingens mirator eius Augustinus in libris suis, quasi illius ingenii experimentum et eloquentie gustum, ponit, que in eo quanta esse potuerit, nisi gravitati rerum deditus verborum neglexisset ornatum, loci illius commemoratione notum nobis esse voluit. Ubi, ingenium exercens, non ait, ‘Hunc thalamum, loco abditum, cinctum muris, communitum seris, marmorea opacum celatumque testudine’ aut tale aliquid,—​sed quid?—​‘Petamus’, inquit, ‘hanc sedem. Deant scessum vicina secreta, ubi, dum erratic palmitum lapsus pendulis nexibus per harundines baiulas repunt, viteam porticum frondea tecta fecerunt’ [Augustine, doctr. chr. 14,31]. –​Ecce quam porticum et quam sedem ‘vir sanctus et eloquens’ [Augustine, doctr. chr. 14,31–​15,32] appetebat: vites, palmites, fronds, harundines et inter hec studiosis semper amabile secretum, quod utique non optaret, si preter muros ac tectum nullis bene secessibus ingenium crederetur.” Petr. vit. sol. I 7,12 (103,103–​117). 227 “De his in libro Vere Religionis Augustinus ‘Quibus,’ inquit, ‘vilis est corporis salus, malunt vesci quam satiari et malunt frui genitalibus membris quam nullam talem commotionem pati; Inveniuntur etiam, qui malint dormire quam non dormire, cum omnis illius voluptatis finis sit non esurire ac sitire et non desiderare concubitum et non esse fatigato corpore’; nec longe post ‘Qui sitire,’ inquit, ‘et esurire volunt et in libidinem ardescere et defatigari, ut libenter edant et bibant et concumbant et dormiant,’ non dixit ‘amant miseriam et dolorem (nemo est enim tam aversus a salute, ut doloris et miserie nomen amet), sed ‘amant’, inquit, ‘indigentiam, quod est initium summorum dolorum.’ [Augustine, de ver. rel. 53,102]. Constat autem, sicut effectus in causis, sic in amore causarum amorem effectuum contineri; itaque concludes terribiliter ‘Perficietur ergo,’ inquit, ‘in eis, quod amant, ut eis ibi sit ploratus et stridor dentium’ [Augustine, de ver. rel. 54,104].” Petr. vita sol. 1,9,6 (ed. Enenkel, 112,47–​56). 228 “His igitur pretermissis—​quanquam, bone Iesu, ad hunc finem create abs te, ut in te requiescamus [Augustine, conf. 1,1], ad hoc nati et sine hoc inutiliter atque infeliciter nati sumus—​quanti tandem, pater, extimes illa comunia: vivere, ut veils [Cicero, De officiis 1,20,70] …” Petr. vit. sol. i 6,2 (95,7–​10).

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to the entire world.229 The Confessiones are referenced three times, though without quotation and only once did Petrarch cite the title of the work, without giving more specific reference.230 De civitate dei is referenced once, referred to as “Augustine’s books on the heavenly republic,”231 and there is one reference to Epistola 155.232 There is one citation of Augustine as having followed the example of Basil,233 and there is one reference to the Sermones ad fratres suos 229 “Quicquid tamen hi omnes dicunt et plus aliquid paucissimis verbis amplectitur Augustinus libro Vere religionis haud procul a principio: ‘Per omnes’ inquit ‘terrarum partes, quas hominess incolunt, sacra Cristiana traduntur.’ [Aug. ver. rel. 3,5] Dictum breve, sed flebilem nobis, et quo facile damni totius cumulum metiare. ” Petr. vit. sol. ii, 9 (492). 230 Petr. vita sol. ii, 4 (438–​440); ii, 9 (488–​490); and ii, 12 (536). 231 “Qui locus ab Augustino in sue Celestis reipublice libris excussus curioseque tractatus est [civ. 19,21].” Petr. vit. sol. ii, 10 (500–​502). 232 “Vita felix et ad omne bonum opus aptissima, vita philosophica, poeticca, sancta, prophetica; vita non immerito singularis dicta et, si dicere audeam quod sentio, vita tam singularis ut ea sola vera vita sit, reliquis omnibus conveniat quod ait Cicero et Ciceronem secutus Augustinus, quod hec nostra que dicitur vita mors est. Vita demum nisi expertis incognita et ut habenti peramabilis, sic superoptabilis non habenti.” Petr. vit. sol. ii, 3 (428). The editor, Guido Martelloti, notes a parallel with Enarr. in psal. 118. Ep. 155 though seems to be the more precise referent: “Sanior quippe est ejusdem Ciceronis illa sententia, ubi ait: Nam haec vita quidem mors est, quam lamentari possem, si liberet (Cic. in Tusc. Quaest.). Quomodo ergo si recte lamentatur, beata comprobatur; ac non potius quoniam recte lamentatur, misera esse convincitur? Quare assuesce, obsecro te, vir bone, beatus esse interim spe, ut sis etiam re, cum pietati perseverantissimae retribuetur merces felicitatis aeternae.” Aug. ep. 155,1,4 (pl 33, col. 668); though De libero arbitrio could also have played a part: “Voluntas ergo adhaerens communi atque incommutabili bono, impetrat prima et magna hominis bona, cum ipsa sit medium quoddam bonum. Voluntas autem aversa ab incommutabili et communi bono, et conversa ad proprium bonum, aut ad exterius, aut ad inferius, peccat. Ad proprium convertitur, cum suae potestatis vult esse; ad exterius, cum aliorum propria, vel quaecumque ad se non pertinent, cognoscere studet; ad inferius, cum voluptatem corporis diligit: atque ita homo superbus, et curiosus, et lascivus effectus, excipitur ab alia vita, quae in comparatione superioris vitae mors est; quae tamen regitur administratione divinae providentiae, quae congruis sedibus ordinat omnia, et pro meritis sua cuique distribuit. Ita fit ut neque illa bona quae a peccantibus appetuntur, ullo modo mala sint, neque ipsa voluntas libera, quam in bonis quibusdam mediis numerandam esse comperimus; sed malum sit aversio ejus ab incommutabili bono, et conversio ad mutabilia bona: quae tamen aversio atque conversio, quoniam non cogitur, sed est voluntaria, digna et justa eam miseriae poena subsequitur.” Aug. lib. arb. 2,19,53 (pl 32, col. 1269). 233 “Cuius vite quantus illi semper amor fuerit, hinc elicis, quod iam ante, sub recentem ex atheniensi auditorio digressum, Basilium Cesariensem famosum compatriotam et collegam atque, ut famam secutus Augustinus ait, etiam carne germanium suum e cathedra magisterii detractatum, ubi ille rethoricam florentissime docebat, iniecta manu ad solitudinem et ad meloria studia insigni quadam amoris fiducia et autoritate deduxerat.” Petr. vit. sol. ii, 14 (578).

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in eremo.234 This last reference is perhaps the most interesting of all. The earliest extant collections giving the group of sermons their title only dates to the early 1340s with Jordan of Quedlinburg’s Collectanea Sancti Augustini, the autograph of which he presented to the library of the Augustinian studium in Paris in 1341, and Robert de Bardis’ Collectorium Sermonum Sancti Augustini, dating to the mid-​1340s.235 If Petrarch knew of the work already c. 1346/​47, it is one of the earliest testimonies we have. Yet according to Ullman, this section of De vita solitaria was added by Petrarch c. 1353, namely, the same time as the final version of the Secretum, his letter to Giacomo Colonna, and his description of his assent of Mont Ventoux.236 He, though, seemingly had not read it, or not very closely, for according to the Sermones, Augustine first founded his monastery of hermits in Thagaste. Petrarch, however, claims that Augustine first founded a monastery in Mons Pisanus. There is no reference to Mons Pisanus in the Sermones, though the later tradition that this was the place where Augustine had first established his order of hermits is well documented, but is so only from the later fifteenth century, even though the first reference dates to the commentary on Augustine’s Rule attributed to Hugh of St. Victor.237 The Anonymous Initium Ordinis Sancti Augustini stated that due to the lack of evidence it was unclear whether Augustine had first established his order of hermits in Centumcellis, or in Mons Pisanus. Yet subsequent authors, from Nicolas of Alessandria to Henry of Friemar, definitively asserted Centumcellis as the location of Augustine’s first monastic foundation. Jordan of Quedlinburg refutes this in his Vita Sancti Augustini, also contained in his Collectanea, based on the Sermones.238 Aside from the Initium, which left the matter open to conjecture, Petrarch’s reference to Mons Pisanus is the earliest I have found with the exception of Hugh. Thereafter we do not find references to Mons Pisanus, at least with respect to texts authored by the Hermits themselves, or directly influenced by them, until the cycle of Augustine’s life painted

234 “Denique per omnem vitam solitariis et quietis locis atque inter cetera pisani montis otio delectatus, et illic heremitico habitu traxisse moras creditor, et ad loci illius heremitas liber suo quidem prescriptus est nomine.” Petr. vit. sol. ii, 4 (440). 235 For the Sermones, see Saak, Creating Augustine, 81–​137.; see also Saak, “Augustine and Augustinianism in the Fourteenth Century.” 236 Ullman, “Petrarch’s De vita solitaria,” 154–​155. 237 K.A. Zins, St. Augustine Among the Mendicants: The Order of Hermits and early Renaissance Art in Italy, PhD Dissertation, The Pennsylvania State University, ProQuest Dissertations Publishing, 2016, nr. 10583709, 85–​90. 238 See Saak, “Augustinian Identity.”

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by Benozzo Gozzoli in San Gimignano dated 1465.239 It could very well be that Petrarch’s De vita solitaria was the source of this tradition. It is also, though, certainly possible that he had heard of this tradition from his friends within the oesa, namely, Dionysius de Burgo of San Sepulchro, or the hermits in Pavia; in other words, that the Mons Pisanus tradition was already established, perhaps stemming from Hugh and the Initium, within the oesa as an oral tradition that was just never adopted by the order’s authors. Whatever may have been the true origins of the Mons Pisanus legend, Petrarch’s work, as one of his most widely spread, certainly contributed to the myth and thus played an important role in Augustine’s late medieval reception. Yet the texts of Augustine himself received no such impetus from Petrarch’s De vita solitaria. The extent of Petrarch’s knowledge of Augustine’s works was rather minimal. Based on his use of Augustine, Petrarch’s knowledge of Augustine was far inferior, far less extensive, and far less erudite than the use of Augustine found in the likes of John of Wales, Jacques Legrand, or Robert Grosseteste. This could, however, be a matter of ‘style’. Perhaps Petrarch did not find it necessary to flaunt his detailed knowledge, to cite Augustine chapter and verse, and pile on parallel passages to a single quotation or reference. That could well be, but he certainly did seem to flaunt his knowledge of classical texts. There is no textual basis or evidence to claim that Augustine’s De vera religione, or even Augustine himself, served as Petrarch’s model for his De vita solitaria. 2.3.2 De Otio Religioso When we turn to Petrarch’s De otio religioso, however, we find a more complex picture. Here Augustine had a far more frequent presence than he did in Petrarch’s De vita solitaria. Augustine is cited thirty-​two times. De civitate dei is the work most frequently referenced, with eleven citations, and often Petrarch cited the work giving reference to the specific book.240 De vera religione is the second most frequently cited text of Augustine with seven citations, followed by the Confessiones with six. There are eight unspecific references to Augustine

239 Ibid, Creating Augustine, pp. 179–​183; Alessandro Cosma, Gli Eremitani e L’immagine di Sant’Agostino nel XV secolo tra ‘vecchie’ e ‘nuove’ Iconografie, in Alessandro Cosma and Gianni Pittiglio, Iconografia Agostiniana xli/​2 Il Quattrocento, vol. 1 (Rome, 2010), 31–​51. 240 “Nam ut in extremo Civitatis dei angulo scriptum liquit Augustinus: ‘Quis alius nsoter est finis nisi pervenire ad regnum cuius nullus est finis?’ [Aug. civ. 22,30]” Francesco Petrarca, De otio religioso 2, ed. Giuseppe Rotondi (Rome, 1958), 90,19–​21 (hereafter cited as: Petr. otio rel, with page references to the edition given in parenthesis).

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with no apparent source as such.241 De otio religioso was composed at the same general time as, though afterwards, De vita solitaria, since Petrarch referenced it in De otio as a work he “recently published.”242 Nevertheless, he continued to revise the text, as he did his De vita solitaria, until he sent the completed version to his brother Gherardo, a Carthusian in Montrieux.243 As important as Petrarch’s reliance on Augustine in De otio religioso for determining his reception of Augustine, is Petrarch’s testimony to Augustine’s influence at the end of the work. After exhorting the monks to the study of Scripture, Petrarch confessed that he had been a lover of secular literature since his childhood, and rather than having had teachers of the holy scriptures, as had Jerome, he had had teachers who ridiculed the Psalms and every page of the divine text. He was an example of an education that led to the study of civil law and the administrative arts filled with the avarice of worldly gain rather than with the scriptures of salvation; this held true too for many who did indeed study the Scriptures, but did so for wealth, turning the divine grace of heavenly eloquence into a worldly business.244 But then Petrarch became 241 E.g.: “Qui sensus meis utcunque verbis expressus, magna fateor ex parte, quo fidentius utamini, de sanctorum et ante alios Augustini dictis excerptus est.” Petr. otio rel. 1 (50,12–​14). 242 “Sileo et material et stilo valde cognatum De solitaria vita nuper edidi …” Petr. otio rel. 1 (6,27–​29). 243 Susanna Barsella, “A Humanist Approach to Religious Solitude: De otio religioso,” in Kirkham and Maggi, eds., Petrarch, 197–​208; 198. 244 “Quicquid reliquum est, nequid suum apud vos neve ullam in animas vestras rimulam coluber ille tortuosos inveniat, literis sacris impendite; in his exercete animum, fratres; hic oculos, hic aures, hic linguam occupate, hoc agite, hoc cogitate; nil melius, nil fructuosius potestis, nil amenius … Et sane quod nunc assero ante non multos annos forte vel tacite negassem: Illi gratias qui michi oculos aperuit ut aliquando viderem quod cum magno discrimine non videbam, quemque nunc etiam caligantes oculos purgaturum spero ad reliqua que damnosa tarditate nondum video, quam in me hactenus minus miror, cum Ieronimum ipsum de se fatentem audiam, quod sibi in libris gentilium occupato cum se ad sacra vertisset elqouia … Quod si ei tali viro et in libris sacris ab adolescentia exercitatissimo potuit evenire, quid non potuit michi peccatori literis secularibus non dicam erudito, ne mentiar, sed ab infantia delectato, qui magistros habui non Gregorium Nazanzenum, ut ille, seu quempiam et si non alti ingenii at fidelis saltem devotique animi, sed eos qui psalterium daviticum, qua nulla pregnantior scriptura est, et omnem divine textum pagine non aliter quam aniles fabulas irriderent? Quali ergo animus tener ac cereus impressione formandus fuit! O quanta deberet esse patribus cura filiorum, etate ita flexibili, si filios, ut fama est, et non se ipsos, imo verius nec se ipsos, sed sperata de filiis comoda diligerent! Unde est quod ad civilia iura ad artes avaritie ministras, ad inanem eloquentiam infelices pueri nutriuntur, salutaris Scriptura contemnitur deseriturque et siquis illam amplectitur lucrum cogitat, lucrum sperat: ita iam divina celestium eloquiorum gratia in negotium humanum terreni mercimonii versa est.” Petr. otio rel. 2 (103,2–​104,4).

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personal. He returned to himself, as he put it, and claimed that by God’s guidance, in his older years, he began to hesitate and to step back from his previous attachments, and in this context became confronted with Augustine’s Confessiones.245 Petrarch then gave the Confessiones the importance to himself that Augustine had given to Cicero,246 claiming that the Confessiones “was the first to bring me to the love of the true, it was the first to teach me to breathe healthfully, while I had for so long previously only breathed morbidly. May he rest happily in the age without end by whose hand that book was first offered to me, which gave a bridle to my wild soul.”247 Petrarch continued to explain that he was reluctant to follow Augustine’s council at first, afraid of losing his life-​long ambitions, for Augustine was calling him away from his studies of the classics; but in time, though at first slowly, he began following Augustine more and more so that he became happier than he had hoped. Petrarch had changed paths.248 What is rather stunning here is the dating of Petrarch’s autobiographical account. He is clear that his conversion occurred after his fortieth year (iam senior), which would place his experience with Augustine’s Confessiones after 20 July 1344 yet before 1347. What is being described is Petrarch’s “conversion experience,” which he placed in 1336 in his account of his ascent of Mont Ventoux. Rico pointed to the spurious dating of fam. iv,1, persuasively arguing that the letter was composed c. 1353.249 The 1336 dating fits with Petrarch’s attempt to represent his own biography in keeping with that of Augustine’s, whereby Petrarch was thirty-​two years of age in 1336 as was Augustine in 386,

245 “Redeo autem ad me ipsum. Sero, iam senior, nullo duce, primo quidem hesitare, deinde vero pedetentim retrocedere ceperam, ac disponente Illo, qui malis nostris ad gloriam suam semper, sepe etiam ad salutem nostram uti novit, inter fluctuationes meas, quas si percurrere cepero et michi confessionum liber ingens ordiendus erit, Augustini Confressionum liber obvius fuit.” Petr. otio rel. 2 (104,5–​10). 246 “Cur enim de illo non fateor, quod ille de M. Tullio fatetur?” Petr. otio rel. 2 (104,10–​11). 247 “Ille me primum ad amorem veri erexit, ille me primum docuit suspirare salubriter, qui tam diu ante letaliter suspirassem. Quiescat in secula sine fine felix, cuius manu ille michi primum liber oblatus est, qui vago animo frenum dedit.” Petr. otio rel. 2 (104,11–​14). 248 “Sequi illum incipio, verecundus adhuc, ut quem puderet mutare consilium, qui superborum mos est, revocantibus me studiis meis antiquis et consuetudine violenta et despaeratione profectus et perdendi metu quod per omnem vitam, quamvis exiguum, non exiguo sudore paraveram; sequor tamen, primum lente, solis ad id reliquiis temporum deputatis, deinde celeriuscule, postremo celeriter, siquo modo possem, quod ait Seneca, ‘tempus celeritate reparare’. Successit, agente Deo, felicius quam sperabam. Ab illo igitur primum raptus et a semitis meis parumper abductus sum.” Petr. otio rel. 2 (104,16–​25). 249 Rico, “Precisazioni di cronologia petrarchesca: le Familiares VIII, 2–​5 e i rifacimenti del Secretum,” Giornale storico della lett. Italiana clv (1978): 481–​525.

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the date of his conversion in the garden in Milan. Hans Baron, focusing on Petrarch’s account of his conquering his lust, pointed to the year forty as the one of seminal importance, whereby in his Letter to Posterity Petrarch had claimed that he had become chaste before he had turned forty.250 As Baron argued, “Petrarch already viewed forty as the critical age by which a Christian ought to find fulfillment and overcome the Seven Deadly Sins; this is the standard he would have wished to follow.”251 Petrarch dated his dialogue with Augustine as recounted in the Secretum to between November 1342 and April 1343,252 or about a year and a half before his fortieth birthday, which again witnesses his having become chaste before forty years of age, though elsewhere Petrarch was clear that it was only from 1350 that he had been chaste.253 Baron argued for the sincerity of the Secretum based on Petrarch having admitted in the text that he had not yet become completely chaste which therefore contradicted the forty-​year scheme as presented in the Posteritati.254 If such an argument can hold for Petrarch’s truthfulness and sincerity regarding his overcoming his lust, then this passage in De otio religioso should be taken as truthful and sincere, namely, that it was only after his fortieth year that he was converted by the Confessiones. What this means is that Petrarch’s “Mt. Ventoux experience,” and therefore his beginning to have followed Augustine, was a real experience, regardless of whether it occurred on a mountain top, dated not to 1336, but to between 1344 and 1347. Moreover, it was not a sudden conversion based on his reading of Augustine’s text, but rather took some time; it was a process and a progression from his attachment to the classics to his attachment to Augustine.255 2 50 251 252 253 254 255

Hans Baron, Petrarch’s Secretum, 208–​214. Ibid., 209. Ibid., 203. Ibid., 212. Ibid., 211, 214. As Baron has argued: “It is incorrect to say that the Secretum points to an impending ‘conversion’ of Petrarch’s. Whereas this term applies to the lives of Augustine and Gherardo, Petrarch’s life was one of labor and secular pursuits.” Baron, Petrarch’s Secretum, 242, n. 76. The ‘conversion’ Baron refers to here though is a sudden conversion, and a complete conversion to monastic/​religious life. It is questionable whether anyone, including Augustine and Gherardo, was ever converted subito as is so often found as a description of such; one cannot read Augustine’s account of the tolle, lege, scene as reflecting the ‘historical’ reality either, recognizing the Confessions as a work of high literary art, and as the text also points out, Augustine’s conversion was a process over time. Petrarch does not depict what I am calling here his ‘conversion’ in sudden terms, and that is not my intent either; he is pointing to a change of direction, a beginning of a new path and/​or new interests and focus. For how this relates to the Secretum, see below.

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The account though is not without its problems. We know that Petrarch had the Confessiones in his possession already in 1333, and in 1335 he listed the Confessiones as one of his favorite books. Yet there is nothing in his account in De otio religioso that claims that he only came into possession of the Confessiones at the time of his conversion. Nor is there any evidence that indicates that in 1333 or 1335 the Confessiones had had the impact on Petrarch as related in De otio religioso.256 It seems that either Petrarch was creating a fictitious biography for himself in De otio religioso, or we have to accept that Petrarch possessed the Confessiones and even listed it as one of his favorite books before the work had the impact on him that he described. Could Petrarch have been reading the Confessiones for ten years before being confronted with the text the way Augustine had been confronted with the Hortensius? There is little evidence indeed in De otio religioso to claim that Petrarch was fictionalizing or using deceit. Susanna Barsella has recently argued that whereas De otio religioso “has been traditionally considered an anomalous work, apparently in contradiction with Petrarch’s humanism and a step back into medieval exaltation of monastic spirituality,” it is more accurately read as presenting “a humanist approach to religious solitude,” introducing “a new perspective on monastic spiritual activity.”257 De otio religioso is in this light contrasted with De vita solitaria, Petrarch’s “treatise on lay solitude.”258 This dichotomy, however, leads to a misunderstanding of the work. No where in De otio religioso did Petrarch address the vita monastica as such. The two works are complimentary, not contrasting. The solitary life is the goal for all Christians, and within the context of the vita solitaria, religious leisure is the highest form of such a life, which, though, is not equated with the solitary life. Whereas Maggi, as stated above, considered De vera religione as the model for De vita solitaria, here we have seen that based on Petrarch’s actual use of Augustine, Maggi’s position strains the issue beyond the evidence. Moreover, in De otio religioso, Petrarch identified religious leisure with De vera religione,259 and indeed, as already pointed out, De vera religione is the second most frequently cited text of Augustine in Petrarch’s De otio religione. De vera religione was not a work intended for monastics and neither was Petrarch’s De otio religioso as

256 A similar ‘delayed impact’ is seen in Petrarch’s reception of De vera religione; Baron, Petrarch’s Secretum, 6. 257 Susanna Barsella, “A Humanstic Approach to Religious Solitude,” in Kirkham and Maggi, eds., Petrarch, 197–​208; 197. 258 Ibid., 198. 259 “… loquenti enim de otio religioso, quid oportunius quam Vere religionis liber astipuletur? …” Petr. otio rel. 1 (18,23–​24).

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such, even though it was addressed to monks and even though taking vows was the easiest way to achieve religious leisure. Yet it was not without its dangers. If religious leisure was not used properly, a “tumultuous business” could arise within the monastery.260 The monastic life was one way of achieving the solitary life, but as Petrarch asserted in De vita solitaria, one could live a life of solitude outside the monastery, even as he offered numerous monastic examples of such solitude in book two.261 Religious leisure was necessary for the vita solitaria as such, even if the monastic life was the ‘easier way, though not without its own dangers. Religious leisure was necessary for it was the means by which humans could see God and learn of God’s ways.262 Petrarch asserted that many things at last are pursued to the extent that it is understood from the Gospels, the Apostle Paul, and lastly as well from certain illustrious religions that have arisen within the Church in these most recent times. For me currently it suffices to grasp what pertains to the person of Christ himself, all of which we see having been fulfilled in the very order in which 260 “Inter hec vivimus; in hanc temproum particulam coniecti sumus: his moribus non utendum dico, sed resistendum. Quod nobis niseris, quibus adhuc inter seculi fluctus anceps navigatio agitur, laboriosum longeque difficile dixerim; nam et estu rapimur rerum temporalium, nec plus otii contigit quam quod nobis peccatorum et occupationum nostrarum intermissione permittitur. Vobis vero iam portus tuta tenentibus circumspectio provisioque facilior multo est. Abscidistis quidem mundi nodos, negotiorum laqueos, vincula rerum; nudi et liberi multis et tempestatibus enatastis, ubi quiescere liceat et vacare. Itaque ad illud eximium salutis studium cui uni, neglectis omnibus aliis, intendistis, necessario otio abundantes, hoc tam magno licet paucis cognito Dei dono utimini parce, sobrie, solicite, nequa vobis ex otio, ut fit, tumultuosior occupatio renascatur: otio etenim est opus non resoluto et inerti atque evervante animos, sed strenuo et, quod maxime vestrum est, religioso et pio.” Petr. otio rel. 1 (42,28–​43,6). 261 Thus in book one Petrarch wrote: “Sic itaque solitudinem amplector, ut amicitiam non repellam neque fugiam etiam unum, nisi forsan is ipse sit, cuius mores etiam in urbibus fugiendos vite tranquillitas non negligenda suadeat. Tota res igitur ad hoc redit, ut, sicut cetera omnia, sic ipsam solitudinem cum amicis partiar, nullius boni sine sotio iocundam possessionem humanius ab eodem Seneca dictum credens, solitudinem vero magnum et dulce bonum esse non dubitans.” Petr. vita sol. 1,7,25 (ed. Enenkel, 107,226–​232). Yet in book two, Petrarch gives a number of short vitae as examples of the life of solitude, beginning with Adam and other biblical figures through Jeremiah, Petr. vita sol. 2 (ed. Martellotti, 418–​428), before then turning to Ambrose (ibid. 430ff), St. Martin (ibid., 436ff), and Augustine (ibid., 438ff), and then continued with numerous others, while concluding: “Cuius quidem non assertor adhuc magis audax, quam solitius inquisitor sim … Hec ergo non diffinitor, sed scrutator vestigatorque tractdaverim.” Petr. vita sol. 2 (ed. Martellotti, 588). 262 Petr. otio rel. 1 (2,23–​10,2).

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they were predicted, with the exception of the last judgment, which we expect as a certain event, though we are doubtful of when it will come.263 Petrarch’s own experience of religious leisure though is placed in doubt when lamented: We are incapable and unworthy to perceive God’s gifts, and in truth that thought often agitates the souls of many. God, certainly, is the best; I, however, am the worst; and what can the proportion be in such a great opposition? … I confess the infinite mercy of God, but of that mercy I acknowledge that I do not have the capacity, and how much that mercy is greater, to the same extent certainly does my busy mind become increasingly restricted by vices. Nothing is impossible for God; in me is all impossibility of rising up from the immense depths of my sins. God is able to save; I do not know what being saved is.264 While Petrarch is not as such speaking of himself in this passage, he certainly does not exclude himself therefrom. His own struggle with leading a solitary life of religious leisure is clear, especially when he concludes the work not by asking the monks to pray for him, but rather to weep for him, with an exhortation to the brothers to seek religious leisure, to see, and to rejoice; they are the happy, if they can only come to know themselves and the good they are.265 While De otio religioso can be seen as Petrarch asserting his own authority to “sermonize,”266 we must realize that he was doing so not only to his brother and his brother’s confrères, but also to himself. As he stated in fam. xxii,10, 263 “Multa deinceps exequitur quantum datur intelligi de evangelistis, de Paulo apostolo, ad postremum de quibusdam quoque religionibus claris, que in ecclesia his diebus novissimis sunt exorte. Michi ad presens que ad ipsius Cristi personam attinent attigisse suffecerit, que omnia eo ordine quo predicta erant impleta conspicimus; preter ultimum scilicet iudicium quod de re certi, de tempore dubii, expectamus.” Petr. otio rel. 1 (27,27–​33). 264 “… nos ad perceptionem divinorum munerum inhabiles et indignos. Er re vera sepe illa cogitatio multorum anios turat: Deus quidem optimus, ego autem pessimus; quenam in tanta contrarietate proportio? … Infinitam Dei misericordiam fateor, sed eius profiteor me non capacem, et quanto illa maior tanto quidem vitiis occupata mea mens angustior. Nichil impossibile Deo est; in me est omnis impossibilitas assurgendi tanta peccatorum mole obruto. Salvare ille potens est: ego salvari nequeo.” Petr. otio rel. 1 (24,33–​25,9). 265 “Quiescite ergo, vacate, otium agite, videte, gaudete, pro me flete, et mei memores valete. O felices, si vos ipsos et bona vestra cognoscitis.” Petr. otio rel. 2 (106,16–​18). 266 “Ita vero moderabor stilum, ut quasi ad presentes sermo michi sit ad absentes epystola, quamvis, ut quod est fatear, et maiore et meliore mei parte sim presens.” Petr. otio rel. 1 (2,20–​22).

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Petrarch viewed his progression as having taken on a “greater task” becoming “more concerned with salvation than with eloquence,”267 which parallels his depiction of his conversion in De otio. Given the multiple accounts Petrarch gave of his conversion, one would, I would claim, be hard pressed to argue that it was all due to his deceit, that Petrarch all the while was simply feigning. The problem is dating such a conversion. If it occurred in 1336, the explicit dating of his ascent of Mont Ventoux, this is contradicted by De otio’s placing it after 1344, and by Rico’s redating of fam. iv,1 to c. 1353. If it occurred in 1342, the assumed date of the Secretum, it is contradicted by the redating of the Secretum to from 1347 to 1353. An early dating of Petrarch’s conversion seems untenable. The account in De otio, therefore, assumes more validity, since it is generally accepted that 1346/​1347 was a period during which Petrarch went through a personal, spiritual crisis. This was the time when he composed his De vita solitaria, De otio religioso, and the first draft of his Secretum. It was also the time when he had first visited his brother Gherardo in his monastery in Montrieux, which seems to have been a significant experience for Petrarch. A year or so thereafter, Petrarch wrote to Gherardo that while Gherardo had been freed from the snares of secular concerns, he, Petrarch himself, was still bound, either because he was “turned in” upon worldly matters, or because he was relying on his own powers rather than God’s mercy.268 This statement was penned after his account of his conversion in De otio, but we must remember that that account is one of progress and development, step by step, so that it is entirely in keeping with his letter to his brother the following year. Moreover, it is also in his letter to Gherardo that we find an important piece of evidence for Petrarch’s sincerity with respect to his devotion to Augustine, which then helps to confirm the role he gave Augustine in De otio. Near the beginning of his letter to his brother, Petrarch defends his use of secular sources for exhorting Gherardo to fully embrace the life he has chosen: “Suffer me to use secular testimonies with you, which not only Ambrose, our Augustine, and Jerome readily called upon, but even the Apostle Paul was not embarrassed to use at 267 “Sed iam michi maius agitur negotium, maiorque salutis quam eloquentie cur est.” Petr. fam. xxii,10,6; as quoted by Quillen, Rereading the Renaissance, 109, n. 13. 268 “Michi autem adhuc restat de quo tecum, si pateris, Deus meus, disceptare velim. Quid est enim, reponde michi, quod cum ego et grater meus gemino laqueo teneremur, utrunque contrivit manus tua, sed non ambo pariter liberati sumum? … Frater ergo rite cecinit erecto ad celum animo, ego terrena cogitans et curvatus in terram; et forte liberatricem dexteram non agnovi, forte de propriis viribus speravi; aut hoc aut aliud causa est cur effracto laqueo non sim liber. Misereberis, Domine, ut dignus sim cui amplius miserearis; sine gratuita enim misericordia tua nullatenus potest humana miseria misericordiam promereri.” Petr. fam. x,3 (926).

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times.”269 While usually Petrarch used the possessive noster to refer to Christian as distinct from pagan authors, here he specifically used it to refer to Augustine within a list of Christian authors.270 While Ambrose, Augustine, and Jerome were all noster in the sense of Christian authors, Augustine was apparently especially so for Petrarch and Gherardo. Petrarch was expressing his special affinity with Augustine, and one that he perhaps shared with Gherardo. This revealing possessive gives a credibility to Petrarch’s estimation of Augustine and serves as an authentication of his account of Augustine’s impact on his development in De otio.271 In this case, we must take Petrarch at his word: his confrontation with Augustine’s Confessiones, after his fortieth year, effected his conversion, his change from being primarily interested in the classics to becoming preoccupied with Christian texts. While this determination certainly does not resolve all the questions concerning Petrarch’s development, it can be taken as evidence that with respect to Augustine he was in no way feigning. And finally, De otio, together with De vita solitaria, provides the immediate context for Petrarch’s Secretum. 2.3.3 Secretum Yet even when we recognize the special affinity Petrarch had for Augustine, we must likewise note the basis thereof. The Confessiones, De civitate dei, and De vera religione comprise the texts Petrarch most relied on and knew best. These works, together with the Soliloquia and the Pseudo-​Augustinian De orando deo, were the works Petrarch listed as among his favorites in 1335. But here we must also note that, as Ullman argued, these works were listed by Petrarch as reliquos. Thus, his note to his list should read: “My specially prized books. To the others I usually resort not as a deserter but as a scout.”272 In this light, while Ullman’s correction of the earlier reading of this note as referring to “other”

269 “Patere autem me secularibus tecum uti testimoniis, quibus non solum Ambrosius et Augustinus noster ac Ieronimus abundant, sed et apostolus Paulus uti interdum non erubuit.” Petr. fam. x,3 (918). 270 E.g.: “… historici Tuchididem, Salustium, Herodotum, Livium; oratores Lisiam, Graccos, Demosthenem, Tullium et, ut ad nostra veniamus, epyscopi et presbiteri habeant in exemplum apostolos et apostolicos viros, quorum honorem possidentes habere nitantur et meritum. Nos autem habemus propositi nostri principes Paulum, Antonium, Iulianum, Hilarionem …” Petr. De otio 1 (ed. Rotondi, 48,13–​18); “… nobis audiendus est Cicero, non quod alii, precipue ex nostris, desint …” Petr. vita sol. 1,5,15 (ed. Enenkel, 93,143–​144). 271 As Alexander Lee put it: “But of all Christian writers, St. Augustine commanded Petrarch’s most profound respect and was the object of his most lasting devotion.” Lee, Petrarch and Augustine, 2. 272 Ullman, “Petrarch’s Favorite Books,” 114–​115.

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rather than to “religious works”—​and thus these “other,” namely, the books listed in List iii, that is, the texts of Augustine, are too to be considered among Petrarch’s favorites—​is of central importance, we must also note that they were so as works Petrarch resorted to “as a scout,” which gives added weight to the argument that while Petrarch possessed the Confessessiones as early as 1333, the work did not have its full impact on him until his conversion of 1344–​1347. When the evidence is surveyed as such, we can say that by 1347, the date of the first draft of the Secretum, Petrarch had developed a special affinity to Augustine, but one that was relatively recent, and one that was based upon a very few select texts of Augustine. If, therefore, we consider Petrarch to have developed his humanism already before 1344–​47, we must question Kristeller’s assertion that: “The return from nature to man, which is so characteristic of Petrarch, and the whole emphasis on man which became so important throughout the Renaissance, is here, in its origin, connected with the name and doctrine of Augustine,”273 as well as reasserting the speculation of Ullman that Petrarch … must have possessed scores of other books, which he read as we read most books, rapidly and once only. But the books in the select lists are those which Petrarch read again and again and which remained his favorites throughout his life. He was no mere book collector, nor was he an ordinary reader of the books he so eagerly gathered about him. Perhaps the secret of his humanism may be found in the fact that he read over and over again with intense zest these few favorite books.274 While the Confessiones has often been seen as the literary model for Petrarch’s Secretum, and indeed for his portrayal of his life as such, we come to realize, in light of his description in De otio, that the conversion there articulated was not related to Augustine’s conversion in the Milanese garden of Confessiones 8,12, but rather, as argued above, to Augustine’s first conversion to philosophy upon reading Cicero’s Hortensius, detailed in Confessiones 3, 4. In De otio, Petrarch asserted that Augustine’s Confessiones had meant to him what Cicero had meant to Augustine. In his account of his ascent of Mont Ventoux, though dating to 1353, Petrarch confirmed this interpretation when his mountain top experience, which does bear similarities to Confessiones 8,12, nevertheless was not complete, but a point of departure on a path that was still being pursued,

2 73 Kristeller, “Augustine and the Early Renaissance,” 362. 274 Ullman, “Petrarch’s Favorite Books,” 132–​133.

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and for which Petrarch asked for Dionysius’s prayers. The only similarity in fact to Confessiones 8,12 that we find in Petrarch’s works as a whole is the sortes Augustinianae, Petrarch’s having opened the Confessiones and reading the first passage his eyes fell upon, and having had that passage speak to him. Every other indication we have from Petrarch regarding his conversion is that Augustine’s Confessiones served as his point of departure, as Cicero’s Hortensius had done for Augustine himself, whereby his complete conversion was still to be accomplished, and one that for Petrarch, never was, as indicated by his asking for his brother and his brother’s confrères to weep for him. Though the Confessiones was indeed a model for Petrarch, and even if he took the tolle, lege scene as an inspiration for his letter to Dionysius (fam. iv,1), in terms of his own biography and personal development, Petrarch followed the Confessiones up to book eight, chapter eleven; he remained a conflicted soul, one that had not achieved the final solution and/​or resolution, though he saw at times clearly the requisite path thereto. And this was the context of the Secretum. The title itself is telling. In his Prologue to the work, Petrarch addressed his “little book” exhorting it to flee from the gatherings of men and to be content to remain with him “for you are my secret and thus you will be called; and when I am busy with more elevated issues, you will remind me in secret of what you have remembered was said in secret.”275 Baron has convincingly argued that we should take Petrarch at his word here and believe that he did indeed intend to keep the work “secret”276 and thus its title, but there could be other connotations. Rico pointed to Isaiah 24:16 as having possibly been in Petrarch’s thoughts,277 but Petrarch could also have been drawing on the Confessiones themselves.278 And yet, an important model for the Secretum was not Augustine 275 “Tueque ideo, libelle, conventus hominum fugiens, mecum mansisse contentus eris, nominis proprii non immemor. Secretum enim meum es et diceris; michique in altioribus occupato, ut unumquodque in abdito dictum meministi, in abdito memorabis.” Petr. secr. Proh. 4,2 (6). 276 Baron, Petrarch’s Secretum, 185–​196. 277 “A finibus terrae laudes audivimus gloriam iusti et dixi secretum meum mihi secretum meum mihi vae mihi praevaricantes praevaricati sunt et praevaricatione transgressorum praevaricati sunt. Is. 24:16.” Rico, Lectura, 34 n. 99. 278 “Et descendit huc ipsa Vita nostra, et tulit mortem nostram, et occidit eam de abundantia vitae suae: et tonuit clamans, ut redeamus hinc ad eum in illud secretum unde processit ad nos, in ipsum primum virginalem uterum, ubi ei nupsit humana creatura, caro mortalis, ne esset semper mortalis; et inde velut sponsus procedens de thalamo suo, exsultavit ut gigas ad currendam viam (Ps. 18:6).” Aug. conf. 4,12,19 (pl 32, col. 701); “Neque enim secretum meum non erat, ubi ille aderat: aut quando me sic affectum desereret? Sedimus, quantum potuimus remoti ab aedibus. Ego fremebam spiritu indignans turbulentissima indignatione, quod non irem in placitum et pactum tecum, Deus meus, in quod eundum esse omnia ossa mea clamabant, et in coelum tollebant laudibus: et non illuc ibatur

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at all, but Boethius’s Consolatio Philosophiae. Just as Lady Philosophy sought to lead Boethius back to himself, thereby healing his soul, so did Lady Truth treat Petrarch,279 and in this sense, the Secretum is a Consolatio. Yet the parallels end here. In the Secretum, Truth brings in Augustine to serve as medicus, very much in keeping with Augustine’s own understanding of gratia sanans.280 It is, though, the very figure of Augustinus that has played a central role in the interpretation of the work, namely, the extent to which the Augustinus of the Secretum is related to the historical Augustine. When read in context of De vita solitaria and De otio religioso, the Augustinus of the Secretum becomes more difficult to dismiss as Petrarch’s fiction. That Augustinus was a fictional character in Petrarch’s dialogue is without question, but the issue is the extent to which Petrarch was using Augustinus as a figure representing something other than Augustine. Petrarch fiercely defended his adherence to Augustine in his letter to Giacomo Colonna, as discussed above,

navibus aut quadrigis, aut pedibus, quantum saltem de domo in eum locum ieram, ubi sedebamus. Nam non solum ire, verum etiam pervenire illuc, nihil erat aliud quam velle ire, sed velle fortiter et integre; non semisauciam hac atque hac versare et jactare voluntatem, parte assurgente cum alia parte cadente luctantem.” Aug. conf. 8,8 (pl 32, col. 758). It is also possible that De vera religione was in Petrarch’s mind as well: “Quisquis autem populi terreni temporibus usque ad illuminationem interioris hominis meruit pervenire, genus humanum pro tempore adjuvit, exhibens ei quod aetas illa poscebat, et per prophetiam intimans id quod exhibere opportunum non erat: quales Patriarchae ac Prophetae inveniuntur ab iis qui non pueriliter insiliunt, sed pie diligenterque pertractant divinarum et humanarum rerum tam bonum, et tam grande secretum.” Aug. ver. rel. 28,51 (pl 34, col. 144). Rico had suggested conf. 8,8 as well; Rico, Lectura, 34 n. 99. 279 “Hec igitur me stupentum insuete lucis aspectum et adversus radios, quos oculorum suorum sol fundebat, non audentem oculos attollere, sicu alloquitur: ‘Noli trepidare, neu te species nova perturbet. Errores tuos miserata, de longinquo tempestivum tibi auxilium latura descendi. Satis superque satis hactenus terram caligantibus oculis aspexistis; quos si usqueadeo mortalia ista permulcent, quid futurum speras si eos ad eternal sustuleris?’ ” Petr. secr. Proh.1,2 (ed. Dotti, 2). 2 80 “Ad eum siquidem conversa, ac meditationem ipsius profundissimam intererupens, sic ait: ‘Care michi ex milibus Augustine; hunc tibi devotum nosti, nec te latet quam periculosa et longa egritudine tentus sit, que eo propinquior morti est quo eger ipse a proprii morbi cognitione remotior! Itaque nunc vite huius semianimis consulendum est, quod pietatis opus melius quam tu nullus hominum prestare potest. Nam et iste tui semper nominis amantissimus fuit; habet autem hoc omnis doctrina, quod multo facilius in auditorium animum ab amata preceptore transfunditur; et, nisi te presens forte felicitas miseriarum tuarum fecit immemorem, multa ut, dum corporeo carcere claudebaris, huic simila pertulisti. Quod cum ita sit, passionum expertarum curator optime, tametsi rerum omnium iocundissima sit taciturna meditation, silentium tamen istud, ut sacra et michi singulariter accepta voce discutias oro, tentans is qua ope languores tam graves emollire queas.’ ” Petr. secr. Proh. 3,2–​3 (ed. Dotti, 4–​6).

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and there is no evidence that stands to the contrary. The problem has been, it seems to me, that scholars have assumed that Petrarch had acquired a thorough knowledge of Augustine and his works by the time of the Secretum, and since the Augustinus of the Secretum does not fit the interpretation modern scholars have of the Augustine of history, in attempt, perhaps, to preserve the humanist erudition of Petrarch, scholars have claimed that Augustinus must stand for something other than Augustine. There is, though, no evidence sufficient not to take Petrarch at his word in this case. Moreover, as I have attempted to argue above, Petrarch’s knowledge of Augustine and his works was rather limited in 1347. Rather than making more out of the text than it is, why should we not simply see in the Secretum Petrarch’s own understanding of Augustine in the very figure of Augustinus Petrarch fictionalized? Why would Petrarch, for example, after asserting very strongly the impact Augustine had on him in De otio religioso turn around and use Augustinus for other purposes? One of the issues that has been pointed to is that Augustinus advocates a voluntarism that Augustine certainly did not.281 Yet in De vera religione, one of Petrarch’s favorite books and one of the texts of Augustine he most relied on, we find Augustine equating sin with the will.282 Though Petrarch annotated a manuscript containing some of Augustine’s anti-​Pelagian writings, these notes date to between 1354 and 1374, that is, to after Petrarch had already drafted and completed the final version of the Secretum.283 If we equate our knowledge and interpretation of Augustine with Petrarch’s, then we are faced indeed, or at least we can be faced indeed, with the problem of why does Augustinus not harmonize with “our” Augustine? Thus Carol Quillen argued “that Petrarch, who was too careful a reader to have misunderstood Augustine, intended for 2 81 E.g. Quillen, The Secret, 153. 282 “Defectus autem iste quod peccatum vocatur, si tanquam febris invitum occuparet, recte injusta poena videretur, quae peccantem consequitur, et quae damnatio nuncupatur. Nunc vero usque adeo peccatum voluntarium est malum, ut nullo modo sit peccatum, si non sit voluntarium; et hoc quidem ita manifestum est, ut nulla hinc doctorum paucitas, nulla indoctorum turba dissentiat. Quare aut negandum est peccatum committi, aut fatendum est voluntate committi. Non autem recte negat peccasse animam, qui et poenitendo eam corrigi fatetur, et veniam poenitenti dari, et perseverantem in peccatis justa lege Dei damnari. Postremo, si non voluntate male facimus, nemo objurgandus est omnino, aut monendus: quibus sublatis Christiana lex et disciplina omnis religionis auferatur necesse est. Voluntate ergo peccatur. Et quoniam peccari non dubium est, ne hoc quidem dubitandum video, habere animas liberum voluntatis arbitrium. Tales enim servos suos meliores esse Deus judicavit, si ei servirent liberaliter: quod nullo modo fieri posset, si non voluntate, sed necessitate servirent.” Augustine, ver. rel. 14,27 (pl 34, col. 133–​134). 283 Quillen, Rereading the Renaissance, 186 n. 16.

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Augustinus to be different from his historical namesake.”284 She based her argument on Augustinus having represented his conversion as an act of the will, which is then the basis of his analysis of Petrarch’s will, as compared to the “historical Augustine” having attributed his conversion to God.285 Yet the historical Augustine analyzed his will in book eight of the Confessiones, just prior to his final conversion, and concluded that an act does not occur because it is not completely willed: … the willing is not wholehearted, so the command is not wholehearted. The strength of the command lies in the strength of will, and the degree to which the command is not performed lies in the degree to which the will is not engaged. For it is the will that commands the will to exist, and it commands not another will but itself. So the will that commands is incomplete, and therefore what it commands does not happen. If it were complete, it would not need to command the will to exist, since it would exist already. Therefore there is no monstrous split between willing and not willing. We are dealing with a morbid condition of the mind which, when it is lifted up by the truth, does not unreservedly rise to it but is weighed down by habit. So there are two wills. Neither of them is complete, and what is present in the one is lacking to the other.286 And here we find the dilemma posed in the Secretum, and it is one that can well be understood from the historical Augustine without positing Petrarch’s intention to create Augustinus otherwise. We must remember that Petrarch’s conversion was not that of Confessiones 8,12, but paralleled Augustine’s conversion to philosophy after having read the Hortensius, and his desire to seek a life of virtue. We must remember too that Petrarch’s Augustine was not our Augustine,287 and if we can establish that Petrarch was not feigning in De otio 2 84 Quillen, The Secret, 153. 285 Ibid. 286 Augustine, conf. 8,9,21; trans. Chadwick, p. 148. 287 Cf.: “Although we must recognize that soteriological doctrine was not primary for Petrarch, as it surely was for Augustine, Petrarch’s willingness to follow Augustine’s complex views on grace and human will later in his life, at the time when he annotated ms 2103, suggests that under no circumstances can we legitimately read the Augustinus of the Secretum simply as an inept reading of the ‘historical’ Augustine.” Quillen, Rereading the Renaissance, 186; “Our knowledge of Petrarch’s complex reading practices and interpretive habits warns against the naïve presumption that in the Secretum he simply ‘got Augustine wrong’.” Quillen, Rereading the Renaissance, 183. Yet Quillen also argues: “Furthermore, the image of Augustine as an author that is created and develops within humanist discourse is at odds with the Augustine described by Possidius, the Augustine of late

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or De vita solitaria regarding Augustine, then why would we think he began doing so with Augustinus? Why not accept Augustinus as a fictionalized, though accurate depiction, of Petrarch’s understanding of Augustine? After all, as Augustinus himself told Franciscus with reference to Virgil’s account of Dido, the poet “understood the order of nature … as you well know, the whole story is complete fiction, nonetheless the poet kept in mind the nature of things as he wrote.”288 If we accepted this statement as indicative of Petrarch’s “deceit,” whereby under the fictional guise of fabula, Petrarch too “kept in mind the nature of things,” what would that tell us about Petrarch and Petrarch’s reception, knowledge, and understanding of Augustine? This is the approach I want to adopt here, at least as an experiment, with the express confession that I am not attempting a reinterpretation of Petrarch and/​or his Secretum as such, but I am simply trying to analyze his reception of Augustine, though a comprehensive treatment thereof would require a separate study. In this light, the first thing to point out is that the only works of Augustine referenced in the Secretum are the Confessiones,289 De vera religione,290 and De civitate dei,291 the very works Petrarch relied on most of all in De vita solitaria and De otio. Yet Petrarch’s estimation of Augustine shines through from the very beginning of the work. Truth brought in Augustinus to cure Petrarch and Petrarch recognized that “most glorious father” who was, Truth affirmed, “dear to me above a thousand others” and who knew “how devoted this man here is to you.”292 Petrarch later asserted his devotion to Augustine when he claimed: “… for that opinion about you grew with me from my youth that if something seemed to me other than to you, I knew that I was in error.”293 antiquity. The texts discussed here play a role in constructing an Augustine who explicitly authorizes literary pursuits and thus a nascent humanist movement.” Quillen, Rereading the Renaissance, 180–​181. Quillen seemingly warns against interpreting Petrarch as having “gotten Augustine wrong” and yet asserts Petrarch’s creation of an Augustine disharmonious with that of the Augustine of late antiquity. 288 “… hinc est apud nature conscium poetam … Que quamvis, ut nosti optime, fabulosa narration tota sit, ad nature tamen ordinem respexit ille, dum fingeret.” Petr. secr. 3,5,12 (ed. Dotti, 138); trans. Quillen, 114. 289 Petr. secr. 1,5,5 (20); 1,6,3 (22). 290 Petr. secr. 1,15,5–​9 (46–​48). 291 Petr. secr. 3,16,3 (186). 292 “Non fuit necesse nomen percuntari: religiosus aspectus, frons modesta, graves oculi, sobrius incessus, habitus afer sed romana facundia gloriosissimi patris Augustini quoddam satis apertum indicium referebant … sic ait: ‘Care michi ex milibus Augustine; hunc tibi devotum nosti …’ ” Petr. secr. Proh. 3,1–​2 (4); trans. Quillen, The Secret, 46. 293 “… ea namque de te ab adolescentia mea mecum crevit opinio ut, siquid aliter michi visum fuerit quam tibi, aberrasse me noverim.” Petr. secr. 1,4,1 (16).

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Yet here Augustinus accused Petrarch of “feigning,” at least to a degree, when he retorted: “Let the flattery stop, I pray. But since I see that you have offered your assent to my words not based on your judgment, but on account of your reverence, the freedom of speaking whatever will have come from your own will is given.”294 Petrarch does not counter, but simply states that he will thus proceed, but with trepidation.295 While Augustinus had questioned Petrarch’s judgment, he did not doubt Petrarch’s estimation of his authority or his devotion, which was attested to by Truth herself, and confirmed later by Petrarch himself in his letter to Giacomo Colonna when he claimed that Augustine knew the truth of his devotion to him. This distinction between judgment and devotion or reverence is a central one for the entire work since the Secretum ends with Petrarch knowingly and willingly not accepting Augustinus’s council. While he admitted to the truth thereof, he returned to his writing: “But I am not strong enough to rein in my desire.”296 Augustinus was to return to heaven, while Petrarch remained in the world, with worldly concerns that needed completion before he could fully attend to his soul. He though implored Augustinus not to abandon him regardless of how distant he was, “for without you, dearest father, my life is bleak.”297 Petrarch was not able to rein in his desire. The verb he used there was frenare, the noun of which, frenum, Petrarch had used to refer to what the Confessiones had given his wandering soul in De otio religioso.298 The point to be made here is that already asserted above, namely, that Petrarch never reached Confessiones 8,12. While the Confessiones had provided a rein to his wandering soul, it did not bring him all the way. And neither could Augustinus. This is then confirmed when the Confessiones enters the Secretum. Augustinus recounts his own story, and how he was “transformed into another Augustine,” which he knows Franciscus knows from the Confessiones.299 Franciscus 294 “Cessent, oro, blanditie. At quoniam non tam iudicio quam reverentia assensum dictis meis prebuisse te video, loquendi tibi, quicquid ex arbitrio tuo fuerit, libertas datur.” Petr. secr. 1,4,1 (16). 295 “Trepidus quidem adhuc, sed licentia tua uti velim.” Petr. secr. 1,4,2 (16). 296 “Sed desiderium frenare non valeo.” Petr. secr. 3,18,7 (200). 297 “Nunc vero, quoniam sedes vestra celum est, michi autem terrena nondum finitur habitatio, que quorsum duratura sit nescio et in hoc pendeo anxius, ut vides, obsecro ne me, licet magnis tractibus distantem, deseratis. Sine te enim, pater optime, vita mea inamena …” Petr. secr. 3,18,4 (198); trans. Quillen, The Secret, 147. 298 “Quiescat in secula sine fine felix, cuius manu ille michi primum liber oblatus est, qui vago animo frenum dedit.” Petr. otio rel. 2 (104,12–​14). 299 “Nec tamen admiror te in his nunc ambagibus obvolutum in quibus olim ego ipse iactatus, dum novam vite viam carpere meditarer. Capillum vulsi, frontem percussi digitosque contorsi; denique complosis genua manibus amplexus amarissimis suspiriis

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responds that he knows it well and cannot forget the miracle.300 Then Augustinus asserts that Franciscus should remember the miracle under the fig tree, and should hold that memory is more important than the hope for the laurel tree, which Franciscus considers dearer.301 Franciscus does not object. Though Franciscus knows the story, he has not achieved it himself, having substituted for Augustine’s fig tree the laurel tree of fame. Franciscus then admits that he reads the Confessiones as recounting his own story, but he does not include the conversion; he reads it as a story “caught between two contrary feelings, namely hope and fear.”302 While Petrarch’s devotion to Augustine, his estimation of Augustine, did not waver, his judgment and will could not follow. And this brings us to the overall function of Augustinus in the Secretum. In the opening of the work, Truth tells Franciscus: “Until now you have gazed with your weak eyes at the earth, which if those mortal things thus please, what do you hope for the future if you held your eyes on eternal things?”303 Petrarch’s worldly state is then emphasized when he replied, not having yet recognized Truth, with the words of Virgil from book one of the Aeneid, when Aeneas’ mother, Venus appeared to him, whom Aeneas did not recognize.304 In the second dialogue, Franciscus pointed to the fact that Venus prevented Aeneas from seeing the anger of the gods: “And as long as Venus was speaking to him, he could think only of things of this earth … From this passage, I conclude that association with Venus takes away the capacity to see the divine.”305 This was certainly the case with Franciscus at first, for he did not recognize Truth, and only when she answered his Virgilian query did he see her for what she was. Augustinus was brought in then to heal Franciscus by leading him away celum aurasque complevi largisque gemitibus solum omne madefeci. Et tamen hec inter idem ille qui fueram mansi, donec alta tandem meditatio omnem miseriam meam ante oculos congessit. Itaque postquam plene volui, ilicet et potui, miraque et felicissima celeritate transformatus sum in alterum Augustinum, cuius historie seriem, ni fallor, ex Confessionibus meis nosti.” Petr. secr. 1,5,5 (20); trans. Quillen, The Secret, 55–​56. 300 “Novi equidem, illisuque ficus salutifere, cuius hoc sub umbra contigit miraculum, immemor esse non possum.” Petr. secr. 1,5,5 (20). 301 Petr. secr. 1,6,1 (22). 302 Petr. secr. 1,6,3 (22). 303 “Satis superque satis hactenus terram caligantibus oculis aspexisti; quos si usqueadeo mortalia ista permulcent, quid futurum speras si eos ad eterna sustuleris?” Petr. secr. Proh. 1,2 (2). 304 Petr. secr. Proh. 1,3 (2); Virgil, Aeneid 1 327–​328. 305 “Atqui quam diu Venere comitante inter hostes et incendium erravit, apertis licet oculis, offensorum iram numinum videre non potuit, eaque illum alloquente, nil nisi terrenum intellexit … Ex quibus hoc excerpsi: usum Veneris conspectum divinitatis eripere.” Petr. secr. 2,12,3–​4 (88); trans. Quillen, The Secret, 89–​90.

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from the earthly to the heavenly, or from the temporal to the eternal, for as Augustinus explicitly stated in the second dialogue: “But that is your hateful habit: You care about transitory things; you neglect the eternal.”306 Augustinus began his attempted healing of Franciscus by recalling to Franciscus his own soul, and the vices thereof. This then paralleled Augustine’s own account in the Confessiones when he claimed that God had turned him around and shown himself to himself as he really was.307 After his conversion, Augustine summarized his pre and post conversion self by reference to the will: “The nub of the problem was to reject my own will and to desire yours. But where through so many years was my freedom of will? From what deep and hidden recess was it called out in a moment?”308 Augustine, not Petrarch, represented his conversion as an issue of will, which is then echoed by Petrarch to end his Secretum. As quoted above, Petrarch lamented: “But I cannot restrain my desire for the world.”309 In his reply, Augustinus summarized the entire problem, the same one that he had had, though Petrarch choose a different path: “This is our old argument. What you call inability is really a question of will. But let it go; we cannot ever agree.”310 Petrarch did not will to take the path Augustine had taken. A sense of longing and regret, a sense of inquietude ends the Secretum. Augustinus had represented a path to Petrarch, a path Petrarch rejected. It was not the appropriation of Augustine that was instrumental in the origins of Petrarch’s humanism, but Petrarch’s disappropriation of Augustine. 2.4 The Disappropriation of Augustine One of the very last letters Petrarch penned was addressed to the Augustinian friar Luigi Marsili.311 Accompanying the letter was Petrarch’s personal copy of Augustine’s Confessions, the copy Petrarch had been given many years before by the Augustinian friar Dionysius de Burgo of San Sepulcro.312 It had been a constant companion of Petrarch’s throughout his travels, but now Petrarch

306 “Sed ille mos vester execrandus est; transitoria curatis, eterna negligitis.” Petr. secr. 2,7,1 (72); trans. Quillen, The Secret, 80. 307 Conf. 8,7,16 (trans. Chadwick, 144). 308 Conf. 9,1,1 (trans. Chadwick, 155). 309 Quillen, The Secret, 148. 310 Ibid. 311 Francesco Petrarca, Rerum Senilium, xv,7, in Francesco Petrarca, Opere, ed. Giovanni Ponte (Milan, 1968), 882. 312 “Libellum tibi quem poscis libens dono, donaremque libentius si esset qualis erat, dum eum adolescenti michi donavit Dyonisius ille tui ordinis, sacrarum professor egregius literarum et undique vir insignis, indulgentissimus pater meus.” Ibid.

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was returning it from whence it came, to the “house of Augustine.”313 On the surface there is little remarkable about this letter. It does, however, symbolize a fundamental aspect of Petrarch’s reception of Augustine: the fact that Petrarch returned his Augustine to its proper place with the Augustinian Hermits is a key for understanding Petrarch’s “deceit,” and his sincerity within his fictionalizing. It is difficult to view Petrarch as feigning or fictionalizing in his letter to the Augustinian Hermit Jacobo Bussolari in Pavia in 1359 (fam. xix, 18). Pavia was being besieged by Galeazzo Visconti and Petrarch wrote to exhort peace. He urged Jacobo “in the holy and venerable name of Augustine, your leader” to remember Augustine’s praise of peace in De civitate dei.314 Petrarch referred to Augustine as Jacobo’s “leader and teacher” (dux et magister tuus), an epitaph first used in 1327 by Pope John xxii in his bull Veneranda Sanctorum granting the Hermits custody of Augustine’s tomb in Pavia.315 The possessive adjective here was important: Augustine was Jacobo’s leader and teacher, as Augustine was for the oesa as such. Petrarch did not refer to Augustine as our leader and teacher. He did though assert that Augustine was someone whom “even I, although a sinner, serve in my spirit.”316 Petrarch’s devotion is clear, but he made the important distinction: Augustine was the leader and teacher of Jacobo and the oesa, not of Petrarch, in much the same way as Petrarch’s copy of the Confessiones had its proper home with the oesa, the domus Augustini. Whereas Petrarch could refer to Augustine as noster with reference to his brother Gherardo, when writing an Augustinian Hermit Petrarch applied the possessive only to Jacobo, dissociating himself from possession,

313 “… sepe per omnem ferme Italiam ac Gallias Germaniamque circumtuli, ita ut iam prope manus mea et liber unum esse viderentur, sic inseparabiles usu perpetuo facti errant … Sic eundo et redeundo mecum senuit, ita ut iam senex a sene sine ingenti difficultate legi nequeat; et nunc tandem ab Augustini domo digressus ad eandem redit, nunc quoque tecum peregrinaturus ut reor.” Ibid. 314 “Oravi perque omnes te celicolas adiuravi atque in primis per sacrum et venerabile Augustini ducis tui nomen … ut aliquando sopitis aut lenitis odiorum flammis et compresso tumore superbie, qui animorum oculos atque aures sanioribus consilis obstruxerat, illud acumen ingenii tui et eloquentiam celitus datam tibi, quam irritandis animis turoum civium, quod pace tua dixerim, plausibiliter hactenus potiusquam salubriter intendisti, iantandem ad meliora converteres et quod maxime te decebat, religiosam animam pacificis tractatibus applicares. Non dura quidem neque difficulia postulabam, ut Augustini miles ac discipulus, pacem velles, precipue dum audires ducem ac magistrum tuum, cum sepe alias tum expressius in eo libro in quo celestis et eterne reipublice leges tractat …” Petr. fam. xix, 18 (ed. Bianci, 172). 315 Saak, High Way to Heaven, 160. 316 “… per sacrum et venerabile Augustini ducis tui nomen, cui et ego quamvis peccator in spiritu meo servio …” Petr. fam. xix, 18 (ed. Bianchi, 172).

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from belonging. In the same letter Petrarch appealed to Augustine’s relics, housed in San Pietro in Ciel d’Oro in Pavia,317 a location which he named in his Testamentum as one of his preferred places to be buried should he die in the area. Yet here too there is ambiguity: Petrarch listed several options for burial based on location and only in Pavia was the oesa Petrarch’s preferred choice.318 While Augustine and the Augustinians were important to Petrarch, that importance was situational.319 And situational too was Petrarch’s knowledge and use of Augustine. When it comes down to it, Petrarch did not know all that much of Augustine. As seen above, Petrarch had a copy of De civitate dei since 1325, and a copy of De vera religione as early as 1335, and a copy of the Confessiones from 1333. These are the works from which he most frequently drew. It was only later that Petrarch started annotating Paris BnF ms lat. 2103 containing some of Augustine’s anti-​ Pelagian writings, where we do find explicit citations of book and chapter to Augustine’s works, which is lacking for his earlier development.320 In terms of his early development, extending through the first version of the Secretum, Petrarch had only a most limited knowledge of Augustine. Though the use of Augustine cannot be taken as representing a scholar’s knowledge of Augustine, there is no evidence that Petrarch “knew his Augustine too well”321 to have Augustinus represent the “historical” Augustine. And that is the point. The Augustinus of the Secretum represents Petrarch’s reading of Augustine, his understanding of Augustine, couched in the fictionalized integumentum of the dialogues. Scholars who have argued that Petrarch knew that Augustinus was certainly not, as such, the historical Augustine, have based their arguments on the discrepancies between Augustinus and Augustine, pointing most of all to Augustinus’ voluntarism regarding conversion and his advocacy of classical authors as models for Christians. Above I have already addressed the voluntarism issue, namely, showing that Augustine did indeed emplot the will as the major factor in his own conversion, which then legitimates Petrarch’s

317 “… sed memor sub eodem tecto venerabiles ipsius Augustini reliquias tecum esse eumque solicitum sui ordinis et amantem …” Petr. Fam. 19,18 (ed. Bianchi, 186–​188). 318 Armando Maggi, “To Write As Another: The Testamentum (Testamentum),” in Krikham and Maggi eds., Petrarch, 333–​346. 319 Cf.: “The use to which Petrarch put Augustine’s words is thus contingent, shaped by the needs of the moment.” Quillen, Rereading the Renaissance, 169. 320 See Quillen, Rereading the Renaissance, 79–​80.! 321 “… under no circumstances can we legitimately read the Augustinus of the Secretum simply as an inept reading of the ‘historical’ Augustine.” Quillen, Rerading the Renaissance, 186.

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reading of Augustine in the Secretum.322 I now need to turn to the question of Petrarch’s use of Augustine for legitimating the classics. As Quillen argued, … Augustine’s authority serves to legitimate Petrarch’s humanist project. By inventing an Augustine who not only sanctioned but insisted upon the use of classical literature in the human search for spiritual health, Petrarch bequeathed to his successors a powerful authorizing voice for what would become a formidable challenge to the educational status quo and to existing literary standards. This humanist vision was certainly not advocated by Augustine.323 Here too Quillen assumes that Petrarch, as a humanist, read Augustine as we do, and thus knew the “historical Augustine” though “invented” Augustinus otherwise and for other purposes: … while Petrarch’s dialogue [i.e., Secretum] structurally echoes the Confessions, it is less a reading of that text than an appropriation of Augustine’s authority for an exploration of the specifically humanist project of reviving and emulating the literary and cultural standards of antiquity. The Secretum creates an image of Augustine that could authorize as redemptive both the texts and the interpretive approaches valued by Petrarch the humanist …324 Quillen then brings in Augustinus’ discussion of the soul and his use of Virgil to support the point that the body is the origin of sin and the soul’s corruption.325 Augustine had quoted the same lines in Virgil in De civitate dei, yet interpreted them differently, whereby according to Quillen, Augustine argues that according to the Christian religion the body is not the source of the corruption of the soul, for neither the flesh nor anything else made by God is by nature corrupt. Rather, sin renders the whole of the human person subject to corruption … Virgil’s lines, which implicate the very nature of the body, are thus at odds with Christianity. This is a very different reading than that offered in the Secretum. Where Augustine

3 22 See the discussion above. 323 Quillen, “Petrarch and Augustine’s De doctrina christiana,” 167. 324 Quillen, Rereading the Renaissance, 190. 325 Ibid., 191–​193.

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draws distinctions, Augustinus discerns similarities, in effect inverting the interpretation given in De civitate dei.326 While I certainly agree with Quillen that for Augustine the body as such is not the origin of the soul’s corruption, just as I agree with the position that Augustine attributed his conversion to God’s grace, nevertheless, we must also recognize Augustine’s description of his conversion being based on his will, and that too for Augustine the body is the “weight of the soul” (pondus animae) that prevents one from devoting oneself to the life of the spirit. In Confessiones 13,9,10 Augustine equated that weight with one’s love,327 which was the defining element for one’s “citizenship” in either the earthly city or the city of God. There is good reason for Petrarch to have interpreted Augustine as having argued for the body as the corruption of the soul based on one’s love, and for Petrarch, his loves were Laura and the Laurel. Nor can we really see Petrarch’s having used Augustine as an authority for the salutary nature of studying the classics as an inversion or perversion of Augustine. Thomas Waleys, the early fourteenth-​century Dominican commentator of De civitate dei, pointed explicitly to Augustine having praised the virtues of the Romans before the corruption of the Roman state in the emerging Empire,328 and even before Waleys, John of Wales used Augustine in much the same fashion as did Petrarch. As Jenny Swanson argued, in John’s Breviloquium 3 26 Ibid., 193. 327 “Numquid aut Pater aut Filius non superferebatur super aquas? Si tanquam loco sicut corpus, nec Spiritus sanctus: si autem incommutabilis divinitatis eminentia super omne mutabile, et Pater et Filius et Spiritus sanctus superferebatur super aquas. Cur ergo tantum de Spiritu tuo dictum est hoc? cur de illo tantum dictum est? Quasi locus ibi esset, qui non est locus, de quo solo dictum est quod sit donum tuum. In dono tuo requiescimus; ibi te fruimur. Requies nostra, locus noster. Amor illuc attollit nos, et Spiritus tuus bonus exaltat humilitatem nostram de portis mortis. In bona voluntate pax nobis est. Corpus pondere suo nititur ad locum suum. Pondus non ad ima tantum est, sed ad locum suum. Ignis sursum tendit, deorsum lapsis. Ponderibus suis aguntur, loca sua petunt. Oleum infra aquam fusum, supra aquam attollitur; aqua supra oleum fusa, infra oleum demergitur; ponderibus suis aguntur, loca sua petunt. Minus ordinata, inquieta sunt; ordinantur et quiescunt. Pondus meum amor meus; eo feror quocumque feror. Dono tuo accendimur, et sursum ferimur. Inardescimus et imus. Ascendimus ascensiones in corde, et cantamus canticum graduum. Igne tuo, igne tuo bono inardescimus et imus; quoniam sursum imus ad pacem Jerusalem, quoniam jucundatus sum in his qui dixerunt mihi: In domum Domini ibimus. Ibi nos collocavit voluntas bona, ut nihil velimus aliud quam permanere illic in aeternum.” Aug. conf. 13,9,10 (pl 32, col. 848–​849); cf. Aug. De quantitate animae 22,38–​39 (pl 32, col. 1057–​1058). 328 E.g.: “In hoc capitulo ostendit Augustinus ob que merita romanorum et ad quem finem deus providentia sua romanum imperium auxit. Unde ostendit qualia opera virtuosa relucebant in romanis antequam imperium auctum esset.” Thomas Waleys, op,

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The virtues, John assures us, teach the eternal wisdom of God … [The Breviloquium] ends not with discussions of the relevance of the virtues to rulers, but with a discussion of the paramount importance of virtue in its own right, and of its relevance to Christians in their search for God. Virtue was important in John’s world. What role does it play in Breviloquium? Perhaps its most significant function is the provision of a developed structure, of a sequence of topics within which John can deploy his ancient exempla and his comments to rulers. By using this structure, John not only makes his work easier to follow, but is able to show that all aspects of all virtues can be successfully and effectively illustrated using ancient exempla. It is odd, perhaps, that John confines his discussion to the classical virtues and their divisions. The Christian triad of faith, hope, and charity receives only a bare mention in the epilogue, when John tells the reader that the ancients performed their virtuous deeds without the benefit of acquaintance with these virtues. John makes no attempt to equate any of his pagan virtues with the Christian ones, or to condemn the ancients for their lack of faith, hope or charity. His picture of the virtuous ancients is consistent and perhaps rather one-​sided, for their vices are not discussed, or even acknowledged in passing. And although John uses much of Augustine’s material, he totally ignores those parts of Augustine’s works which were in any way unfavorable to the ancients—​ with the exception of the condemnation of the Epicureans. John seems dedicated to the attempt to persuade his readers that the ancients were peculiarly virtuous as a class.329 Here we find a view of the classics that parallels Petrarch’s “humanist program” and “humanist Augustine.” Was there any difference between Petrarch’s appropriation of Augustine as defender of the classics and the same position evidenced amongst the “classicizing friars”? There was indeed, but it was not simply that Petrarch “invented” an Augustine as defender of the classics, even the salvific nature thereof. John of Wales cited Augustine as he cited any other authority. Certainly Augustine had a special place in the hierarchy of auctores, but Augustine, as the classical authors themselves, is cited together with medieval auctores without any notable distinction. Petrarch was very aware of the gap separating Augustine Commentariuad civ. 5,12; Aug., De civitate dei cum commento (Johannes Amberbach: Basel, 1489); available online at: http://​dig​lib.hab.de/​wdb.php?dir=​ink​unab​eln/​223-​9-​theol-​2f-​ 1&image=​00001; p. 146. 329 Swanson, John of Wales, 55.

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from Cicero. For all his praise of the classics, Petrarch was clear that only with the addition of Christ could one find true peace,330 and it was, as he asserted to Giacomo, only with divine illumination that the classics could be read properly.331 Petrarch ended his De vita solitaria by asserting that without Christ one’s soul would remain without rest (quies), which echoes Augustine’s Confessiones 1,1. At the beginning of the work, Petrarch claimed he would draw most of all on his own experience,332 which then gives the impression that he was well aware of the inquietudo with which the classics alone left one. Moreover, such lack of rest could also result, it would seem, with the attempt to live as a solitarius internally, yet outwardly participating in the world as an occupatus. As discussed above, the “occupied solitary” was an extreme rarity in Petrarch’s view, though it was an ideal to which he himself aspired. This can be seen as well in the ending of his De otio religioso, when he petitioned the brothers of Montrieux to weep for him, for he could not follow their path, any more than he could burn his writings and follow Augustinus’s advice at the end of the Secretum. Augustine was, after all, one of the examples Petrarch used of the solitary life in book two of De vita solitaria, where we find that Petrarch was well aware of Augustine’s monastic life, even if he located the origins thereof

330 Petrarch concluded his De vita solitaria by asserting that Christ was the key to true peace and solitude: “Dulce autem michi fuit, preter morum veterum quos in multis sequi soleo, his qualibuscunque literulis meis sepe sacrum et gloriosum Christi nomen inserere; quod si fecissent prisci illi nostrorum ingeniorum duces et eloquio humano vim scintillarum celestium miscuisset, delectant fateor, sed multo amplius delectarent. Nunc mulcet eloquentie prima frons clara verborum luce, sed sententiarum veris orba luminibus, cum diu aures delinierit, neque quietat animum nec perducit ad illam supremam stabilemque dulcedinem ac pacem intellectus ad quam, quod insensati et superbi homines contemnunt, nisi per ipsam Christi humilitatem non est aditus.” Petr. vit. sol. 2,15 (588–​590). 331 See above, n. 184.; cf.: “Unde Paulus apostolus, verus Cristi philosophus, et post eum clarissimus eius interpres Augustinus, multique quos enumerare non est necesse, philosophiam laudatam ab aliis execrantur; cum tamen nulla unquam philosophia altior fuerit, aut esse posit, quam que ducit ad verum, qua nostril, celesti munere potius quam humano studio, ante omnium philosophorum vigilias ac labors eminentissime floruerunt. Quid ergo? Quomodo hec sibi invicem adverse connectimus: philosophiam a philosopho reprobari? Laudatur philosophia, sed non omnis: laudatur verax, fallax carpitur.” Petr. invect. (ed. Ricci, 662); “Nempe animi, quibus invisibilia cernuntur, et quibus ipse, ut philosophus fretus acerimis atque clarissimis, multa vidit; quamvis ad hanc visionem nostril propius accesserint, non visu quidem se dlumine clariore.” Petr. De ignor. (ed. Ricci, 736–​738). 332 “In hoc autem tractatu magna ex parte solius experientie ducatum habui nec alius ducem querens nec oblatum admissurus liberiore quidem gressu, quanquam fortassis incautis, sequor animum meum quam aliena vestigia.” Petr. vita sol. 1,4 (ed. Enenkel, 62,34–​37); Petr. vita sol. 1,4 comm. (ed. Enenkel, 176–​182).

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on Mons Pisanus. While Petrarch upheld Augustine as an authority for the salutary nature of the classics, he also realized that Augustine had been a hermit, an example of the religious leisure he himself could not follow, just as he realized that Augustine’s Confessiones had its proper home in the domus Augustini of the oesa. John of Wales, Thomas Waleys, and Jacques Legrand all knew that Augustine had been a hermit, and they used Augustine as an authority along side pagan authors, but they did not see the conflict, at least it is not present in their texts, between following the ancients as such and following Augustine. For John of Wales, Tertullian’s query of what has Athens to do with Jerusalem was long solved, whereas for Petrarch, it was all anew a burning issue. Augustinus’s rebuke of Petrarch to end the Secretum, “we will never agree,” can be read in conjunction with Petrarch’s request that his brother Gherardo’s fellow Carthusians weep for him. Petrarch was not feigning, or being deceitful, in his devotion to Augustine. He was trying to deceive the world, in a “pious deceit” precisely by living as an “occupied solitary,” continuing his public persona even as internally he sought his own soul’s salvation, at least after his conversion after his fortieth year as described in his De otio religioso. He could not, though, go all the way with Augustine and leave the world behind, even as he continued to struggle with the conflict, and a conflict it was, if not an outright battle. In fam. xxii,10, as cited above, Petrarch asserted that he now had a greater task, namely being more concerned with salvation than with eloquence, a passage that echoes Virgil’s Aeneid 7,1, when Virgil invokes the aid of Erato to aid him in his greater work, a recounting of the horrible wars and battles that Aeneas would face.333 Petrarch’s care for his own soul, his greater work, would indeed be a battle, a conflict between remaining an occupatus while endeavoring internally to live as a solitarius, or to flee the world and follow the model of Augustine he knew and enter a monastery. And this conflict was to some extent caused by Augustine himself, for Augustine presented Petrarch with conflicting paths, attachment to fame and fortune based on a public literary career, or a hermit’s life of solitude in a monastery. Cicero had effected Augustine’s first conversion to philosophy, to Augustine’s pursuit of his own soul and happiness in his reading of the Hortensius, the exact correlation Petrarch made for the effect the Confessiones had on him. Yet Augustine was still bound by one last chain, his lust. This Petrarch was able to overcome; 333 “Nunc age, qui reges, Erato, quae tempora, rerum/​quis Latio antiquo fuerit status, aduena classem/​cum primum Ausoniis exercitus appulit oris/​expediam, et primae reuocabo exordia pugnae./​tu uatem, tu, diua, mone. dicam horrida bella,/​dicam acies actosque animis in funera reges, /​Tyrrhenamque manum totamque sub arma coactam/​Hesperiam. maior rerum mihi nascitur ordo, maius opus moueo.” Virgil, Aeneid 7,1.

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Augustinus was successful in this regard in the Secretum.334 Yet one last chain still bound Petrarch, namely fame. This Petrarch could not give up, and rather than symbolizing a “humanist program,” this was Petrarch’s own failure, for which he asked the Carthusians in Montrieux to weep. Petrarch’s personal development never reached Confessiones 8,12; he was still praying “Heal me Lord, but not yet. …”335 He admitted that the fig tree was a hope and a goal for him, but one he had not attained.336 And in this light, the Confessiones are not, were not, and cannot be seen as the model for the Secretum, or for the ascent of Mont Ventoux.337 While there are seemingly parallels and connections, the plot, and structure of the accounts are vastly different, and this Petrarch knew, even if his knowledge of Augustine’s oeuvre as such was limited. Scholars have been misled by reading Petrarch through an Augustinian lens. Petrarch’s fictionalizing, his own use of renaissance integumenta, was based on his fierce sincerity regarding his devotion to Augustine and the influence Augustine had had on him. Augustine challenged Petrarch to pursue a life he 334 “F. Victus sum, fateor, quaniam cun[c]‌ta, que memoras, de medio experientie libro michi videris excerpsisse.” Petr. secr. 3,7,11 (ed. Dotti, 146). 335 Aug. conf. 8,7,17. 336 “F. Novi equidem, illiusque ficus salutifere, cuius hoc sub umbra contigit miraculum, immemor esse non possum. A. Recte quidem; nec enim mirtus ulla nec hedera, denique dilecta, ut aiunt, Phebo laurea, quamvis ad hanc poetarum chorus omnis afficitur tuque ante alios, qui solus etatis tue contextam eius ex frondibus coronam gestare meruisti, gratior esse debet animo tuo, tandem aliquando in portum ex tam multis tempestatibus revertenti, quam ficus illius recordation, per quam tibi correctionis et venie spes certa portenditur … F. Consulte; neque enim aut pluribus res egebat aut aliud quodlibet in pectus hoc profundius descendisset; eo presertim quia, licet per maximis intervallis, quanta inter naufragum et portus tuta tenentem, interque felicem et miserum esse solent, quale quale tamen inter procellas meas fluctuationis tue vestigium recognosco. Ex quo fit ut, quotiens Confessionum tuarum libros lego, inter duos contrarios affectus, spem videlicet et metum, letis non sine lacrimis interdum legere me arbitrer non alienam sed propriam mee peregrinationis historiam.” Petr. secr. 1,5,5–​1,6,3 (ed. Dotti, 20–​22); “A. At non satis humiliter, non satis sobrie. Semper aliquid loci venturis cupidatibus reservasti; semper in longum preces extendisti. Expertus loquor; hoc et michi contigit. Dicebam: ‘Da michi castitatem, sed noli modo; differ paululum. Statim venit tempus; virentior adhuc etas suis eat semitis, suis utatur legibus. Turpis ad iuvenilia ista rediretur; tunc igitur abeundum erit cum et minus ad hec habilis decursu temporum factus fuero, et satietas voluptatum metus regressionis abstulerit.’ Hec dicens, aliud te velle, aliud precari non intelligis? F. Quonam modo? A. Quia qui in diem poscit in presens negligit.” Petr. secr. 2,11,7–​9 (ed. Dotti, 86). 337 Robert Antognini, however, has argued that the Confessiones did provide Petrarch with the model for his Familiares; Roberta Antognini, Il Progetto Autobiografico delle Familiares di Petrarca (Milan, 2008). This interpretation, however, needs to be reexamined in light of the argumentation presented in this present chapter.

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did not will to pursue, and his own devotion to Augustine resulted in his conflicted soul. Petrarch’s Augustine was a genuine Augustine, even as it remained uniquely Petrarch’s. When we read Petrarch with the perspective of the double hermeneutic, we begin we recognize that unlike John of Wales, or Thomas Waleys, or even Jacques Legrand, Petrarch recognized Augustine as, using the phrase of Carol Quillen, undermining the very program that made renaissance humanism possible. Petrarch was not the one to show how Augustine could be used to support the validity of studying the classics. That was a position he had inherited. If Petrarch’s “Augustinianism” had any relevance for the emergence of renaissance humanism, it was not based on Petrarch’s appropriation of Augustine, but rather on Petrarch’s disappropriation of Augustine. Petrarch returned his Confessiones to the domus Augustini, its proper home, realizing that his own possession was artificial; there was an extent to which Augustine remained alien to Petrarch.338 Petrarch did not “invent” a “humanistic Augustine.” Petrarch did not “invent” Augustine at all, or rather, at least no more so than had John of Wales and Thomas Waleys, and much less so than did members of the Augustinian Hermits, Augustine’s proper home. Petrarch though did come to an understanding of Augustine, even if not based on a wide knowledge of Augustine’s works, and even if his understanding was very different from ours today. As such, up until 1347, that is, the first versions of De vita solitaria, De otio religioso, and the Secretum, Petrarch had a very limited knowledge of the “historical Augustine.” The sincerity of his devotion to Augustine, though, is perhaps evidenced further by Petrarch’s continued interest in Augustine, and growing knowledge thereof.339 Nevertheless, the conflict remained, and the remaining significance of Petrarch’s Augustine was Petrarch’s rejection of the Augustine he had come to know and love. 338 In this light I can both agree and disagree with Quillen, who argued: “Nothing about the way in which Petrarch characteristically quotes from Augustine suggests that he accepts Augustine’s experience as a model for his own life.” Quillen, Rereading the Renaissance, 136–​137. I agree in so far as Petrarch clearly did not accept Augustine’s experiences as the model for his own life. My argument, though, is that he was well aware of Augustine’s path, a path he consciously rejected, though he struggled with that rejection, meaning the way Petrarch quotes from Augustine suggests that he struggled with the model Augustine’s experiences presented for his own life. 339 In the Invective contra medicum, Petrarch frequently appeals to Augustine’s authority in demonstrating a wider use of Augustine’s texts, citing from De civitate dei, the Soliloquium, the Enarrationes in psalmos, and De vera religione; see Petr. invect. (ed. Ricci); this work was composed in 1352–​1353, in other words, the same period that Petrarch added the final revisions to his Secretum, his letter to Dionysius de Burgo (Fam. iv,1) and his letter to Giacomo (Fam. v, 9). See Stefano Cracolici, “The Art of Invective: Invective contra medicum,” in Kirkham and Maggi, eds., Petrarch, 255–​262.

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Boundaries of the Augustinian

Petrarch’s disappropriation of Augustine marks one of the boundaries of “the Augustinian” in the later Middle Ages. The Augustinus of the Secretum was indeed the authentic Augustine for Petrarch, yet one Petrarch could not fully accept, could not fully appropriate to make his own, regardless of how he tried. Despite the parallels in self-​portrayal between Petrarch and Augustine in his Confessiones, and despite the scholars who have pointed to the Confessiones as Petrarch’s model and his attempt to fashion his own life accordingly, Petrarch remained “Augustinian” up to book eight, chapter eleven of the Confessiones, never progressing to chapter twelve, and the tolle, lege scene. Petrarch’s conversion on Mont Ventoux was a very different conversion from Augustine’s in the Milanese garden. Fabricated or not, Petrarch’s turning to himself, after reading the serendipitous passage from the Confessiones, has more in common with Augustine’s conversion to Neoplatonism than it does to Augustine’s conversion to chastity and Christian life. After Augustine’s conversion in Milan, he was cured, he was at peace and serene, no longer struggled with himself. After Petrarch’s conversion on Mont Ventoux, he had seen the vision, the goal, but he remained on a path, though one, as he confessed to Pater Dionysius to conclude his letter, that was still based on insecurity, wanderings, and one that he only hoped would, eventually, with Dionysius’s prayers, lead him finally to the one, the good, the true, the certain, and the steadfast.340 When it comes down to it, it was not the influence of Augustine, but the rejection of Augustine that “made humanism possible.” Yet for all his struggle, for all his wrestling with Augustine as Jacob with the angel, Petrarch didn’t really know Augustine all that well, aside from a few works, and certainly gave no indication of a sophisticated erudition with respect to his use of Augustine. Augustine was a Christian classic, a witness to the value of Cicero. Yet Petrarch knew Augustine better than he wished. He knew the hermit Augustine, he knew Augustine’s story, he knew Augustine’s conversion, and try as he may, he could not bring himself to follow in Augustine’s footsteps, regardless of how hard he tried to portray himself as doing just that, at least in part. In this light, we find Petrarch’s own appropriation of Augustine in his very disappropriation; Petrarch made Augustine his own, but could not attempt to remake himself after Augustine’s image, even the image he himself had of 340 “Vide itaque, pater amantissime, quam nichil in me occulis tuis occultum velim, qui tibi nedum universam vitam meam sed cogitates singulos tam diligenter aperio; pro quibus ora, queso, ut tandiu vagi et instabiles aliquando subsistant, et inutiliter per multa iactati, ad unum, bonum, verum, certum, stabile se convertat. Vale.” Petr. fam. iv,1 (844).

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the hermit-​bishop. And this points to two levels of appropriation: 1. Making Augustine one’s own; and 2. The endeavor to make your very identity based on your interpretation and understanding of Augustine. The second level of appropriation had already taken place by the time Petrarch composed his Secretum, as we will see in the following chapters; the first level of appropriation Petrarch shared with his medieval forebears and contemporaries, even if he made a very different Augustine out of the same lump. When we evaluate Petrarch’s Augustinianism in comparison to the other case studies presented above, we find that Robert Grosseteste and John of Wales both had a much broader and more extensive knowledge of Augustine than did Petrarch, and a much more erudite and sophisticated knowledge. Hélinand of Froidmont knew Augustine’s De civitate dei backwards and forwards, and had a thorough knowledge of other select texts of Augustine. Petrarch had a special relationship with Augustine, but one that was based on a predetermined image of Augustine and by no means on the entire corpus of Augustine’s works. Robert Grosseteste, perhaps the best Augustine scholar of the Middle Ages, together with Thomas Aquinas, until the renaissance of Augustine scholarship in the early fourteenth century, evidenced a spectrum of erudition with regard to Augustine’s texts, knowing some very precisely, while others seem to be relegated to the general “diffused” Augustinian tradition. Moreover, Grosseteste gives evidence that scholars were most selective in when they chose to cite or appeal to Augustine, rather than taking Augustine as a point of departure. A given scholar’s explicit citations of Augustine cannot be taken as equivalent to the extent of the knowledge and reception of Augustine. Augustine was a revered authority, and thus added much weight to one’s argument, as can be seen in Jacques Legrand, for whom, nevertheless, Augustine was the foundation of his Order’s religious identity, which is a factor that must be taken into account when interpreting Legrand’s reception of Augustine. Why would Legrand needed to have appealed to Augustine as often as he did? This is a question that can only fully be answered after we have seen the developments within the oesa and the phenomena that can genuinely be labeled an ‘Augustinian renaissance’. Helinand, Grosseteste, and Petrarch represent three different receptions of Augustine, which can in general be seen as the historical, the theological, and the literary genres of medieval literature.341 They help to demarcate the boundaries of the “Augustinian” in the Middle Ages, and thus serve to provide a requisite canvas on which to paint the rebirth of Augustine in the fourteenth 341 Saak, “Appropriations” in oghra 1:39–​50.

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century. Their receptions of Augustine were all based on their individual knowledge of Augustine, which included detailed knowledge of individual manuscripts of Augustine’s works, as well as citing Augustine through intermediary works, such as Lombard’s Sentences. And they all witness as well to the “diffused Augustine,” the influence of Augustine independent from citation of Augustine’s texts themselves. As such, they serve as the requisite backdrop against which we begin to recognize a genuine rebirth of Augustine that included the historical, theological, political, and literary all combined within the understanding of following Augustine’s religion that historically merits the designation of renaissance being both quantitatively and qualitatively a far more intense reception of Augustine than any that had come before.

­c hapter 2

The Religio Augustini The historical, theological, and literary modes of reception of Augustine can each be seen as various Augustinian traditions. While humanists after Petrarch did not adopt Petrarch’s own relationship to Augustine, Petrarch’s disappropriation of Augustine provided the humanists with a general tradition of the lack of reception. Helinand and Vincent used Augustine for their historical works, and in doing so evidenced a sophisticated knowledge of Augustine’s texts, or rather, of at least some specific texts of Augustine, while Grosseteste and Thomas provide a window into the theological reception of Augustine. In other words, “modes of reception” and “traditions” are for the most part identical, even as we must realize that such traditions could, and did, overlap in a given author. Yet the historical, theological, and literary are not the only modes of reception, or traditions, by or in which Augustine’s Nachleben can be found.1 The point is not to argue for tight and fast descriptive categories. The labels themselves are ahistorical constructs, designed to help us perceive more than we might be able to if we left such descriptive categories undefined. We could go back and forth arguing for what constitutes “the historical” Augustinian tradition as distinct from the theological or the literary, but what would we gain in terms of actual historical understanding of Augustine’s influence and impact? What needs to be stressed is that Augustine’s influence and impact was far broader and diverse than simply that of a perceived late medieval anti-​Pelagianism that somehow, in some way, directly or indirectly, led to Luther and the Reformation, in the context of a “scholastic” Augustinian tradition. We have to move beyond using our own modern constructs and interpretations of what constitutes the “essential” Augustine as the basis for determining what is or what is not “Augustinian.” We cannot base our understanding of how Augustine was interpreted in the later Middle Ages and the influence and impact of that interpretation, on that which we consider to be most genuinely “Augustinian,” whether Augustine himself might agree with us or not. When we return to a historical approach for understanding and analyzing Augustine’s late medieval influence and impact, our interpretation of Augustine is irrelevant, and when we look to the sources themselves, we find that one of the major modes of reception of Augustine, one of the 1 See Saak, “Augustine and his Late Medieval Appropriations,” oghra 1:39–​50.

© Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, 2022 | DOI:10.1163/9789004504707_005

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major late medieval Augustinian traditions, was the interpretation of the life of Augustine, more so than any particular text Augustine composed, or group of texts Augustine composed. Augustine’s greatest impact in the later Middle Ages was the representation of his life, rather than a given idea or concept or philosophical or theological position that can, to a greater or lesser degree, be traced back, directly or indirectly, to our interpretations of Augustine. And in this light, there was only one specific late medieval Augustinian tradition that read Augustine’s texts, and interpreted the philosophical, theological, historical, and literary ideas discerned in those texts through the lens of Augustine’s life itself, namely, that of the religion of Augustine, the religio Augustini, as it was held up as the foundation of the religious life of the sons of Augustine, the members of the oesa. The monastic and religious reception of Augustine has been one of the most overlooked modes of reception of Augustine.2 There could be multiple reasons for this, perhaps most of all the debatable and indeed questionable authenticity of what has been referred to as the Rule of St. Augustine.3 Yet even if Augustine’s Rule is authentic, as I am convinced it is, trying to establish the impact of Augustine in the various groups of monastics who followed Augustine’s Rule as a legal and institutional basis for their religious orders is far more difficult, in some ways, than identifying Augustine’s influence and impact on the philosophical and theological ideas of the high and later Middle Ages, especially when that endevour is based on contemporary interpretations of what those philosophical and theological ideas are to begin with. Moreover, most religious groups who adapted Augustine’s Rule did so not based on a particular devotion to Augustinian monasticism, but because Augustine’s Rule seemed to fit best with their own foundational ideals. The early and high medieval reception and impact of Augustine’s Rule is a field of research that has scarcely been cultivated and far more research needs to be done before we will have some grasp on understanding what that impact actually was. Yet in the later Middle Ages, the Augustinian Hermits turned not only to the Rule as a constitutional document, but also as the very foundation for their own way of life whereby Augustine’s own monastic life became the model and template, for how to live a religious life in the footsteps of Augustine. It was not simply a monastic Augustinian tradition, but a new Augustinian tradition based not as such on the Rule itself, but on Augustine’s way of life, on Augustine’s own religio, the religio Augustini, that became embodied within the oesa. 2 The oghra does include monastic and religious modes of reception, even as the majority of the work focuses on other modes of reception; see Saak, “Appropriation.” 3 On the Regula Sancti Augustini, see below.

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The term religio in the Middle Ages had a variety of definitions. It did not, in any case, signify what we usually mean today by “religion.” In the Middle Ages, Christianity was not a “religion,” for there were, as Thomas Aquinas explicitly argued, many “religions” within Christianity.4 In the broad sense, “religion” meant a way of life defined by worship, that which bound one to God, based on the etymology of religio as re-​ligo, binding again.5 Yet in a technical sense, religio meant entering the “state” of being a “religious.” One became “religious,” or became “a religious,” when one took monastic vows. It was only with the emergence of the oesa and the development and emergence of the oesa’s religious identity, that we find the merging of the broad sense of religio as a way of life based on worship with the technical, legal definition of “entering the state of being a religious” whereby the members of the oesa came to be seen, and/​ or perhaps simply came to see themselves, as following Augustine’s religio as a way of life based on worship that was itself a legal state, defining that legal state as the state of being a member of Augustine’s religio, and thereby of being a true son of Augustine. This new, and unique, religio, the religio Augustini, became then a distinct Augustinian tradition that provided the structures of meaning for reading Augustine, for receiving Augustine, and led to the historical phenomenon that scholars have identified as a late medieval “Augustinain renaissance,” a renewed scholarly reception of Augustine. It became the basis, both privately—​that is, with respect to the individual members of the oesa, as well as with respect to the group identity of the oesa6—​and publicly for identifying and determining that which was “Augustinian.” It was the theologians of this religio that then defined “Augustinian theology” in the later Middle Ages, the theology of the Augustinians, the members of the oesa, the followers of Augustine’s religio, the true sons and hiers of Augustine. This, then, is the only historically identifiable basis for discerning, describing, and interpreting “Augustinian theology” in the later Middle Ages. This is the foundation of the argument that is presented in this book, which then seeks to trace the origins and components of that theology, the theology of Augustine’s religio. Such a theology, however, was not as such a systematic endeavor. It was a growth, an evolution, affected by political, intellectual, and social factors as much as by theological and religious ones. Thus, before 4 See Saak, High Way to Heaven, 718. 5 Ibid., 710–​722. 6 See Elias, “The We/​I Balance,” in A Society of Individuals, whereby Elias argued that an “I’ can only be defined in relationship to a “We,” even as the “I” remains an individual entity within the collective; Elias, A Society of Individuals “The We/​I Balance.”

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turning to these other factors, or components, that comprised late medieval “Augustinian theology,” I begin with tracing the origins and emergence of that religion itself, the religio Augustini, which provides the foundation of all that follows. Yet if “Augustinian theology” thus conceived was itself not a systematic endeavor, the presentation, and argument, here is, in that the religious identity of the oesa did not emerge all at once, as Athena emerging from the head of Zeus. It was a process, an evolution, a historical development. And as such, it represents a unique Augustinian tradition, in which Augustine was uniquely received. 1

In Search of Origins

On 9 April 1256, Pope Alexander iv established the Ordo Eremitarum Sancti Augustini in his bull Licet Ecclesiae Catholicae, providing the new religious order with its legal foundation.7 Yet whether the Pope’s decree is to be identified with the origins of the oesa is a question of considerable debate, which raises the more general historical problem of how to determine historically the origins and foundations of such an institution. Is Licet Ecclesiae Catholice to be identified as the birth of the oesa? For human beings, birth is celebrated as the beginning of one’s life, independently from the question of the precise origin, or beginning of life, whether it begins at conception or at some point thereafter. For medieval scholars, the point at which the human foetus was ensouled was of significance for determining an individual’s origins, the point at which one becomes human, which was not always at conception, but, following Aristotle, only came forty-​five days after conception.8 In this light, was an individual’s origin the time of conception, the time of ensoulment, or of one’s birth? And then is one’s birth to be identified as the origin or foundation of one’s identity? When does an individual become a distinct individual identity? It is at birth, or perhaps at baptism? Or at confirmation? I am not attempting to make a biological, or even less a

7 Alberic de Meijer and Ralph Kuiters, “Licet Ecclesiae Catholicae,” Aug(L) 6 (1956), 9–​36. For the issue of the dating of Licet Ecclesiae, see idem, 33–​35; cf. Johannes Steinbach, “Sensationeller Fund einer päpstlichen Bulle aus dem Jahre 1256 in Wien,” Augustiner-​Rundbrief (1995), 5–​6; Michael Wernicke, “Die Bulle Oblata Nobis Alexanders iv vom 20. April 1256,” An.Aug. 63 (2000), 53–​57. 8 Cf. Lombardus, 1 Sent. dist. 31, c. 4 (1: 446), citing Augustine, though the citation is to Ambrosiaster, Quaestiones de veteris et novi Testamenti q. 23 (pl 35, 2229); cf. Jordanus de Quedlinburg, Opus Postillarum (Strassburg, 1483), sermo 7A; Saak, High Way to Heaven, 495.

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moral argument for the origin and/​or beginnings of human life, but rather to point to the philosophical problem in determining when human life begins and on what basis such is determined, to illustrate the analogous problem with respect to the oesa. While in general biological models are highly suspect for historical interpretation, the underlying problems of such are analogously present with respect to institutions. When was the oesa “born”? When was it “conceived”? When was it “ensouled”? When was it “confirmed”? Such considerations have importance for analyzing not only the historical question of origins, but also for analyzing the understanding of ‘identity’ and what constitutes origins and foundations as such. What on the surface appears to be a rather straightforward answer, namely, 9 April 1256 and Licet Ecclesie as the analogous ‘birthday’ of the oesa, becomes far more complex when we ask how and when identity is formed. At stake is the very self-​understanding of the oesa. When did the oesa become the oesa as the recognized institutional form of Augustine’s hermits? This is the question the present chapter seeks to investigate and to problematize in attempt to shed additional light on the origins and foundations of Augustine’s hermits, their self-​understanding, and what that might mean for Augustinian monasticism today. 1.1 Augustine’s Monasticism There is little question that Augustine was the father of monasticism in late antique North Africa, if not the father of Western Monasticism as such.9 Augustine’s authorship of a monastic Rule, however, remains a matter for debate, though Luc Verheijen’s exhaustive study of the manuscript traditions offers persuasive evidence that Augustine was the author of the Praeceptum.10 Based on the authentic sermons 355 and 356, Augustine had established at least two groups of monastics, the first being of a more eremitical nature, and the second consisting of his priests in the cathedral compound.11 These two 9

10 11

See the still unsurpassed work of Adolar Zumkeller, Das Mönchtum des heiligen Augustinus, Cassiciacum xi (Würzburg, 1950). For the historical context of late antique Northern Africa, see now William E. Klingshirn, “Cultural Geography. Roman North Africa,” in A Companion to Augustine, ed. Mark Vessey (Chichester, 2012), 24–​39; for the general political context of Augustine’s life, see Christopher Kelly, “Political History. The Later Roman Empire,” in A Companion to Augustine, 11–​23. See also E.L. Saak, “Augustinian Order,” in oghra 2:591–​596. L. Verheijen, La Règle de saint Augustin, 2 vols. (Paris, 1967); Conrad Leyser, “Augustine in the Latin West, 430-​c. 900,” in Mark Vessey, ed., A Companion to Augustine, 450–​464; 460–​464. The first, referred to as the ‘Garden cloister’, consisted of religious joining Augustine in the garden given him by Bishop Valerius to found a monastery; the second, was a cloister of priests, established after Augustine was ordained Bishop; see Zumkeller, Das Mönchtum, 62–​87. He had already though lived a monastic life in Thagaste, though there is debate

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foundations became the source, at least indirectly, of the two major forms of Augustinian monasticism in the Middle Ages, namely, the Augustinian Regular Canons, established juridically in the eleventh century, and the eremitical Order of Hermits of St. Augustine in the thirteenth. Though Augustine’s monasticism survived the invasion of the Vandals and “continued to live still until the sixth century,”12 a direct line of continuity between Augustine’s original monastic groups and either the Canons or the Hermits is impossible to make. What can be historically verified is the existence from the sixth century of the influence of Augustine’s Rule and the continued presence in the West of “the monastic life in the spirit of Augustine.”13 Both the Canons and the Hermits are central for charting the influence of Augustine’s monasticism. Yet in the fourteenth century, the Hermits especially claimed to be the original and special Order of St. Augustine as his true sons, and the Hermits are the focus of the present investigation, though are so with the recognition of the importance of the Augustinian Canons to the history of Augustine’s monasticism. What we are seeking, therefore, is the historical origins and foundation of the institutionalization of Augustine’s monasticism in the Order of Hermits of St. Augustine. 1.2 The oesa as Institution In several studies Balbino Rano shed much new light on the origins of the oesa and its early traditions.14 One of the claims of his work was that the origins of the oesa should be seen as having been established in 1244: “The Order,” Rano

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whether living as a servus dei as he did can be equated with being a monastic. Sermons 355 and 356 circulated together as an independent treatise with the title De vita et morum clericorum (see Leyser, “Augustine in the Latin West,” 457–​460), and were included in the earliest collections of the pseudo-​Augustinian Sermones ad fratres suos in eremo, a distinctively eremitical construction. For the Sermones ad fratres suos in eremo, see Saak, Creating Augustine. ch. 3. “Trotzdem lebte es [i.e. Das monastischen Lebenswerk des Hl. Augustin] noch bis ins sechste Jahrhundert fort.” Zumkeller, Das Mönchtum, 114. Referring to Fulgentius of Ruspe (467–​532), Zumkeller noted that “Er war ein begeisterter Anhänger des monastischen Lebens im Geiste augustins …” Zumkeller, Das Mönchtum, 115. Balbino Rano, O.S.A., The Order of Saint Augustine (s.l., 1975); idem, “Los dos Primeras Obras Conocidas sobre el Origen de la Orden Augustiniana,” An.Aug. 45 (1982): 331–​376; idem, “San Agustín y los orígenes de su Orden. Regla, Monasterio de Tagaste y Sermones ad fratres in eremo,” in San Agustin en el XVI Centenario de su Conversion 386/​87–​1987, La Ciudad de Dios, Revista Agustiniana cc (El Escorial, 1987), 649–​727; idem, “San Agustin y su Orden Algunos Sermones de Agustinos del Primer Siglo (1244–​1344), An.Aug. 53 (1990), 7–​93; Augustinian Origins, Charism, and Spirituality (Villanova, 1995).

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asserted, “came into being in March 1244 through the uniting of several hermit groups, as decreed by two bulls of Innocent iv, Incumbit nobis and Praesentium nobis, both issued on the same day, December 16, 1243.”15 As a result of Rano’s work, an increasingly common school of opinion in the Order today sees its foundation as beginning with the “Little Union,” the union of the Tuscan Hermits in 1244. In that context, the Great Union, then, is considered to have been a continuation of the unification of the Augustinian Hermits, and though it represents new departures, it stands in the tradition of the on-​going development of the oesa that had been begun in 1244. In effect, the significance of Licet ecclesiae catholicae has been relegated to being of secondary importance. It is questionable, though, whether the ‘Little Union’ can bear the weight attributed to it. In the early thirteenth century we find the papacy taking heremitical groups in Italy under its protection, though without designating them as the order of St. Augustine or even as following Augustine’s Rule. We see this, for example, in the bull, Iustis petentium, of Innocent iii, dated 18 October 1205.16 This bull was reissued by Honorius iii on 18 October 1217, addressed Dilectis filiis Oberto priori et fratribus Eremi de Morimundo, Salutem etc.17 Similar privileges and protection were extended to the Hermits of Brettino by Gregory ix in his bull Sacrosancta Romana Ecclesia, dated 26 November 1217, again without mention of Augustine.18 The earliest mention of the order of St. Augustine is in the bull of Gregory viii, (In) Apost(olicae Sedis adminsitratione) Nobis, of December 1187, addressed Dilectis filiis Priori (et fratribus) Ordinis (S.) Augustini in eremo Sancti ( Jacobi) Aquaviva prope Liburnam in the diocesis of

15

16 17 18

Balbino Rano, The Order of St. Augustine, 2. For the early history of the oesa, see also David Gutiérrez, The Augustinians in the Middle Ages, 1256–​1356 (Villanova, 1984). The early history of the Order, that is the history of the various groups that came to comprise the oesa, is still very much in need of investigation. It should also be noted that also on 16 December 1244, Innocent iv placed the hermits of Centumcellis under the guardianship of Richard Annibaldi; Innocent iv, Pium est, dated 16 December 1244; Benignus Van Luijk, osa, ed., Bullarium Ordinis Eremitarum S. Augustini, Periodus formationis, 1187–​1256, Cassiciacum 18 (Würzburg, 1964), n. 31 (p. 31–​32); cf. ibid., n. 38 (p. 35–​36). In the history of the Order created by the Anonymous Florentine, Nicolas of Alessandria, and Henry of Friemar, Centumcellis was seen as the original foundation of the oesa by Augustine himself, before he returned to Africa. There is thus some historical evidence for the early fourteenth-​century Hermits’ assertion of the importance of Centumcellis, though in the accounts of Nicolas and Henry, the history became “mythified”; see Saak, High Way to Heaven, 160–​234. Van Luijk, Bullarium, n. 2 (p. 7). Ibid., n. 8 (p. 13). Ibid., n. 11 (p. 14–​15).

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Pisa.19 The next reference to the order of St. Augustine we find is on 7 March 1228 in Gregory ix’s Conquesti sunt, addressed to the Archdeacon of Aretino concerning the prior et fratres heremitarum de Rosia, Ordinis S. Augustini.20 Other groups addressed include the Poor Catholics of Brother Durandus de Osca,21 the Brothers of Bernardus, the founder of the hermitage in Costa de Acqua,22 and the hermits of St. Mary’s in Morimundum, cited above,23 with no mention made of the groups existing as orders of St. Augustine, or even as following Augustine’s Rule. The hermits of Mons de Branca, however, did follow Augustine’s Rule, though were clearly stipulated as celebrating the divine office in morem Canonicorum Regularium.24 It is, though, somewhat unclear what the term Ordo Sancti Augustini meant at this time, with ordo during this period seeming to be in transition from the exclusive and proper sense of” ’way of life” to the later sense of corporation. The title “Order of St. Augustine,” having been applied to corporations which observed many different institutions and constitutions, no longer means a way of life according to the mind of St. Augustine but only a certain corporation which has received his rule.25 The same ambiguity applies for the Little Union of 1244. In December of 1228, Gregory ix granted the request of a group of hermits in the diocese of Brettino to live according to the Rule of St. Augustine, absolving them from the observance of their previous order. What is significant here is that Gregory acknowledges that these hermits founded a “new order,” based on the Rule of Augustine.26 Seven years later, on 13 March 1235, Innocent issued his bull Quae omnium conditoris, confirming the constitutions of the new order.27 On 24 September 1243, Innocent further granted the Hermits of Brettino the rights to hear confessions and preach, and stipulated that within three months of the death of their prior general, a new prior general must be elected. Innocent referred to their order as a pia religio, and recognized the offices of visitators, 19

Ibid. n. 1 (p. 7); the bull is dated between 11 and 17 December; cf. Saak, High Way to Heaven, 214–​215. 20 Ibid. n. 14 (p. 16–​17). 21 Ibid. n. 3 (p. 8–​9). 22 Ibid. n. 5 (p. 11). 23 Ibid., n. 8 (p. 13). 24 Ibid., n. 6 (p. 12). 25 R. Kuitiers, “Licet Ecclesiae Catholicae” (Commentary), 20. 26 Gregory ix, Cum olim sicut intelleximus, dated 8 December 1228; Van Luijk, Bullarium, n. 15 (p 17). The previous Rule that had been followed was most likely the Rule of St. Benedict. On 28 March 1244, Innocent iv released the Tuscan Hermits from obedience to the Rule of St. Benedict, placing them under the Rule of St. Augustine; see Innocent iv, Cum a nobis, dated 28 March 1244. Ibid., n. 36 (p. 34–​35). 27 Ibid., n. 19 (p. 20–​21).

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definitors, prior generals, and the existence of General Chapters, or in other words, much the same structure that soon was to be had by the oesa.28 Rano claimed that Innocent had granted such privileges to the unified Tuscan Hermits in his bull Vota devotorum of 23 March 1244, thus establishing the sequence: first the foundation charter, then the first General Chapter (though Rano does not cite any documentation for this), and then the granting of the privileges to preach and hear confessions.29 Yet Innocent had already issued Vota devotorum on 24 September 1243 addressed “To the beloved Prior and brothers of Brettino,”30 which he simply resent in March of 1244 addressed “To the beloved sons, Prior, and brother hermits in Tuscany of the Order of St. Augustine.”31 Moreover, just two and one half months before the supposed “foundation charter” of the oesa, Innocent issued a charter of privileges to the Hermits of Brettino, establishing their right to follow the Rule of St. Augustine and exempting them from lay or ecclesiastical interference.32 So what are we to make of all this? If the foundation charter of the oesa was Innocent iv’s bull Incumbit nobis of 16 December 1243, there has to be some legitimation, some evidence that Incumbit nobis was different from previous bulls. Why would not Cum olim intelleximus of Gregory ix (December 1228) recognizing the Hermits of Brettino as a “new order” following the Rule of St. Augustine serve just as well, especially in light of the later constitutions and privileges granted in Vota devotorum in September 1243? Rano dates the foundation of the oesa to 1244 based on Incumbit nobis as the Order’s foundation charter, but Incumbit nobis does not go as far as does Licet ecclesiae. True, it united the Tuscan Hermits, with the exception of the Williamites, and that is not without significance.33 Incumbit nobis also placed the Tuscan Hermits under the protection and guidance of Cardinal Richard Annibaldi, and Annibaldi has been seen as the major force behind of Great Union of 1256.34 The question, though, is whether such a move represents the foundation of a new order such as the oesa. Though the united Tuscan Hermits had houses 28 Ibid. n. 27 (p. 27–​28). 29 Rano, The Order, 3. 30 See note 22 above. 31 “Dilectis filiis Priori et fratribus eremitis in Tuscia Ordinis S. Augustini, Salutem etc,” Van Luijk, Bullarium, n. 34 (p. 33–​34). 32 See Van Luijk, Bullarium, n. 28 (p. 28–​30). 33 For the Williamites, see Kaspar Elm, Beiträge zur Geschichte des Wilhelmitenordens (Cologne, 1962). 34 See Saak, High Way to Heaven, 44–​48. See also Francis Roth, O.S.A., “Cardinal Richard Annibaldi. First Protector of the Augustinian Order (1243–​1276),” Aug(L) 2 (1952), 26–​60, 108–​149, 230–​247; 3 (1953), 21–​34, 283–​313; 4 (1954), 5–​24.

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outside of Italy “in places beyond the Alps,”35 it was only after the Great Union of 1256 that the oesa became a truly international Order with a centralized administration governing all houses of Augustinian hermits. Incumbit nobis was not as comprehensive as was Licet ecclesiae, but then why not go back to Cum olim intelleximus? The influence of Cardinal Annibaldi is certainly a factor to consider, but is it sufficient to claim that therefore the origins of the Great Union are to be found with his protectorate of the Tuscan Hermits? Rano argued that the term Ordo St. Augustini was originally virtually synonymous with Regula St. Augustini, distinguishing those followers of the ordo canonicus from the ordo monasticus, and it is not without significance in this light that several papal bulls specifically relieve the addressed eremitical groups from adherence to the Rule of St. Benedict to follow the Rule of St. Augustine.36 Yet Incumbit nobis is addressed: “To all the hermit sons constituted in Tuscany, with the exception of the Williamites,”37 whereas Licet ecclesiae is explicit that it is forming all hermits therein mentioned into “one profession and regular observance of the Order of Hermits of St. Augustine.”38 The title itself is a new departure: in previous bulls, the various groups of Italian hermits were designated as the “hermits of brother John the Good, of the order of St. Augustine,” or as the “hermits of Brettino, of the order of St. Augustine,” or as “the brother hermits of Rosia, of the order of St. Augustine.” Incumbit nobis states that all the hermits in Tuscany should assume “the one Rule and order of St. Augustine,”39 yet does not establish a new Order or title.40 The first 35 36 37 38 39

40

See Inoocent iv’s bull Religiosam vitam eligentibus of 31 May 1253: “Dilectis filiis Priori et fratribus eremitis in ultramontanis partibus constitutis, tam praesentibus quam futuris, regularem vitam professis, in perpetuum.” Van Luik, Bullarium, n. 104 (p. 85–​86). See note 20 above. “Dilectis filiis universis Eremitis, exceptis Fratribus S. Guilelmi, per Tusciam constitutis, Salutem etc.” Innocent iv, Incumbit nobis, 16 December 1234. Bullarium, n. 32 (p. 32–​33). “… vos et domos vestras in unam Ordinis observantiam et vivendi formulam uniformem redigi …” Alexander iv, Licet ecclesiae 3, 9 April 1256; ed. Alberic de Meijer, 12,11–​12). “Nos nolentes vos sine pastore sicut oves errantes post gregum vestigia evagari universitati vestrae per Apostolica scripta mandamus, quatenus in unum vos regulare propositum conformantes, Regulam Beati Augustini et Ordinem assumatis ac secundum eum profiteamini de caetero vos victuros; salvis observantiis seu constitutionibus faciendis a vobis, dummodo eiusdem Ordinis non obvient institutis.” Innocent iv, Incumbit nobis, 16 December 1243; Van Luijk, Bullarium, n. 32 (p. 32–​33). That it was a union of various eremitical groups there is no question. The issue here is that the designation Ordo Sancti Augustini was a reference to the ordo canonicus, as Rano pointed out. As such it had been in use since at least 1187 (see above, n. 13), and was applied as well to the Hermits of John the Good and the Hermits of Brettino. No new title is given the union in 1244, and it is only with Licet Ecclesiae that there is a new ordo, comprised of the unification of various eremitical groups, all of which were, at least previous

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reference we have to the Ordo Eremitarum Sancti Augustini is in the bull Dilecti filii, priores et fratres of Innocent iv, dated 3 August 1252.41 Yet Innocent did not consistently use the title Ordo Eremitarum Sancti Augustini, and most often used simply Ordo Sancti Augustini as a designation of a particular group of hermits.42 Moreover, on 14 April 1253, Innocent wrote “to all priors and brothers of the order of Hermits,” concerning their profession and habit, giving the responsibility for insuring uniformity to the prior general, Lanfranc of Milan, who would soon become the first prior general of the oesa.43 Lanfranc was a member of the Bonites (the Hermits of John the Good), and here Innocent addressed the Bonites simply as the order of Hermits. The first form of profession later used by the oesa was established for the Bonites. The Bonites, the Tuscan Hermits, and the Hermits of Brettino were still three very distinct orders, even if all three individually could be referred to as the Order of Hermits, or as the Hermits of the Order of St. Augustine, and even if Cardinal Annibaldi had a special relationship to the Tuscan Hermits. In all bulls previous to Licet to 1256, of the Order of St. Augustine. There is no evidence in the papal bulls previous to Licet Ecclesiae to claim that the unification of the Tuscan Hermits in 1244 was a “pre union, union”; the line could also be seen as running from the Bonites to Licet Ecclesiae. The privileges granted to the Tuscan Hermits in the bull Religiosam vitam eligentibus of Innocent iv, dated 26 April 1244 (Bullarium, n. 46) are virtually identical to those granted the Hermits of Brettino in Quoties a nobis petitur of 1 October 1243 (Bullarium, n. 28). The same privileges were granted to the Hermits of Brettino on 3 November 1245 (Bullarium, n. 55) and to the Bonites on 26 April 1246 (Bullarium, n. 56). There is no evidence to privilege the Tuscan Hermits as the group of Augustinian Hermits that led to the Great Union. 41 “Venerabilibus fratribus universis Archiepiscopis et Episcopis praesentes litteras inspecturis, Salutem etc. Dilecti fìlii Priores et fratres Ordinis Eremitarum S. Augustini Nobis humiliter supplicarunt, ut eis construendi ecclesias et domos in terris, maneriis et possessionibus, quae sibi a Christi fidelibus conferuntur, ac audiendi et celebrandi divina officia in eisdem ecclesiis et recipiendi ecclesiastica sacramenta licentiam de benignitate solita largiremur; vobis igitur qui locorum dioecesani existitis in hac parte deferre volentes, universitati vestrae per Apostolica scripta mandamus, quatenus eis concedatis licentiam postulatam sine iuris praeiudicio alieni. Datum Perusii iii Nonas Augusti, Pont. nostri anno decimo.” Ibid., n. 97. See also ibid., n. 101. 42 Thus, for example, the usual form of address can be seen in Innocent’s bull Quia ex apostolici cura of 19 April 1244: “Dilectis filiis Priori et fratribus Eremitarum Ord. S. Aug. in Tuscia, Salutem etc.” Ibid., n. 43. 43 Innocent iv, Admonet Nos cura, dated 14 April 1253. Ibid., n. 102. The form of profession here established was essentially identical to the form of profession of the oesa: “Fratres etiam, qui de caetero in Ordine vestro debuerint profiteri, eidem Priori Generali vel certo eius nuntio profiteantur hoc modo: Ego N. facio professionem et promitto obedientiam Deo et B. Mariae Virgini et tibi Priori Generali Ordinis Eremitarum tuisque successoribus usque ad mortem secundum Regulam B. Augustini et Constitutiones Fratrum istius Ordinis.” Ibid.

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ecclesiae the term Ordo St. Augustini seems indeed to refer to the “way of life” expressed in the Rule of St. Augustine, as Rano indicated. The primary designation is the designation of the group itself, the brothers of John the Good, the Hermits of Brettino, etc., which are then further designated as “of the order of St. Augustine.” And the same can be said of the “Little Union.” With Licet ecclesiae, a new use comes to the fore: the Order of St. Augustine is no longer simply a designation for a particular group’s way of life, but is the Order that is being established, one Order and one profession, of the Hermits of St. Augustine.44 The possessives should not go unnoted: the Hermits in question are no longer the Hermits of John the Good, or the Hermits of Rosia, or of Brettino; now, for the first time, they are the Hermits of St. Augustine, which form one Order. It is only with Licet ecclesiae that we have a social group designated as being “of Augustine,” namely, the hermits of Augustine’s Order. If one wants to look into the history preceding the Great Union for the origins of the Order, developments with respect to the Tuscan Hermits have no greater claim than do those regarding the Hermits of Brettino or the Hermits of John the Good. While it is certainly important to point to antecedent developments, of which Incumbit nobis is one among others, the oesa only came into being with Licet ecclesiae. This last statement, however, must also be questioned. What does it mean to ‘come into being’? If Licet ecclesiae provided the juridical origins for the oesa, is this in and of itself identical with the origins and foundations of a religious order as such? In many ways, does not the origins and foundations of the oesa indeed go back to Augustine’s original monasticism in Hippo? Augustine did not found, or establish, the oesa, despite the attempts by fourteenth-​century Hermits to argue that he did, thus creating the origins of the ‘myth of Augustine’.45 But he did establish the ‘way of life’ that continued in the oesa, even before its juridical foundation. Yet even juridically, the Ordo Eremitarum Sancti Augustini was in existence before Licet Ecclesiae, depending on the importance one gives to the name itself. As mentioned above, the first use of the title Ordo Eremitarum Sancti Augustini is in Innocent iv’s bull Dilecti filii Priores et fratres of 3 August 1252.46 Here Innocent directs Archbishops and bishops to grant the oesa permission to build churches and houses in their territories, and the right to celebrate the divine office and the sacrarments. 44

Alexander first used the title Ordo Eremitarum Sancti Augustini in his bull Hiis quae pro animarum of 31 July 1255 (ibid., n. 152), but thereafter returned to the former usage, such as in his bull Pacis vestrae of 13 August 1255: “Dilectis filiis … Priori Generali et universis prioribus atque fratribus Eremitarum Ord. B. Augustini.” Ibid., n. 154. 45 Saak, High Way to Heaven, 187–​232. 46 Van Luijk, Bullarium, n. 97 (p. 77).

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There is no further indication as to which groups in specific are included within the oesa. Moreover, such is being granted based on the request of the “beloved sons, priors, and brothers of the Order of Hermits of St. Augustine.”47 On 14 March 1253, Innocent again used the designation oesa, and again the bull gives no further indication of which group or groups of hermits is being so termed.48 The following month Innocent addressed the Bonites as the Ordo Eremitarum in his Bull Admonet Nos cura, in which he also established the form of profession that would be used as well by the oesa after Licet Ecclesiae.49 Hereafter Innocent was more specific, at least at times, addressing Dilectis filiis priori et conventui Eremitarum de Brictinis Ordinis S. Augsutini Fanensis dioecesis,50 and Dilectis filiis Priori Generali et universis fratribus Eremitis de Tuscia Ordinis S. Augustini,51 though using again the title of oesa on 27 April 1254 in Provisionis vestrae cupimus.52 He also used the form Dilectis filiis Priori et fratribus Eremitarum Ordinis S. Augustini, particularly for the Hermits of Brettino,53 though it is also found for the Tuscan hermits.54 This term, namely, fratres Eremitarum Ordinis S. Augustini is first used in Gregory ix’s Conquesti sunt of 1228, though with Innocent iv’s Quoniam ut ait of 26 April 1244 it becomes increasingly common, twelve years before Licet Ecclesiae.55 Kuiters designated Eremitarum ordinis Sancti Augustini as “a second pre-​Union term,” though did not discuss its significance.56 The point here is that if the Bonites were the Ordo Eremitarum, should not the origins of the Great Union be found not in the 47

“Venerabilibus fratribus universis Archiepiscopis et Episocpis praesentes litteras inspecturis, Salutem etc. Dilecti filii Priores et fratres Ordinis Eremitarum S. Augustini Nobis humiliter supplicarunt, ut eis construendi ecclesias et domos in terris, maneriis et possessionibus, quae sibi a Christi fidelibus conferuntur, ac audiendi et celebrandi divina officia in eisdem ecclesiis et recipiendi ecclesiastica sacramenta licentiam de benignitate solita largiremur; vobis igitur qui locorum dioecesani exististis in hac parte deferre volentes, universitati vestrae per Apostolica scripta mandamus, quatenus eis concedatis licentiam postulatam sine iuris praeiudicio alieni.” Innocent iv, Dilectis filii Priores et fratres, 3 August 1252; Van Luijk, Bullarium n. 97 (p. 77). Kuiters claimed that the name Ordo Eremitarum Sancti Augustini had been used three years before Licet Eccleisae; Kuiters, “Liceet Ecclesiae (Commentary),” 21. 48 Van Luijk, Bullarium. n. 101 (p. 78–​79). 49 Ibid n. 102 (p. 79–​85), addressed Universis prioribus et fratribus Ordinis Eremitarum, Salutem etc. (p. 79). 50 Innocent iv, Providentia laudabilis, 1 July 1253; Van Luijk, Bullarium n. 106 (p. 87). 51 Innocent iv, Cum a Nobis petitur, 15 February 1254; Van Luijk, Bullarium n. 111 (p. 91). 52 Van Luijk, Bullarium n. 114 (p. 93). 53 E.g. Innocent iv, Devotionis vestrae, 3 October 1246; Van Luijk, Bullarium n. 58 (p. 56). 54 E.g. Innocent iv, Dilecti filii Prior, 29 July 1248; Van Luijk, Bullarium n. 70 (p. 62). 55 Van Luijk, Bullarium n. 47 (p. 43). 56 Kuiters, “Licet Ecclesiae (Commentary),” 21–​22.

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Tuscan Hermits, but in the Bonites, especially with Lanfranc, the Prior General of the Bonites, elected as the new Prior General of the oesa? Before the Great Union, we find Ordo Eremitarum Sancti Augustini, fratres Eremitarum Ordinis Sancti Augustini, and Eremitae Ordinis Sancti Augustini. Was Eremitarum Ordinis Sancti Augustini simply a variant of the ‘new’ title Ordo Eremitarum Sancti Augustini of Licet Ecclesiae? This question was addressed explicitly by Henry of Friemar in his Treatise on the Origins and Development of the Order of the Hermit Friars and its True and Real Title, composed by 1334.57 Here Henry asserted: … the truer title of the order is to say Ordo fratrum Eremitarum Sancti Augustini than to say Eremitae Ordinis Sancti Augustini. The former suffices for some who are said to be of the order of St. Augustine because they profess and follow Augustine's Rule, as is the case too for those in the service of St. Mary and certain others. But our order is called the order of hermits of St. Augustine to distinguish it from other hermits who do not follow the life and Rule of Augustine, nor have their institution from blessed Augustine. From this it is clear that the title Ordo Eremitarum Sancti Augustini is only proper to our order and to no other.58 Without question Henry was defending the uniqueness of his own order, and its claims to priority, and thus could have been making his point after the fact, so to speak, making a distinction that had not been as clear the previous one hundred years.59 But his sensitivities to the title are not without import when the terminology was a major issue, and when we are trying to discern the origins of the oesa and when it came into existence. The title as such did not originate with Licet Ecclesiae and the Great Union, nor with Incumbit nobis and the ‘Little Union’. Moreover, the title remained in flux even after Licet Ecclesiae. 57 58

59

Rudolph Arbesmann, “Henry of Friemar’s ‘Treatise on the origin and development of the Order of the Hermit Friars and its true and real title’,” Aug(L) 6 (1956), 37–​145. “… quod verior titulus ordinis est dicere ordo fratrum eremitarum sancti Augustini quam dicere eremitae ordinis sancti Augustini. Quod enim dicatur aliquis ordinis sancti Augustini, ad hoc sufficit, quod eius regulam profiteatur et servet, sicut patet in servis sanctae Mariae et quibusdam aliis. Sed ordo noster dictus est ordo eremitarum sancti Augustini ad distinctionem aliorum eremitarum non sectantium vitam et regulam Augustini nec habentium institutionem a beato Augustino. Ex quo patet, quod iste titulus ordo eremitarum sancti Augustini est solum proprius nostro ordini et nulli alii.” Henricus de Friemaria, Tractatus 3 (ed. Arbesmann, 100,56–​67); hereafter cited as Hen.Fr. Tract. with the page numbers to the edition given in parenthesis. See Saak, Creating Augustine, 64–​79.

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1.3 The Formation of the oesa Henry was fighting for the identity of his Order, and with good reason. On 20 January 1327 John xxii issued Veneranda sanctorum, in which he gave the Augustinian Hermits joint custody of Augustine’s tomb in Pavia with the Augustinian Canons. This grant sparked a debate between the Hermits and the Canons over which was the original and most authentic order of St. Augustine, which was to last for the remainder of the later Middle Ages.60 John xxii, in any case, was clear, referring to the Hermits as Augustine’s sons, reuniting them with their “teacher, father, leader, and head.”61 Previous to John xxii, the title of the Order continued to alternate between fratres Ordinis Eremitarum Sancti Augustini and fratres eremitarum Ordinis Sancti Augustini. Henry could not omit asserting his Order’s true and real title. It had not yet become set, even with Licet Ecclesiae. Alexander iv himself used both formulas. In Ut eo fortius, dated 15 April 1256, Alexander wrote to his Dilectis filiis Generali, et Provincialibus, Prioribus, ac universis fratribus Eremitarum Ordinis Sancti Augustini.62 He too at times gave specific addresses, such as in Meritis vestrae of 13 June 1257, addressed Dilectis filiis, Generali, et ceteris Prioribus, ac Fratribus Eremitis Ordinis S. Augustini per districtum Pisanum constitutis,63 and Religionis vestrae meretur of 5 March 1259 sent to his Dilectis filiis, Priori et Fratribus Eremitis Domus S. Augustini iuxta portam de Arcu Senensis Ordinis Beati Augustini.64 While these groups of Augustinian hermits could perhaps have been outside the Union, this was not the case for the Hermits of Brettino, to whom he wrote on 7 July 1260 in his bull Solet annuere, addressed to his Dilectis filiis, Priori, et Fratribus domus Eremitarum de Brictinis Ordinis Sancti Augustini Fanensis Dioecesis.65 Four years after the Great Union, Alexander still used terms to refer to the members of the union that had been current previous to the union.66 What was, therefore, the effect of Licet Ecclesiae? Perhaps Alexander had just not become accustomed to a single Ordo Eremitarum Sancti Augustini and easily lapsed into previous usage. Yet Alexander’s successors continued the lack of uniformity in addressing 60 See, High Way to Heaven, 160–​234. 61 Saak, High Way to Heaven, 160. 62 Lorenzo Empoli, Bullarium Ordinis Eremitarum Sancti Augustini (Apostolic Camera: Rome, 1628), 21. 63 Ibid., p. 28; cf. Alexander iv, Inducunt nos, 7 July 1258; Empoli, Bullarium, 28–​29. 64 Ibidl, p. 29; cf. Alexander iv, Vitae perennis gloria 15 June 1259; Empoli, Bullarium, 31. 65 Ibid., 32. 66 For the difficulties in effecting the union, particularly with respect to the Wilhelmites, see Elm, Beiträge, 108–​119.

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the order. Urban iv did write to the Dilectis filiis, Generali, et Provincialibus, Prioribus, Prebyteriis Ordinis Eremitarum Sancti Augustini,67 but more frequently addressed the ‘institution’ as Eremitarum Ordinis Sancti Augustini, a term Kuiters considered to have been ‘pre-​union’, including on 7 May 1262 writing to his Dilectis filiis, Priori, et Fratribus domus Eremitarum de Brictinis Ordinis Sancti Augustini in Solet annuere.68 Clement iv, Urban’s successor, only once wrote to the Ordo Eremitarum Sancti Augustini,69 preferring, it seems, the form fratribus Eremitarum70 or fratribus eremitis Ordinis Sancti Augustini.71 Gregory x’s single bull regarding the order, Sub religionis habitu of 5 January 1271, refers to his dilecti filii, Prior Provincialis, et Fratres Eremitarum in Tuscia Ordinis Sancti Augustini.72 In his three bulls concerning the Order, Celestine v was the first pontif to use exclusively the title Ordo Eremitarum Sancti Augustini,73 though Boniface viii, who used Ordo Eremitarum Sancti Augustini more frequently and more regularly than did his predecessors, with the exception of Celestine, still writes in Inter sollicitudines nostras of 13 January 1303 to his Dilectis filiis, Generali et Provincialibus Prioribus Fratrum Eremitarum Ordinis Sancti Augustini.74 It is only with John xxii that we find an established consistent use of the title Ordo Eremitarum Sancti Augustini, which was finally set from his time forth. Whereas Licet Ecclesiae had brought together various groups of hermits, and gave them the title Ordo Eremitarum Sancti Augustini, John xxii some seventy years later marks the beginning of the exclusive use of the Order’s name and title. In this light, it is perhaps most accurate to say that it was only with John xxii that Licet Ecclesiae had effect, thus marking indeed the origins of the oesa, giving the Order a firm foundation. Henry of Friemar was not arguing about mere trifles. 1.4 Origins and Identity The question of the title of the Order, however, is not definitive. Shakespeare’s “A rose by any other name still smells as sweet”75 applies. How the members of the union viewed themselves is equally important for establishing orgins 67 Urban iv, Provisionis vestrae, 1 May 1262; Empoli, Bullarium, p. 366; Desideriis vestris, 10 December 1262; Empoli, Bullarium, 370–​371. 68 Empoli, Bullarium, 367. 69 Clement iv, Provisionis vestrae, 22 May 1269; Empoli, Bullarium, 63–​64. 70 Clement iv, Sub religionis habitu, 9 June 1266; Empoli, Bullarium, 62. 71 Clemenet iv, Devotionis augmentum, 21 June 1265; Empoli, Bullarium, 61. 72 Empoli, Bullarium, 127. 73 Empoli, Bullarium, 99–​103. 74 Empoli, Bullarium, 50–​52; Saak, High Way to Heaven, 741–​742. 75 William Shakespear, Romeo and Juliet, Act 2, scene 2.

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and foundations, even though the Order had been a papal creation, at least in some form, and thus how popes identified the Order is of significance. Henry of Friemar recognized this fact and wrote his treatise to defend the emerging identity of the oesa, contributing thereby to the Order’s identity itself.76 In some ways the problem is that of the continuum discussed by medieval philosophers. When did the oesa begin to be and on what basis is that to be determined? The first instance of the use of the term Ordo Eremitarum Sancti Augustini by Innocent iv in 1252 is not without significance. The title preceded the ‘Great Union’. The ‘Little Union’ of 1244 may indeed have unified various Tuscan eremitical groups following Augustine’s Rule, but has no greater claim to have been the origins of the oesa than do the Bonites or the Hermits of Brettino, and Gregory x some fifteen years after the union still wrote to the Tuscan hermits as an identifiable group distinct, it seems, from the oesa as such. Juridically Licet Ecclesiae established a new being, but to what extent was that creation simply a paper exercise, at least to begin with? It can serve as a terminus a quo, analogous perhaps, to return to the biological analogy, with ‘conception’, yet a fertilized egg is not quite yet an embryo, and an embryo is not quite yet a human individual, even if it is a human being. In these terms, the ‘Little Union’ then would simply have been the ‘twinkling in the parents’ eyes’ preceding conception, and the same, perhaps, applies to the first use of the title in 1252. Yet it is birth that we celebrate for individuals in terms of their ‘beginnings’. In many ways, it is historically most accurate to claim that the ‘birth’ of the oesa is marked not by the ‘Little Union’ of 1244, nor by the ‘Great Union’ of 1256, but by John xxii’s Veneranda sanctorum of 1327. An analogous historical problem concerns the end point as well. When did the oesa cease to be, or begin to cease to be, asking here again the philosophical problem of incipit and desinit? The oesa changed its name in 1968, leaving out the term ‘Hermits’ from the title, becoming, once again, simply the Order of St. Augustine. With the change in name, a new being was created; or perhaps, the change in name simply recognized a change that had already taken place. What is the relationship, therefore, between the osa today and the oesa of the past? When did the oesa cease being the oesa and begin to be the osa, even if not recognized by the title? This is the general problem of historical change that all historians face. When did ‘The Reformation’ begin, simply to take one example? Was it on 31 October 1517 with Luther’s posting of the Ninety-​Five Theses? Was it Luther’s excommunication in 1521? Was it the first time we find

76

See E.L. Saak, “The Creation of Augustinian Identity in the Later Middle Ages,” idem, Creating Augustine.

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evidence of Luther’s ‘Reformation theology’, perhaps as early as 1515 or even before? In many ways, it depends how one defines the term ‘The Reformation’, and how that term is understood. With respect to the oesa, there is certainly continuity with the current osa, just as there was continuity between the various orders of St. Augustine before 1256 and the oesa. Yet the osa is not what the oesa was, and neither were the various orders of St. Augustine prior to the Great Union. This is not, though, all simply a matter of labels; it affects the understanding of the ‘thing’ itself. Names can change, but how do we chart and describe the ‘thing’, and what is that ‘thing’ to begin with? For the oesa, was it the union of various Augustinian hermits? Was it the form of profession, or the habit? We have already seen the importance Henry of Friemar gave to the title itself. What made, and what continues to make, an Augustinian? This was the question Jordan of Quedlinburg answered in this Liber Vitasfratrum, completed by 1357, for his confrère John of Basel.77 Jordan saw very clearly the evolutionary nature of his order, which began with Augustine himself, and then had a second phase in the period of union, or for Jordan, of re-​union, the gathering together of Augustine’s dispersed heirs beginning with Innocent iv and culminating with Alexander iv, but then had a new point of departure with John xxii. Yet Augustine’s original foundation was simply, for Jordan, the reviving and reforming of the apostolic life that had begun with the apostles and continued in the desert fathers. Thus for Jordan, Paul of Thebes and Anthony were as much “founders” of the oesa as was Augustine, in many ways, but then so were the apostles themsevles.78 For Jordan, Licet Ecclesiae marked the beginning of the Order’s status modernus, distinguishing it from the status antiquus that had its origins with Augustine, but that had been founded by the apostles.79 Was the change from oesa to osa in 1968 therefore perhaps the beginnings of the Order’s status postmodernus? Is there not,

77

“Mirae caritatis virtus ex profluo pectoris vestri emanans fonte de quibusdam quaestionibus dudum conscientiam vestram, ut scripsistis, perugentibus, utpote qui beatissimi Patris nostri Augustini verus filius existere …”Jor. vf, Epist. Ded. (ed. Arbesmann, 1,5–​8); see also Saak, High Way to Heaven, 267–​315. 78 E.L. Saak, “Ex vita patrum formatur vita fratrum: The Appropriation of the Desert Fathers in the Liber Vitasfratrum of Jordan of Quedlinburg, oesa (d. 1380),” Church History and Religious Culture 86 (2006): 191–​228. 79 Saak, High Way to Heaven, 280–​281.

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in all the waves of reform and renewal,80 a continuity of identity, at least of some sort? Jordan claimed that the Order’s identity, that is, what made one an Augustinian, was following Augustine’s religion, the religio Augustini.81 The true son of Augustine was he who followed Augustine as his “rule and exemplar”, more than simply wearing the habit.82 I would agree with Jordan. The identity of the oesa, the identity of the osa, is the memory of Augustine and the practical living of one’s life in imitation of Augustine and in following the religio Augustini, which is as valid today as it was in 1256 or in 1327. Despite their maligned historical erudition, Jordan and his fellow late medieval Augustinian Hermits Henry of Friemar, Nicholas of Alessandria, and the Anonymous Florentine somehow got it right: the oesa began with Augustine himself, even if Augustine never really appeared to Alexander iv in a vision.83 Memory is a far more important and significant social factor than is “historical fact.” Memory gives us our sense of meaning and our identity. The Augustinian memory provides the continuity of the true sons of Augustine of the past and of the present, which cannot be embodied in juridical forms, at least not completely. There was no single origin or foundation of the oesa. Licet Ecclesiae remains a milestone, and is worthily celebrated and remembered, as is Veneranda sanctorum. What makes the order the Order, so to speak, is not, however, a papal bull, but the religio Augustini, the memory of Augustine, which must ever be renewed and kept alive. The past must not be relegated to the past, but made ever present. If we can say that Licet Ecclesiae provided the oesa with its juridical origins, even with the acknowledgment of the use of the title four years previous, the importance of the “Little Union,” and the entire development from 1187, it was only with Veneranda sanctorum and its aftermath that the juridical form was joined with the identity of being a member of Augustine’s Order whereby the order of St. Augustine, as a way of life, finally became embodied in the Order of Hermits of St. Augustine as a corporation with a legal status and a group identity, the “thing” itself. The name as such preceded the Great Union, though the naming would be given form and content only over time. To be an Augustinian, one must follow Augustine. This the early fourteenth-​century sons of Augustine knew well, and it is a truth that 80

Cf. Kaspar Elm, “Verfall und Erneuerung dees Ordenswesens im Spätmittelalter,” in Untersuchungen zu Kloster und Stift, Veröfftentlichungen des Max-​Planck-​Instituts für Geschichte 68 (Göttingen, 1980), 188–​238. 81 See Saak, Creating Augustine, ch. 5. 82 Saak, High Way to Heaven, 267–​286. 83 Ibid., 216–​217.

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is as true of the past as it is of the present. Augustine remains, even today, the founder and origin of the osa. 2

The Daily Life of the Augustinians

If being an Augustinian was the imitation of Augustine in the context of the oesa, how was that expressed? What did it mean to live as an Augustinian? The habit, after all, does not make the monk. This common medieval proverb posed the major dilemma facing the Augustinian Hermits in the later Middle Ages. In so many ways, the habit did make the monk, at least with respect to the hermits’ attempts to differentiate their way of life from that of the Augustinian Canons, Franciscans, and other religious in the thirteenth and on into the early fourteenth century as the hermits were forging their Order’s own identity.84 As Henry of Friemar argued in 1334, only the oesa wore the habit of St. Augustine, which was a mark of distinction and proof of the Order’s original Augustinian origins.85 Yet wearing the habit in and of itself did not make one an Augustinian, as the Augustinian lector in Strassburg, John of Basel, inquired of his older confrère, Jordan of Quedlinburg. John asked Brother Jordan what did in fact make one an Augustinian and how was one to know if one truly was one or not? Jordan replied to Brother John’s question with his Liber Vitasfratrum, sent to the Order’s Prior General, Gregory of Rimini, in 1358, though Gregory died before having the opportunity to approve, or correct, Jordan’s work.86 Jordan’s Liber Vitasfratrum, nevertheless, became the unofficial handbook for the Order, and may have been required reading for novices through the early sixteenth century, replacing Hugh of St. Victor’s commentary on the Rule as the reading at table in 1571.87 The Liber Vitasfratrum is an extensive commentary of sorts on the Order’s Rule and Constitutions, designed, as Jordan put it, as a mirror, so that anyone reading it could compare it with his own life and know 84 Saak, Creating Augustine,74; see also Andrew Jotischky, The Carmelites and Antiquity. Mendicants and their Pasts in the Middle Ages, Oxford 2002, ch. 2: “Identity and Antiquity: The Carmelite Habit,” pp. 45–​78. 85 “Tertio, hoc idem patet sic: Qoud enim ordo fratrum eremitarum sancti Augustini et fratres illius ordinis sint veri et proprii filii beati Augustini et ipse sit eorum verus pater, ex hoc patet, quod eorum habitum in eremo portavit et eis regulam vivendi tradidit.” Hen.Fr. Tract. (99). 86 “Spiritualis pulchritudinis vere amatori, in Christo alteri sibi fratri, Johanni Ordinis Fratrum Eremitarum Sancti Augustini, lectori in Argentina, frater Jordanus, inter eiusdem Ordinis lectores minimus.” Jor. vf, Epistola ad Johannem Lectorem in Argentina (1). 87 Jor. vf, “Introduction,” lxxi-​lxxii.

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whether he was indeed a true son of Augustine.88 The Liber Vitasfratrum is not as such a reflection of the Order’s day to day life in the practical details, but it does come as close as we have to revealing what it was like, or was supposed to be like, to live as an Augustinian, day in and day out, in the fourteenth century. Precept, however, did not always harmonize with practice, as the registers of the priors general make abundantly clear. As Prior General from 1357–​1358, Gregory of Rimini, perhaps the most outstanding Augustinian theologian of the later Middle Ages, had to deal with very mundane matters, such as brothers physically fighting and doing bodily harm; dispensing old and blind brothers from saying Mass; a brother who had left the order to move in with a local woman, with whom he had a couple of children, before petitioning to be readmitted; brothers gambling; brothers committing “unspeakable acts” with local boys, and brothers dealing in pigs, goats, and horses.89 Gregory had his work cut out for him, and thus he sent a circular to the entire Order, his Ordinationes, in attempt to enforce correct religious observance, and to ensure everyone knew what that entailed.90 Even the Order’s masters of theology and lectors were not exempt, for Gregory extolled them as examples, and punishments were prescribed for those negligent of their obligations to adhere to the common life.91 Such admonitions and exhortations were required, Gregory affirmed, because everywhere he looked he saw brothers eager for the secular life and worldly delights and thus the “way of religion” was lost.92 Gregory sought to call his brothers back to the way of religion, to follow the genuine religion of Augustine,93 which was based on the vita communis. To bring his brothers back to regular observance, Gregory highlighted four major issues in his Ordinationes. First, the Divine Office must be celebrated without exception, and by all.94 Second, no brother was to eat or have leisure time outside the monastery more than three times a week, and for each and every time, one must receive the explicit permission of the prior.95 Third, 88

“Quod quidem opusculum Vitasfratrum idcirco appellaverim, tum quia in eo vita fratrum describitur, tum quia eius lectione frater quilibet, an sit verus filius Patris nostri sanctissimi Augustini ac per hoc verus frater Ordinis sui, ex vita propria sua cognoscere valebit supererogationis operibus plurifariis in eodem contentis nihilominus circumpscriptis.” Jor. vf, Epistola (2,20–​25). 89 Saak, High Way to Heaven, 315–​344. 90 For the text of Gregory’s Ordinationes, see Saak, High Way to Heaven, 812–​815. 91 Gregory of Rimini, Ordinationes (Saak, High Way to Heaven, 812,30–​813,56. 92 Ibid., 812,14–​19. 93 For “Augustine’s religion,” the religio Augustini, see Saak, Creating Augustine, 195–​221. 94 Gregory of Rimini, Ordinationes, (Saak, High Way to Heaven, 812,30–​813,56). 95 Ibid., 813,57–​65.

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except for the sick and infirm, no brother was to have feather mattrasses or linen sheets.96 And fourth, no brother was to have money exceeding the two florins allowed for daily expenses, and no brother was to have silver goblets or tableware.97 There were serious punishments for infractions of each of these points, and Gregory was extremely clear that it was the responsibility of the provincial priors to enforce his stipulations, and if they failed do to so, they would be removed from office.98 The vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience were behind Gregory’s Ordinationes, and his regulations were to ensure, to the extent possible, that the brothers would indeed fulfill their vows. Assuring the common life and regular observance was Gregory’s primary concern, as it had been already with Giles of Rome and his Generalate from 1292–​1294. Shortly after assuming the leadership of his Order, Giles sent a letter to the entire Order, in which he stressed that every province was to have a copy of the Order’s Rule and Constitutions, and the common life was to be rigorously observed, including celebration of the Divine Office.99 Regular observance was the key, which Gregory was still striving to enforce sixty years later. While Giles did refer to the regular observance (regularis observantia), Gregory made it the foundation of his efforts, whereby in so many ways, Gregory was the father of the Augustinian Observance, even before Lecceto received permission to follow regular observance independently of the provincial prior in 1387.100 Gregory’s admonitions, however, must have had an impact, for before the administrative institution of the observance, an Augustinian friar from Naples, Antonius Rampegolus, asserted in 1354 in his Figure Bibliorum, a handbook for preachers, that the disobedient and lax brothers should be kept ­separate from the truly religious,101 a separation that would then be institutionalized thirty years later in Lecceto.

96 Ibid., 813,66–​79. 97 Ibid., 814,91–​128. 98 Ibid., 813,80–​90. 99 Saak, High Way to Heaven, 21–​23. 100 Katherine Walsh, “Papal Policy and Local Reform: A) The Beginnings of the Augustinian Observance in Tuscany, B) Congregatio Ilicetana: The Augustinian Observant Movement in Tuscany and the Humanist Ideal,” Römische Historische Mitteilungen 21 (1979), 35–​57; 22 (1980), 105–​145. 101 “Sed nota quod animalia munda ab immundis segregantur, quia in religione debent pravi et discoli a pacificis et devotis fratribus separari, debunt enim deici et deprimi ponendo inferius per debitam correctionem ne sua contagione pestifera plurimos perdant.” Antonius Rampegolus, Figure Bibliorum, Uppsala, Universitetsbibliothek ms C 162, fol. 109rb. For Rampegolus, see Saak, High Way to Heaven, 529–​535, 594–​618.

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The Observance, however, did little to ameliorate religious observance within the Order, at least as evidenced by the register of Prior General Giles of Viterbo (1506–​1519).102 Giles spent his entire time as Prior General fighting for reformation, and the situation was dire indeed. On 21 August 1508, Giles wrote to all the provinces because the Order itself was at stake: We are resolved, then, to try every approach, and attempt whatever is within our power, to avert a death which would be both yours and ours. What moves us to this resolution? The dishonor done to religious life and to our holy father Augustine moves us, for the misdeeds of an army are always attributed to its leader and commander, and a ruler who fails to correct the sins of evil men in his city is himself suspect of sin and evil-​ doing. We are moved too by public opinion, which thinks and speaks of us as the most degraded of men. The frequent quarrels between priests of our Order move us also, quarrels which spring from one source alone—​ our willingness to condone claims to private property in defiance of our law … Another sight which moves us is the wretched poverty of the monasteries … When each person looks after his own interests he neglects the common good; exclusive concentration on one’s own affairs always tends to the detriment of the public weal. Finally it is the decline of sacred studies and the arts which moves us … Such, then, are our motives … With the Lord’s help we shall expend all our labor, zeal, and loving care to bring this about. Calling God to witness, therefore, together with the Blessed Virgin, our holy father Augustine, all the angels and saints and all humankind, we command you, the prior, in virtue of holy obedience, on pain of being adjudged a rebel and deprived of your office, that in this your monastery or province you establish the common life in such a way that, as ordained in the Rule, nothing whatever shall be called anyone’s own, but everything held in common among you. To the brethren, of whatever rank or status, we command, under the same penalties and also on pain of being stripped of their degree, that as soon as they have heard our injunction in this present letter and the command of our father Augustine, they give up everything and within the space of three days free themselves for the unconditional observance of the three vows … If

102 See Saak, Luther and the Reformation of the Later Middle Ages, 73–​83. For the German Augustinian Observance, see the outstanding study by Wolfgang Günter, Reform und Reformation. Geschichte der deutschen Reformkongregation der Augustinereremiten (143201539), Reformationsgeschichtliche Studien und Texte 168 (Ashendorf, 2018).

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there be any who will not listen, we shall not tolerate them; but we shall embrace as sons and brothers those who obey.103 In an undated letter, Giles detailed what he meant by reformation in eight points: 1. Celebration of the Divine Office; 2. Observance of silence; 3. Proper care for one’s habit; 4. Proper use of acquired goods; 5. The required confirmation of the prior general for the title of master or bachelor of theoloy; 6. That no one in the Order should associate with people suspected of doing evil; 7. That no one be ordained as priest without having reached the required age; and 8. That each month provincial priors were to send a report to Giles on the state of reformation.104 Such stipulations were needed, for Giles—​much like Gregory before him, a copy of whose Register Giles had requested—​had to deal with brothers having committed murder and theft as well as living lives that at times required the help of the secular arm, which Giles approved.105 Giles himself worked unceasingly to bring about reformation, travelling extensively to visit monasteries and to preach,106 as had Gregory before him. As prior general, Gregory was often in transit, visiting as many of his Order’s provinces as he could. Indeed, Gregory was only in Rome from 22 February 1358 to 28 March. In September of 1357, Gregory was in Florence, before moving on to Siena in October, and then by 26 October, Gregory had moved to Perugia for ten days, and then on to Foligno, Nursia, Aquila, and Naples, before then heading back north to Rome, and then spent the summer of 1358 in his home town of Rimini. In September, he continued on to Florence and then made his trek north of the Alps, arriving in Vienna in November of 1358. It his last stop. Gregory died and was buried in Vienna.107 Giles kept to a similar regimen, and with good reason. The situation was dire. Brothers were not living as they were instructed to live; they were not observing the Order’s Rule and Constitutions, nor following Augustine’s religion.108 This was the situation facing the Order in the early sixteenth century much the same as it was almost two hundred years previously, even before the Observance was institutionalized. 103 Giles of Viterbo, Circular Letter to the Provinces of the Order on the Common Life, in Aegidii Viterbiensis Registrum Generalatus, 1506–​1518, 2 vols., ed. Albericus de Meijer, Registra Priorum Generalium 18, Rome 1984, n. 156, pp. 267–​269; 268,3–​269,60; hereafter cited as Aeg. Vit. Reg.; as translated in Francis X. Martin, Friar, Reformer, and Renaissance Scholar. Life and Works of Giles of Viterbo, 1469–​1532, (Villanova 1992), 384–​385. 104 Aeg. Vit. Reg. n. 163,275,2–​276,60. 105 Saak, Luther, 78–​79. 106 Ibid.,75–​76. 107 Saak, High Way to Heaven, 320–​342. 108 Saak, Luther, 73–​83.

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While Giles’ Register, as Gregory’s before him, gives ample evidence of the distinction between the Augustinians’ precepts of how one should live, and the actual lives of Augustinian hermits, it should be noted that the cases that make an appearance in the Registers of the Priors General focus, by and large, on the deviants, those problematic friars, whose cases required attention. The vast majority of Augustinians in the later Middle Ages, we can assume, while most likely not perfect exemplars, were nevertheless devout brothers who strove to live up to the ideals, who strove to present themselves truly as Augustinians, even if imperfectly. Goffman’s dramaturgical theory of society is most fitting here, whereby the Augustinians were concerned with their appearance, how they presented themselves in society, both within and beyond the cloister’s walls, and how they strove to do so in keeping with the ideals, ideals as expressed in Jordan’s Liber Vitasfratrum.109 This is what gave the Augustinians their identity. The everyday social life of the hermits created the reality of being an Augustinian.110 In this light, the habit did indeed make the monk, demarcating Augustine’s true sons and heirs from all other religious. It did so, though, to the extent that one lived up to the ideals of the imitation of their father, teacher, leader, and head, Augustine himself.111 Sons have always had difficulties living up to the ideals of their fathers, and for the hermits, Augustine was indeed their father, to the extent that by putting on the habit, as Luther vowed in 1506, one became a “new man” in Christ, whose father Augustine truly was, or was intended to be.112 Magnus pater Augustinus began the hymn to Augustine sung during every hermits’ ritual of initiation.113 Yet the late medieval hermits, no less than sons today, were still just regular people, with hopes, fears, and embarrassments, striving not to get caught in their naughtiness, while still craving, seeking, and needing paternal approval and acceptance, based on the ideals, created or imposed, that their father represented, striving to present themselves as such, even if “backstage” they themselves knew better. This was the reality of the late medieval Augustinians; this was the reality of 1 09 Erving Goffmann, The Presentation of Self in Everyday Life, New York 1959. 110 Peter L. Berger and Thomas Luckmann, The Social Construction of Reality. A Treatise in the Sociology of Knowledge (New York 1966); Saak, Creating Augustine, 222–​228. 111 Saak, High Way to Heaven, 160–​175. The designation of Augustine as the Order’s father, teacher, leader, and head first appeared in the bull of Pope John xxii, Veneranda sanctorum, of 20 January 1327 in which he granted the oesa joint custody of Augustine’s tomb and relics in Pavia. It shortly thereafter was frequently used by members of the oesa. For the text of Pope John xxii’s bull, see Saak, High Way, 160, n. 1. Augustine as the Order’s father, however, was a long-​standing tradition, predating the pope’s bull. 112 Saak, High Way to Heaven, 630–​637. 113 Ibid., 631–​636; 141.

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the everyday life of Augustine’s true sons; and this was the reality that comprised a genuine and historical late medieval Augustinianism.114 Yet all they had to go on was Augustine’s Rule and the Order’s Constitutions. Augustine himself was no longer there to offer the paternal affirmation. Affirmation or rebuke was left to the priors general, and by way of extension, the provincial and local priors and vicars. Insecurity of knowing whether one was or was not a true son of his father Augustine was only to be expected, especially since Augustine was a hard act to follow. No wonder Brother John sought confirmation from Brother Jordan, and Brother Jordan paternally replied. We have his answer: his Liber Vitasfratrum. Jordan’s Liber Vitasfratrum consists of four parts. The first treats the origins and development of monastic life; the second concerns the central dictum of Augustine’s Rule, namely, living with one heart and one soul in God; the third part then treats apostolic poverty and how it relates to Augustine’s hermits; and then finally the fourth part deals with the issue of equality among the brothers treating both distributive and commutative equality, whereby treating everyone equally is not equated with treating everyone the same.115 Yet what is clear, and what Jordan stressed over and over again, is that the foundation of the Augustinians’ daily life was striving to live according to the principles of Augustine’s Rule, truly to live the common life with one heart and soul in God, which comprised following Augustine’s religion (religio Augustini).116 In his Collectanea Sancti Augustini, presented to the Parisian cloister of the oesa in 1343 when Jordan made an official visitation, Jordan had included three distinct Rules of Augustine,117 all three of which he referenced as authoritative in his Liber Vitasfratrum, though he argued that Augustine was not the author of the Decretum de Observantia Regularis.118 The Decretum, also known 1 14 Cf. Saak, Creating Augustine. 115 “Aequalitas secundum eandem quantitatem attenditur in iustitia commutativa, in qua fit comparatio rei ad rem. Aequalitas secundum quondam proportionem attenditur in iustitia distributiva, in qua fit proportio rerum ad personas et earum conditions. Si enim personae non sunt aequales, et hoc secundum valorem dignitatis et utilitatis rei publicae … ita etiam res, quae datur uni personae, excedit eam, quae datur alteri.” Jor. vf 4,1 (392,24–​393,33). 116 See Saak, Creating Augustine, 195–​221. 117 Jordanus de Quedlinburg, Collectanea Sancti Augustini, Paris, Bibliothèque de l’Arsenal ms 251; hereafter cited as: Jor. Coll. 118 Jor. vf 2,14, 165–​172. Jordan’s view of the Decretum not being authentic, and perhaps, he suggested, was authored by St. Basil, seems to have been a position he came to rather late. The text of the vf exists in two families of manuscripts. The German family evidences Jordan’s new position, while the Italian family of manuscripts maintains Augustine as the author; Jor. vf, “Introduction,” lxxvi-​lxxix.

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as the Regula Consensoria, is not as such a Rule as much as it is a series of precepts concerning communal property and maintaining concord among the brothers.119 These precepts harmonize with the two other Rules Jordan referenced, the Regula Prima and the Regula Secunda, the latter of which is, since the work of Luc Verhijen, largely considered to have been the genuine Rule of St. Augustine, known as well as the Preceptum.120 In the Regula Prima we find the prescriptions for celebrating the canonical hours. At Matins, psalms sixty-​two, sixty-​five, and eighty-​nine; at Terce, first a psalm was read responsorily, followed by two antiphons, a reading and the responsory, which was the prescribed rubric as well for Sext and None. For Vespers, one psalm was read responsorily, followed by four antiphons, then another responsorial psalm, a reading and the responsory. At Compline, with all brothers sitting, readings were read, and then customary psalms were said before bed. For the nighttime hours during the months of November, December, January, and February, twelve antiphons, six psalms, and three readings were prescribed; for March, April, September and October, ten antiphons, five psalms, and three readings; for May, June, July and August, eight antiphons, four psalms, and three readings.121 Brothers were to work from Matins until Sext, and then from Sext to None, they were to spend time studying the Scriptures, after which they could relax in

1 19 For the text of the Decretum, see Jor. vf, Appendix A, 485–​488. 120 Luc Verheijen, La Règle de saint Augustin. Verheijen has given us the authoritative critical edition of the texts, and argued that the Preceptum was authentic, though some of his findings have recently been questioned; see Conrad Leyser, “Augustine in the Latin West, 430-​c. 900,” in Mark Vessey, ed., A Companion to Augustine (2012), 450–​464; 460–​464. I will be citing from the editions of the Decretum, Regula Prima, and Regula Secunda as presented in the appendices of the edition of the Liber Vitasfratrum, which were based on Jordan’s Collectanea together with other late medieval manuscripts. The point of doing so is to cite the text most likely to have been the text Jordan and his brothers knew, rather than the most authentic late antique text. 121 “Qualiter autem oportet nos orare vel psallere describimus; id est, in Matutinis dicantur psalmi tres: sexagesimus secundus, quintus et octogesimus nonus; ad Tertiam prius psalmus ad respondendum dicatur, deinde antiphonae duae, lectio et completorium; simili modo Sexta et Nona; ad lucernarium autem psalmus responsorius unus, antiphonae quattuor, item psalmus unus responsorius, lectio et completorium. Et tempore oportuno post lucernarium, omnibus sedentibus, legantur lectiones; post haec autem consuetudinarii psalmi ante somnum dicantur. Nocutrnae autem orationes mense novembri, decembri, ianuario et februario antiphonae duodecim, psalmi sex, lectiones tres; martio, aprili, septembri et octobri antiphonae decem, psalmi quinque, lectiones tres; maio, iunio, iulio et augusto antiphonae octo, psalmi quattuor, lectiones duae.” Jor. vf, Appendix B, Regula Prima 2, 491,6–​18.

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the garden or wherever might best suit them until Vespers.122 As Jordan noted, however, according to the modern Order (status modernus Ordinis), the hours of reading or study, and the hours during which the library would be open, was at the discretion of the prior.123 Seven times a day the late medieval Augustinian hermits were to gather in chapel to celebrate the Divine Office. The lay brothers and illiterati, who did not know how to sing the chants, were to say Pater Nosters.124 Meal times were strictly regulated, and during meals, a lector would read from the scripture and the brothers, rather than having social time, were to meditate on the text being read.125 Leaving the monastery was only allowed based on need, and then brothers should only do so with the permission of the prior, and were to go out at least in pairs; no brother, except in cases of necessity, was to eat outside the monastery.126 In short, whether one was a lay brother, a fully professed Augustinian Hermit, or even one of the Order’s theologians, one’s daily routine was prescribed, for such prescriptions ensured, or were intended to ensure, the common life, that of the lay brothers no less than the priors, vicars, and even prior general. Yet such routine was an ideal, a norm, something to strive for, and doing so was often a challenge, especially for the Order’s administrators. Brother Martin

122 Ibid., Regula Prima 3, 491,19–​492,22. Studying the Scriptures is not as such prescribed by the Regula Prima, which simply refers to “reading.” Jordan cited this section of the Regula Prima in vf 2,22, which treated “Lectio divina or the study of sacred Scriptures,” in which he extolled the importance of the study of Scripture. He did, it seems, include theological study as part of the study of the Scriptures, for it is in this chapter that Jordan treated the outstanding theologians of the Order, beginning with Augustine himself; ibid., 235,69–​242,243. 123 “Hodie tamen secundum statum modernum Ordinis hora legendi et librariam aperiendi moderabitur secunduum arbitrium Superiorum.” Jor. vf 2,22, 233,10–​11. 124 “Fratres vero, qui psallere et cantare aut nesciunt, sicut idiotae et illiterati, aut non possunt, sicut senes et valitudinarii, pro horis suis dicant Pater noster, prout docet Pater noster Augustinus in sermone quodam De oratione ad fratres eremitas …” Jor. vf 2,15, 184,123–​126. 125 “Sedentes ad mensam taceant audientes lectionem.” Jor. vf, Appendix B, Regula Prima 7, 492,29; “Cum acceditis ad mensam, donec inde surgatis, quod vobis consuetudinem legitur, sine tumultu et contentionibus audite, nec solae vobis fauces sumant cibum, sed et aures esuriant Dei verbum.” Jor. vf, Appendix C, Regula Secunda 4, 496,42–​45. 126 “Si opus fuerit ad aliquam necessitatem monasterii mitti, duo eant. Nemo extra monasterium sine praecepto manducet neque bibat, non enim hoc ad disciplinam pertinet monasterii. Si opera monasterii mittantur fratres vendere, sollicite observent, ne quid faciant contra praeceptum, scientes quoniam Deum exacerbant in servis ipsius; sive aliquid emant ad necessitatem monasterii, sollicite et fideliter, ut servi Dei agant. “Jor vf, Appendix B, Regula Prima 8, 492,32–​37.

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Luther, as the district vicar in the Saxon-​Thuringian Province, complained that his days were taken up with administrative duties so that he scarcely had time to say the Divine Office.127 What we find is that in general members of the oesa, from the lay brothers all the way up to the masters of theology, were no more observant in the early sixteenth century than they had been in the early to mid-​fourteenth century, and the observance itself, which according to the new Constitutions for the Observant Congregation of Saxony, issued in 1504 by Johannes von Staupitz “for the Reformation of Germany,” did not impose any new obligations, but simply asserted the need to live truly the religious life as established by Augustine and as prescribed in Augustine’s Rule and the Order’s Constitutions.128 Staupitz, as Giles of Viterbo, strenuously sought to ensure the Order’s vita communis and adherence to Augustine’s religion, as had Gregory of Rimini before him, and even as Giles of Rome had done in the early days of the Order’s emerging identity as the true sons of their father Augustine. For Jordan, the Augustinian’s life consisted of a life of prayer, study, and work, though study and work were a form of prayer when done with the proper perspective and frame of mind, for the Augustinian life was a life lived in constant prayer.129 The common life, as for Giles of Rome, Gregory of Rimini, and Giles of Viterbo, focused on the proper celebration of the Divine Office, care of one’s habit, general silence within the monastery, the common table, personal reflection and prayer, all done with obedience to one’s superiors, in fulfilling one’s vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience. The Order’s Rule and Constitutions were foundational, but Jordan also drew on another source that had almost equal status: Augustine’s sermons to his own hermits, the Sermones ad fratres suos in eremo. The Sermones have long been known to have been spurious. As a collection, they date to the early fourteenth century, though some of the sermons in the collection can be dated to the thirteenth century, with others being sermons of Caesarius of Arles in the sixth century. The collection includes as well two authentic sermons of Augustine, sermons 355 and 356, which also circulated separately in the later Middle Ages under the title De vita et moribus clericorum. There are though several sermons that can be dated to after 1327 and the outbreak of the controversy between the Augustinian Hermits and Augustinian Canons over which order was the original and most authentic order of St. Augustine. The Sermones offered indisputable proof that it was the Hermits. In his Collectanea, Jordan brought together thirty-​three sermons of 1 27 Saak, Luther, 212. 128 Ibid., 69–​72. 129 Saak, High Way to Heaven, 285–​286.

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Augustine, twenty-​three of which he labeled Sermones ad fratres suos in eremo. Jordan’s collection was one of the very earliest, together with the sermons collected by Robert de Bardis, chancellor of Paris, in his Collectorium Sermonum Sancti Augustini, dating to the early-​to mid-​1340s.130 We still do not know who was responsible for the collection, or for the sermons in the collection that can be dated to after 1327. In any case, the collection grew over time, reaching seventy-​five sermons by the later fifteenth century. Though we know today that the Sermones ad fratres in eremo are spurious, for Jordan, they were the authentic words of Augustine himself. Thus in what follows, I will refer to Augustine as the author, and represent the doctrine in the sermons as that of Augustine, presenting the material as Jordan would have understood it. If the words themselves were not originally penned by Augustine, much of the monastic teaching of the sermons is authentically Augustinian. As modern scholars, we need to be careful not to allow our own erudition to hinder our understanding of the Augustines of the past. The pseudo-​Augustine had a major impact on the later Middle Ages which we can easily miss if we dismiss such texts as inauthentic forgeries.131 The Sermones ad fratres suos in eremo had a significant influence in the later Middle Ages as a prescriptive text of the genuine Augustinian monastic life. In the final chapter of Part One of the Liber Vitasfratrum, dealing with the origins and institution of the oesa, Jordan detailed how the material related to the Rule and Constitutions, as he did for every part of his work. Here, in chapter twenty-​one of Part One, Jordan first cited the Rule, and then, before turning to the Constitutions, quoted from Augustine’s sermon on the pearls of the monastic life, which Jordan had included as the first in his collection of Augustine’s Sermones ad fratres suos in eremo as contained in Jordan’s Collectanea: If someone, however, wants to join our congregation from the world, the first thing to be considered is to prove whether his will comes from God. Such an intention ought not to be compelled or coerced; it should not be a whim, but always constant and filled and perfected with the entire

130 See Saak, Creating Augustine, 81–​137; idem, History, Myth, and Ideology I: The Sermons of St. Augustine Collected by Jordan of Quedlinburg, OESA (d. 1380)—​Introduction, Text, and Translation/​Jordani de Quedlinburg Opera Selecta vol. v (forthcoming Leiden, Brill Academic Publishers). 131 See, for example, Saak, “Augustine and Augustinianisms in the Fourteenth Century,” and idem, “In Search of Origins.”

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spirit of charity. Then it will be set forth for him how he is to deny his own will.132 The sermon actually continued with a phrase that Jordan omitted when quoting from it at the end of Part One, for Augustine continued: “and spontaneously follow me.”133 Jordan was very aware that Augustine was, as Jordan himself put it, “the rule and exemplar for all our actions,”134 and this sermon underscores that fact, even if Jordan chose not to emphasize that point at that point in his text. In any case, the first sermon of the collection is a Rule in sermon form. Augustine asserted, based on his love for his brothers, as the father of their souls, his desire to gather [pearls] for your souls to provide not only ornaments but also healing so that neither spot nor wrinkle would appear in you when you stand before the divine judge. Therefore I am eager to mend rips, to patch up tears, to heal wounds, to wash away stains, to repair damage, and to decorate those things that are whole with spiritual pearls.135 The love of God and of neighbor formed the foundation of the common life, which Augustine considered to consist most of all in prayer, study, work, and poverty: In the oratory, no one should do anything that is not proper. The oratory receives its name from prayer, and thus all should remain constant in prayer from matins to the sixth hour, before solemn Mass, and from 132 “Item illud, quod dicit in sermone De margaritis regularis institutionis: ‘Si quis autem de saeculo ad nostrum congregationem venire desiderat, primo praecipio, ut probetur, an voluntas ex Deo sit; non enim debet esse violenta nec coacta, non mobilis, sed sempiterna, virilis, constans et omni spiritu caritatis plena atque perfecta. Tunc ei proponatur, quomodo abnegate propriam voluntatem.” Jor. vf 1,21 (73,9–​14); Cfr. Jor. Coll., sermo 1, Paris, Bibl. De l’Arsenal ms 251, fol. 3rb. 133 “… cum sponte sequatur me.” Jor. Coll., sermo 1, Paris, Bibl. De l’Arsenal ms 251, fol. 3rb; this then echoes the et veni, sequere me of Mk. 10:21. 134 “Sic enim fecit beatissimus Pater noster Augustinus, qui debet esse omnis nostrae actionis exemplar et regula …” Jor. vf 1,11 (36,32–​33). 135 “Quia me putatis patrem esse animarum vestrarum, ideo vos ita componere desidero ut in vobis macula neque ruga possit ante tribunal iudicis apparere, animabus enim vestris non solum ornamenta sed medicamenta desidero providere. Studeo enim dissuta consuere, conscissa sarcire, vulnerata cruare, abluere sordida, reparare perdita, et ea que sunt integra spiritualibus margaritis ornare.” Jor. Coll., sermo 1, Paris, Bibl. De l’Arsenal ms 251, fol. 3ra.

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the sixth hour until the ninth hour, all should spend their time studying and praying the Our Father. At the ninth hour though all should return their books and in keeping with their physical condition, without complaining refresh themselves by listening to the Word of God. After they have rested, they should work either in the garden or in the hermitage, or wherever they are needed, for simply doing nothing is dangerous for servants of God. Those, however, who do not have liturgical duties are to work in the name of the Lord until darkness falls. No one, though, is to assume anything from his own work as his own, for we have dedicated ourselves to live the apostolic life. If anyone does do so, he will be condemned by the judgment of theft, and if he is corrupt and refuses to emend his life, he is to be thrown out of your society. This is though not done to be cruel, but rather merciful, lest he would infect many of you with his diseased contagion.136 Augustine was likewise concerned to protect brothers from worldly temptations. Thus he exhorted that brothers should only go out from the monastery in groups of two or three, and be careful to avoid looking at women. Moreover, brothers should not eat outside the monastery, except, as necessity might demand, bread and water, and should only eat within the monastery at prescribed times.137 He was not harsh in his admonitions and regulations, but he was firm, and this is what Jordan wanted to convey as well to his brothers. Jordan cited this sermon in his Liber Vitasfratrum more often than any other sermon in the collection, with the only exception being sermon twenty-​one, 136 “In oratorio nemo aliquid agat, nisi ad quod factum est, unde et nomen accepit. Orationibus instate a mane usque ad sextam tantum circa missarum sollemnia, et a sexta usque ad nonam omnes vacent lectionibus et pater noster. Ad nonam vero reddant codices et secundum nature conditionem sine tumultu reficiantur audientes dei verbum. Postquam autem refecerint sive in orto sive in eremo vel ubicumque necesse fuerint operentur. Nil enim dei servis otiositate peius. Operentur ergo in nomine domini ordinem sacrum non habentes usque ad horam lucernarii. Nemo tamen ex opere suo aliquid sibi appropriet, apostolica enim vita optamus vivere. Si quis autem contra fecerit, furti iudicio condemnetur, et si correptus non emendaverit de vestra societate proiciatur. Non enim hoc fit crudeliter sed misericorditer ne contagione pestifera plurimos ex vobis perdat.” Jor. Coll., sermo 1, Paris, Bibl. De l’Arsenal ms 251, fol. 3rb-​3va. 137 “Quando necesse erit ut aliqui aliud seculum vadant, caveant ne vadant minus quam duo vel tres. Et si oculi servorum dei iaciantur in aliquam feminarum, cavete ne in illam figantur. Deus enim qui habitat in vobis etiam isto modo custodiet vos ex vobis. Nemo cum secularibus extra monasterium manducare nisi panem vel bibere nisi aquam presumat, vel etiam intus manducare extra horam prandii, nisi casus infirmitatis acciderit.” Jor. Coll., sermo 1, Paris, Bibl. De l’Arsenal ms 251, fol. 3va.

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one of the sermons that could only have been written after 1327 and gave clear evidence that Augustine had founded his Hermits before his Canons, a conflict between the two orders that had broken out in 1327 and continued on for the rest of the Middle Ages.138 The debate was still very prevalent when Jordan composed his Liber Vitasfratrum, as was the mid-​fourteenth-​century poverty controversy, arising from the challenge of Richard FitzRalph, Archbishop of Armaugh, who sought to do away with the mendicant orders all together.139 The Augustinian Hermits needed to get their act together if they were going to survive and thrive, and returning to the foundation of the Order, Augustine’s religion and Augustine’s monastic life itself, was the primary means of doing so. As Gregory of Rimini knew all too well, if the oesa was going to respond to the challenges it faced to its very legitimacy, it had to focus on the regular observance, the basic principles as established by Augustine himself. This was a reformation not in terms of seeking to return to a mythic golden age, but one based on a return to the basics, to the foundational principles of Augustine’s religion.140 If the Order was to do so, if the Order was to effect a reformation and be truly observant of the Rule, the brothers of the Order had to be brought back to obedience, they had to fulfill that vow first and foremost, for if they did do so, poverty and chastity would follow. Jordan saw obedience as the key factor as well. The vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, Jordan actually treated in reverse order in his Liber Vitasfratrum. After treating the origins and institution of the oesa in the first Part, in Part Two Jordan turned to explicating the Rule’s central dictum of having one heart and soul in God, which combined to form the Augustinians’ unified form of life (una vivendi forma). The heart for Jordan was related to the vow of obedience, whereas the soul was related to the vow of chastity, and thus Jordan treated chastity in the second part of Part Two, for “just as obedience is the virtue that is the regulative force of the superior appetite, namely, of the will, which is understood by ‘heart’, as was stated above, so is chastity the regulative force of the inferior appetite, which is interpreted as ‘soul’.”141 Obedience was so important for Jordan because we cannot know on our own what God wills for us, and therefore “we commit ourselves to our superior, so that he might rule us and we give him our hand 1 38 See Saak, High Way to Heaven, 163–​174. 139 Saak, High Way to Heaven, 269–​272. 140 Saak, Luther, 12 and 349–​375. 141 “Rursus sicut oboedientia est virtus cohibitiva appetitus superioris, scilicet voluntatis, qui per cor intelligitur, ut supra dictum est, sic castitas est virtus cohibitiva appetitus inferioris, qui per animam intelligitur.” Jor. vf 2,28,(ed. 267,13–​16).

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in our profession, so that he might lead us in the path of God.”142 Jordan began his treatment of obedience by citing Augustine’s sermon on obedience, claiming that “nothing so pleases God in religion as does obedience, for one act of obedience is worth more than all the virtues”143 This sermon was one of three sermons of Augustine on obedience Jordan included in his Collectanea, two of which were in the series Sermones ad fratres suos in eremo, and the other in the series Sermones ad presbyteros. Sermon twenty-​three, which Jordan cited here, is one of the sermons that give proof of the hermits as having been Augustine’s original monastic group. Jordan, though, cut and pasted a bit in his citation. The full passage places obedience as the guard against pride, which God hates most of all: Nothing so pleases God, my dearest brothers, as obedience … I say this therefore because it is not for sons to judge their fathers. No one goes to a teacher to teach him their own learning. You have come to me so that I might teach you letters. If I were to write to you and say to you, “Write as I write,” you certainly ought to imitate that because you have chosen the teacher from whom you will learn and you go to a teacher who is a greater expert than are you. Why do I say this? I say this so that we might show obedience towards our fathers. Who is not obedient to the fathers, does not obey God, for the Lord said, “Who spurns you, spurns me.” [Lk 10:16] Who spurns the apostles, spurns Christ; who spurns the fathers, spurns Christ, because Christ is in the fathers. I say this because in you obedience is the highest and single most important virtue. If you fast and pray day and night in sackcloth and ashes, if you do nothing other than what is commanded in the law, and you see yourself as wise on that account and are not obedient to your father, you will have lost all virtues. One act of obedience is worth more than all the virtues, for fasting or continence, unless you are careful, will make you proud. Pride, though, is the enemy of God; God hates nothing more than pride. Whoever does not obey, acts not based on holiness, but out of pride.144 142 “Unde et oboedientiam profitemur; quia enim non confidimus nobis ipsis, ut praesumamus nos scire, quod Dominus velit a nobis, ideo commissimus nos Superiori nostro, ut ipse nos regat, et dedimus sibi manum nostrum in professione, ut ipse nos ducat in viam Dei.” Jor. vf 2,2 (ed. 80,51–​55). 143 “Quae bene dicitur [obedientia] prima, quia, sicut Augustinus in quodam sermone, ‘nihl sic Deo placet in Religioso quemadmodum oboedientia’; nam una oboedientia plus valet quam omnes virtutes.” Jor. vf 2,2 (ed. 78,3–​6). 144 “Nichil sic deo placet fratres karissimi quodadmodum obedientia … Hec itaque dico, non est filiorum iudicare de patribus. Nemo vadit ad magristrum ut doceat didascalum suum.

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Jordan then drove the point home in his Liber Vitasfratrum with exempla, including one about a certain brother who used to leave the monastery under the pretext of required business, thus deceiving his prior to receive permission. One day on his journey, he came across a man possessed by a demon, who begged him to cast the demon out of him. The brother wanted to oblige, and so in the name of holy obedience, he commanded the demon to leave the man. The demon, however, replied: “Why do you think you can command me to be obedient when you yourself have never been truly obedient?” If he had indeed been obedient to his prior, Jordan affirmed, he surely would have been able to cast out the demon. He had not been, and left ashamed.145 Obedience, however, had to be genuine. It could not be feigned, but must be practiced with discretion, honesty, justice, and humility, as Augustine affirmed in the sixth sermon of the Sermones ad fratres suos in eremo of Jordan’s Collectanea. True obedience preserves harmony amongst the angels, fosters peace among monastics, and brings forth tranquility in cities. Indeed states are not able to stand without obedience, and what is contrary to obedience is such a vice that Venisti ad me ut docerem te litteras. Si tibi scripsero et dixero tibi, ‘Scribe quomodo ego scribo,’ utique imitari debes quid magistrum elegisti ab aliquo doctus es et vadis ad peritiorem magistrum. Hoc totum quare dico? Ut exhibeamus obedientiam in patres nostros. Qui patribus non obsequitur, deo non obsequitur. Dicit enim dominus, ‘Qui vos contempnit, me contempnit’. Qui contempnunt apostolos, contempnunt Christum; qui contempnunt patres, contempnunt Christum, quia in patribus Christus est. Hoc dico, quia hec in vobis summa et sola virtus est obedientie. Si ieiunaveris diebus et noctibus orationem que feceris, si in sacco fueris vel cinere, si nihil aliud feceris nisi quod preceptum est in lege et fueris tibi visus quasi sapiens et obediens patri non fueris, omnes virtutes perdidisti. Una obedientia plus valet quam omnes virtutes; ieiunium vel continentia, nisi diligenter attenderis superbiam tibi facit. Superbia autem inimica est deo; nihil odio sic habet deus, quomodo superbiam. Quicumque non obedit, non facit de sanctitate sed de superbia.” Jor. Coll., sermo 23, Paris, Bib. De l’Arsenal ms 251, fol. 29rb-​va. 145 “Quidam frater, solitus saepe discurrere ad civitatem, restrictus est a Priore suo, ita quod non nisi in casu necessitatis deberet exire conventum. Sed iste tot causas necessitatis finxit, nunc praetendendo se vocatum ad infirmum, nunc ire ad emendum pergamenum, nunc candelas, nunc haec, nunc illa, quae videbantur necessaria et proficua. Sed sub chlamide talis licentiae ivit ad loca alia sibi placita et sic illusit Priori; numquam tamen sine licentia ivit. Hic frater quadam die transiens per locum, ubi erat homo arreptus a daemone, qui graviter torquebatur, rogatus ab incolis loci, ut accederet et per coniurationes et orationes suas daemonem expelleret, non valens resistere petentibus, venit ad illum. Et cum legisset initium sancti Evangelii secundum Johannem et alia, quae sibi legenda videbantur, subiunxit: ‘Praecipio tib in virtute sanctae oboedientiae, ut exeas vasculum istud.’ Tunc daemon de corpore obsesso respondit: ‘Quid tu habes mihi praecipere in virtute sanctae oboedientiae, qui numquam verus oboediens fuisti?’ Quod ille audiens verecundatus et confusus abscessit. Quod si iste frater fuisset vere oboediens Superioribus suis, certe iam daemonium illud oboedisset ei …” Jor. vf 2,2 (ed. 83,125–​142).

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it was the cause of the devil’s fall from heaven and humans’ being expelled from paradise.146 Yet the true sons of Augustine had a guide for how to live even beyond the text of the Rule and Constitutions, namely, their father, Augustine himself. Augustine, in Jordan’s view, had asserted his own authority over his original hermits and priests, for as he argued in the first of the Sermones ad Presbyteros of Jordan’s Collectanea: Therefore be faithful, and I will give you the crown of life. Do not resist me, but be obedient to your death. Do not resist me because all power is from God, and who resists the powers that be, resist God. I did not however come to you so that I might exercise power over you, but only so that I might live with you my brothers in solitude. And look at me now, a bishop, and as such I am not embarrassed to be poor. Why not? Because I promised to be poor. Take care, therefore, that you do not leave poverty behind; if you want to be poor with me, take heed that you are not captured by riches. My will was always that we would be poor together in every way, because if we did not have the true desire to be poor, the will to be poor which we cultivate externally would not be poverty, but would be considered as a great misery. Do not, therefore, resist me, because all power is from God.147 The Sermones ad fratres suos in eremo, which later, as the collection grew over time, included all the sermons of St. Augustine Jordan collected in his 146 “Obediencia igitur fratres, tunc vera, tunc sancta, tunc meritoria est, quando ditata est discrecione, honestate et iusticia, et humilitate. Iste enim sunt socie sancte obediencie sine quibus omnis obediencia vana est et inutilis. Hec est illa obediencia que concordiam conservat in angelis, pacem nutrit in monachis tranquillitatem generat in civibus. Hec est illa obediencia sine qua res publica stare non potest, sine qua familia aliqua regi non potest. O quam enorme vicium, quod obediencie contrarium fuit, per hoc dyabolus celum perdidit, per hoc homo paradysum amisit.” Jor. Coll., sermo 6, Paris, Bib. De l’Arsenal ms 251, fol. 9vb. 147 “Igitur esto fidelis et dabo tibi coronam vite. Noli mihi resistere sed esto usque ad mortem obediens. Noli mihi resistere quia omnis potestas a deo est et qui potestati resistit, deo resistit. Non tamen veni ut potestatem haberem super vos, sed tantum ut cum fratribus meis in solitudine viverem. Et ecce nunc episcopus sum et me pauperem esse non erubesco. Quare? Quia paupertatem promisi. Cavete igitur ne pauperem relinquatis, pauperes mecum esse voluistis, cavete ne a divitiis capiamini. Voluntas mea fuit ut semper toto affectu pauperes simus. Quod et si non fuerimus, hec voluntas quam foris gerimus non paupertas sed grandis miseria existimanda est. Nolite ergo mihi resistere, quia omnis potestas a deo est.” Jor. Coll., sermo 1 ad Presbyteros, Paris, Bib. De l’Arsenal ms 251, fol. 31va.

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Collectanea, including those explicitly labeled by Jordan as Sermones ad Presbyteros, was not an obscure text. Kaspar Elm argued that the collection, based on the extant manuscripts, had a greater impact than did even Augustine’s Rule, with at least 424 extant manuscripts as compared to 274 manuscripts based on Verheijen’s list.148 They functioned indeed as a Rule of sorts of the Augustinian monastic life, or perhaps as a supplement to the Rule, treating such themes, in addition to obedience, as peace, silence, prudence, mercy, perseverance, purity of conscience and hope, humility, fortitude, justice, the dangers of anger and hate, the wisdom of the world, envy, discontent, and poverty.149 In his Liber Vitasfratrum, Jordan cited, in addition to the sermons in his Collectanea, three other sermons of Augustine to his hermits, numbered in the Maurist and Migne editions as Sermones ad fratres in eremo numbers 27, 28, and 60. These sermons are not included in any of the fourteenth-​century manuscripts I have surveyed, nor in the early collection of Robert de Bardis, though Jordan certainly had access to them in one form or another, even if they were not part of the earliest, original collection consisting of twenty-​two or twenty-​ three sermons.150 Thematically, these sermons are titled De filio prodigo (s. 27), De Cena Domini (s. 28), and De persecutione Christianorum (s. 60) respectively, and harmonize very well indeed with the representation of Augustine in the original collection as 1. The founder of the Order of Hermits; 2. Augustine as an alter Christus; 3. Augustine as teacher of the monastic life; and 4. Augustine as monk and bishop.151 In the sermon De filio prodigo, Augustine began by asserting that his own hermits followed the example of Ambrose, Simplicianus, and Paul, the first Hermit, sharing life in common in the hermitage,152 before exclaiming: 148 Kaspar Elm, “Sermones ad fratres in eremo. Pseudoaugustinische Lebensregeln für Eremiten und Kanoniker, in Regula Sancti Augustini. Normative Grundlage differenter Verbände im Mittelalter,” eds. Gert Melville and Anne Müller, Publikationen der Akademie der Augustiner-​Chorherren von Windesheim 3 (Paring, 2002), 515–​537; 534. 149 Saak, Creating Augustine, 128–​137. 150 Ibid., 89–​92. Sermons 27 and 28 in Migne though are present in Berlin, StB, ms theol. Lat. qu. 45, dated to the fifteenth century. For the development of the collection and the reconstruction of the earliest form thereof, see Ibid., 83–​116. 151 See Saak, Creating Augustine, 119–​137. 152 “Pax vobis, fratres dilectissimi, qui optimam partem cum Maria elegistis, dum mundum et pompas ejus contemnere voluistis. Voluistis enim terrena despicere. Saniori enim consilio sanctorum Ambrosii et Simpliciani patrum vitam tutiorem aggressi sumus cum Paulo mundum fugiente, timentes ne caperemur ab eo. In eremo denique sumus, jucunditatem communicationis et fractionis panis intelligentes, clamantes cum propheta: Ecce quam bonum et quam jucundum habitare fratres in unum (Psal. 132: 1). Tutior enim haec

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Oh holy eremitical life, solitary life, the life of the perfect, an angelic, not a human life, a life of those doing penance, a life of those fighting against the world, a life of those fleeing to God, a life conformed to God, not to humans, a life of sons who had wandered returning to their father! This is the house where a son, who had consumed his inheritance by living luxuriously is reconciled to his father.153 While Augustine portrays God as the Father of prodigal sinners, and strongly asserts that we are the prodigals who constantly must confess, “My Lord, I have sinned. I am not worthy to be called your son,”154 by asserting his monastery is the house where the son is reconciled he is also putting himself in the role of Father to his hermits, confirming the Order’s adoption of Augustine as their Father. Augustine had likewise done so very forcefully in sermon twenty-​three of the Sermones ad fratres in eremo and in the first sermon in Jordan’s collection of Sermones ad Presbyteros quoted above. Such a reading is confirmed with the ending of the sermon, where Augustine, having established that we are all prodigals, reminds his brothers of the significance of the monastic life and dress: Think therefore brothers why we have come here. Here we are in solitude, far away from the world, and we have already remained in solitude vita est et dulcior, ubi unus alium cohortatur, ubi alter alterius exemplo inflammatur.” pl 40, col. 1280–​1281. 153 “O vita sancta eremitica, vita solitaria, vita perfectorum, vita angelica non humana, vita poenitentium, vita contra mundum pugnantium, vita ad Deum fugientium, vita deifica non humana, vita filiorum qui erraverunt ad patrem redeuntium! Haec est domus, ubi reconciliatur patri filius, qui portionem substantiae consumpserat luxuriose vivendo.” pl 40, col. 1281. 1 54 “Eia ergo, fratres mei et corona matris meae, scitote quod porcos jam pavimus, cum multo tempore daemonibus peccando placuimus. Jam frequenter eorum siliquas desideravimus, quando mundo placere voluimus, quando in eo florere concupivimus, quando delectationibus suis toto affectu adhaesimus. Sed nunc Dei gratia servi Christi sumus, clamare non cessemus, Peccavi, Domine: jam non sum dignus vocari filius tuus. Quorum clamorem audiens occurrit nobis osculando, suam pacem donando. Stolam donavit, quando animam vitiis spoliavit. Annulum donavit, quando in fide nos sua roboravit. Calceamenta donavit, quando memoriam mortis nobis impressit. Vitulum occidit, quando in sacramento altaris memoriam passionis ejus in mente renovavit. Tunc nobiscum pater manducat et epulatur, quando in operibus suis perseverando delectamur. Tunc sic nobis ornatis praecipit Angelis Deus, ut convivium praeparent; quia mortui eramus, et resurreximus; perieramus, et inventi sumus. Cogitate ergo, fratres, ad quid venimus. Ecce in solitudine sumus, elongati sumus a saeculo, et longo tempore jam mansimus in solitudine, ut secundum apostolicam formam quietius vivere valeamus.” pl 40, col. 1282.

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for a long time, so that we might be strong enough to live quietly according to the apostolic life. For the location does not make saints, but good work sanctifies the place and us. For an angel in heaven sinned; Adam in paradise sinned, and yet no place was more holy than those. For if places were able to bless an inhabitant, neither man nor angel would have been corrupted from his own dignity. Think, therefore, brothers, what your black habit, your leather belt, and your tonsure mean. For your black habit, which is worthless, denotes for us the contempt of the world and the memory of death. Our belt points to our girding our loins. Our tonsure signifies the removal of the abundance of reproaches from our mind … Most necessary of all for us living in the hermitage is humility, which is signified through our clothing; chastity, which is denoted by our girding ourselves; obedience, which is understood through our being subjected to our superiors. We carry a staff, which is understood as discipline, which we should also be ready to undergo. May God, however, who has recalled us from the darkness of the world to grace, confirm us in every good, so that we might abound in the hope and virtue of the Holy Spirit, Amen.155 The importance and significance of the habit is also highlighted in the following sermon, sermon twenty-​eight of the Maurist-​Migne edition of the Sermones ad fratres in eremo. Here Augustine focused on the Lord’s Supper, and quickly turned to the issue of Judas’ betrayal. Such betrayal should serve as a warning for his brother hermits: Drive away from you therefore this deathly venom of hate, and have peace among you, because you are brothers who are called all together in this desert solitude. For in one bread, one garment, one black color, 155 “Cogitate ergo, fratres, ad quid venimus. Ecce in solitudine sumus, elongati sumus a saeculo, et longo tempore jam mansimus in solitudine, ut secundum apostolicam formam quietius vivere valeamus. Locus enim non facit sanctos, sed operatio bona locum sanctificabit et nos. Peccavit enim angelus in coelo, peccavit Adam in paradiso: et tamen nullus locus sanctior illis erat. Si enim loca habitatorem beare possent, nec homo nec angelus a dignitate sua corruissent. Pensate ergo, fratres, quid vestis nigra, quid zona pellicea, quid corona capitis persuadeant. Nigra enim vestis, quae vilis est, mundi contemptum nobis denuntiat, et memoriam mortis. Zona pellicea lumborum refrenationem declarat. Capilli rasi de vertice, superfluitatem criminum significant ablatam de mente … Summe necessaria est igitur nobis in eremo demorantibus ipsa humilitas, quae designatur per vestem; castitas, quae denotatur per lumborum praecinctionem; obedientia, quae intelligitur per subjectionem. Portamus etiam baculos, per quos intelligitur disciplina, sub qua semper parati esse debemus. Deus autem qui nos de tenebris gentium revocavit ad gratiam, confirmet etiam in omni bono, ut abundemus in spe et virtute Spiritus sancti. Amen.” Ibid.

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one water we are all together participants. Let us bring back to our memory, brothers, that the Lord was kissed by an enemy, and nevertheless, he called that traitor friend. “Friend,” he said, “why have you come?” (Matth. 26;50). Therefore, give the peace of reconciliation, but not the kiss of the traitor. For who can doubt that someone who falsely kisses an enemy, or offers a charming word, is a brother and associate of Judas the traitor and similar to him? But whoever offers a kiss from love is truly a son of Christ.156 Yet the true brothers were the light of the world, though they needed to take heed that they truly lived their professed lives. Augustine reminded them in this context of the significance of their habit: For you brothers, whose life is the light of the world, although the world does not see you, I nevertheless call you the light of the world and the salt of the earth. Therefore, because you are light, let the light of your good works shine. We, who are seen to bear the figure of the cross in the habit of our body, and who have the name of holy religion, carry even the black vestment of humility and appear girded, let us be wary lest we are as a whitewashed tomb with beautiful and sparkling appearance, while internally we are filled with the hidden bones of death; let us take care lest it is said to us, “Woe to you who close the kingdom of heaven before men” (Matth. 23:13).157 Such duplicity, wearing the habit, yet not living the religious life, could lead to the loss of a brother, the falling away of a brother, which was to be mourned 156 “Pellite ergo a vobis hoc odii mortiferum venenum, et pacem inter vos habete; quia estis fratres qui in hac vasta solitudine simul in unum estis congregati. Uno enim pane, uno indumento, uno nigro colore, una aqua omnes simul participamus. Reducamus igitur, fratres, ad nostram memoriam, quod Dominus ab inimico osculatus est, et tamen amicum vocat illum proditorem: Amice, inquit, ad quid venisti (Matth. xxvi, 50)? Date igitur reconciliationis pacem, sed non osculum proditionis. Qui enim ficte inimicum osculatur, vel verbo blanditur, Judae proditoris fratrem et socium et similem sibi esse, quis dubitare poterit? Sed qui amore, Christi verus filius est.” pl 40, col. 1286–​1287. 157 “Vos enim, fratres, quorum vita lux mundi est, licet mundus vos non videat, tamen mundi lucem vos appello et sal terrae. Ideo quia lux estis, luceant opera vestra bona. Nos qui videmur gerere in corporis nostri habitu figuram crucis, et nomen religionis sanctae habemus, nigram etiam vestem humilitatis portamus, zonis etiam pelliceis praecincti apparemus; caveamus ne simus sepulcra dealbata, quae foris pulchra et speciosa apparent, sed intus plena sunt ossibus mortuorum occultis; provideamus ne nobis dicatur, Vae vobis qui clauditis regnum coelorum ante homines (Matth. 23:13).” Ibid., col. 1287.

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indeed. Such was the case for a brother known only as Simplicius. Augustine explained his caution: For I greatly fear that we might not enter paradise and might prevent others from entering. Why do I say this, brothers? Not because I think that you are evil, but because I suffer from the loss of our brother Simplicius, who had come to this place and to this holy community with such fervor, and having heard that his father had been murdered, left us and entered the world so that he might seek vengeance for his father’s death. Who, therefore, thinks that he is standing firm in this life, should vigilantly take care and see that he does not fall away, and thus men seeing them, who seem to be pillars of holiness so evilly fall away that they not only close the kingdom of heaven to themselves, but even remain in this world. And finally, brothers, for us, who carry the name and habit of holy religion, the evil life is shown to be more dangerous than remaining in the world. Let us bewail therefore brothers our sins and our brothers who have been lost. Let us love one another, because love is of God. One should not be embarrassed to make known a venial sin to another, because Christ was not embarrassed to call enemies back to peace. A servant should not be embarrassed to do what his Lord first has done. May our Lord, however, who makes us live as one in this house, who is true peace, who turns diversity into unity, make us persevere in true peace.158 The problem of falling away, the exhortation to remain in one’s vocation and profession, was also the theme of sermon sixty in the Maurist-​Migne edition of the Sermones ad fratres in eremo, which treated Christian persecution. Even though the period of persecutions was over by the time Augustine was 158 “Timeo enim satis, ne paradisum intremus, nec alios intrare permittamus. Hoc autem quare dico, fratres? Non quia credam vos malos esse, sed quia doleo de fratre nostro perdito Simplicio, qui ad hunc locum et ad hanc sanctam congregationem cum tanto fervore pervenit, et audito patrem interfectum esse, a nobis recessit, et mundum intravit, ut patris vindictam vindicare posset. Qui ergo se existimat stare, vigilanter attendat et videat ne cadat, et sic homines videntes illos qui columnae sanctitatis esse videbantur tam nequiter cadere, non solum ipsis regnum coelorum claudunt, sed et in saeculo demorantibus. Nobis denique, fratres, qui nomen et habitum sanctae religionis portamus, vita mala periculosior ostenditur, quam in saeculo demorantibus. Ploremus ergo, fratres, peccata nostra, et fratris nostri amissi: diligamus et nos invicem, quia charitas ex Deo est. Non erubescat alter alteri veniam postulare, quia non erubuit Christus inimicos ad pacem in cruce revocare. Non erubescat facere servus, quod primum fecit et Dominus. Dominus autem qui habitare facit nos unius moris in domo, qui est vera pax, qui fecit utraque unum, nos in vera pace perseverare faciat.” Ibid.

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a bishop, he began by asserting that the brothers should not think Christians do not still suffer persecution. The devil rules in this world and is constantly assaulting Christians. “Everything,” Augustine affirmed, “that is in the world persecutes Christians.”159 Worldly temptations are persecution, always seeking to lead us away from living our vows, and if I break my profession, I deny Christ. Life is still one of facing martyrdom, and if we flee from fasting to discipline our body, do we think that we would not flee from the martyr’s pyre?160 Yet one should not think that only the monks are saved. Augustine’s brothers chose freely to live the life they were living, and those living in the world, those married, those serving as soldiers, if they are Christians, they too are saved.161 159 “Frequenter diximus, fratres charissimi, quod semper Christiani persecutionem patiuntur. Mundus iste in maligno positus est. Adversarius noster diabolus regnat in mundo; et nos putamus quod non patiamur persecutionem? Quae enim res non persequitur christianum? Omnia quae in mundo sunt, persequuntur Christianum.” pl 40, col. 1342. 160 “Miramur, si nos persequuntur alii, si Christo servire voluerimus? Et parentes nostri nos persequuntur. Quicumque dissimilis est nostri, persequitur nos, et odio nos habet. Miramur, si alii nos persequuntur? Ipsum corpus nostrum nos persequitur. Si comedero paululum, et corpusculum robustum fuerit, sanitas corporis mei persequitur animam meam. Quocumque me vertero, persecutio mihi est. Si videro mulierem, oculus meus persequitur me; cupit enim interficere animam meam. Si videro divitias, si aurum, si argentum, si possessiones, quodcumque videro et desideravero, hoc persequitur animam meam. Non putemus tantum in effusione sanguinis esse martyrium: semper martyrium est Christianis et religiosis. Adolescentulum libido persequitur: vult libido effundere sanguinem animae. Quando periclitatur anima tua, et quasi in periculo constituitur, tunc stat Dominus Jesus a dextris Patris, et pugnat pro adolescentulo suo. Si ergo sunt martyria in pacis tempore, sunt et negationes. Nemo ergo dicat non esse martyrium. Et martyrium est, et negatio. Ego hodie qui videor esse monachus, si rupero propositum meum, Christum negavi. Et si in pace Christum nego, in persecutione quid facerem? Non torqueor neque exuror, et denego: si torquerer et exurerer, quid facerem? Qui in persecutione negat, habet veniam plagae: pro illo precantur sancti. Quid enim dicit? Volui pugnare, caro mea in colluctatione defecit; non cessit animus, sed cessit corpus; aliud mens cogitabat, aliud corpus compellebat: et tamen non habet excusationem. Nulla enim est plaga quae debeat ab amore Christi separare. Quid enim tibi dicit? Hoc est, in incendio ardebas, in equuleo pendebas, propter me torquebaris: et dicis, Non potui sustinere tormenta. Et quomodo sustinuit Petrus, quomodo Paulus, quomodo caeteri martyres sustinuerunt? Ea habuerunt corpora quae et tu habes? O monache, qui jejunium fugis, putas ignem effugere? Hoc ergo dico, quoniam omni tempore sunt martyria, sunt et persecutions.” Ibid., col. 1342–​1343. 161 “Hoc totum dico vobis, fratres charissimi, ne quis de vobis putet se habere liberam potestatem, et dicat, Ergo illi qui uxores habent, qui sunt in civitatibus, qui militant, qui negotiantur, ergo totus mundus in periculo est, soli monachi salvantur. Non est nostra et ­illorum aequa conditio. Illi scientes imbecillitatem suam non promiserunt facere quod non potuerunt. Illi quidem christiani sunt. Sed est christianus quasi saecularis, et quasi negotiator; et christianus quasi miles. Et Cornelius centurio miles fuit, sed salvatus est.” Ibid., col. 1343.

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The difference is that Augustine and his hermits chose to live the religious life and made their solemn profession. Once that decision had been made, it could not be unmade. If one monk sinned in leaving the monastic life and got married, realizing he could not sustain the life he had chosen, and confessed his sin, he would remain a sinner, but he would be a saint in comparison to a monk who could not sustain living a chaste, monastic life but did not confess his sin and tried to remain living as a monk, though as one not fulfilling his profession.162 Once the vows had been taken and the profession made, an Augustinian hermit would no longer be permitted to leave the Order, which was codified in the Order’s Constitutions. As stated in Staupitz’s Constitutions for the Observance in Saxony-​Thuringia in 1504, which simply followed the Regensburg Constitutions of 1290, before taking his solemn vows a novice would be told: Dear Brother, the time of your probation is complete, during which you have become acquainted with the austerity of our Order. You have lived with us, joining in all aspects of our life, just as one of us, except for the monastic counsels. Therefore, you now are to choose one of two paths: either you leave us, or, you renounce this world and not only offer,

162 “Ego qui monachus sum, qui desivi esse saecularis, et factus sum monachus; aut monachus salvus ero, aut aliter non salvabor: non est aliud medium. Si voluero dimittere vitam monachi et sequi saecularem, non habebit me Dominus quasi saecularem, sed quasi praevaricatorem. Non ergo licet nobis dimittere quod habemus in proposito. Dicat aliquis, Quid facio, si peccavi in isto proposito, qui factus sum nec saecularis nec monachus? Aliquis peccat peccato majori? cupit emendare? Ergo hoc dico, Non nobis licet dimittere quod habuimus propositum, licet dignitatem propositi perdideris. Si peccasti in vita monachi constitutus, esto poenitens quasi monachus: non quasi saecularis, sed quasi monachus. Aliquis dicat, Fugi dominum meum, ne me caedat: semper fugere debeo? Si te poenitet quod fugisti, debes reverti ad dominum tuum. Nemo dicat, Poenitet me quia fugi, et debeo semper fugere. Sive sancti simus, sive peccatores simus, nobis non licet mutare propositum. Si sanctus es, beatus es monachus: si peccator es, miser es monachus. Non licet mutare propositum, licet dignitatem propositi perdideris. Haec quidem in commune loquor: et quod vobis loquor, mihi quoque loquor, ne quis se putet habere potestatem mutare propositum. Rem vobis dico novam: quasi in comparatione dico, non quasi hoc praecipiam. Fac duos monachos corruisse; hoc est, uterque peccaverit. Alius de ipsis, verbi causa, saecularem duxit uxorem, et dixit, Non possum sustinere, non possum monachus perseverare. Alius vero qui peccaverat, intellexit suum peccatum; nulli confitetur, plangit tamen quod fecit, die noctuque Domini misericordiam deprecatur. Non dico quia bene fecerit quod peccavit: ad comparationem tamen ejus qui publice sceleratus est, iste sanctus est. Hoc totum quare dico? Non ut spem peccatoribus dem, aut per ipsam spem dem occasionem peccandi; sed dico, etiam quicumque peccaverit, non ei licet mutare propositum.” Ibid., col. 1343–​1344.

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but also truly give yourself completely to God, and then to our Order. After having given up such, thus offering yourself as a sacrifice, you will not be permitted for whatever reason to throw off from your neck the yoke of obedience, which with such serious consideration you freely accepted when you were still able to leave.163 The profession and vows formed the point of no return, and Jordan cited this sermon in his Liber Vitasfratrum as evidence that Augustine himself remained living the life of a hermit even after his episcopal ordination. William of Cremona, the Prior General of the Order from 1326–​1342, did likewise. After he was appointed as Bishop of Novara (1342–​1356), Jordan related in his exemplum of the point, he continued to live his hermit life, celebrating the Divine Office day and night devotedly as he had previously.164 The common life, based on the celebration of the Divine Office, was the foundation of Augustine’s religion, and had been stressed by Priors General from Giles of Rome to Gregory of Rimini and Giles of Viterbo. Yet seemingly it remained a struggle, a point of contention and the basis for efforts to effect a much needed reformation of the Order, to bring the hermits back to the obedience of living the life they had professed, precisely because, as we have seen, not all Augustinian Hermits were doing so. The Hermits remained prodigals, they remained persecuted by the devil and the world’s temptations, despite the vow of obedience and despite the efforts taken to ensure the common life. Obedience had to be enforced. And the Augustinian hermit was to live internally according to the symbolic meaning of his habit. It was a tall order, yet doing so, even if a daily struggle, was what made one an Augustinian. Punishments were prescribed for those brothers who did not live up to their vows, who did not thoroughly live Augustine’s religion, lest some might be lost, as was Simplicius, for whom Augustine 163 “Care frater, tempus probationis tuae completum est, in quo asperitatem ordinis nostri expertus es: Fuisti namque in omnibus nobiscum sicut unus ex nobis praeterquam in consiliis. Nunc ergo e duobus oportet te eligere unum: sive a nobis discedere, vel saeculo huic renuntiare teque totum deo primum et dehinc ordini nostro dedicare atque offere, adiecto quod, postquam sic te obtuleris, de subiungo oboedientiae collum tuum quacumque ex causa excutere non licebit, quod sub tam morose deliberatione, cum recusare libere posses, sponte sucipere voluisti.” Johannes Staupitz, Constitutiones fratrum Eremitarum sancti Augustini ad Apostolicorum pivilegiorum formam pro reformatione Alemanniae, ed. Wolfgang Günter, in Johann von Staupitz, Sämtliche Schriften. Abhandlungen, Predigten, Zeugnisse, ed. Lothar Graf zu Dohna and Richard Wetzel, vol. 5, SuR 17, Berlin 2001, 18, p. 195,11–​19. 164 Jor. vf 1,13 (42–​44); cf. Saak, High Way to Heaven, 340.

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mourned. Sitting at table with an empty plate was one of the lesser punishments for more minor infractions, though still, we can assume, rather effective. Being deprived of office was another, for administrators of the Order, or being stripped of one’s title, for lectors, bachelors, and masters, each of which entailed associated privileges, the loss of which could be compelling. And for serious deviants, prison sentences could be levied, often associated with “sins of the flesh,“ or propter lapsum carnis, as Gregory of Rimini described it for Brother John de Civita de Boaiano in the Province of Lavoro and for Brother Walter, from the Province of Spoleto, the brother who had moved in with a local woman with whom he then sired children before petitioning to return to the Order. Gregory granted the petition, but a hefty prison sentence awaited him. One’s promise and profession, after all, could not be changed, once one had taken the solemn vows. One would not be allowed to throw off the yoke of obedience. We do not know what happened to the woman in question, or her children. Gregory may have made arrangements for them, but his register simply concerns Brother Walter’s case, and how to bring him back to the Order, to observance, lest he fall away and be lost like Simplicius.165 Whereas obedience was the vow that pertained to the cor unum of the Rule, chastity concerned the anima una, and Jordan treated chastity in the second part of Part Two of his Liber Vitasfratrum. This was the longest section of the entire work, requiring, it seems, more attention than anything else.166 Maintaining chastity was a continuous battle for the late medieval sons of Augustine, as it had been a rather major issue for Augustine himself. Location certainly didn’t help matters, and the brothers in Paris were especially bad, at least according to Prior General William of Cremona, who wrote to the cloister in Paris in 1328, prohibiting brothers from riding horses around town, claiming that even in chapter brothers, when they ought to be listening to the warnings of salvation and considering humbly their own guilt, they shamelessly stir up commotions with senseless chatter and moving their hands and feet … with their depraved morals and examples … they could care less that by their pernicious exploits they disturb the peace of the convent and the studium.167 1 65 Saak, High Way to Heaven, 315–​318. 166 Ibid., 245–​253, 286–​306. 167 “Item, precipimus omnibus et singulis fratribus, tam presentibus quam futuris, quatenus nullus frater recedendo a loco isto, per civitatem Parysiensem, sub pena inobedientie nostre, audeat equitare … Item, cum per plurium fide dignorum vive voce oraculum nosque etiam ipsi didicerimus, quod nonnulli in nostro Parysiensi Studio, qui in sola superficie studentium gloriantur, tanquam Ordinis beneficiorum ingrati, eorum

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Two years previous, William had already warned that “our holy and venerable religion, which proves itself to be a third column in the edifice of God, is both spiritually collapsed and has fallen away from all observance of the patristic traditions and holy constitutions.”168 Thus William sought to bring about a reformation of the Parisian cloister and studium, from the celebration of the Divine Office, to the sacristy, the refectory and the kitchen, and dormitory and individual cells, in other words, a thorough reformation was needed in all aspects of the daily life of the Parisian cloister.169 He did so, moreover, with good reason, as there is compelling evidence, even if explicit details are lacking, that the Parisian Augustinians had problems as well with maintaining their chastity with respect to local boys, who were prohibited from being brought into brothers’ cells, to local nuns and secular women, and to the friars themselves.170 In his Liber Vitasfratrum, Jordan offered sixteen ways to preserve one’s chastity,171 and praised a brother’s zeal for chastity, though he ­condemned his efforts to do so, which was to circumcise himself; two other brothers castrated themselves, but Jordan rebuked them. Yet short of self-​castration or circumcision, most other practices of chastizing one’s flesh were approved. The sense of sight was especially dangerous, and avoiding looking at women was the first guard of one’s chastity Jordan recommended, and indeed was already put forth in the Rule. Jordan affirmed though that while there are both physical and spiritual means and methods to guard one’s chastity, he preferred

maligna conversatione non desistunt perturbare Studium et convenum, in tantum quod et ad observantias regulares, qui debent esse quasi religiosorum finis, in nullo videntur vel advertere et, quod detestabilius est, dum sunt in Capitulo, ubi debent monita salutis audire, et suas culpas humiliter recognoscere, ipsi labiorum sibilatione et pedum seu manuum commotione, non vereantur excitare tumultum, quidamque dicantur aliis discoli, qui suis pravis moribus et exemplis, pudicitiam videlicet obedientes, non vereantur perniciosis ausibus pacem conventus et studii perturbare.” William of Cremona, Pro Ordinatione Conventus Parisiensis, dated 14 April 1328, An.Aug. 4 (1911/​1912), 61. 168 “Quum sicut proborum virorum relatione comperimus et nos etiam ipsi occulata fide perspeximus sacra et veneranda nostra Religio, que tertia columpna in Dei edificio existere comprobatur, sit spiritualiter et collapsa et ab omni observantia paternarum traditionum et sacrarum constitutionum defecit.” Ibid., 29. 169 “Item priori stricte precipimus per obedientiam salutarem quatenus omnia puncta circa reformationem oficii divini, sacristie, librorum chori, circa reformationem negociorum refectorii et coquine, circa etiam reformationem aliorum negociorum ad extra, prout sibi in scriptis relinquimus, cordi habeat diligenter et quod circa illa ita sit sollicitus et attentus et ita prompte studeat executioni mandare, quod e negligentia predictorum ipsum reprehendere non possimus.” Ibid., 65. 170 Saak, High Way to Heaven, 247–​251. 171 Ibid, 299–​303.

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the spiritual means,172 such as prayer and vigils. There were, however, some brothers anyway who seemed to have successfully rid themselves of lust, for Jordan affirmed that: Although it may seem, according to the common law, impossible to extinguish the fire of concupiscence in ourselves, nevertheless it should not be doubted … that we are able to cleanse our members from the contagion of fornication and uncleanliness, just as we can cut avarice out from our heart. We can see that some holy men entirely cut avarice out of their hearts, just as those who renounce all they possess on account of Christ. Wherefore it is possible in a similar way to extirpate the concupiscence of fornication from our members.173 While some Augustinian hermits surely did cleanse themselves from lust and avarice, others did not. And while some Augustinian hermits surely did renounce their possessions, others did not. As the Augustinian life described by Jordan was based on maintaining chastity and being obedient while doing so, it was likewise founded on the renunciation of ownership, of personal property. The Augustinian life was based on the precepts of the Rule, which itself was based on the apostolic community as described in chapter four of the Acts of the Apostles. All property was to be held in common, with goods distributed to each according to need. This form of the apostolic life, the original form stemming from Christ himself and then his apostles, had, over time, been adapted and accommodated to the needs of the growing Church. There had been, Jordan affirmed, eight successive modes of the practice of apostolic poverty, and over time, the apostolic life had become increasingly lax.174 Augustine, therefore, was the first to restore the original practice of apostolic poverty in his Rule, founded on the Acts of the Apostles. Even though the Rules of St. Pachomius and St. Basil predated Augustine’s Rule, they had not been confirmed by the 172 “Sed sciendum, quod cum inter cautelas praemissas quaedam sint corporales, quaedam spirituales, ego plus amplector spirituales quam alias.” Jor. vf 2, 30 (ed. 309,859–​861). 173 “Etsi impossibile videatur secundum legem communem ignem carnalis concupiscentiae in nobis posse exstingui, nulli tamen dubium esse debet … quin ita fornicationis et immunditiae de membris nostris possimus abolere contagium, sicut avaritiam de corde nostro abscidimus. Videmus autem nonnullos sanctos viros avaritiam omnimode de eorum cordibus abscidisse, sicut qui abrenuntiaverunt omnibus, quae possiderunt, propter Christum. Quare et similiter fornicationis concupiscentia de membris nostri poterit exstirpari.” Jor. vf 2,31 (ed. 309,2–​310,11). 174 Jor. vf 3,2 (ed. 326,3–​330,110).

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Church and they were not as such based on Acts.175 Augustine himself, in the twenty-​first sermon Jordan had collected in his Collectanea as Augustine’s Sermones ad fratres suos in eremo, and which he used to support his presentation, had asserted as much: Thus you see that before me there were many fathers whom we ought to follow and imitate, though they did not teach others to live according to the apostolic life as I do. Therefore I am not ashamed to say that I am the principle of all of you, though it should not grieve you to follow and imitate them in all things, being sure however to hold and possess everything in common, because who are those living in the highest sweetness of poverty except for those who have one heart and soul, possessing all things communally?176 When a brother entered the Order, he was to hand over all his possessions to the Order so that they became common goods. In practice, however, this functioned rather like a dowry. Thus Prior General Gregory of Rimini, on the feast of St. Augustine in 1358, wrote to Matthew of Amelia, the Provincial of Spoleto, with respect to Brother Gabriel de Cantiana. Gabriel’s mother was in financial need, and thus had petitioned Gregory to ask if the Province could sell some of the property he had brought with him when he entered the Order to provide for his mother. Gregory admitted he did not know that much about the case, but if the Provincial found the case to have merit, and if it would not damage the local convent, and no ulterior motives or fraud was found, he would grant his permission.177 Gregory had already given such permission to Brother Angelucio in Todi to meet his father’s debts, but now his mother also needed financial assistance, and thus Gregory again gave his permission to the Provincial to sell more of Angelucio’s dowry to meet the need.178 Though the 1 75 Jor. vf 3,3 (ed. 330,2–​332,54). 176 “Sic enim videtis quod ante me multi fuerunt patres quos sequi et imitari debemus, non tamen sicut ego secundum apostolicam vitam alios vivere docuerunt. Caput igitur et principium omnium vestrum me dicere non erubesco. Non tamen vos pigeat eos sequi et imitari in omnibus, attendentes tamen omnia communiter habere et possidere quia qui celsitudine paupertatis viventes non licet nisi ut unus sit cor una anima, omnia communiter possidere?” Jor. Coll., sermo 21, Paris, Bib. De l’Arsenal ms 251, fol. 26rb-​va. For the oesa’s view of poverty in context of the late medieval debates, see Fulgence Mathes, “The Poverty Movement and the Augustinian Hermits,” Analecta Augustiniana 31 (1968): 5–​154; An.Aug. 32 (1969): 5–​116. 177 Saak, High Way to Heaven, 335. 178 Ibid., 335–​336.

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Order adhered to apostolic poverty, one’s dowry could be used for one’s personal needs. Thus Gregory too instructed the convent of Firmano to sell certain parcels of land to provide funds for Brother Andreas’s studies in Paris, including the purchase of books for Brother Andreas’s use until his death, though the land in question had been part of Andreas’s dowry.179 Distributing common goods to each according to their need could, at least in these cases, include the financial needs of a brother or of a brother’s family. Permission was needed to be sure. Neither Angelucio nor Andreas could themselves simply sell off their dowry; it was not, technically, any longer their property, but it was it seems accounted for their potential use as need arose. While the oesa prescribed a common life, not all brothers were equal in terms of having the same needs. This reality Jordan addressed in Part Four of his Liber Vitasfratrum, in which he acknowledged that the equality of Augustine’s Rule was a proportional equality, based on one’s status and needs, treating every brother fairly, even if not all brothers were treated the same. Thus in secular life, a duke has different needs than does a regular foot soldier.180 This inequality was based on health as well as status. Thus sick or elderly brothers were allowed to sleep on feather mattresses, and were given more generous portions of food. There was too a differentiation in terms of the dignity of persons, and Jordan pointed to the apostles, the seventy-​two disciples and the seven deacons.181 Such a hierarchy was also present within the Order itself, which was a hierarchy of the dignity of office, from Prior General to lay brother. The venerable masters of theology held a special place, and they had special privileges to go along with their elevated state. In his attempt to effect a reformation of the convent and studium in Paris, Prior General William of Cremona had prohibited brothers from sleeping on feather mattresses or with linen sheets, and he prohibited the use of furnaces in one’s own cell. However, the reverend masters and bachelors of theology were exempt from such restrictions.182 Moreover, the General Chapter of the Order in 1318 stipulated that every master of theology at a general studium was to receive six florins for his clothing needs, while a bachelor of theology received five, and a lector only four; the Chapter at Paris in 1329 granted twice as much to masters of theology for their weekly needs as for bachelors and three times as much as lectors.183 Prior General Gregory of Rimini allowed Brother Bartholomew from Siena to 1 79 Ibid., 337. 180 Jor. vf 4,1 (ed. 392,3–​393,45). 181 Jor. vf 4,2 (ed. 394,3–​395,47). 182 Saak, High Way to Heaven, 370–​371. 183 Ibid., 371.

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keep the excesses in funds he had received that had been collected to cover the expenses of his inception as magister. One hundred florins had been allotted, but Brother Bartholomew had raked in more than 350. Gregory did not rebuke him, but simply instructed him to keep it quiet.184 While all of Augustine’s sons were to live the common life, celebrate the Divine Office, maintain chastity and poverty, and be obedient, in short, while all Augustinian Hermits strove to follow Augustine’s religion, the actual daily lives of the brothers differed widely, depending on one’s position within the Order. Having one heart and soul in God did not entail that everyone was the same. Thus Jordan treated both the positive and the negative aspects of singularitas in his Liber Vitasfratrum, demarcating allowable individuality that should be supported and even held up as example,185 from the hypocritical, negative side of the vice singularitas that was to be avoided at all costs.186 Thus Augustine too warned against detractors, gossipers, and complainers in his sermon De murmuratoribus, the eighteenth of the Sermones ad fratres suos in eremo Jordan had collected.187 Brother Antonius in Naples surely would have come under Augustine’s censure, for Brother Antonius had, it seemed, broken into the cell of a recently deceased friar to steal his possessions, possessions that were common, but for the deceased brother’s use. For his crime, his theft, Brother Antonius was sentenced to three months in prison, bound in chains.188 Such disobedience had to be countered. The inequality of the brothers could well breed discontent, gossip and backbiting, jealousy, theft, and fights, and such disobedience destroyed the common life and went directly against the Augustinians’ uniform way of life. It destroyed the path of religion, as it had, in part, together with a lack of chastity, in Paris, according to William of Cremona, and in the Order as such, as seen by Gregory of Rimini in the mid-​fourteenth century, and Giles of Viterbo in the early sixteenth. The entire history of the Augustinian Hermits, from their early origins and foundation by Alexander iv in 1256, through the onset of the Protestant Reformation, was a continuous attempt to effect a reformation of the brothers’ daily life, to somehow get them to live indeed according to the Order’s Rule and Constitutions. It was a constant struggle. The Augustinian Hermits, from the very beginnings of the Order, were struggling to define their daily life and to enforce the ideals of what their daily life “should” be like, and it was a continuous endeavor. There had never been a 1 84 Ibid., 336. 185 Jor. vf 4,10 (ed. 420–​425); 4, 11 (ed. 426–​431). 186 Jor. vf 4, 12 (ed. 431–​433); 4.13 (ed. 433–​435). 187 Jor. Coll., sermo 18, Paris, Bib. De l’Arsenal ms 251, fol. 21va-​24ra. 188 Saak, High Way to Heaven, 338.

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golden age of the flourishing of religious observance that then later reformers looked back to. Perhaps it should not come as a surprise; the habit indeed did not make the monk. As Jordan concluded his Liber Vitasfratrum: “Therefore let us adorn ourselves with spiritual ornaments, because, as Jerome said, it is not delicate vestments, but the cleanliness of the mind that makes the cleric decorous. For it is not exterior, but interior beauty that God requires.”189 And yet, we are still faced with the question of what made one an Augustinian. Even if we know what did so based on prescriptive texts, based on the ideals, we have very little insight indeed into the actual daily life of the Augustinian Hermit in the later Middle Ages. The texts that have come down to us describe what should be, rather than what was, aside from the registers of the priors general, who had to deal with the deviants, the problem cases, the exceptions. The Order’s Rule and Constitutions, the Sermones ad fratres suos in eremo, and Jordan’s Liber Vitasfratrum all explicate a normative ideal, an ideal that gave the Order its identity, and demarcated it from all other religious groups, signified externally by the habit they wore, and their comportment in society. The true sons of Augustine were to be the embodiment of their leader, teacher, father, and head, Augustine himself, holding up Augustine as the rule and exemplar for all their actions, as Jordan asserted. Yet the practice was more problematic. The oesa was based on the ideal father figure, the image, the normative image of Augustine as the father of the Order, as well as its leader, teacher, and head. Yet how this ideal related to Brother Remigius, who was blind and petitioned his prior general, Gregory of Rimini, to be exempt from saying Mass, a petition Gregory granted,190 we have no way of really knowing. Brother Remigius seemingly was a devout, pious brother. Did he conform completely to the ideals? Did his life exemplify what it meant to be an Augustinian as defined by Jordan in his Liber Vitasfratrum? Had he tried to conform his life to the teachings of Augustine in his Rule, the Order’s Constitutions, and the Sermones ad fratres in eremo? How successful was he? Did he follow always the prescriptions for celebrating the Divine Office and reading or studying or working? We don’t know. All we can say is the poor old friar petitioned the prior general to be relieved of his obligation to celebrate Mass due to his blindness. Faithfulness, piety, devotion such a petition evidences indeed. Can we then peer into his daily life? Not really. And yet that daily life, to which we have little to no access, was what indeed made one an Augustinian. 189 “Ornemus ergo nos spiritualibus ornamentis, quia, ut ait Hieronymus, non tenera vestis, sed munditia mentis ornatum facit clericum. Non enim exteriorem, sed interiorem pulchritudinem requirit Deus.” Jor. vf 4,14 (ed. 442,165–​167). 190 Saak, High Way to Heaven, 320.

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The daily life of the oesa consisted in striving, in various degrees, to live up to an idea, an ideal, to meet the demands of a mythical father. The oesa did indeed have a father complex, for their father, as their leader, teacher, and head, was Augustine himself. It was an ongoing realization that one can never live up to one’s father’s expectations, the ideals one’s father represents. As sons, we always fall short, even as we continue with all our being to follow in our father’s footsteps. The image was explicit with Jordan, for as Augustine himself argued, “follow me and the fathers because Christ is in them,”191 and there is basically no salvation if you don’t, you true sons, even if prodigals. Prodigals we are, and perhaps always have been. Durkheim saw the conflict between fathers and sons as fundamental to religion as such,192 and perhaps it still is. God as our Father. Augustine as our Father, our Priest as our Father. What are we to make of this? Self presentation and the social construction of the Order’s identity was central, but to truly be an Augustinian required more. It required living internally in harmony with external actions, living indeed internally what the habit signified. Identity was central. How does one follow Augustine? How does one truly be his son? How does one indeed live with one heart and soul in God? The late medieval Augustinians continuously sought answers to such questions, yet such answers can only be found based on daily life, on living as an Augustinian day in and day out. The question is, though, how to do so? Jordan had an answer. Perhaps we should listen anew. I am not worthy to be called your son. Is that realization perhaps a point of departure? Is that realization not prerequisite for striving to live day in and day out in Augustine’s footsteps? When it comes down to it, Augustine’s religion in a nutshell was the sincere confession: I am not worthy to be called your son—​and yet I yearn to be, I strive to be, habit or no. This was the challenge the late medieval Augustinians faced, Augustine’s true sons who nevertheless remained prodigals. And with that recognition, they could only cry out, in the midst of continuous persecution in this world, as Augustine did himself so long ago: Grant what you command, and command what you will. 1 91 See note 144 above. 192 Émil Durkheim, The Elementary Forms of Religious Life (Oxford, 2008; orginally published 1912).

pa rt 2 Augustinian Political Theology

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Introduction Grant what you command, and command what you will,1 was the phrase Augustine repeated rhythmically in book ten of his Confessions, and the phrase that so bothered Pelagius. It was, in so many ways, this phrase that served as the catalyst for the Pelagian controversy. Yet in the later Middle Ages, the Augustinian position in opposition to the perceived “modern Pelagians” was not only an issue regarding the theological relationship between grace and free will and how that relationship relates to predestination, but also included the foundational aspect of living the Augustinian life, as the members of the oesa created their religious identity of being the sons of Augustine in following Augustine’s religion. To this extent, the religio Augustini was the theological endeavor of living the Augustinian life. Theology is inherently ideological. If, as discussed above in the Introduction, “ideology” is comprised of the structures that allow us to give meaning to our world, then theology is a form of ideology, for theology provides the foundational forms and structures of meaning. Theology shapes, even as it is shaped by, our “world view.” An atheist simply views the world differently from a theist, and a theistic world view is the foundation of theology. Such a theological world view is primary to theological positions and doctrines, which seek to define that world view. It is likewise primary to political positions and doctrines, which then further seek to describe the world view of a given ideology. Since the twentieth century, the great ideological divide, so to speak, has been “Marxism” over-​against “democratic capitalism,” with the later, however, denying it is an ideology to begin with, underscoring Terry Eagleton’s point that “ideology” is like “halitosis”; it is always something someone else has.2 It is not an issue of “ideology” as distinct from “reality,” for ideology provides the means of interpreting reality. In this context, Augustinian theology is equated with Augustinian ideology, whereby both terms signify the world view of the late medieval Augustinian Hermits, the late medieval socio-​religious group that appropriated Augustine for themselves as part of their very identity, as determining their world view. Ideology, as theology, does not exist abstracted from its social context, which is itself inherently political. Consequently, if we are seeking to describe Augustinian theology in the later Middle Ages, our point of departure must be the socio-​political context of the socio-​religious group that

1 Aug. conf. 10, 31, 45. 2 Terry Eagleton, Ideology. An Introduction (New York, 1991), 2.

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can be identified as having been Augustinian, or in other words, the identity and ideology of the religio Augustini that was itself a political construct within the context of the oesa’s development amidst papal-​princely politics. If, then, we are in search of a late medieval theological Augustinianism, we must begin with seeking a late medieval political Augustinianism. With the addition of the adjective “political,” however, the attempt to define precisely a late medieval Augustinianism is not overly helped. Henri Arquillière coined the term “political Augustinianism,” which he defined, drawing from Mondonnet and Gilson, as a tendency “to absorb the natural order into the supernatural order.”3 As such, political Augustinianism would aptly describe not a, but the major tendency in medieval thought. On a more specific level, the political side of Augustinianism, in any case, has also been seen as defined by adherence to the doctrine of the “dominion of grace” (dominium gratie), whereby all temporal authority is held from the pope.4 Such a teaching originated with Giles of Rome in the early fourteenth century, and can be traced through Richard Fitzralph and John Wycliff.5 While the dominium gratie provides a concrete touch-​stone for evaluating whether a given thinker can properly be classified as advocating a “political Augustinianism,” it is rather a stretch to find such a position in the writings of St. Augustine himself, and thus we return to the problem of the extent to which “Augustinianism” should be based on contemporary interpretations of Augustine. It could legitimately be argued that if “political Augustinianism” is to be defined as adherence to the political thought of Augustine, there was very little, if any, political Augustinianism in the Middle Ages. In any event, regardless of the validity of the term, and regardless of how it is defined, “political Augustinianism” has remained a topic of debate, even if cut off from its medieval roots.6 Moreover, in keeping with the 3 “… à absorber l’ordre naturel dans l’ordre surnaturel. Cette propension est à l’orgine de ce que j’ai appelé l’augustinisme politique. C’est même, à mon sens, ce qui en constitue l’essence.” H.-​X. Arquillière, L’Augustinisme Politique. Essai sur la Formation des Théories politiques du Moyen-​Age (Paris, 19552), 38–​39. 4 The development of the dominium gratie went beyond previous discussions of the relationship between the pope and the emperor, from the Gelasian “two swords” theory to Innocent iii’s assertion of the right of the pope to intervene in causa peccati; see James of Viterbo, De regmine Christiano. A Critical Edition and Translation, ed. R.W. Dyson, bsih 174/​T&S 6 (Leiden, 2009), xxvii-​xxx. 5 See William J. Courtenay, Schools and Scholars in Fourteenth-​Century England (Princeton 1987), 307–​311; and Gordon Leff, Richard Fitzralph (Manchester 1963). This position van Gerven termed “political Augustinianism narrowly defined,” see P. Raphael Van Gerven, De Wereldlijke Macht van den Paus Volgens Augustinus Triumphus (Nijmegen 1947), 39–​42. 6 See Michael J.S. Bruno, Political Augustinianism. Modern Interpretations of Augustine’s Political Thought (Minneapolis, 2014). Yet “political Augustinianism” seems to have had a

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matrix of the reception of Augustine as sketched above, we must also take into account the extent to which the politics of the Augustinian Order has a bearing on the meaning of the term “political Augustinianism.” Could not, in one perspective, the term “political Augustinianism” refer to the politics of, and/​or the political thought of, the “Augustinians” in the sense of the Augustinians’ political appropriation of Augustine? In that light, taking the political theory of the Order as the basis of definition, “political Augustinianism” would then become papal hierocratic theory. In other words, “political Augustinianism” is as big a conundrum as is “Augustinianism” to begin with. Yet to understand and interpret late medieval “Augustinianism” historically, we must base our interpretation on late medieval understandings and interpretations. The “political Augustinianism” of the later Middle Ages thus becomes the late medieval appeal to Augustine as the basis of political thought and action in the context of a political appropriation of Augustine. In this light, there is a fine line between the politics of the late medieval Augustinians, and the political thought of the late medieval Augustinians. It is, however, in the interface of the late medieval Augustinians’ politics and political thought that the historical referent for the term “late medieval political Augustinianism” is to be found. This definition takes on more concrete appearance when we realize that the historical referent for the historical understanding of the term “Augustinian” was membership in the Augustinian Order.7 Therefore, the historical referent for the term “political Augustinianism” in the later Middle Ages is the political thought and action of the Order of Hermits of St. Augustine. This is not to deny the significant impact of the writings of Augustine on the thought of such scholars as Fitzralph and Wycliff. Rather, it is a position that questions whether Fitzralph and Wycliff, or any others for that matter, appealed to Augustine in a fashion more than as an authority, or even the authority, for the church as such, while asserting that there were those scholars, namely, members of the oesa, who not only appealed to Augustine as the primary authority of the West, but also as their unique, special, and particular foundation, based on an imitation of and identification with the historically received and created Church Father. To “get at” the lived experience of living

larger role in modern debates of political philosophy than it had during its origins in the Middle Ages. In The Cambridge History of Medieval Political Thought, for example, “political Augustinianism” appears only once, as a rather vague reference to the affirmation of “the divine origin of kingship in positive terms.” Janet Nelson, “Kingship and Empire,” in J.H. Burns ed., The Cambridge History of Medieval Political Thought, c. 350-​c. 1450 (Cambridge, 1988), 211–​ 252; 248. 7 Ssak, High Way to Heaven, 683–​708.

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as an “Augustinian” in the later Middles Ages, we must turn therefore to the politics and political thought of members of the oesa, with the recognition that politics and political thought can only be distinguished formally, forming inherently as they did, and still do, a particular group’s ideology. In this light, the reception of Augustine in the later Middle Ages by members of the oesa was itself inherently ideological. Giles of Rome provided the Augustinian Hermits with their theological point of departure and had established for the Order its general platform for operation, based on the common life, the imitation of Augustine, schools for the teaching of philosophy and theology, and politically siding with the papacy.8 This fusion of the theological, institutional, and political dimensions of Giles’ achievement provided the basis for a distinct and new tradition of “political Augustinianism” forming the beginnings of a new Augustinian ideology that would only deepen and mature with the creation of the Order’s religious identity. Yet when Giles died in 1316, the Order, as see above, had not yet articulated its own clear self-​understanding and there had not yet emerged a single way of referring to the Order; its very title was still in flux. Nevertheless, the disparate hermits that Alexander iv brought together in 1256 had by 1316 made a great deal of progress and a distinct Augustinian ideology had begun to emerge. The Order’s ideology would come to maturity when it became fused with the Order’s newly created religious identity during the period from 1327 and Pope John xxii’s Bull Veneranda sanctorum and 1343 when Jordan of Quedlinburg donated the autograph of his Collectanea Sancti Augustini to his Order’s cloister in Paris.9 By this time, members of the oesa, working within the framework of the platform Giles had established, had already effected their political appropriation of Augustine and had joined that with their theological appropriation. When Augustine’s reception and appropriation were endeavors conducted by, for, and within an Augustinian ideology contributing thereby to that ideology itself, we can identify the origins of a late medieval Augustinian ideology that formed a new and unique late medieval Augustinian tradition. It was this Augustinian tradition that would effect a renaissance of Augustine. There was reception and appropriation of Augustine, and there could have been a political Augustinianism, depending on how one defines the term, without an Augustinian ideology. Yet it was this Augustinian ideology, and this

8 Saak, High Way to Heaven, 21–​23. 9 Ibid.774–​777.

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Augustinian ideology alone, that can serve historically as a valid historical referent of the ahistorical term “late medieval Augustinianism.” Thus, to describe the contours of Augustinian theology in the later Middle Ages, here in Part 2 I turn to the emergence of the Augustinian ideology by focusing on the Order’s political theology, or perhaps, the Order’s political Augustinianism. The emergence of this ideology can be seen in the works of three Augustinian Hermits: Giles of Rome, James of Viterbo, and Augustinus of Ancona. These three scholars provided the foundation of the Order’s world view in receiving and appropriating Augustine’s works in the context of fierce religio-​political conflict. This was the context in which Augustine’s “true sons” effected a “re-​birth” and “re-​embodiment” of their founding father, Augustine himself, a true Augustinian Renaissance.

­c hapter 3

Giles of Rome The beginnings of the Augustinian ideology started with Giles of Rome, who was writing before the oesa developed their identity as the true sons of their father Augustine in the course of the 1330s and 1340s.1 The Order’s new identity, as I have argued elsewhere, was crafted in the dual political contexts of the papal-​imperial conflict and that of the oesa’s fight to assert themselves as the original Order of Augustine over-​against the Augustinian Canons, in which, as stated above, Giles’s works were to be normative. Moreover, Giles’s works likewise predate the new Augustine scholarship beginning in the 1340s. Thus analyzing the role of Augustine in Giles’s political theology allows us not only to investigate the ideology of reception with respect to Giles, but also the ideological reception that was to be normative for the Order as it created its own identity some two to three decades after Giles’s death. Giles gave new meaning and new form to Augustine’s texts, which in the course of the 1340s the Order was to receive anew with a source erudition previously unmatched in the Middle Ages. 1

Brother Giles

Giles of Rome was the most influential theologian of the Augustinian Order in the later Middle Ages. Born c. 1245, Giles began study at Paris in 1260. Giles studied under Thomas Aquinas from 1269–​72 and lectured on the Sentences of Peter Lombard during the academic year 1272–​3. Giles achieved the magisterium in 1285, receiving his Order’s first chair in theology at Paris, and at the General Chapter of the oesa in Florence in 1287, Giles was named the Order’s theologian. Thereafter all theologians of the oesa were to teach according to the doctrines of Giles based on the works he had already written or would write. In 1292, Giles was elected Prior General of the oesa, an office he held until 1295 when he was appointed Archbishop of Bourges by Pope Boniface viii. Shortly thereafter, Giles became embroiled in the political conflict between Boniface and Philip iv of France, making a significant contribution 1 Balbino Rano argued that there is no evidence that members of the oesa considered their Order to be directly, or indirectly, descended from Augustine himself before 1308; Rano, The Order of St. Augustine, 20–​21.

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to late medieval political thought with his De renunciatione pape (1297) and De ecclesiastica potestate (1302), while he had already authored the most widely disseminated “mirror for princes” in the later Middle Ages, his De regimine principum (c. 1280), composed for Philip iv at the request of his father, Philip iii. Giles, however, supported Boniface against Philip in becoming, together with his confrère James of Viterbo, one of the foundational authors of late medieval hierocratic papal theory, and thereby established papal hierocratic theory as part of his Order’s platform. Giles’ political Augustinianism was an essential component of his theology as such and can only be extracted therefrom heuristically. Thus my treatment here of Giles’ works of political theology should be read as supplementing his theology in general.2 2

Giles’s Use of Augustine

Even before Pope John xxii designed Augustine as the “father, teacher, leader, and head” of Augustine’s true sons, Giles had claimed Augustine as the Order’s “father and teacher” whom the sons of Augustine were to imitate. Augustine, for Giles, as he preached in a sermon De sancto Augustino, combined the active and contemplative lives, which was to be imitated within the oesa.3 Giles’s devotion to Augustine was far more than academic. It was as a son of Augustine himself that Giles turned to Augustine as the major source for his theological works.4 If we are therefore seeking Giles’s political Augustinianism, we must first begin with his actual use of Augustine. It is then with this understanding that I begin with his first political work, his De regimine principum. 2.1 De Regimine Principum Giles’s De regimine principum, completed by 1280, confronts us with an enigma. In the entire work, consisting in the Venice 1498 edition of 131 double-​column folios, Augustine is cited only once. The only time we find even the name “Augustinus” is in book one, part 3, ­chapter 7, where Giles cites Augustine’s dictum iram transire in odium without reference simply as secundum Augustinum, a phrase he most likely cited via Peter Lombard’s Commentarius in Psalmos, though he might have also been referring to Augustine’s Regula.5 Either way it 2 3 4 5

See Saak, “The Theology of Giles of Rome, oesa,” 109–​181. Ibid., 112. See Saak, “Giles of Rome,” in oghra 2:1047–​1049. “In labiis vero sanctorum mors est, vel gladius, quo peccantes feriunt quasi irati bona est haec ira. Iniqua autem est illa, quae transit in odium.” Petrus Lombardus, Commentarius in

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does not reflect a deep or thorough knowledge of Augustine. Giles, however, was certainly not ignorant of Augustine. In the Reportatio of his lectures on the Sentences, dated most likely to 1270–​1272, well before the De regimine, Giles cited Augustine thirty-​three times, from eight different works, and his knowledge of Augustine is extensively demonstrated in his Ordinatio on book i of the Sentences, dating to 1275–​76. Yet in his Reportatio, in comparison to the 33 citations of Augustine, Giles cited Aristotle 136 times. Aristotle is likewise the overwhelming authority for the De regimine. The subject matter of De regimine, namely, a mirror for princes, certainly would not preclude citation of Augustine, and Ptolemy of Lucca relied repeatedly on Augustine’s De civitate dei for his De regimine principum.6 We can only conclude that Giles chose not to cite Augustine, even when explaining the morality of youth to the prince and how the prince should wait for marriage before engaging in the pleasures of the flesh, for which one would almost expect an Augustinian to make reference to the Confessions.7 How then are we to understand the absence of Augustine in Giles’s first political work? Interpreting the lack of Augustine in De regimine must be seen in context of Giles’s chosen authorities. His one citation to Augustine is one more than to any other Church father or even Christian author, and the same applies to Scripture. Giles did not cite Scripture a single time in the entire De regimine. And yet it is certainly the Christian prince whom Giles is addressing, for only the Christian law, he asserts, is free from all error and ignoring the teaching of the true faith results in grave danger.8 To treat this enigma as such and potentially solve it is far beyond the scope of this present chapter, but a clue to Giles’s approach is found in book 2, part 2, c­ hapter 5 where he explains that only the Psalmos Davidicos 30, 13 (pl 191, col.306A); “… ne ira crescat in odium.” Aug. reg. (Praeceptum) 6,1 (ed. Verheijen vol. 1, 433,194). 6 Ptolemy of Lucca, De regimine principum, trans. James M. Blythe, On the Government of Rulers: De regimine principum. Ptolomey of Lucca, with portions attributed to Thomas Aquinas (Philadelphia, 1997). 7 Aegidius Romanus, De regimine principum 1,4,2 (ed. Venice, 1498), 92b-​94a; hereafter cited as: Aeg.Rom. De reg. For present purposes, I have used a digitalized version of this edition in the Bibliteca de la Universidad de Sevilia, available online at the Internet Archive, Egidius de Regimine Principum: Aegidius Romanus (O.E.S.A.), 1243–​1316: Free Download, Borrow, and Streaming: Internet Archive. The Venice 1498 edition was published without pagination or foliation. The pagination here given is based on the digitalized pagination. 8 “Sola enim christiana lex est immunis ab omni erroris contagio.” Aeg.Rom., De reg. 2,2,5 (ed. Venice, 1498), 136b; “Debent ergo omnes cives solicitari circa proprios filios ut ab infantia instruantur in hac fide, tanto tamen hoc magis decet reges et principes: quanto ex fervore fidei ipsorum potest maius bonum consequi religio christiana et ex eorum tepiditate potest ei maius periculum imminere.” Ibid., 137a.

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learned clergy are able to teach the articles of faith and the subtleties relating to faith.9 The subtleties of faith, and even the articles of faith are not as such the subject of Giles’s treatment of how a prince should govern himself and his kingdom. It is sufficient to instruct the prince that he must be attentive to divine law for the common good and to ensure peace within his realm. Giles is not instructing the prince on Christian doctrine, but on governing the state, and thus there is no need to appeal to Scripture, nor to Augustine. For politics as such, Aristotle rules the day. Whether Giles’s later political works represent a dramatic shift in his political thought or indeed evidence some sort of continuity, is likewise a question beyond our present concerns. What remains is that Giles did not cite Augustine, when he certainly could have and certainly was able to have done so. There is no evident influence of Augustine in Giles’s De regimine, but then again, De regimine was not in Giles’s mind a work of political theology. 2.2 The Turning Point: De Renuntiatione Pape Approximately seventeen years after De regimine, Giles once again set his pen to a political work. The controversy between Boniface viii and Giles’s former royal student, Philip iv, had broken out in 1295 over Philip’s right to tax the French clergy. Boniface had denied that Philip had such a right in his bull Clericis laicos, which prompted a strong reaction by Philip to counter Boniface’s interference in internal French affairs. Philip found ready allies in his case against Boniface in the Colona at Rome, who stood opposed to Boniface largely it seems for reasons of Roman familial politics. In any event the Colonna Cardinals issued statements condemning Boniface as illegitimate, supporting Celestine v as the true pope, even though he had abdicated in 1294. Their argument was that the papacy was not an office that someone could simply resign, and thus Celestine was still pope, and consequently Boniface’s election was invalid. With mounting pressure coming from Philip iv, Boniface was in need of a defense to bolster his political position. This he received from Giles in his treatise De renuntiatione pape, in which Giles supported Celestine’s right to resign and consequently the legitimacy of Boniface’s papacy.

9 “Verumque distinctae articulos fidei cognoscere et subtiliter ea quesunt fidei pertractare spectat ad clericos doctores instruentes alios in ipsa fide que subtilem perscrutationem layci et maxime pueri scire non possunt.” Ibid.; “Debent ergo omnes cives solicitari circa proprios filios ut ab infantia instruantur in hac fide, tanto tamen hoc magis decet reges et principes: quanto ex fervore fidei ipsorum potest maius bonum consequi religio christiana et ex eorum tepiditate potest ei maius periculum imminere.” Ibid.

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Giles’s De renuntiatione stands in significant contrast to his De regimine regarding his reception of Augustine. Here Augustine is cited twenty-​three times, the third most frequently cited authority after Scripture, with 110 citations, and Canon Law, with thirty-​five. Aristotle is cited twenty-​one times. Giles cites De civitate dei, the Confessiones, De diversis questionibus octoginta tribus, the Enchiridion, De Genesi ad litteram, Tractatus in Iohannem, De trinitate, and the sermones, as well as two pseudo-​Augustinian works, the Speculum and a sermon de baptismo Christi. Giles gives book and chapter references for De civitate dei and De trinitate, and book references for the others. Thus Giles’ knowledge and use of Augustine in his De renuntiatione parallels that of his Reportatio, with the significant difference being that Giles gives a much greater priority to citing Augustine in comparison to Aristotle. In short, De renuntiatione is Giles’s first work of political theology and here we find a noted reliance on the authority of Augustine and a shift away from Aristotle toward Augustine with respect to textual authority. Augustine is not cited in the Colonna cardinal’s position pieces, so Giles was not responding to someone else’s use of authority, but putting Augustine forward himself to make his case. A similar appeal to Augustine is found in Giles’ most well-​known political work, his De ecclesiastica potestate, to which I now turn. 2.3 De Ecclesiastica Potestate Giles’s De ecclesiastica potestate is the most Augustinian of his political works. Augustine is cited 41 times, the second most frequently cited authority after Scripture with 197 citations. Giles cited Canon Law 26 times and Justinian’s Digest 3 times. Aristotle is cited 18 times. Giles cited eight different works of Augustine, with citations to De trinitate and De civitate dei the most often cited works, followed by De genesi ad litteram and the Confessions. In comparison to De renuntiatione, Augustine in De ecclesiastica potestate has surpassed Canon Law in the rank of Giles’s authorities. Moreover, while Aristotle is still a formidable authority for Giles, the Augustine/​Aristotle ratio in De ecclesiastica potestate is far more heavily weighted in favor of Augustine than in De renuntiatione. By 1302, Scripture and Augustine were Giles’s most heavily relied upon authorities for his political thought. This, though, perhaps comes as no surprise, since De ecclesiastica potestate has been seen not only as the most extreme formulation of papal hierocratic theory in the Middle Ages, but also as the treatise that established the political Augustinianism of the dominium gratie. Based on Augustine, Giles argued that only those who are in a state of grace, that is, in good standing with the Church, are legitimately able to hold property, which includes inheritance and

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even princely office.10 In effect, Giles made the standard medieval justification for papal interference in secular affairs, namely, in causa peccati, into the foundational general principle for lordship as such, based in part on De civitate dei 4:4.11 In tracing Giles’s development from De regimine to De ecclesiastica potestate, we note a significant shift in Giles’s authorities from Aristotle to Augustine, or in other words, Augustine plays an increasingly important role as Giles develops his political theology, moving from treating the governing ideals of the prince as such to the political theological position on the relationship between secular and spiritual powers.12 How then are we to account for this development? 3

Giles’s Political Theology

A first step toward answering this question is to recognize the emerging and developing political theology of Giles. Giles was in a difficult position when Boniface viii assumed the papacy in December of 1294. Giles had known Cardinal Benedict Gaetani before he became Boniface viii and had worked closely with him. Yet Giles was also rather close with King Philip iv of France, having composed his De regmine principum for Philip at the quest of Philip’s father, King Philip iii. Philip had granted the oesa land in Paris to establish a cloister and did so based on “our love for brother Giles.”13 Thus when conflict broke out between Boniface and Philip, Giles was forced to choose sides. He sided squarely with Boniface.14 Both Giles’s De renuntiatione pape and De ecclesiastica potestate were written for Boniface in the midst of fierce political ­conflict. Giles was no “arm chair” theologian. In turning his sights on the relationship between lay and clerical power, and the nature of the papacy itself, Giles, who had already established for his Order a platform for development and 10

Giles of Rome, De ecclesiastica potestate, 2,8, ed. R.W. Dyson, Giles’s of Rome’s On Ecclesiastical Power. A Medieval Theory of World Government. A Critical Edition and Translation (New York, 2004), 140–​152; trans. 141–​153; hereafter cited as: Aeg.Rom., de eccl. pot., with page numbers of the edition and translation in parenthesis. 11 Aeg.Rom., de eccl. pot. 1,5 (ed. Dyson, 22–​24; trans.23–​25); ibid., 3,2 (ed. Dyson, 284; trans. 285). 12 Cf. Roberto Lambertini, “Political Thought,” in Charles F. Briggs and Peter S. Eardley, eds., A Companion to Giles of Rome, (Leiden, 2016), 255–​274; 272–​273. 13 “… ob favorem potissimum dilecti et familiaris nostri fratris Egidii Romani eiusdem ordinis, sacre pagine professoris,” Chartularium Universitatis Parisiensis, ii, No. 583; See Saak, High Way to Heaven, 20. 14 Saak, High Way to Heaven, 20–​21.

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growth, added an Augustinian political theology to the Order’s developing ideology and identity, thereby rendering an Augustinian political Augustinianism as a central component of Augustinian theology as such. While we can categorize these two works as “political works” or as polemical works, or even as ecclesiological works, they are first and foremost theological works and they laid the foundation for the Order’s theology in general to be inherently political. 3.1 De Renuntiatione Pape Giles composed De renuntiate pape in mid to late 1297. The context was the abdication of Pope Celestine v and the consequent election of Boniface viii. Boniface had made enemies, and the Colonna cardinals asserted twelve arguments that Boniface’s election was not valid since it was impossible for a pope to resign.15 Since Celestine’s resignation was therefore illegitimate, Boniface’s election was so as well. Giles came to Boniface’s defense, providing Bonifce with the theological and legal justification for the validity of his papacy. And yet De renuntiate pape is relegated in Brill’s A Companion to Giles of Rome to “other works,” not included among the “political works,” which include simply De regimine and De ecclesiastica potestate.16 Such categorization reflects the general lack of attention De renuntiatione has received.17 A closer examination of the treatise demonstrates the near-​sightedness thereof. There is little question that De renuntiatione can be seen as a “polemical” work, in that Giles was entering into a contemporary political conflict on one given side. Yet if that is the only lens through which one views the work, one will miss the political theology therein. Giles does take as his point of departure the twelve articles against papal abdication, rather than an abstract, theoretical debate on papal power and the papacy as such. Yet such engagement should not render his arguments and positions mere political “spin,” denying the theological basis thereof. Indeed, we see here already the practical nature of theology for the Augustinians, or perhaps I should say the engaged theology of the Augustinians or the lived theology of the Augustinians, but these are

15 See Table 1 below. 16 Briggs and Eardley, A Companion to Giles of Rome, 280–​281. 17 See, for example, Lambertini, “Political Thought,” 265–​267. Lambertini does though note that Jürgen Miethke placed the work within “a much larger discussion about the nature of spiritual and temporal power,” and notes that for Giles “the papacy is the highest among the powers that govern men,” even as he claims that “The aim of this work leaves little room for the consideration of the relationship between the power of the pope and the temporal power.” Ibid, 265 and 267.

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issues to which we will return. Giles did not write his De renuntiatione as a papal pundit. He wrote it as an Augustinian master of theology, as the Archbishop of Bourges, who had previously served as the Prior General of his order. If there was a political agenda behind the work, it was not that of Boniface, but that of the oesa. Giles began his treatise with setting forth his reasons for writing it, his procedure, and then detailing the twelve positions he would refute:18 1. The papacy is from God alone; 2. No one is able to take authority and power away which they are not able to grant; 3. The deposition, translation, and absolution of bishops are reserved to the pope alone; 4. The highest created power (virtus) can be taken away by no other created power; 5. Neither the pope nor all of creation is able to make a priest not be a priest; therefore neither the pope nor all of creation is able to make the highest priest not the highest priest; 6. The pope is the pope by divine law; thus the pope cannot free himself from being pope; 7. No one is able to release one from a vow except for one who is higher than the vow; therefore only God can release a pope from his vow; 8. No one is able to absolve himself; abdication is a form of absolution; therefore the pope cannot absolve himself from being pope by means of abdication; 9. The papal obligation cannot be taken away except by a higher power; but only God is of higher power than the pope and therefore the pope cannot remove his own obligation; 10. No ecclesiastical dignity after having been legitimately conferred, can be taken away except by a higher power; but only God is of higher power than the pope; therefore only God can remove a pope’s dignity; 11. The Apostle proved that the priesthood of Christ is an eternal priesthood; since the pope is the vicar of Christ, the priesthood of Christ’s vicar is an eternal priesthood and no one can be absolved from that except by God; and 18

Aegidius Romanus, De renuntiatione pape 3, ed John R. Eastman (Lewiston, 1992, 148–​151; hereafter cited as:.Aeg.Rom. De renun. With page numbers to the edition given in parenthesis151). The positions that here follow are based on my summary and abbreviation of the arguments Giles presented, though at times my rendering is a direct translation of at least the major parts thereof.

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12. To claim that the pope could abdicate would be to deny the eternal priesthood of Christ and of Christ’s vicar, which would be to deny the truth of the scriptures; thus it is highly doubtful that the pope can abdicate. Each of these points were drawn, often word for word, from the first of three public statements issued by the Colonna Cardinals on May 11, 1297.19 Giles clearly had a copy on his desk. While there are a couple of discrepancies regarding numeration, Giles presented the positions of the Cardinals extremely faithfully, as seen in Table 1 below. Giles listed only twelve arguments, but then dealt with numbers thirteen and fourteen, as Giles himself explicitly referenced them, in Chapter 23.20 Giles though first had discussed truth and falsehood, and his method of procedure,21 which would include dividing his treatise into five parts. The first was to present the arguments of his opponents; the second would then refute those arguments; the third would then present additional material beyond the “falsehood” of the arguments that his opponents had asserted; the fourth then would refute the additional material; and then in the fifth and final part Giles would put forward arguments and reasons to support his position that the pope can indeed legitimately abdicate.22 Yet Giles devoted by far the majority of his treatise to Part 2: De renuntiatione pape—​Structure Ch. 1: Prologue in which is shown the necessity of composing this work Ch. 2: Organization of treatise

19

Heinrich Denifle, “Die Denkschriften der Colonna gegen Bonifaz VIII. und der Cardinäle gegen die Colonna, etc.” Archiv für Literatur-​und Kirchen Geschicte des Mittelalters, ed. Heinrich Denifle, O.P. and Franz Ehrle, S.J., vol. v (Vienna, 1889), 493–​529. 20 Aeg.Rom. De renun. 23 (ed. Eastman, 332–​341; 333). There are three separate texts edited by Denifle. The first contains fourteen positions, though Denifle only counted thirteen and edited them as such (Denifle, “Denkschriften,” 501), “Denkschriften,” 510–​512. 21 Aeg.Rom. De renun. 1–​2 (ed. Eastman, 139–​148). 22 “… hoc ordine procedemus in hoc tractatu, quia primo enarrabimus argument opposita huic veritati, quod papa renunciare potest. Secundo illa argumenta opposita dissolvemus. Tercio, quia adversarii preter falsitatem, quam asserunt, quod papa renunciare non potest, aliqua eciam alia plura superaddiderunt, ideo illa superaddita enunciabimus. Quarto hiis superadditis obviabimus, ex quibus omnibus destruetur falsitas. Quinto et ultimo faciemus argumenta et raciones ydoneas ad nostrum propositum, quod papa renunciare possit, ex quibus declarabitur veritas.” Aeg.Rom. De renun. 2 (ed. Eastman, 147–​148).

Giles of Rome209 table 1

Colonna positions and the list of Giles

Colonna cardinals

Giles

1. … quod papatus a solo Deo est, et que a Deo vel ab alio superiori comittuntutr, a nullo possunt inferiori removeri, et sic papalis potestas, que a solo Deo committitur, a nullo inferiori removeri posse videtur. 2. … nullus potest auctoritatem et potestatem aliquam spiritualem auferre, quam conferre non potest; sed auctoritatem papalem nullus conferre potest nisi Deus, ergo neque eam auferre: sed si teneret renuntiatio, auferretur papalis potestas, ergo renuntiatio non videtur fieri posse. 3. … quod depositio episcoporum, translatio eorum, et absolutio per cessionem soli pape est reservata, nec etiam ipsi conceditur, nisi in quantum papa quoddamodo Deus est, id est Dei vicarius …

Ratio prima: … quod papatus, ut dicunt, a solo deo est, sed que a deo vel ab alio superiori committunutr, a nullo possunt inferiori removeri; et sic papalis potestas, que a solo deo committitur, a nullo inferiori removeri posse videtur. Ratio secunda: … quia nullus potest auctoritatem et potestatem aliquam auferre, quam conferre non potest, sed auctoritatem papalem nullus conferre potest nisi deus, ergo neque eam auferre. Sed si teneret renunciacio, auferretur papalis potestas; ergo renunciacio non videtur fieri posse. Ratio tercia: … quod deposicio episcoporum, translacio eorum et absolucio eorum per cessionem soli pape est reservata nec eciam ipsi pape concederetur, nisi inquantum papa quodammodo deus est, id est dei vicarious … Ratio quarta: … quod summa virtus creata per nullum virtutem creatam videtur posse tolli. Sed papatus est summa potestas in creatura, ergo per nullam virtutem creatam tolli posse videtur. Ratio quinta: … quod nec papa nec tota creaturarum universitas potest facere, quod aliquis pontifex non sit pontifex. Ergo multo magis non videtur posse facere, quod summus pontifex non sit summus pontifex

4. … quod summa virtus creata per nullam virtutem creatam videtur posse tolli: sed papatus est summa potestas in creatura, ergo per nullam virtutem creatam tolli posse videtur. 5. … quod nec papa, nec tota creaturarum universitas potest facere quod aliquis pontifex non sit pontifex, ergo multo magis non videtur posse facere quod summus pontifex, non sit summus pontifex

210  table 1

Chapter 3 Colonna positions and the list of Giles (cont.)

Colonna cardinals

Giles

6. … quod papa non est papa nisi per legem divinam, et non per legem alicuius creature, nec omnium creaturarum simul, ergo nullo modo videtur quod papa possible eximi quin sit papa 7. … quod nullus potest tollere votum aliucius, seu ab ipso absolvere, nisi ille qui est supra votum: sed papatus est quoddam votum maximum supra omnia vota, nam vovet papa de facto ipsi Deo quod curam habebit universaliter gregis sui, totius scilicet universalis ecclesie, et quod de ipsis reddet rationem: ergo ab isto voto solus eum Deus absolvere posse videtur: ergo de papa nullus videtur posse fieri non papa, nisi tantummodo a solo Deo aliqua ratione: nullus enim alicui obligatus potest ab obligatione se ipsum absolvere, qua tenetur obnoxius, maxime superior obligatus: sed papa nullum habet superiorem nisi Deum, et per papatum se Deo obligavit, ergo a nullo posse videtur absolvi nisi a Deo. 8. … quod nullus videtur se ipsum absolvere posse, sed si valeret renuntiatio, videretur quod seipsum posset absolvere.

Sexta ratio: … quod papa non est papa nisi per legem divinam et non per legem alicuius creature nec omnium creaturarum simul. Ergo nullo modo videtur, quod papa possit eximi, quin sit papa. Ratio septima: … quod nullus potest tollere votum alicuius seu ab ipso absolvere nisi ille, qui est supra votum. Sed papatus est quoddam votum maximum super omnia vota. Nam vovet papa de facto ipsi deo, quod curam habebit universaliter gregis sui, tocius scilicet universalis ecclesie, et quod de ipsis reddet racionem. Ergo abo isto solum eum deus absolvere posse videtur. Ergo de papa nullus videtur posse fieri non papa, nisi tantummodo a solo deo aliqua racione. Nullus enim alicui obligatus potest ab obligacione seipsum absolvere, qua tenetur obnoxius, maxime superiori obligatus. Sed papa nullum habet superiorem nisi deum, et propter papatum se deo obligavit. Ergo a nullo posse videtur absolvi nisi a deo. Ratio octava: … quod nullus videtur seipsum absolvere posse, sed si valeret renunciacio, videretur, quod seipsum posset absolvere.

211

Giles of Rome table 1

Colonna positions and the list of Giles (cont.)

Colonna cardinals

Giles

9. … quod papalis obligatio non videtur posse tolli, nisi per maiorem potestatem quam papalis sit, sed nulla potentia creata est maior quam papalis, ergo fieri non potest per papam, nec per aliquid alius, nisi per Deum, ut qui semel est papa, non sit semper papa, dum vivit, ut videtur. 10. … quod nulla dignitas ecclesiastica post legitimam confirmationem potest tolli nisi per eius superiorem, sed papa solus est Deus maior, ergo a solo Deo tolli posse videtur. 11. … quod Apostolus vult et probat sacerdotium Christi esse eternum, et advivere in eternum in sacerdote, sequitur ipsum esse sacerdotem in eternum, ergo nullo modo potest esse vita summi pontificis et summi sacerdotis sine summo sacerdotio, ergo renuntiare non potest ut videtur.

Ratio nona: … quod papalis obligacio non videtur posse tolli nisi per maiorem potestatem, quam papalis sit. Sed nulla potencia creata est maior quam papalis. Ergo fieri non potest per papam nec per aliquid aliud nisi per deum, ut, qui semel est papa, non sit semper papa, dum vivit, ut videtur. Ratio decima: … quod nulla dignitas ecclesiastica post legitimam confirmacionem potest tolli nisi per eius superiorem, sed papa solus est deus maior, ergo a solo deo tolli posse videtur. Ratio undecima: … quod apostolus vult et probat sacerdocium Christi esse in eternum et advivere in eternum in sacerdotem, sequitur ipsum esse sacerdotem in eternum. Ergo nullo modo potest esse vita summi pontificis et summi sacerdotis sine summo sacerdocio, ergo renunciare non potest, ut videtur. Et nimis exraneum et a racione remotum apparet quod summus pontifex, qui est verus successor et vicarius Iesu Cristi, qui est sacerdos in eternum, possit absolvi ab alio quam ab ipso deo et quod quamdiu vixerit, non maneat summus pontifefx et quod aliquo modo possit esset vita summi sacerdotis sine summo sacerdocio, ut videtur.

212  table 1

Chapter 3 Colonna positions and the list of Giles (cont.)

Colonna cardinals

Giles

12. … quod si diceretur quod vita summi sacerdotis esset sine summo sacerdotio, argumentum Apostoli ubi dicit, secundum legem Mosaicam, plures facti sunt sacerdotes etc., penitus nullum videretur esse, sed falsitatem contineret …

Ratio duodecima: … quod, si diceretur, quod vita summi sacerdotis esse [possit] sine summo sacerdocio, argumentum apostoli, ubi dicit, secundum legem Mosaycam plures facti sunt sacerdotes etc., penitus nullum videretur esse, sed falsitatem contineret …

13. … quod esto quod renuntiatione ipsius multe fraudes et doli conditiones, et intendimenta et machinamenta, et tales, et talia intervenisse multipliciter asseruntur, quod esto quod posset fieri renuntiatio, de quo merito dubitatur, ipsam vitiarent, et redderent illegitimam inefficacem et nullam. 14. … quod esto quod renuntiatio tenuisset, quod nullo modo asseritur neque creditur, plura postea intervenerunt, que electionem postmodum subsecutam, nullam et inefficacem reddiderunt omnino.

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Part i Ch. 3: The Twelve Reasons Arguing that a pope cannot resign Part ii Ch. 4: How all power and especially ecclesiastical power is from God Ch. 5: How the five ways that show that all power is from God show that the pope is able to resign Ch. 6: The Refutation of the First Reason arguing that the pope cannot resign Ch. 7: The Refutation of the Second Reason arguing that the pope cannot resign Ch. 8: The Refutation of the Third Reason arguing that the pope cannot resign Ch. 9: The Refutation of the Fourth Reason arguing that the pope cannot resign Ch. 10: The Refutation of the Fifth Reason arguing that the pope cannot resign Part i: A character is not imprinted in the order of bishops Part ii: In the ordination of bishops, though a character is not imprinted, the perfection of a character is imprinted Part iii: How the episcopacy is an order and how it is not an order Part iv: What are the orders of bishops Part v: Beyond the simple episcopacy, a character is not imprinted, and neither is there a perfection of a character Part vi: That there is a spiritual marriage between a bishop and his church Part vii: What are the types of spiritual marriage and how they are able to be dissolved or not Part viii: If a simple priest is not able to cease being a simple priest, the highest priest nevertheless is able to cease being the highest priest Ch. 11: How reasons six through ten are to be understood and distinguished from each other Ch. 12: The Refutation of the Sixth Reason arguing that the pope cannot resign Ch. 13: The Refutation of the Seventh Reason arguing that the pope cannot resign Ch. 14: The Refutation of the Eighth Reason arguing that the pope cannot resign Ch. 15: The Refutation of the Ninth Reason arguing that the pope cannot resign Ch. 16: The Refutation of the Tenth Reason arguing that the pope cannot resign Part i: Preamble Part ii: Refutation Ch. 17: How the priesthood of Christ has no beginning and no end Ch. 18: Three additional ways how the priesthood of Christ is eternal Ch. 19: Three final ways how the priesthood of Christ is eternal Ch. 20: The Refutation of the Eleventh and Twelfth Reason arguing that the pope cannot resign

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Ch. 21: How under the priesthood of Christ all priests are able to be called one and the same priest Ch. 22: Special attention to refuting the last two reasons arguing that the pope cannot resign Part iii Ch. 23: Response to additional considerations beyond the twelve stated reasons (refutation of the Thirteenth and Fourteen reasons) Part iv Ch. 24: Arguments according to the four types of causes and according to authority that the pope is able to resign Part v Ch. 25: Conclusion Giles’s treatment of the twelve arguments of his opponents as detailed above can almost be read as a Questio ordinaria De potestate pape, just in a slightly different form. Giles did not as such use the questio (utrum, etc.), though did implicitly respond to the articles’ formulation of “it would seem” (ut videtur, etc.), in accepting the major premise of the arguments, while denying the minor premise and conclusion. Rather than stating the question and then giving the arguments pro (positively or negatively), followed by those contra, and then his responsio, Giles omitted the question and simply refuted the argument in a response. Only Chapters 1 and 23 are polemical, whereby Giles addressed the issue of Celestine’s abdication and Boniface’s election explicitly by name and the attempt of the Colonna to delegitimize Boniface; the rest are theological. Giles devoted the most space to refuting Reason Five (Neither the pope nor all of creation is able to make a priest not be a priest; therefore neither the pope nor all of creation is able to make the highest priest not the highest priest) and to Reasons Eleven and Twelve concerning the priesthood of Christ. The entire treatise can be seen as Gile’s treatment of the question of whether the pope is able to resign (Utrum papa renunciare possit?), whereby to answer such a question, Giles needed to address papal power as such (De potestate pape), even if not comprehensively. Rather, however, than going through in detail Giles’s response to each of the arguments individually, I will discuss the foundations of Giles’s position as extracted from his treatise in three points: the power of order; the power of jurisdiction, and papal power or the power of the pope. The distinction between the power of order and the power of jurisdiction is essential, since Giles explicitly argued that the problem with the opponents of

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Boniface is that they did not sufficiently distinguish the pope’s power of order from his power of jurisdiction.23 Only when a clear understanding of such a distinction is had, and one in light of the priesthood of Christ, can the true power of the papacy be understood, which, Giles argued, included the legitimate capacity to resign. 3.1.1 Potestas Ordinis The distinction between the power of order (potestas ordinis) and the power of jurisdiction (potestas iurisdictionis) goes back to the twelfth century canonists.24 The distinction applies to all priests, and is by no means simply one valid for the pope. A priest’s power of order is the power a priest has to function as a priest sacramentally, whereas a priest’s power of jurisdiction is the priest’s power to administer his parish. A priest receives his power of order sacramentally by means of his ordination, and it is that power that enables a priest to perform the sacraments, and particularly to consecrate the elements of bread and wine, transforming them into the real, physical body and blood of Christ. Thus we need to delve a bit more deeply into what such power entails and how it is conferred. Upon ordination to the priesthood, the priest receives more than simply a “promotion” within the ecclesiastical hierarchy and the grace accompanying the sacrament. In the sacrament itself, the priest receives not only an infusion of grace, but also an indelible imprint on his soul, a character. The Latin word character is the basis for our English word “character,” but the connotations are very different. In Latin, a character is the imprint of a seal in wax or clay. It is not the image that is impressed, but the impression itself, which alters the substance of the wax or clay. In terms of the sacramentally conferred character, the “wax” or “clay” is the human soul, whereby the character alters the ontological status of the soul. Once the soul is so impressed, it cannot be “unimpressed.” In other words, the character changes the soul and does so once and for all. It is this character, the ontological change in one’s soul, that confers upon the ordained priest the spiritual power of effecting the sacraments. Yet not all of the sacraments confer a character. There are only three that do so: baptism, confirmation, and ordination. As Giles put it:

23 24

“Propter quod patet, quod fundamentum adversariorum nostrorum et in hac parte adversariorum veritatis erat falsum et sophisticum, quia volebant loqui de hiis, que sunt iurisdictionis, tamquam de hiis, que sunt ordinis.” Aeg.Rom. De renun. 10,5 (ed. Eastman, 237). See Saak, High Way to Heaven, 74.

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… therefore we posit only a three-​fold character, namely the character of baptism, which is the spiritual power to receive spiritual things; the character impressed in confirmation, which is the spiritual power to spiritually resist and by spiritually resisting to bring the name of Christ into consciousness; and the character impressed in divine orders, which is the power of effecting spiritual things or of administering spiritual things.25 Infused grace too affects the ontological status of the soul,26 but does so differently than does the impression of a character, because infused grace can be lost, whereas the impression of a character is indelible and eternal. Thus a defrocked priest, even a heretical priest, if he has the true intention of consecrating the elements, can, though illegally, enter a church, and celebrate mass and his consecration would be valid, namely, the elements would be transubstantiated.27 This spiritual power, conferred by the character in ordination, thus distinguishes the clergy from the laity, for if the emperor himself tried to celebrate mass, and did so with the purest of intent, and did so impeccably, transubstantiation would not take place, precisely because the emperor had not received the character of ordination that makes the effecting of the sacraments possible. It was on this basis that Giles would in his De ecclesiastica potestate argue that the simple priest is ontologically higher than the emperor, even as Giles did not discuss the impression of the character in that work.28 Likewise, baptism confers the character that enables one to receive spiritual things, the ability of which remains, for even if a baptized individual falls away

25

“… ideo non ponimus nisi triplicem caracterem, videlicet caraceterem baptismalem, quis est potencia spirituali, ut possint spiritualia recipere, et caracterem impressum in confirmacione, qui est potencia spiritualis, ut possint spiritualiter resistere et spiritualiter resistendo possint nomen Christi in noticiam deducere, et caracterem impressum in ordinibus, qui est potencia spiritualia agendi vel spiritualia ministrandi.” Aeg.Rom. De renun. 10 (ed. Eastman, 215); cf. Aeg.Rom. De renun. 5 (ed. Eastman, 171). 26 Saak, High Way to Heaven, 398–​408. 27 “Dicemus enim, quod, sicut conficere corpus Cristi respicit caracterem sacerdotalem simpliciter, sed posse alios in sacerdotes ordinare respicit huiusmodi caracterem perfectum, sic quando simplex sacerdos quantumcumque degradatus vel eciam hereticus, dum tamen intendat facere, quod facit ecclesia, sine aliqua distinccione tenent communiter theologi, quod, si super materiam panis cum intencione conficiendi dicat verba, que sunt de forma consecracionis videlicet hoc est corpus meum, verum corpus Cristi conficit.” Aeg.Rom. De renun. 10,7 (ed. Eastman, 244–​245). The issue here is the efficacy of the sacraments ex opere operato, rather than ex opere operantis, which was the issue for the Donatist controversy, with Augustine arguing that the moral status of the priest does not affect the efficacy of the sacraments, which are works of God. 28 See below for Giles’s De ecclesiastica potestate.

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from the faith and from the church, that individual can still receive the grace of the sacraments should she or he repent and return, without having to be rebaptized. Once baptized, one is indelibly marked as Christ’s, even if not everyone who is baptized will be save. Yet without baptism, one cannot receive God’s grace. Confirmation, then, is the perfection of baptism, though the efficacy of baptism is not conditioned on its perfection in confirmation. In other words, baptism is efficacious and ontologically alters the soul, even if one does not “progress” to confirmation. Not being confirmed does not “undo” baptism, but being confirmed perfects it, even as it confers a new character. The sacrament of ordination to the priesthood not only confers grace, but also imprints on the ordinand’s soul the character which changes the ontological status of the ordinand’s soul, whereby after ordination, the ordained priest has the power to effect transubstantiation and the other sacraments and spiritualia.29 Yet a simple priest is not a perfected priest, just as an infant baptized is not confirmed, which perfects baptism. There are sacramental and spiritual acts that the simple priest, though ordained, cannot efficaciously perform. A simple parish priest cannot ordain others to the priesthood; a simple parish priest cannot consecrate a new church; and a simple parish priest cannot absolve princely sins. Such acts can only be efficaciously effected by a perfected priest, which, in Giles’s view, is a bishop. A bishop is, by definition, a perfected priest.30 However, Giles was explicit in arguing that in the ordination to the episcopacy, no character was conferred: “… although in the episcopacy a character is not imprinted, nevertheless, the perfection of the character is imprinted.”31 It would seem, therefore, that if baptism is perfected in confirmation, in which a character is imprinted on one’s soul, and if ordination to the episcopacy is the perfection of ordination to the priesthood, another character would therefore necessarily be conferred to perfect the character of ordination to the priesthood. Giles does not directly 29

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Baptism was an exception, in that in the case of necessity, a lay person could efficaciously baptize someone. Giles recognized this case while noting that this was based on God’s dispensation and was not the “normal” means, in that, though Giles did not clarify in such specifics, if a lay person baptized someone not in the case of emergency, the baptism would not be valid. In other words, a lay person could not simply go around baptizing people, though in a case of emergency, based on divine dispensation, such a lay baptism would be efficacious. Aeg.Rom., De renun. 10,6 (ed. Eastman, 238–​240). “Sed quod pretermisso sacerdocio non imprimatur nobis ordo episcopalis ex hoc veritatem habet, quia in sacerdocio imprimitur caracter sacerdotalis, qui caracter per ordinem episcopalem perficitur.” Aeg.Rom. De renun. 10 (ed. Eastman, 216–​217). “… quod in episcopatu non imprimatur caracter, imprimitur tamen ibi perfeccio caracteris.” Aeg.Rom. De renun., 10 (ed. Eastman, 213).

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address this apparent discrepancy, though he did argue that the character in confirmation is a distinct character from the character that is conferred in baptism, whereby in ordination to the episcopacy, a new character is not given, but rather such ordination is the perfection of the character conferred in ordination to the priesthood. Giles equated the character of ordination to that of being a male youth, whereby a male child is a non-​perfected man, which he becomes only when he can then father children himself; and thus a simple priest cannot himself ordain others to the priesthood, but once ordained as bishop, the new bishop does not receive new priestly powers, nor a new character, but his priestly powers and character are perfected, in that he can now ordain others to the priesthood, analogous to a male human being reaching physical maturity with respect to being able to procreate.32 In this light, confirmation is not as such the perfection of baptism, but imparts a completely new character, the capability of resisting evil and adhering to Christ. Baptism is complete and perfect in and of itself, whereas ordination has two parts, so to speak, the conferring of the character and then its perfection. Thus, the priestly office and the episcopal office are the same ontologically in that nothing more is needed for a priest to become a bishop, even as episcopal ordination perfects the priestly character, rendering a simple priest a perfected priest. Since a character effects the ontological status of the soul, it cannot be taken away, except by God. No human being, not even the pope, can remove a character once conferred, and this applies to the souls of the deceased as well, or to separated souls.33 Once baptized, one is always and forever baptized, and once confirmed, one is always and forever confirmed, and once ordained to the priesthood, one is always and forever ordained. Only God can effect a change in the ontological status of the soul, and thus the character that is 32

33

“Sed quod pretermissio sacerdocio non imprimatur nobis ordo episcopalis, ex hoc veritatem habet, quia in sacerdocio imprimitur caracter sacerdotalis, qui caracter per ordinem episcopalem perficitur. Nec videtur differencia inter sacerdotem et episcopum nisi illa, que est inter hominem puerum et hominem virum, quia homo vir est homo magnus et est homo perfectus, homo puer non est homo magnus nec est homo usquequaque perfectus.” Aeg.Rom. De renun. 10,1 (ed. Eastman, 216–​217); “Aliud est enim esse hominem, et aliud esse hominem, qui potest alios homines generare. Nam homo puer homo est, sed non est homo perfectus, hoc est homo, qui possit alios homines generare, non est factus homo alius, sed factus est homo perfectus. Sic sacerdos simplex sacerdos est, sed non est sacerdos, qui possit alios sacerdotes facere. Si ergo simplex sacerdos episcopetur, non impirmitur ei alia sacerdotalis potencia nec imprimitur ei alius caraccter, sed ille caracter sacerdotalis, quem habebat, perficitur, ut ex hoc fiat sacerdos perfectus et possit alios saceredotes facere.” Aeg.Rom. De renun. 10,2 (ed. Eastman, 220). “Ipse enim papa, nec ut vicarius dei nec aliquo modo potest huiusmodi caracterem vel perfeccionem caracteris tollere; sed solus deus hoc potest facere et sibi soli hoc reservavit

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imprinted, in baptism, confirmation, and ordination, cannot be removed by any human being, including the pope himself. The only human act that affects the imprinted character is the ordination of a bishop, in which the new bishop’s priestly character is perfected. The priestly character, which makes the consecration of the Eucharist possible, is then that which makes the power of order possible, namely, the power to consecrate the Eucharist and to perform the other sacraments. In essence, the power of order is the power of ordination. The Latin term ordo has many meanings and uses. In this specific case, ordo refers to ecclesiastical orders, though not as such to monastic orders. Giles explicitly defined ordo as “a certain power by which someone is dedicated to spiritual things.”34 To this extent, even the “lower orders,” such as deacons, subdeacons, and acolytes have a power of order, whereby in their ordination they received a seal of the power they receive by means of the ordination.35 In each ordination to holy orders, the ordinand receives a character that gives him the spiritual power and seal to effect his office.36 Yet all such orders are related to the celebration of the Eucharist, which is not only the end, in the sense of goal or purpose, of all such orders, but also of all the sacraments as such.37 Though Giles does not enter into a discussion of orders as such, based on his definitions we can then say too that in the sacrament of baptism the baptized enters the order of the laity (ordo laicus) and receives the character that allows the baptizand to receive God’s grace, which is indeed a certain spiritual power. In

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et nulli alio hoc concessit. … Sed si accipiatur istum spirituale coniugium quantum ad alium modum, videlicet non quantum ad iurisdictionem nec quantum ad usum potencie, sed solum quantum ad ipsam potenciam, que nichil est aliud quam caracter sacerdotalis perfectus, sic non solum vivente episcopo, sed eciam mortuo episcopo non tollitur tale coniugium, id est non tollitur ille perfectus caracter, in quo fundabatur tale coniugium. Nam et in anima separata remanet caracter et perfeccio caracteris. Sed notandum, quod in anima separata remanet caracter et perfeccio caracteris non quantum ad illud usum, qui erat ordines conferre vel corpus Cristi conficere, sed remanet quantum ad decorem et gloriam in beatis et quantum ad pudorem et ignominiam in dampnatis.” Aeg.Rom. De renun. 10,7 (ed. Eastman, 245–​246). “Advertendum ergo, quod, ut diximus, ordo non est nisi quedam potestas, qua quis ad spiritualia dedicatur.” Aeg.Rom. De renun. 10,3 (ed. Eastman, 224). “… quod ordo est signaculum quoddam, quo spiritualis potestas traditur ordinato.” Aeg. Rom. De renun. 10,3 (ed. Eastman, 222). “Nam omnes ordines habent suos caracteres distinctos …” Aeg.Rom. De renun. 10,1 (ed. Eastman, 217). “Omnes enim ordines accipiendi sunt, prout ordinantur ad eucaristie sacramentum, quia huiusmodi sacramentum est finis non solum omnium ordinum, sed eciam omnium sacramentorum …” Aeg.Rom. De renun. 10,3 (ed. Eastman, 223).

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confirmation, the confirmed receives a new character that confers a spiritual power of being able to adhere to Christ, but is not ordained into a new order. If one then becomes an acolyte or a deacon, one then receives new spiritual power and enter into a new order, by means of the conferred character. The spiritual power one receives by means of the order of acolyte or deacon is the spiritual power to assist a priest in the celebration of the mass, to which, as stated above, all the orders and sacraments are ordered, so to speak. If, though, one is ordained to the priesthood, one receives a new character, which confers the spiritual power on the newly ordained priest to consecrate the elements, and thus has entered a new order, namely the priestly order (ordo sacerdotalis). The question then is whether upon election and installation as a bishop, one receives a new order? Giles had already established that no new character is conferred in the ordination of a bishop, but rather episcopal ordination is the perfection of the character conferred in ordination to the priesthood. Is though such ordination, ordination into a new ecclesiastical order? In exemplary scholastic fashion, Giles answered this question with a “yes” and a “no,” depending on what is meant by the term “order.” Giles posited that there are eight orders in the ecclesiastical hierarchy: bishops, priests, deacons, subdeacons and four lower orders, which though Giles does not list, namely, the acolytes, the exorcists, the readers and the porters.38 The question, then, of whether the episcopacy is indeed a distinct order is based on whether other spiritual power or potential is conferred upon bishops than in the other seven orders.39 These orders, however, are not necessarily successive, whereby one by necessity must progress from the lowest to the highest. Since each of the orders has their own character, “one order,” Giles clarified, “is able to be received without another and one is able to be ordained passing over the lower orders.”40 In other words, one can be ordained into the priesthood without having first to be ordained as a deacon, an acolyte or a reader, even though one cannot be confirmed without having first been baptized. The character conferred in baptism is prerequisite to receiving the character conferred in confirmation, but the character confirmed in ordination to the order of acolytes is not prerequisite

38 Aeg.Rom. De renun. 10,3 (ed. Eastman, 225). 39 “Quere ergo, utrum episcopatus sit per se ordo distinctus ab aliis ordinibus, est querere, utrum in ordine episcopali imprimatur alia spiritualis potencia ab omnibus aliis septem ordinibus.” Aeg.Rom. De renun. 10,3 (ed. Eastman, 224). 40 “Nam omnes ordines habent suos caracteres distinctos, ut possit unus ordo sine alio recipi et possit quis per saltum ordinari.” Aeg.Rom. De renun. 10,1 (ed. Eastman, 217).

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to receiving the character conferred in ordination to the priesthood. The character conferred in baptism is though the foundational prerequisite for receiving all others. Likewise, one cannot be ordained a bishop without having been ordained a priest, because there is no new character conferred in the ordination of a bishop, but simply the perfection of the character conferred in ordination to the priesthood.41 To this extent, the episcopacy is not a distinct order: “The episcopacy,” Giles affirmed, “which is above the priesthood, is not an order, as we are discussing ‘order’ here, but is a dignity or office.”42 It all depends on what is meant by ordo, because as such, the episcopacy is not an order because it does not confer a new character. However, a bishop can do things a simple priest cannot, and indeed, the work of a priest is made possible by the spiritual power of a bishop,43 precisely because a bishop is a perfected priest, or stated the other way around, a priest is an imperfect bishop, and thus a bishop has spiritual power to do that which a simple priest cannot.44 Thus, Giles clarified, “The episcopacy therefore is not as such an order, because in and of itself it does not confer a character, but it is in and of itself an order in the sense that it confers the perfection of a character.”45 And to this extent, a bishop’s power of order is greater than that of a simple priest, even if with respect to the imprinting of a character, and with respect to the sacrament of the Eucharist, “there is

41

“… primo, quod pretermisso baptismo nullus ordo potest recipi; secundo notavit, quod pretermissis omnibus minoribus ordinibus sacer ordo non confertur; tercio quidem dicit, quod pretermisso sacerdocio episcopalis ordo non datur. Primum quidem, quod pretermisso baptismo non confertur aliquis ordo, et tercium, quod pretermisso sacrerdocio non confertur ordo episcopalis, vera sunt, sed ob aliam et aliam causam. Nam in baptismo confertur caracter, quis est potencia receptiva, per quam sumus apti ad recipiendum alios caracteres. Ideo si illo caractere et illa potencia careamus, caracteres ordinis non poterimus recipere. Sed quod pretermisso sacrerdocio non imprimatur nobis ordo episcopalis ex hoc veritatem habet, quia in sacerdocio imprimitur caracter sacerdotalis, qui caracter per ordinem episcopalem perficitur.” Aeg.Rom. De renun. 10,1 (ed. Eastman, 216–​217). Giles here was drawing on Huguccio, Summa, ad D. 52. Giles disagreed with Huguccio regarding his second point, namely, that one had to be ordained into at least one of the lower orders in order to be ordained into the priesthood: “Sed illud secundum notabile, quod non recipiatur sacer ordo, nisi prius recipiatur aliquis de minoribus ordinibus, falsum est. Nam omnes ordines habent suos caracteres distinctos, ut possit unus ordo sine alio recipi et possit quis per saltum ordinari.” Aeg.Rom. De renun. 10,1 (ed. Eastman, 217). 42 “Episcopatus itaque, qui est supra sacerdocium, non est ordo, ut hic de ordine loquimur, sed est dignitas vel officium.” Aeg.Rom. De renun. 10,3 (ed. Eastman, 223). 43 Aeg.Rom. De renun. 10, 2 (ed. Eastman, 221). 44 Aeg.Rom. De renun. 10,3 (ed. Eastman, 225). 45 “Episcopatus itaque non est per se ordo, quod secundum se imprimat caracterem, sed est per se ordo, prout per se imprimit perfeccionem caracteris.” Aeg.Rom. De renun. 10,3 (ed. Eastman, 225).

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no order greater than the order of priesthood.”46 This distinction is important to grasp because for Giles, the power of order culminates in the power of the episcopacy as the perfection of the order of the priesthood. With regard to the ecclesiastical hierarchy, those levels above the episcopacy have nothing to do with the power of order (potestas ordinis), but such levels, even within the episcopacy, are determined only by the power of jurisdiction (potestas iurisdictionis).47 And Giles’s understanding of the power of jurisdiction and how it relates to the power of order formed the central tenet of his argument that the pope is able to resign. 3.1.2 Potestas Jurisdictionis The central discussion of Giles’s treatment of the power of order and the power of jurisdiction is in Chapter Ten of his treatise, in which he refutes the fifth argument of the Colonna, which is again: “Neither the pope nor all of creation is able to make a priest not be a priest; therefore neither the pope nor all of creation is able to make the highest priest not the highest priest.” Giles had asserted that what makes a priest a priest is the character conferred in ordination that affects the ontological status of the ordinand’s soul. To this extent, the major premise of the Colonna argument is valid, in that once a priest, no one in all of creation can remove that character, which remains on the soul of the priest even after death. However, Giles had also asserted that beyond the order of the episcopacy, all further ecclesiastical offices are offices based on the power of jurisdiction, not on the power of order, since the episcopal order is the highest order within the ecclesiastical hierarchy. The papacy, therefore, is an office of jurisdiction. As Giles asserted: But because on this basis the entire matter of this present issue depends greatly, since those things that are related to the power of order are not able to be taken away nor to cease, though those things that are related to the power of jurisdiction are able to be taken away or are able to cease, therefore we want to declare more thoroughly how in the papacy beyond the simply episcopacy neither a character nor the perfection of a

46 47

“… quod respectu sacramenti eucaristie nullus sit maior ordo quam sacerdotalis.” Aeg. Rom. De renun. 10,3 (ed. Eastman, 225). “… ea tamen, que supra episcopum sunt, solam iurisdictionem nominant.” Aeg.Rom. De renun. 10,5 (ed. Eastman, 231).

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character is conferred, but the full jurisdiction of power is acquired only on this basis.48 As Giles asserted, “papal power in this sense is said to be based neither on a character, nor on the perfection of a character, but only on jurisdiction.”49 The power of jurisdiction, therefore, is that which makes the pope the pope, and is the basis on which the pope can, or cannot, resign. Thus we need to address Giles’s discussion of the power of jurisdiction. The power of jurisdiction was relevant to all ecclesiastical offices, at least for the priesthood and above. As stated above, a priest’s power of jurisdiction was the power and authority to administer his parish, and that of a bishop was to administer his diocese. It was the power of jurisdiction, not the power of order, that distinguished the hierarchy within the episcopacy, for as Giles asserted, “nevertheless, those things that are above a bishop are based only on jurisdiction.”50 Giles, based on Peter Lombard’s Sentences, distinguished four “orders” of bishops: bishops, archbishops, metropolitans, and patriarchs.51 The distinction, though, between archbishops and metropolitans is rather vague, and Giles essentially equated the two. An archbishop is a “prince of bishops,” whereas a metropolitan is the “measure of a city.” Yet since a “prince of bishops” is “the measure of the cities under his authority,” Giles claimed he would consider the two as the same.52 Giles likewise equated patriarchs and primates, though claimed that there are greater patriarchs and lesser patriarchs, 48

49 50 51

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“Verum quia ex hoc dicto multum dependet tota materia presentis negocii, quia ea, que sunt ordinis, non possunt tolli nec desinere esse, ea vero, que sunt iurisdiccionis, tolli possunt vel desinere esse, ideo volumus perfeccius declarare, quomodo in papatu ultra episcopatum simplicem non imprimatur caracter nec perfeccio caracteris, sed solum ex hoc acquiritur plena iurisdiccio potestatis.” Aeg.Rom. De renun. 10,5 (ed. Eastman, 233). “Ergo huiusmodi papalis potestas nec dicit caracterem nec perfeccionem caracteris, sed solam iurisdiccionem.” Aeg.Rom. De renun. 10,5 (ed. Eastman, 234). “… ea, tamen, que supra episcopum sunt, solam iurisdiccionem nominant.” Aeg.Rom. De renun. 10,5 (ed. Eastman, 231). “Quoniam ostensum est, quod secundum unum modum accipiendi episcopus est nomen ordinis, ideo volumus distinguere, quot sunt ordines episcoporum. Dicit autem magister quarto Sentenciarum distinccione XXIII, quod ordo episcoporum quadripartitus est, in patriarachis, archiepiscopis, metropolitanis et episcopis.” Aeg.Rom. De renun. 10,4 (ed. Eastman, 226). Cf. Lombard, iv Sent. 24,17. “Dicitur enim archiepiscopus quasi princeps episcoporum. Dicitur autem metropolitanus quasi mensura civitatis, archos quidem idem est quod princeps, et metrum idem est quod mensura, ut idem magister in eadem distinccione exponit. Et quia princeps episcoporum debet regulare et mensurare civitates suffraganeorum, que sunt sub ipso, ideo pro eodem accipiemus archiepiscopum et metropolitanum.” Aeg.Rom. De renun. 10,4 (ed. Eastman, 227).

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whereby the greater patriarchs are called patriarchs, and the lesser simply primates. A patriarch is “the highest of the the fathers,” and on this basis, there is only one highest father, namely, the pope.53 Giles thus transformed the four-​ fold episcopacy according to Lombard into another four-​fold division, namely, that of 1. Simple bishops; 2. Archbishops or metropolitans; 3. Patriarchs and primates; and 4. The Roman Pontifex. And, as he had already asserted, the distinctions between these four were not based on the power of order, but purely on the power of jurisdiction. Giles then related the jurisdiction of the ecclesiastical hierarchy to the various levels of community, drawn from Aristotle and Giles’s own De regimine principum. There are, Giles argued, six levels of community: the household, the village, the city, the province, the kingdom, and the entire world.54 The household and village are governed by the parish priest; a city is governed by a bishop; a province by an archbishop; and a kingdom by a primate or patriarch. The pope then has ecclesiastical jurisdiction over the entire world.55 In the time of the old Law, the Mosaic Law, only the Jews, or those who converted to Judaism, could be saved, but because the evangelical Law was given not simply to a single people, but to the entire world, the Church encompasses the entire world and thus all people are held to adhere to the evangelical Law whereby there is no salvation outside the Church, and therefore all people are held to be obedient to the Gospel and thus to be under the highest pontiff, the pope,

53

“Sed nos distinguemus de patriarchis. Est enim patriarcha … idem quod sumus patrum. Et quia, quod per subhabundanciam dicitur, uni soli convenit, ideo sequendo ethymologiam nominis non est in ecclesia nisi unus summus patrum, videlicet Romanus pontifex. Distinguemus ergo Romanum pontificem ab omnibus aliis. Patriarchis ergo alios associabimus ipsis primatibus, ut dicamus, quod idem sit esse primatem et patriarcham. Sed quia inter ipsos primates aliqui sunt maiores dignitatis, aliqui minoris, illi, qui sunt maioris dignitatis, dicti sunt patriarche, illi, qui sunt minoris, retinuerunt sibi nomen commune et vocati suntn primates. Pro eodem ergo possumus accipere primatem et patriarcham.” Aeg.Rom. De renun. 10,4 (ed. Eastman, 226). 54 “Possumus autem, quantum ad presens spectat, assignare sex genera communitatum, secundum que sex genera communitatum accipientur quatuor gradus sive quatuor ordines episcoporum. Dicemus quidem, quod ex pluribus personis fit prima communitas, que dicitur communitas domus; secundo, ex pluribus domibus fit communitas vici; tercio, ex pluribus vicis fit communitas civitas; quarto, ex pluribus civitatibus et ex pluribus castris fit comunitas provincie; quinto, ex pluribus provinciis fit communitas regni; ultimo, ex pluribus regnis fit communitas tocius mundi sive tocius orbis.” Aeg.Rom. De renun. 10,4 (ed. Eastman, 228). Eastman gives the reference to Aeg.Rom. De regmine principum 3,1,1; cf. Arist. Pol. I, 2. 55 Aeg.Rom. De renun. 10,4 (ed. Eastman, 228–​229).

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who has jurisdiction over the entire world.56 Without such obedience, one “is not able to live justly or to be just or to continue on the path to salvation.”57 In short, what makes the pope the pope is the pope’s power of jurisdiction, for based on the power of order, the pope is equal to all other bishops. Based on this distinction, Giles then argued that if one who was not a pontiff was elected to the papacy, he would have the full jurisdiction and authority of the papacy, yet could not be the highest priest, because he would not, or not yet be a priest.58 Nevertheless, “one elected to the papacy, if he was not a priest, would have all jurisdiction that is able to pertain to the pope, but would have nothing of that which applies to the priestly order nor to the episcopal order.”59 In other words, there could be a lay pope, who would truly be pope, though would not be the highest priest, since he would not be a priest at all. In effect, Giles distinguished the papacy from the episcopal See of St. Peter. There could be a pope who would truly be pope, who was not the Bishop of Rome, nor as such, the successor of Peter. This was the furthest step in papal hierocratic theory that Michael Wilks attributed to Giles’s younger confrere, Augustinus of Ancona.60 However, while Augustinus did develop the idea beyond Giles’s treatment, we find it first here in Giles’s De renuntiatione. 3.1.3 Potestas Pape Based on the power of jurisdiction, the pope has jurisdiction over the entire world, whereby the pope “can be judged by no one,”61 and is responsible for governing the entire Church as the head of the Church universal.62 At issue 56 Aeg.Rom. De renun. 10,4 (ed. Eastman, 227–​228). 57 “Quantum est ergo de iure, ecclesia occupat totum mundum: quia de iure omnes deberent obedire evangelio, omnes deberent esse sub summo pontifice. Illud enim teneutr de iure quisque agere, sine quo non potest iuste vivere vel sine quo non potest iustus esse vel sine quo non potest salutem consequi. Extra enim ecclesiam non est salus.” Ibid. 58 “Sed dices, quod ille, qui non est pontifex, potest habere plenam iurisdiccionem et auctoritatem summi pontificis, sicut habet papa electus, antequam ordinetur in episcopum. Tamen, licet possit non pontifex habere iurisdiccionem summi pontificis, nullus tamen est summus pontifex, nisi sit pontifex.” Aeg.Rom. De renun. 10,1 (ed. Eastman, 213). 59 “Et exinde est, quod electus in papam, si non sit sacerdos, omnem iurisdiccionem habet, que potest pertinere ad papam. Sed nichil habet de hiis, que sunt ordinis sacerdotalis, nec de hiis, que sunt ordinis episcopalis.” Aeg,Rom. De renun. 10,8 (ed. Eastman, 251). 60 Michael Wilks, The Problem of Sovereignty in the Later Middle Ages. The Papal Monarchy with Augustinus Triumphus and the Publicists (Cambridge, 1963), 406; Saak, High Way to Heaven, 83. 61 “Ex hiis itaque manifeste patet, quod summus pontifex a nullo iudicari debet …” Aeg. Rom. De renun. 9 (ed. Eastman, 210). 62 “… ordinare totam ecclesiam et statuere, qui sunt episcopi, qui archiepiscopi, qui primates et patriarche, et statuere, quomodo hii confirmentur et quomodo possint cedere

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with the Colonna was whether or not the pope had the power to resign, and based on the papacy being based on the power of jurisdiction, Giles repeatedly answered in the affirmative, whereby his treatise On the Resignation of the Pope (De renuntiatione pape) is accurately described as a treatise On the Power of the Pope (De potestate pape). Or in other words, to answer the question of whether the pope can resign, Giles needed to treat the power of the pope as such, a power based purely on the pope’s power of jurisdiction. For Giles, papal power was based on the power of Christ. Christ ruled his Church as priest and king, for Christ was king after the order of Melchizedek.63 As such, the priesthood of Christ is eternal, with no beginning and no end. This was the basis for arguments eleven and twelve of the Colonna, whereby since Christ’s priesthood was eternal, the pope, as the highest priest, could not resign.64 Giles certainly agreed that Christ’s priesthood is eternal, and presented “many ways” indeed that that is the case. What that entails then is that Christ had always been and will always be mediator for humans, and the means by which humans can be saved, for, Giles argues, “no one, neither before the advent of Christ nor after the advent of Christ was able nor will be able to gain salvation without faith in the mediator … and whoever is saved from the beginning of the world to now and whoever will be saved until the end of the world are saved in the faith of the mediator.”65 Christ was the predestined means of salvation,66 whereby “the faith of the ancients and our faith is one, because just as they believed that Christ would come, so we believe that Christ has come.”67 Thus the priesthood of Melchizedek was the figure of the priesthood vel quomodo possint absolvi vel transferri, spectat ad solum Bonifacium, quia, cum ipse solus sit caput tocius universalis ecclesie, ad ipsum spectat statuere ea, que respiciunt ordinem universalis ecclesie, ideo omnia ista sunt supra naturam negocii aliorum, supra accionem omnium aliarum dignitatum, supra condicionem et exigenciam rerum.” Aeg. Rom. De renun. 8 (ed. Eastman, 196). 63 Aeg.Rom. De renun. 17 (ed. Eastman, 295–​299). 64 “Quoniam due ultime adversariorum raciones, undecima videlicet et duodecima, fundant se super eternitate sacerdocii Christi—​arguentes, quod, quia Christi sacerdocium et eternum, ideo papa renunciare non potest …” Aeg.Rom. De renun. 17 (ed. Eastman, 295); cf. Denifle, “Denkschriften,” 512. 65 “Nam nullus nec ante adventum Cristi nec post eius adventum potuit salutem consequi sine fide mediatoris. … Et quicumque salvati sunt a principio mundi usque nunc et quicumque salvabuntur usque in finem, oportet quod in fide mediatoris salventur.” Aeg.Rom. De renun. 17 (ed. Eastman, 296–​297). 66 “… quia ab eterno fuit predestinatum tale remedium.” Aeg.Rom. De renun. 17 (ed. Eastman, 297). 67 “Et idem ibidem subdit [scil. Augustinus], quod una est fides antiquorum et nostra, quia sicut illi credebant Cristum venturum, ita nos credimus ipsum venisse.” Aeg.Rom. De renun. 17 (ed. Eastman, 296); Aug. civ. 18,47.

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of Christ in the sense that the priesthood of Christ preceded the priesthood of Melchizedek and was the cause thereof, rather than the other way around. Indeed, the Jews received the priesthood from the Gentiles since Melchizedek was made priest before circumcision. The reality of Christ’s priesthood was thus the basis for the reality in time of the Levitical priesthood, rather than the Levitical priesthood pre-​figuring the priesthood of Christ to come.68 The eternity of Christ’s priesthood means not only that there was no beginning and no end to Christ’s priesthood, but also that there is no “before” or “after,” since Time is the succession of one thing following another, but there is no such succession in eternity.69 In other words, though Giles did not use this term, the priesthood of Christ for Giles is atemporal, following Augustine in this sense, meaning it is outside of Time. In this light, the priesthood of Christ was the basis for all temporal priesthood, that of Melchizedek, the Levitical priesthood, and the Christian priesthood. Christ was both human and divine and the communicatio idiomatum, the simultaneity of Christ’s two natures,70 is the key to understanding the relationship between the eternal priesthood of Christ and the human priesthood. As a human, Christ suffered and died, but this same human was also God, who had created the stars and was immortal.71 As a human living in time on earth, Christ was both mortal and immortal, in that Christ’s time living on 68

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“… quia Melchesidech fuit functus sacerdocio ante circumcisionem, ut ex hoc ostendatur, ut glosa ait, quod Iudei a gentibus, non gentes a Iudeis sacerdocium acceperunt. In quo figuratur sacerdocium Cristi, quia non est res propter figuram nec a figura, sed magis figura propter rem et a re originem sumit et omnia in figura contingebant illis. Sacerdocium ergo Leviticum fuit propter sacerdocium Cristi, non autem econverso, et sacerdocium Cristi magis fuit causa sacerdocii Levitici quam econverso.” Aeg.Rom. De renun. 17 (ed. Eastman, 298). “Tempus enim quid successivum et una pars succedit alteri; sed in eternitate nulla est successio, sed est ibi insuccessibilitas, quia nichil est in ea, quod succedat alteri.” Aeg. Rom. De renun. 18 (ed. Eastman, 301); cf. Aeg.Rom. De renun. 19 (ed. Eastman, 309). “Sed dices, nonne Cristus fuit homo mortalis et pro nobis passus, mortuus et sepultus? Respondebimus, quod sacerdotes Levitici erant simpliciter mortales, sed Cristus erat mortalis et immortalis. Erat enim unum suppositum et una persona, que erat homo et deus. Ergo propter unitatem suppositi et persone erat in Cristo secundum Damascendum et secundum sanctos communicacio ydiomatum, id est communicacio nominum vel denominacionum, quia nomina seu denominaciones, que illi homini inerant, poterant vere dici de deo, et econverso.” Aeg.Rom. De renun. 18 (ed. Eastman, 302). “Ut, quia homo ille paciebatur et fuit mortuus, cum homo ille esset deus et dei filius, vere dici poterat, quod dei filius paciebatur et dei filius fuit mortuus, sic, quia dei filius erat immortalis et dei filius creavit stellas, vere dici poterat, quoa homo ille erat immortalis et quod creavit stellas, sed non in eo, quod homo, sed in eo, quod deus, quia ille homo deus erat.” Aeg.Rom. De renun. 18 (ed. Eastman, 303).

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earth had a beginning and an end, even as Christ as God pre-​existed his life on earth, whereby there was a beginning and an end to Christ’s life on earth, even as Christ, as fully God and as fully human, was simultaneously eternal and divine. Even as the Levitical priesthood prefigured the priesthood of Christ, it was, as stated above, for Giles based on the priesthood of Christ, even as the Levitical priests were purely human.72 The priesthood of Christ, though, was and remains an eternal reality, whereby Christ remains both the offerant, the offering, and the effect of that which is offered. Thus there is only one priesthood, the priesthood of Christ, whereby Christ remains the officient who offers, that which is offered, and the effect of that which is offered.73 When a priest pronounces the words of institution, This is my body, he is speaking not about his own body, but about the body of Christ, whereby Christ is the one offering his own body, whereby every priest speaks such words not in his own person, but in the person of Christ.74 Thus the priesthood of Christ is a single eternal priesthood, whereby Christ is the one making the offering, that which is offered, and the effect of that which is offered,75 and thus this priesthood is 72

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“Fuit enim simul in unum dives et pauper, homo et deus, mortalis et immortalis. Sacerdocium itque Cristi ex parte sacredotis offerentis poterat dici esse eternum, quia persona illa, que offerebat, erat persona Cristi, que erat persona eterna, et homo ille erat deus et poterat dici eternus. Sed sacerdotes Levicitis simpliciter erant mortales et non poterant dici eterni, cum essent homines puri.” Aeg.Rom. De renun. 18 (ed. Eastman, 303). “Sciendum ergo, quod sub sacerdocio Cristi omnes sacerdotes possunt dici unus sacerdos propter tria: primo racione oblacione, secundo racione rei oblate, tercio racione ­commenoraciones sive annunciacionis. Primo quidem omnes sacderdotes sunt unus sacerdos racione oblationis, quia omnes offerunt in persona unius sacerdotis et omnes conficiunt in persona unius sacerdotis, id est in persona Cristi.” Aeg.Rom. De renun. 21 (ed. Eastman, 321). “Constat autem, quod corpus, quod conficit sacerdos, non est corpus ipsius sacerdotis, sed est corpus Cristi. Ergo cum quilibet sacerdos conficiendo dicat: Hoc est corpus meum et illus non sit corpus suum, sed sit corpus Cristi, ergo nullus sacerdos, cum conficit, loquitur in persona sua, sed quilibet loquitur in persona Cristi. Ergo cum conficiunt offerendo et conficiendo corpus Cristi, omnes dicuntur unus sacerdos, quia omnes induunt personam unius sacerdotis, idest Cristi.” Aeg.Rom. De renun. 21 (ed. Eastman, 321). “… sub sacerdocio Christi dicuntur omnes sacerdotes esse unus sacerdos non solum racione rei efferentis, sed eciam racione rei oblate, quia omnes offerunt unam et eandem rem, videlicet verum corpus Cristi. Non autem sic in sacerdocio Levitico, quia non offerebant ipsam rem nec ipsum verum corpus Cristi … Constat autem, quod res ipsa in se non est nisi una et eadem, sed unius et eiusdem rei possunt esse multe figure … Sed sub sacerdocio Cristi multi sacerdotes, immo omnes sacerdotes et racione rei offerentis et racione rei oblate sunt unus et idem sacerdos, quia omnes offerunt in persona unius Cristi et omnes offerunt unum et idem corpus Cristi, non solum idem et unum specie, sed eciam idem et unum numero. Omnes enim sacerdotes offerunt et omnes conficiunt illud idem corpus numero, quod Cristus traxit de virgine, quod fuit elevatum in cruce, quod resurrexit

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indeed eternal and cannot be abdicated or cannot cease to be. Christ’s eternal priesthood remains, as the single priesthood, in which all individual purely human priests participate. Giles was arguing here against the Colonna argument that since the priesthood of Christ is eternal, a pope cannot resign or abdicate, based too on the words of Paul that Christ’s priesthood is an eternal priesthood after the order of Melchizedek.76 Giles replied in very strong terms that indeed the priesthood of Christ is eternal, and he elaborated at length on the extent to which that is indeed the case. His argument, though, was that Paul was explicitly referring to the eternal priesthood of Christ, and not to the jurisdiction of the purely human office:77 “the words of the Apostle,” Giles asserted, “directly refer to the eternity of the priesthood not with respect to some purely human priest, but only with respect to the person of Christ.”78 With respect to purely human priests, such as the Levitical priesthood and the Christian priesthood, there can indeed be many priests, one following another, but this succession does not refer to the eternal priesthood of Christ, which remains one, in which all individual purely human priests participate. In this light, such purely human priesthood refers to the extent of a priest’s jurisdiction, not to that of his ordination, by which he consecrates the elements in the person of Christ. Thus, a purely human priest lives and dies, just as Christ, in his time on earth, lived and died, but whereas Christ, even in his time on earth, remained fully human and fully divine, a human priest is purely human, and thus one priest succeeds another, and one bishop succeeds another, and one pope succeeds another, even as the priesthood as such remains eternal, without succession. In one sense every priest can be seen as the successor and vicar of Christ, but this is only with respect to the power of ordination, for otherwise, there would be multiple Christs, which is impossible.79 Based on the eternal priesthood of Christ, the power of the papacy is eternal, even as individual pope’s come and go, one following the other.

a mortuis et cum quo Cristus ascendit in celum.” Aeg.Rom. De renun. 21 (ed. Eastman, 321–​322). 76 Denifle, “Denkschriften,” 512. 77 Aeg.Rom. De renun. 22 (ed. Eastman, 325–​326). 78 “… verba Apostoli de eternitate sacerdocii directe non respiciunt aliquem hominem purum, sed solam personam Cristi.” Ibid. (ed. Eastman, 326); cf. Aeg.Rom. De renun. 21 (ed. Eastman, 319–​320). 79 Aeg.Rom. De renun. 21 (ed. Eastman, 319–​320); De renun. 22 (ed. Eastman, 325–​326).

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Upon the death of a pope, the power of the papacy remains in the Church or in the College of Cardinals, which has the power and authority to elect a new pope.80 Yet even in a dead pope, the power of ordination remains, the indelible character imprinted on the soul that remains after death. It is this character that every priest has that is the means by which every priest participates in the eternal priesthood of Christ. This character cannot be denied, nor abandoned, nor put aside, and this is as true of the simple parish priest as it is of the pope. To this extent, there is a communicatio idiomatum of sorts, a divine and human nature, in every priest, though Giles did not state such. Yet the divine nature of a priest, the divine character imprinted ontologically on his soul, is not based on his own person, but on the person of Christ. Aside from that divine character, a priest is purely human. As stated above, a priest can be defrocked, and can no longer serve as a priest, but the character remains. A pope can fall into heresy and thereby no longer be the pope, but the divine character remains. In such a case, a pope ceases to be a pope, even as the priestly character remains and even as the human individual remains living. Giles explicitly referred to Pope Marcellinus, who had “deposed himself” by having sacrificed to the gods. The council of bishops did not condemn him, whereby, Giles claimed, Marcellinus had judged and condemned himself, since the pope can be judged by no one. Yet Marcellinus repented, and was re-​elected as pope, which Giles argued was needed since he had deposed himself and thus was no longer pope. In short, Marcellinus had renounced the papacy and had abdicated, based on his self-​judgment, but was then re-​elected. If a pope could not abdicate, then Marcellinus could not have been re-​elected, since he would have still been pope. Yet once he was elected again, he was then again pope.81 The election is what makes the pope the pope, or that which gives the pope his power of jurisdiction, which is supreme jurisdiction over the entire Church universal. Thus, as stated above, Giles allowed for a layman to be pope, should a layman be elected as pope and assent to it.82 Such a pope elect would have the fullness of power of the papacy, but would not be the Bishop of Rome, nor have any priestly power; or in other words, he would have the papal power of jurisdiction but would lack the power of order, but it is the power of jurisdiction that makes the pope the pope. The power of order cannot be abdicated or set 80 Aeg.Rom, De renun. 24 (ed. Eastman, 345–​346). 81 Aeg.Rom. De renun. 9 (ed. Eastman, 209–​210). The account of Marcellinus’s re-​election and then martydom is based on forged documents that found their way into the Liber Pontificalis, Giles’s explicitly cited source; for Marcellinus, see, “Pope Saint Marcellinus,” https://​www.newadv​ent.org/​cat​hen/​096​37d.htm. 82 See also Aeg.Rom. De renun. 8 (ed. Eastman, 199).

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aside, nor does it cease, even after death. The power of jurisdiction, however, is of a different nature. A defrocked priest loses his power of jurisdiction, but does not lose his power of ordination, and the same applies to the death of a priest. A dead priest no longer has the power of jurisdiction, but the soul of a dead priest retains its character that confers the power of ordination. The papacy is first and foremost an office of jurisdiction, and as the vicar of Christ and the highest priest (summus pontifex), the pope administers the jurisdiction of Christ’s eternal priesthood. Yet the individual holding the office is purely human and with respect to individual popes, the power of jurisdiction is distinct from the power of order and can be renounced, just as an individual pope loses jurisdiction upon death, or upon falling into heresy, whereby he is eo ipso no longer pope, that is, he ceases to be pope. Consequently, a pope too can depose himself by resignation or abdication, whereby in each case the eternal power of jurisdiction of the office of the papacy reverts to the College of Cardinals, and he who had been pope is no longer pope, even as the eternal power of Christ’s jurisdiction remains. Thus Paul’s reference to the eternal priesthood of Christ has nothing to do with a pope’s ability to resign, for with respect to human beings, it is only referencing the power of order.83 The problem with the Colonna arguments in Giles’s view was that they did not sufficiently distinguish between the pope’s power of order and his power of jurisdiction. The power of jurisdiction was what made the pope the pope, for otherwise, the pope was equal to all other bishops and with respect to the foundational sacrament of the Eucharist, was indeed equal to all priests. With respect to jurisdiction, however, the pope was supreme and ruled the Church as the vicar of God (vicarius dei) and the vicar of Christ (vicarius Christi). 84 The papacy was highest power of human government,85 and while the power of the papacy was divine and eternal, it was exercised with human cooperation,86

83 Aeg.Rom. De renun. 22 (ed. Eastman, 325–​326). 84 In his opening chapter, Giles referred to Boniface as God’s vicar, claiming the Colonna, based on their pride, were attacking God’s vicar: “Exinde confidentes de sua vecordia in summum nostrum pontificem sanctissimum patrem dominum Bonifacium papam VIII divina providentia verum dei vicarium ac sacrosancte Romane et universalis ecclesie sponsum legitimum impugnare sunt conati.” Aeg.Rom. De renun. 1 (ed. Eastman, 139). Giles also reference the pope, and Boniface explicitly, as the vicar of Christ, which he then did to conclude his treatise: “Et quia caput nostrum est Cristus, cuius vicarius est summus pontifex dominus Bonifacius …” Aeg.Rom. De renun. 25 (ed. Eastman, 362). 85 “… ad summam potestatem de regimine hominum, que dicitur potestas papalis …” Aeg. Rom. De renun. 5 (ed. Eastman, 170). 86 “Igitur si a solo deo est papatus, est tamen in hac persona vel in illa per cooperacionem humanam.” Aeg.Rom. De renun. 6 (ed. Eastman, 174).

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whereby individual humans who held the divine office could accept and reject that office and jurisdiction. While the pope could be judged by no one, the pope could judge himself, and just as the pope would not be the pope unless he would accept his election, so should the pope desire to renounce and resign that jurisdiction, he likewise could do so. To claim that the pope cannot resign, is, for Giles, to deny that which makes the pope the pope. That was why the Colonna arguments were so dangerous. To refute them, Giles asserted the power of the pope and of the papacy, and what it was based on. His arguments were more extensive than presented here, but the core of Giles’s treatment of papal power as here presented witnesses the degree to which his De renuntiatione was far more than a polemical treatise. It was a treatise of political theology that could rightly be titled On the Power of the Pope (De potestate pape), establishing for the first time foundational positions of the papal hierocratic theory that would later be more fully developed by Giles’s younger confrerre, Augustinus of Ancona.87 Yet Giles’s De renuntiatione, as a treatise De potestate pape, was simply “volume one” of his political theology, for not long after he completed De renuntiatione, Giles composed what is his most widely known work, his “companion volume,” De ecclesiastica potestate. 3.2 De Ecclesiastica Potestate Giles’s De eccleiastica potestate has formed the basis for the majority of treatments of his political theology. Written for Boniface viii, De ecclesiastica potestate was completed in 1302, and served as the major source for Boniface’s Unam Sanctam.88 The treatise is organized into three parts, with the first treating the spiritual and temporal swords; the second, the relationship between ecclesiastical power and temporal power; and the third, in which Giles responds to potential counter arguments.89 Part two builds upon part one, for there is much material there about the two swords as well and the material sword is virtually synonymous with temporal power. Part two is where Giles presents his extended argument for the dominion of grace. Ecclesiastical power, though, is the continuous thread, uniting all three intertwining parts. De ecclesiastica 87 See Chapter 5 below. 88 See Saak, High Way to Heaven, 28; for the context of both of Giles’s treatises, see ibid, 19–​41. See also Lambertini, “Political Thought.” 89 “Incipiunt capitula prime partis presentis libri de ecclesiastica potestate in qua tractatur de huiusmodi potestate respctu materialis gladii et respectu potencie secularis.” Aeg. Rom. De eccl. pot. 1,1 (ed. Dyson, 2); “Incipiunt capitula secunde partis huius operis, ubi agitur de Ecclesie potestate quantum ad hec temporalia que videmus.” Aeg.Rom. De eccl. pot. 2,1 (ed. Dyson, 62); “Incipiunt capitula tercie partis huius operis, in qua solvuntur obiecciones que contra prehabita fieri possent.” Aeg.Rom. De eccl.pot. 3,1 (ed. Dyson, 268).

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potestate presupposes Giles’s arguments in De renuntiatione, whereby the two treatises can legitimately be seen as complimentary, if not as two parts of a single presentation of papal and ecclesiastical power. Giles’s explicit purpose in composing his De ecclesiastica potestate was to instruct all in Christendom of what is needed to be known for salvation. He began with citing 1 Corinthians 14:38 in claiming: For, as the Apostle attests, "If any man be ignorant, he will be ignored," [1 Cor. 14:38] that is, as a gloss explains, he will be condemned by God in the future and not in the least acknowledged by the Lord, as we read in the Gospel: that the Lord will say to the wicked and to those standing at His left hand, "I know you not." [Mt. 25:41; Lk. 13:25] Therefore, lest we be ignored by the Lord at the judgment, and lest we be condemned by Him, we must by supreme effort flee from ignorance, and especially, as the gloss explains, from lack of knowledge of those things which build up faith and morals … And so, if, as the glosses of the masters indicate, he who is ignorant of matters pertaining to faith and morals will be ignored and will receive a sentence of condemnation from God at the Last Judgment, we do well to compose a treatise concerning the power of the Supreme Priest according to the small measure of our knowledge, and to seek out the truth from what is said on the foregoing subject in the works of saints and teachers lest, through ignorance, we be ignored and finally judged by the Lord.90 Giles reasserted his stated purpose in Part ii, ­chapter 12: “And the end of this work is the education of all the faithful or of the whole Christian people; for it is expedient for the whole people to understand ecclesiastical power lest, through such dangerous ignorance, they be ignored by the Lord at the future judgement.”91 While Giles’s De ecclesiastica potestate can be read, much as his De renuntiatione, as a polemical treatise supporting Boniface in the context of fierce papal-​princely conflict, we cannot historically understand his work if we ignore his own stated intent and purpose: to educate and instruct all believers. To this extent, De ecclesiastica potestate is as much a work of pastoral theology as it is of political theology.

90 Aeg.Rom. De eccl. pot. 1,1 (ed. Dyson, 4; trans. Dyson, 5). 91 Aeg.Rom. De eccl. pot. 2, 12 (ed. Dyson, 188; trans. Dyson, 189–​190).

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Giles left no doubt. In matters concerning faith and morals, the Supreme Pontiff reigned supreme, having the final say in determining that which is to be believed and that which is to be obeyed: Now it rests with the Supreme Pontiff and his fullness of power to ordain the articles of faith and to establish those things which seem to belong to good morals. For were a question to arise concerning either faith or morals, it would rest with him whose purpose and reason this is to give a definitive judgment and to establish and ordain most firmly what Christians should believe and towards which side the faithful should lean in the matters under dispute. But because those things which are of faith, and also those which as of morals, must be held of the universal Church, consequently, then, and properly, where dissensions or questions can arise over morals or faith, it rests only with one who has attained to the summit of the whole Church to bring such disputes to an end and to resolve the questions which emerge. And because the Supreme Pontiff is known to be such a one, it will rest with him alone to set such questions and related issues in order when they arise. Thus, teachers can compose treatises and handbooks of faith and morals by way of instruction, but it will pertain to the Supreme Pontiff alone to declare what must be held as authoritative where dispute or question might arise.92 In short, for Giles, the pope was where the buck stopped. And this was something every Christian needed to know, for their own salvation. Rather than going through Giles’s text line by line, I will extract here three principal concepts that form the foundation of Giles’s argument. This is not to suggest that Giles’s treatise is restricted to these three concepts or positions. It is a complex and extremely rich work that bears continued analysis, particularly in the context of Giles’s larger oeuvre. Yet these three concepts form the foundation of Giles’s argument and allow us to see not only the relationship between Giles’s De ecclesiastica potestate and his De renuntione pape, but also the underlying structure of Giles’s political theology, and thus the foundation of the Augustinians’ ideology. 3.2.1 Power As Lambertini notes, “the fundamental ideas set out and maintained by Giles in De ecclesiastica potestate are relatively well known,”93 whereby Part i of 92 Aeg.Rom. De eccl. pot. 1,1 (ed. Dyson, 4; trans. Dyson, 5). 93 Lambertini, “Political Thought,” 268.

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the treatise deals with the superiority of spiritual power over temporal power and Part ii with the dominion of grace, giving the Church dominion over all worldly goods. In this context, Lambertini points to a “particularly significant” passage where Giles relates ecclesiastical power to temporal power as that of a blacksmith and a hammer, whereby the power of the hammer is received from the blacksmith. The hammer is merely an instrument of the blacksmith.94 Lambertini, though, was seemingly unaware that Giles had already used this image in Questio 7 of the Prologue to his lectures on the Sentences. Here, Giles was arguing that God’s power is neither increased nor decreased by recognizing the power of lower causes, but that God’s power is as great alone as it is with the power of lesser causes, since all power comes from God: But thus we see in active causes that whatever of strength an agent has, it has from a higher agent, there is not more power in a higher agent and an inferior agent than in the higher agent alone. Wherefore if whatever power a hammer has, it has from a carpenter, there is not a greater power in the carpenter and the hammer than in the carpenter alone, and whatever the carpenter has with the hammer, he has without the hammer. And according to this way, because God is the first efficient cause and everything that has strength has it from God, there is not more power in God and in all agents than in God alone.95 The image though derives from Thomas Aquinas’s Summa,96 even as Giles made it his own, both in his Prologue and in his De ecclesiastica potestate. His 94

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Lambertini, “Political Thought,” 269. Lambertini seemingly was a bit confused here, because he cites this passage in his discussion of Part ii of De ecclesiastica potestate, whereas the passage cited is from Part 3, ­chapter 4, which indeed Lambertini cites. He then though continues by claiming: “To support his claim, Giles returns in some later chapters of the second part to the relationship between the spiritual and temporal powers, and confirms that the lay powers are subordinate to the priestly power.” Ibid. In short, Giles did not “support” this argument in “later chapters” of Part ii, but rather supports his arguments throughout in this passage here in Aeg.Rom. De eccl. pot. 3,4 (ed Dyson, 310). “Sed sic videmus in causis agentibus quod quando quicquid virtutis habet agens inferius habet ab agente superiori, non est maior potentia in agente superiori et inferiori quam in superiori solum. Unde si quicquid habet martellus haberet a fabro, non esset maior potentia in fabro et martello quam in fabro solum, et quicquid posset faber cum martello posset sine martello. Et secundum istum modum, quia deus est efficiens primum et omnia que virtutem habent ab ipso habent, non est plus de potentia in deo et in aliis agentibus quam in deo solum.” Aeg.Rom. 1 Sent., Prol. q. 7 (ed. Venice, 1521, fol. 5rb). See also E. Saak, The Prohemium to the Lectures on the Sentences of Giles of Rome, OESA (d. 1316): Introduction, Edition, and Translation (forthcoming). Thomas Aquinas, st iii, q. 77, art. 3, arg. 2.

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point in both was that all power comes from God and “secondary causes” do not detract from God’s power. Thus just as the hammer is an instrument used by the carpenter or blacksmith, thus is the temporal power an instrument used by the ecclesiastical power, from which all earthly power derives, namely, the pope. Giles’s argument, both in his Prologus and in his De ecclesiastica potestate, was that there is a hierarchy of power with higher powers being served by lower powers. The passage Lambertini cites is part of a broader ontological argument on which Giles based his De ecclesiastica potestate, even if passed over or unrecognized by Lambertini. In De ecclesiastica potestate Giles distinguished four types of power, but if we desire to understand Giles’s treatment of ecclesiastical power, we should begin with his understanding of power as such. Giles did give a definition of power, though it is not all that helpful: By way of describing power, then, let us say that power is nothing other than that through which someone is said to be powerful. Therefore, just as whiteness is that through which something is said to be white and blackness is that through which something is said to be black, so power is that through which someone is said to be powerful.97 To try to understand what Giles was getting at here, we have to move beyond the seeming tautology whereby “power” is that quality that “someone powerful” has, just as “white” is that which “something white” has. We also have to move beyond conceiving of “power” as “force” or coercion. If I have power over you, I have the coercive force or strength to make you do what I tell you to do. And in the ultimate case, I have the power to kill you, legally or illegally, if you do not conform to my will and/​or dictates. In this sense, “power” is fundamentally animalistic. The alpha male is the alpha male because he can kill anyone who challenges him, if they continue trying beyond a certain point. Power in this sense is the capacity to realize and assert, by force if needed, one’s own will. This understanding of power was so clearly expressed by Pilate in John 19:10-​11, though this was not a passage Giles cited in this context. Pilate had the power to release Jesus or to have him crucified. Jesus’s response was to tell Pilate that he, Pilate would have no authority over him except that authority that God had given him. In other words, Pilate’s authority and power was not his own, but was given him by God. It was thus derivitive power, and such an understanding of power is central for grasping Giles’s treatment of ecclesiastical power. 97 Aeg.Rom. De eccl. pot. 2,6 (ed. Dyson, 114; trans. 115).

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As John 19:10-​11 indicates, “power” and “authority” are closely related. Pilate had authority over Jesus’s life, even if that authority had been granted to him. Authoritative statements have power, the power of the word, and the power of the word yields authority, as seen in Matthew 7:29 where Jesus spoke with authority, an authority the scribes lacked. As Max Weber recognized, there are various types of authority, charismatic authority, institutional authority, moral authority, etc.,98 and each has its own type of power, whereby power and authority are directly correlated, even if distinct. In Latin, auctoritas is distinct from potestas, but it is not incorrect to see Giles’s De ecclesiastica potestate as equally a treatise De ecclesiastica auctoritate based the derivative understanding of power whereby all power comes from God as Paul asserted in Romans 13:1. Yet for Giles, even though Scripture was foundational for his understanding of ecclesiastical power, it was Aristotle that lay behind his explicit definition of power as quoted above. Aristotle’s understanding of “power” was diverse, and there remains scholarly debate over what “precisely” Aristotle meant by “power.”99 The term Aristotle used that is variously translated is dynamis (δύναμις), one translation of which is potestas. As such, potestas also has connotations of potentiality, capacity, and capability, and is related to causation and change from point A to point B.100 Thus that which has the capacity to cause or effect change in something bringing potentiality into act is power. It was in this sense, in part, that Giles used the hammer and carpenter example, whereby the hammer does not have power in and of itself, but only by being acted upon by the carpenter, who does not lose his own power in conferring power to the hammer. The same understanding applies to the passage Lambertini noted as “particularly significant” when the entire passage is taken into account rather than the excerpt cited by Lambertini: But if temporal things are considered in relation to the earthly power, we shall make a distinction as to the word 'primarily. For, in one way, 98

Max Weber, Economy and Society, ed. Günther Roth and Claus Wittich, 2 vols. (Berkeley, 1978), 1:212-​245. 99 See Marc S. Cohen, “Nonsubstantial Particulars: Supplement to Aristotle’s Metaphysics,” Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (2020), online at: https://​plato.stanf​ord.edu/​entr​ies/​ aristo​tle-​meta​phys​ics/​supp1.html#:~:text=​Accord​ing%20to%20the%20trad​itio​nal%20 acco​unt%20%28cf.%20Ackr​ill%201​963%29%2C,Socra​tes%2C%20t​hen%20it%20is%20 not%20in%20a​nyth​ing%20e​lse. 100 See the Research Gate discussion at: https://​www.resea​rchg​ate.net/​post/​Is_​it_​possible_​ to_​provide_​a_​simple_​definition_​of_​A​rist​otle​s_​co​ncep​t_​of​_​pow​ers#:~:text=​Power%20 %28or%20be​ing-​in-​pote​ncy%20or%20pote​ncy%2C%20as%20it%20is,a%20th​ing%20 has%20are%20g​roun​ded%20in%20its%20actu​alit​ies.

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'primarily' is the same as 'more immediately'; and, in another, it is the same as 'more principally'. Thus, if a blacksmith strikes a piece of iron with a hammer, it is clear that 'primarily', that is, 'more immediately', the hammer strikes the iron; but 'primarily', that is, 'more principally', the blacksmith strikes the iron. For the hammer receives the capacity to strike the iron from the blacksmith: thus, the blacksmith strikes the iron 'more principally' than the hammer does. So too in our proposition: the earthly power is indeed a kind of instrument and a kind of hammer of the ecclesiastical power; and, though the earthly power has lordship over temporal affairs, it receives this from the ecclesiastical power just as the hammer receives the capacity to strike the piece of iron from the blacksmith. For no one is a prince over temporal things who either does not have it from the Church that he is a prince, or does not have it from her that he is a true and worthy prince, as is plainly shown from what has been said.101 Yet we must remember that this passage appears in Part iii of Giles’s treatise in which he responds to possible objections to the arguments he put forward in the first two Parts, and it was in Part ii that Giles addressed power as such and the four types of power, of which the hammer and blacksmith example is simply one. Giles’s discussion of the four types of power comes in Part ii, ­chapter 6 of his treatise. The rubric of ­chapter 6 states: “That the earthly power is rightly and properly the servant of the spiritual power in itself and in what belongs to it, because it is more particular, and because it prepares material, and because it comes less close to attaining what is best.”102 In this light, Giles stated: Let us come, therefore, to our proposition, and make clear the statements contained in the heading of this chapter. To this end, we shall distinguish four kinds of power, and we shall show that, in each kind, some powers are superior and others inferior, and also that, in each such kind, the inferior powers are always the servants of the superior. … Therefore, four kinds of power have been distinguished. One kind of power consists in natural forces, another in the arts, a third in the sciences, and a fourth in the ruling power and governments of men. And each of these powers consists in a certain order and proportion. Thus, natural power is the

1 01 Aeg.Rom. De eccl. pot. 3,4 (ed. Dyson, 310; trans. 311). 102 Aeg.Rom. De eccl. pot. 2,6 (ed. Dyson, 112; trans., 113).

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proportionate production of natural effects; and artistic power is right reason or order applied to the production of that which can be made by art; and scientific power is right reason applied to the study of that which can be investigated; and the power of ruling is ordered and right reason applied to the government of men.103 Giles then continued to briefly discuss each type of power, whereby natural power is that of natural causation, whereby a higher natural cause effects lower causes, such as the heavenly forces generating fire, whereby the power of the elements (fire, air, water, earth) “do not act except by the force of heaven,” or the power of the sun to effect generation of animals.104 Thus too in the arts, the more general, or superior arts have lower arts subordinated to them, such as bridle-​making is subordinated to the art of war in so far as bridles serve mounted soldiers. This hierarchy of power with respect to the arts is not as such one of causation, as in natural power, but in service and preparation. Bridles can be used for arts other than war, even as bridle-​making disposes its material for the more general art of war, just as “rudder-​making” serves sailing and “stone-​cutting” serves building. Though Giles does not explicitly state as much, he implies that that art that serves another receives its power from the higher art, or that the higher art is more powerful than the inferior art in the since that the inferior art serves the higher art. This same relationship is evident then too among the fields of knowledge (scientie), whereby specialized fields of knowledge are subordinated to more general fields based on the extent to which a given field of knowledge attains to the best (optimum).105 Thus all fields of human knowledge are subordinated to Metaphysics and serve as handmaidens to Metaphysics, even as then Metaphysics serves as the handmaid of Theology, which truely attains the best (optimum).106 Here Giles was treating the issue of subalternation, even as he did not use this term. Giles had, though, treated subalternation at length in his Prologus to his lectures on the Sentences, whereby his treatment in De ecclesiastica potestate in terms of power can be seen as a brief summary of his far more technical and extensive analysis in his Prologus.107 Giles’s treatment of subalternation was based on Peter of Spain’s Tractatus as a logical means of ordering

1 03 Aeg.Rom. De eccl. pot. 2,6 (ed. Dyson, 114–​116; trans. 115–​117). 104 Aeg.Rom. De eccl. pot. 2,6 (ed. Dyson, 116; trans. 117). 105 Aeg.Rom. De eccl. pot. 2,6 (ed. Dyson, 116–​118; trans. 117–​119). 106 Aeg.Rom. De eccl. pot. 2,6 (ed. Dyson, 118; trans. 119). 107 See Saak, The Prohemium of Giles of Rome.

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fields of knowledge based on Aristotle’s Categories and Metaphysics.108 In his Prologus, Giles did not relate subalternation to power, though he did to potential or potency as related to act, to one discipline or art serving another, and to the attainment of the best (optimum). In other words, Giles’s discussion of two of his four types of power came directly from his Prologus in analyzing whether Theology is a field of knowledge and if so, how is it so and what type of knowledge is it, and how does it relate to other fields of human knowledge. In this context, two fields of knowledge are related as one being the “subalternating” field of knowledge and the other the “subalternated” field of knowledge, whereby the subalternating field of knowledge subalternates the inferior or lower field to itself, thus establishing a power relationship of capacity and bringing into Being.109 In short, within the arts and sciences, the subalternating fields exerted power over the subalternated fields in a hierarchy of Being, with Theology being truely the Queen of the Sciences which all other fields served in various ways,110 even as they maintained their independence and spheres of specialty, as did bridle-​making with respect to the art of war. And this was the concept of power that Giles had in discussion ecclesiastical power. There was, though, still the fourth type of power, the power of ruling and governing, which was the type of power directly involved in ecclesiastical power. Here, though, Giles clarified, … in the case of powers of the fourth kind—​the ruling and governing powers—​we shall say that all three of these causes come together at once. For we shall say that earthly power and rule must obey and serve spiritual power and rule for all three of the reasons so far given: because it is more particular, and because it disposes and prepares material, and also because the one does not come near to or attain what is best as does the other.111 In other words, with respect to governing and ruling, the spiritual power subalternates temporal power to itself, analogously to Theology subalternating all fields of human knowledge to itself, thereby exercising a power over temporal power even as temporal power remains within its own sphere, so to speak. Since ecclesiastical power is principally spiritual power, ecclesiastical 1 08 See Saak, The Prohemium of Giles of Rome. 109 Ibid. 110 Aeg.Rom. 1 Sent., Prologus, q. 7 (Venice, 1521), fol. 5ra-​va; Aeg.Rom. De eccl. pot. 2,6 (ed. Dyson, 118; trans. 119). 111 Aeg.Rom. De eccl. pot. 2,6 (ed. Dyson, 120; trans. 121).

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power subalternates, or subordinates, lay power to itself. This is not, though, as such a coercive power of force, but one of ontological relationship based on Aristotelian metaphysics. The temporal power has its own sphere, much as does bridle-​making with respect to the art of war, or metaphysics with respect to theology, or optics with respect to geometry.112 Yet the spiritual power remains the subalternating power and this was, to the extent that we can discern, Giles’s understanding of ecclesiastical power. 3.2.2 Status and Order Giles did not discuss the power of order in his De ecclesiastica potestate. Yet the distinction between the power of order (potestas ordinis) and the power of jurisdiction (potestas jurisdictionis), which had been the central point of demarcation in his De renuntiatione pape, is implicitly present throughout. I will address jurisdiction below, but here we should note that what Giles considered the power of order in De renuntiatione became in De ecclesiastica potestate subsumed under the concept of status and ordo, even though the later was not designated as the potestas ordinis. At the beginning of his treatise, Giles addressed the major distinction between the clergy and the laity, based on perfection and sanctity: Let us return to our proposition, therefore, and say that perfection or sanctity or spirituality is of two kinds: the one is personal, the other according to status. Thus, the status of the clergy is more perfect than the status of laymen, and that of rulers than that of subjects; but if we speak of personal perfection, there are many laymen who are holier and more spiritual than many clerics, and many subjects who are more so than many rulers.113 Clearly here status is not equated with potestas ordinis because it applies to the laity as well with respect to rulers and their subjects. Indeed, Giles explicitly linked status with jurisdiction: The sayings of saints and teachers commonly attest that perfection is of two kinds: personal, and according to status. These two kinds of perfection seem to differ thus: personal perfection indeed consists in serenity and in purity of conscience, but perfection of status, and especially of the 112 Aeg.Rom. De eccl. pot. 2, 6 (ed. Dyson, 116); Saak, The Prohemium of Giles of Rome. See also Chapter 4 below. 113 Aeg.Rom. De eccl. pot. 1,2 (ed. Dyson, 8; trans., 9).

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status of the prelates and of all those who, standing before the tribunal of Christ on the Last Day, must render an account of the souls of the faithful, consists in jurisdiction and in fullness of power.114 The distinction between perfection of status and personal perfection, whereby a priest, who has a higher status than a layman, could nevertheless be of lower personal perfection, Giles may have adopted from his confrere James of Viterbo, who argued in question twenty-​four of his second Quodlibet that the religion of the clergy is more perfect than the religion of the laity, even though some laity could be more perfect with respect to individual, personal perfection.115 Giles though transformed James’s religio into status, and then related status to jurisdiction. Status was not equated with the potestas ordinis, since there are various statuses within lay society as well, and Giles explicitly related status with ­jurisdiction. Whereas the distinction between the potestas ordinis and the potestas jurisdictionis was that between the power conferred in ordination that imprinted a character on one’s soul, enabling the ordinand to effect the sacraments, the power of jurisdiction concerned the right to rule and govern. Yet Giles explicitly asserted the status of the clergy as higher than the status of the laity, as seen above, which is related to the potestas ordinis, whereby even the emperor cannot consecrate the elements in celebrating mass, even if a layman is of more spiritual perfection than a parish priest personally. Thus every status within the clergy is ontologically higher than the various statuses of the laity. This basic distinction in the status of the clergy and the status of the laity is related to the distinction between body and soul, with the soul subalternating the body, whereby the body is “under” the soul and is to be governed and perfected by it. Thus too the “two swords,” the spiritual and temporal swords, are associated with the soul and the body respectively: For these two swords are provided for the two parts which are in man: that is, for soul and body; so that the spiritual sword is concerned with souls while the material, which has the judgment of blood, is seen to be appointed for bodies and for temporal matters. But although God made the human body and the human soul equally immediately, man would never have been composed from that body and from that soul

1 14 Aeg.Rom. De eccl. pot. 1,2 (ed. Dyson, 6; trans. 7). 115 Saak, “The Life and Works of James of Viterbo,” in The Brill Companion to James of Viterbo, ed. Antoine Côté and Martin Pickavé (Leiden, 2018), 11–​32; 23.

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unless the body existed potentially in relation to the soul and the soul was the actuality and perfection of the body. For a single entity is never made either from two actualities or from two potentialities. Rather, as is more extensively shown in natural science, a single entity is always made from potentiality and actuality. Therefore, if a single entity is made from soul and body—​for a single man is constituted in this way—​then it must be that the one is under the other, that the one is perfected through the other, and that the one is the servant of the other. Thus, the body is under the soul, is perfected through the soul, and is appointed to serve the soul.116 From the individual human being, to the place of human beings within society, to the natural world and the entire universe, there is a grand order hierarchically structured within concentric spheres: And so if the whole universe, of which God has the general care, is so well ordered that inferior bodies are under superior and all bodies are under the spiritual and spiritual substance itself is under the Supreme Spirit, that is, under God, then it is wholly inconsistent to say that the faithful people, and the Church herself, whom God has chosen for Himself, having neither spot nor blemish, is not well ordered, and that she is not wholly and entirely united and joined in the same way, and that the order of the universe, which, as Augustine maintains in the Enchiridion, is a most beautiful order and an astonishing beauty: that this astonishing beauty, this most beautiful order, is not reflected in the Church. And so just as, in the universe itself, inferior bodies are ruled through superior and the weaker through the more potent, so, among the Christian people, among the faithful themselves, inferior bodies are ruled through superior and the weaker through the more potent, so, among the Christian people, among the faithful themselves, inferior temporal lords are ruled through superiors and the less potent through the more potent. And just as, in the universe itself, the whole of corporeal substance is ruled through spiritual—​for the heavens themselves, which are supreme among corporeal substances and which have influence over all bodies, are governed through spiritual substances: through the intelligences which move them, so, among the faithful themselves, all temporal lords and every earthly power must be ruled and governed through the spiritual 116 Aeg.Rom. De eccl. pot. 2,5 (ed. Dyson, 106; trans. 107).

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and ecclesiastical power and especially through the Supreme Pontiff, who holds the supreme and highest rank in the Church and in spiritual power.117 It is an ontological and metaphysical structure that Giles asserts and assumes that provides the foundation for his arguments for ecclesiastical power, a structure that served as well as the basis for his analysis of Theology as the Queen of the Sciences in the Prologus to his lectures on the Sentences. It is an ontological hierarchy of subalternation, whereby the more general and that which most closely attains the best (optimum) subalternates to itself the inferior or lower powers, whereby in the subalternation itself is found Giles’s understanding of power. In this light, the ecclesiastical hierarchy of Giles’s ontology can be graphically depicted as in Figure 1 below. Figure 1, however, does not include all aspects of Giles comprehensive understanding and vision of all of creation.118 It does not include the natural powers, or, as Giles put it, the heavenly powers. It does not include the hierarchy of spiritual Being, as had the Pseudo-​Dionysius in his Celestial Hierarchy, upon which Giles drew heavily. Yet here we find diagramed the major distinction of the power of ordination and the status of the clergy and the laity, whereby the clergy, those ordained to spiritualia, are higher than the laity on the scale of perfection, even as an individual layman could be more perfect individually than could an individual priest, or even pope. It is a hierarchy of status and ordo, not one on individuals. And to this extent it is very Augustinian, because it is very anti-​Donatist, whereby the office is not equated with the individual, namely, whereby a “sinful” priest can still efficaciously effect the sacraments based on the holiness of his office. In so many ways, the Donatist Controversy remained a constant in Western theology far after the condemnation of Donatism in 411 ce. With Giles, though, the office, or in Latin, the officium, was equated with status. The spiritual, or ecclesiastical sphere is “higher” than the temporal, or lay sphere, and subalternates it to itself, exercising thereby its inherent power, whereby “power” is that which is found in the “powerful.” And yet, just as the body and soul are, theoretically, to cooperate within a single human being, whereby even given the subalternating role of the soul, the body still retains its own specific realm of influence and action, so the temporal realm has its own realm of responsibility and jurisdiction, just as optics is a distinct, specialized field of knowledge that serves geometry; even as then the body is to serve the

1 17 Aeg.Rom. De eccl. pot. 1,5 (ed. Dyson, 26; trans. 27). 118 I simply do not have the technological skills to create such a representation graphically.

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God Ecclesiastical/Spiritual/Soul Pope Cardinals Archbishops Bishops Priests Lay/Temporal/Body Emperor Kings Princes Knights Artisans/Peasants

­f igure 1  Ecclesiastical hierarchy

soul, so is the temporal power to serve, as a handmaid, the spiritual power. And at the pinnacle of the spiritual power, the highest status within the ontological hierarchy, is the papacy, that which confers capacity on all lower orders, bringing them into Being by moving them from potentiality to actuality, analogous to Christ having brought into Being and “actualizing” his Church by means of his vicar, the Pope. As Giles put it, But he who is perfected and holy and spiritual according to status, and especially according to the status of prelate, is elevated according to jurisdiction and according to fullness of power. He will judge all things, that is, he will be lord of all things; and he will not be subject to the judgment of anyone: that is, no one will be able to be his lord. And such a one is the Supreme Pontiff, whose status is the holiest and most spiritual of all. Thus, all men must call him Most Holy Father, and all must present themselves to kiss his blessed feet.119 3.2.3 Jurisdiction As noted above, Giles related status to jurisdiction, and both were related to order on a grand scale. Status and jurisdiction were direct correlations to the universal ontological hierarchy of subalternating and the subalternated whereby the subalternated received its capacity to act, or at least its capacity to act justly and rightly, from its subalternating superior, one form of power Giles described, in bringing potentiality into actuality. God subalternated all of God’s creation, establishing the divine order. Yet within temporality, God acted 119 Aeg.Rom. De eccl. pot. 1,2 (ed. Dyson, 10; trans. 11).

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both directly and instrumentally, whereby the pinnacle of the divine hierarchy within time was God’s vicar, the pope: For we can clearly show from the order of the universe that the Church is placed above nations and kingdoms. For according to Dionysius in De angelica hierarchia, it is the law of Divinity to lead the lowest back to the highest through the intermediate. The order of the universe therefore requires this: that the lowest be led back to the highest through the intermediate. For if the lowest and the intermediate were both to be led back to the highest immediately and in the same fashion, the universe would not be rightly ordered. And that it is incorrect to say this, especially of the powers and authorities, is clear from what the Apostle says at Romans 13, who, when he had first said that there is no power except of God, immediately afterwards added: and the powers that be are ordained of God [Rom. 13:1]. If there are two swords, therefore, the one spiritual and the other temporal—​as can be shown from what is said in the Gospel: Behold, here are two swords [Lk. 22:38], where the Lord at once added: It is enough; for these two swords are sufficient in the Church—​ then these two swords, these two authorities and powers, must be of God; for, as has been said, there is no power except of God. And so they must be ordained [i.e. arranged in their proper order], since, as we have noted, those [powers] which are of God must be ordained. But they would not be ordained unless the one sword were led by the other and unless the one were under the other; for, as Dionysius has said, the law of Divinity which God has given to all created things requires this: that is, the order of the universe (that is, of all creatures) requires not that all things be led back to the highest immediately and in the same fashion, but that the lowest be led through the intermediate and the inferior through the superior. The temporal sword, therefore, as inferior, must be led by the spiritual as by a superior, and the one must be ordained under the other as inferior under superior.120 Just as all fields of human knowledge are subalternated to Metaphysics, and then Metaphysics is subalternated to Theology, and just as the earthly natural powers are subalternated to the heavenly powers, and just as the body is 120 Aeg.Rom. De eccl. pot. 1,4 (ed. Dyson, 18; trans. 19). The parenthesis and the bracketed explanatory statements were added by Dyson, whereby the parenthesis is Dyson’s punctuation of the text whereas the brackets are his clarifying the text; the bracketed scriptural references I have supplied, which Dyson had given as footnotes.

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subalternated to the soul, so then is all of creation subalternated to God and within Time temporal power is subalternated to spiritual power. And within the realm of spiritual power, all lower spiritual power is subalternated to the pope. Giles considered the logical organizational principle of subalternation to likewise be an ontological structure of all of creation, whereby “God is a kind of fount and a kind of sea of force and power, from which sea all forces and all powers are derived like streams.”121 The lower powers and entities served the higher instrumentally as intermediates, leading to the higher power and entity, and ultimately to the highest, from which all power flowed. Geometry was the highest power within the field of Geometry, subordinating its subdisciplines, such as optics, which then served Geometry even with its own principles and subject, while Geometry was in intermediate power leading towards Metaphysics, which then itself served ultimately Theology. It was a feudal structure whereby a lord was a lord within his own realm, even as a lord could be a vassal to a higher lord and ultimately to the emperor. The question, then, though, was whether the emperor was subalternated to God alone, or was to serve as an intermediate to the supreme spiritual power, the pope. This question turned on whether the emperor, and consequently all temporal power, received his “actualization” directly from God, or from the spiritual power, namely, the pope. Thus the question was one of priority and origins, namely, whether kingship was prior to the priesthood, from which it was derived, or the other way around. For Giles, priesthood preceded kingship. Giles admitted that the first king we find in Scripture is Nimrod, who preceded Melchizedek.122 However, although the name of king preceded that of priest, the priestly function came first, for Noah, before there was any mention of kings, upon leaving the Ark, “built an altar to the Lord, and, taking of all the cattle and birds that were clean, offered burnt offerings,” whereby “to offer burnt offerings in a sweet savior upon the altar is a work of priesthood.”123 Yet even before the Flood, we find that Abel “offered to the Lord the firstborn of his flock, and of their fat,” and since “to offer burnt offerings or the firstborn of the flock is a work of priesthood,” and therefore “though the name of priesthood was not in use, there was still a priesthood in fact. But we read of neither the name nor the fact of kingship before the Flood. Thus, both after the Flood and before it, the fact of priesthood preceded kingship; and because no notice is to be taken of a name when the fact is clear,

1 21 Aeg.Rom. De eccl.pot. 3,2 (ed. Dyson, 286; trans. 287). 122 Aeg.Rom. De eccl. pot. 1,6 (ed. Dyson, 30; trans., 31). 123 Aeg.Rom. De eccl. pot. 1,6 (ed. Dyson, 34; trans., 35).

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we can say that established facts show that priesthood preceded kingship.”124 Thus, Giles claimed, kingship was instituted through the priesthood, with Melchizedek combining both in his own person since Melchizedek was priest and king. In this light, there are four types of kingship, … namely: the kingship of usurpation, which is robbery; kingship united with priesthood; kingship instituted through priesthood; and kingship which is the successor of that so instituted. Thus, if there be a kingship of usurpation, it is not the kind of kingship of which we are speaking, because it is not rightful. Moreover, kingship which is united with priesthood is not that of which we are speaking, because it is not separate from priesthood. Rather, we are speaking of kingship which has been instituted through priesthood or which is the successor of that so instituted. Hence it is clear that the beginning of right rule, insofar as kingship and priesthood are two separate swords, derives its origin from priesthood. Let kings, therefore acknowledge themselves to be instituted through priesthood. For if we give diligent attention to whence royal power has come and to whence it has been instituted, it follows that, because it has been instituted through priesthood, royal power should be subject to priestly power, and especially to the power of the Supreme Priest.125 Priesthood thus subalternates kingship to itself as having priority and being principle, as that which establishes kingship which is placed below. Yet this order is not simply one of relating priesthood to kingship, or the relationship between the two swords. It is an ordering of the entire universe: Therefore, if we wish to see which power stands under which power, we must pay attention to the government of the whole mechanism of the world. And we see in the government of the universe that the whole of corporeal substance is governed through the spiritual. Inferior bodies are indeed ruled through superior, and the more gross through the more subtle and the less potent through the more potent; but the whole of corporeal substance is nonetheless ruled through the spiritual, and the whole of spiritual substance by the Supreme Spirit: that is, by God … And so if the whole universe, of which God has the general care, is so well ordered that inferior bodies are under superior and all bodies are under the

1 24 Aeg.Rom. De eccl. pot. 1,6 (ed. Dyson, 36; trans., 37). 125 Aeg.Rom. De eccl. pot. 1,6 (ed. Dyson, 24; trans., 25).

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spiritual and spiritual substance itself is under the Supreme Spirit, that is, under God, then it is wholly inconsistent to say that the faithful people, and the Church herself, whom God has chosen for Himself, having neither spot nor blemish, is not well ordered, and that she is not wholly and entirely united and joined in the same say, and that the order of the universe, which, as Augustine maintains in the Enchiridion, is a most beautiful order and an astonishing beauty: that this astonishing beauty, this most beautiful order, is not reflected in the Church. And so just as, in the universe itself, inferior bodies are ruled through superior and the weaker through the more potent, so, among the Christian people, among the faithful themselves, inferior temporal lords are ruled through superiors and the less potent through the more potent. And just as, in the universe itself, the whole of corporeal substance is ruled through spiritual … so, among the faithful themselves, all temporal lords and every earthly power must be ruled and governed through the spiritual and ecclesiastical power, and especially through the Supreme Pontiff, who hold the supreme and highest rank in the Church and in spiritual power.126 In short, “ecclesiastical lordship imitates the forces of heaven, whose task it is to exert influence over all things; but earthly lordship imitates those inferior forces whose task it is to bring about particular effects.”127 Thus Giles’s “dominion of grace,” and indeed his understanding of the relationship between temporal and spiritual, or lay and ecclesiastical, rule, cannot be grasped simply by analyzing the jurisdiction of princes, kings, and the emperor over against the jurisdiction of priests, bishops, and the pope. Jurisdiction, and the power of jurisdiction, is for Giles that of the entire universe and his Augustinian-​ Dionysian cosmology, the beautiful order that God has created and established and governs, even through intermediate powers, whose task is to lead all inferior powers back to the supreme power, God Himself. In this light, we cannot extract Giles’s “political thought” from his theology. 3.2.4 Salvation Giles would not have understood the distinction between political theology and theology as such. For Giles, his De ecclesiastica potestate was a work of theology, focused on the issue of jurisdiction in light of his cosmology. He began his treatise with the assertion that ignorance is no excuse, to put it in modern 1 26 Aeg.Rom. De eccl. pot. 1,5 (ed. Dyson, 24–​26; trans. 25–​27). 127 Aeg.Rom. De eccl. pot. 2,6 (ed. Dyson, 124; trans., 125); cf. Aeg.Rom. De eccl. pot. 2,13 (ed. Dyson, 232–​238).

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phrasing, whereby, based on 1 Corinthians 14:38, God will ignore those at the final judgment who are ignorant of what is required for salvation.128 The pope indeed, as the Supreme Priest, ordains the very articles of faith themselves, and “because those things which are of faith, and also those which are of morals, must be held by the universal Church … it will pertain to the Supreme Pontiff alone to declare what must be held as authoritative where dispute or question might arise.”129 Those who are ignorant of faith and morals will be condemned at the Last Judgment, and thus, Giles explained, … we do well to compose a treatise concerning the power of the Supreme Priest according to the small measure of our knowledge, and to seek out the truth from what is said on the foregoing subject in the works of saints and teachers, lest, through ignorance, we be ignored and finally judged by the Lord.130 To this extent, Giles’s treatise is pastoral, in that he strove to reveal essential positions, and positions essential to salvation for everyone: For just as none were saved at the time of the Flood except those who were in the Ark and under Noah, so in this flood, in this inundation of waters and storms—​that is, in this world, in this great and spacious sea, where there are not only storms but also creeping things without number, that is, enemies of many different kinds—​no one will be saved, no one can achieve salvation, except through the Ark of Noah, that is, through the Church, and unless he is under Noah, that is, under the Supreme Pontiff.131 Giles reasserted his purpose in writing De ecclesiastica potestate in Part ii, ­chapter 12, where, after stating that it might seem that his work is somewhat repetitious and may include much that does not seem pertinent, he argued: As wise men have noted, however, an end imposes a necessity upon those things which are ordered to that end. Thus, if the end of a saw is to cut hard material, it is necessary that it be made of iron and have teeth, for

1 28 Aeg.Rom. De eccl. pot. 1,1 (ed. Dyson, 4; trans., 5). 129 Ibid. 130 Ibid. 131 Aeg.Rom. De eccl. pot. 2,1 (ed. Dyson, 64; trans., 65).

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it would not otherwise be adapted to the cutting of hard material. And the end of this work is the education of all the faithful or of the whole Christian people; for it is expedient for the whole people to understand ecclesiastical power lest, through such dangerous ignorance, they be ignored by the Lord at the future judgment.132 Salvation was at stake and people needed to know. While in De ecclesiastica potestate Giles focused rather exclusively on the potestas jurisdictionis, the potestas ordinis lay behind his work as a given, for it was the jurisdiction of the clergy that allowed for the celebration of the sacraments. It was fallen humankind that Giles was addressing and original sin, as well as sin in general, could only be absolved by the clergy. Baptism and confession were essential, and no one could legitimately have the use of temporal possessions if they were not a son of God,133 just as legitimate kingship was kingship that was established by the clergy. Original sin put humans in the state of deserving immediate death, as God stated to Adam and Eve in Paradise, “For if God were to treat a man according to his deserts, He would destroy him instantly, or pronounce him worthy of instant death, as soon as he committed mortal sin.”134 The Passion of Christ delayed divine judgment and offers a means for humans to be reconciled to God and to achieve salvation. Yet … if there were nothing else in us apart from a refusal to be under the Church and a refusal to keep her commandments, the Passion of Christ, from Whose side, as He died on the Cross, the Church was formed, would be of no profit to us. But the Passion of Christ has opened the gate of heaven to us. For before the Passion of Christ, no man, however holy, entered the Kingdom of Heaven or could enjoy the Divine Vision. But when Christ suffered and died, the heavenly gate was immediately opened … whoever despises the Church thrusts away from himself the benefit which he can obtain from the Passion of Christ. And since the Passion of Christ has opened heaven's gate to us, it follows that, to him, the gate of heaven is therefore closed. For the influence of Christ's Passion cannot come to us except through the Church.135

1 32 Aeg.Rom. De eccl. pot. 2,12 (ed. Dyson, 188; trans. 189–​191). 133 Aeg.Rom. De eccl. pot. 2, 9 (ed. Dyson, 150–​152; trans., 151–​153). 134 Aeg.Rom. De eccl. pot. 2,12, (ed. Dyson, 198; trans., 199). 135 Aeg.Rom. De eccl. pot. 2,12 (ed. Dyson, 204–​206; trans., 205–​207).

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And the power of administering and celebrating the sacraments, making them efficacious, is the potestas ordinis, as Giles had detailed in his De renuntiatione pape. The sacraments were the means of salvation. While the temporal sword had the right to exercise the judgment of blood, having the coercive power to enforce compliance to the point of death, so the spiritual sword had the right to exercise excommunication, which would effectively lead to eternal death, for “all the sacraments of the Church are like vessels of grace. To the excommunicate, then, because he is ejected from the communion of the Church, outside whom there is neither salvation nor reception of grace, the sacraments must not be permitted.”136 The spiritual sword, wielded by the clergy and thus primarily by the Supreme Pontiff, was analogous to the temporal sword and its judgment of blood: The spiritual powers, therefore, require that the mind and will should serve them; but the secular powers, if you do not serve them in will and mind, compel you by the judgment of blood, and even by death, which, as is said in the Ethics, is the most terrible of all ends. The prelates of the Church, however, accomplish this by means of ecclesiastical censure and through excommunication, never by the judgment of blood … Thus, such judgments are executed through the secular powers. Let us say, therefore, that, if obedience is not given to the secular powers, the body will be slain by reason of the judgment of blood and because they have the material sword which holds sway in bodily matters. But if obedience is not given to the spiritual powers, then, because such powers have the spiritual sword, which strikes through to the soul and can separate it from the communion of the faithful for disobedience, the soul is slain by that sword. For just as a limb amputated from the body is of necessity a dead limb, because the heart can no longer infuse the force of life into a member thus cut off, so the soul which does not obey the spiritual powers is spiritually dead by reason of ecclesiastical censure, since that which is thus separated and cut off from the communion of the faithful will not be able to participate in the influx of spiritual grace.137

1 36 Aeg.Rom. De eccl. pot. 2,12 (ed. Dyson, 202; trans., 203). 137 Aeg.Rom. De eccl.pot. 1,4 (ed. Dyson, 14–​16; transl, 15–​17); cf. Aeg.Rom. De eccl. pot. 2,13 (ed. Dyson, 218–​220; trans., 219–​221).

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Salvation was indeed at stake in understanding the relationship between the spiritual powers and the temporal powers, and this Giles wanted to make sure every Christian knew. Ignorance was no excuse. The sacraments, the means of grace, forgiveness, mercy, and thus salvation, were only efficacious through ecclesiastical power and no temporal power could change that or claim it for itself. The relationship between the pope and the emperor, or in the context in which Giles composed his treatise, between the pope and the king of France, was not a political relationship as such at all. It was a theological relationship based on the ontological order God had established for all of creation and the entire universe and the means by which fallen humanity could be led by the higher powers back to God, the font from which all power flowed administered by God’s vicar, the pope, and Christ’s Church, formed from the blood and water flowing from his side in his crucifixion. To deny that structure and that relationship, of subalternating powers and subalternated powers, was to deny God’s established order of the universe and of salvation. In this light, the potestas ordinis was more than the character imprinted on the soul of those ordained; it was the power of God’s creation and of God’s salvation, worked out by means of the potestas jurisdictionis. Only in this light can we properly speak historically of Giles’s “political theology.” 4

Towards an Augustinian Ideology

With De renuntiatione pape and De ecclesiastica potestate, Giles incorporated ecclesiology within his developing theological program that had begun with his lectures on the Sentences. Such a program was a theological cosmology that Giles saw as necessary to salvation for every Christian. Within his Dionysian-​ Augustinian structure, Giles rendered theology as inherently political, even as his De regimine, composed after his lectures on the Sentences, stands apart as a distinctly non-​theological work, or, perhaps, we should say that in De regimine, Giles focused rather exclusively on the temporal sphere without placing that temporal sphere within the context of his universal, theological vision. In the development of that vision, we find as well the emergence of an Augustinian ideology whereby the authority of Augustine became the central factor for Giles as Giles maneuvered between his two patrons, King Philip iv of France, and Pope Boniface viii. Theology, for Giles, was political, and it had become so within the context of a very worldly, temporal conflict. We will misunderstand Giles, and consequently his reception of Augustine, if we rack our brains trying to explain how he could cite Augustine only once, and Scripture not at all in De regimine, whereas in his later works he exhibits

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a strong influence of Augustine. Simply put, De regimine was not a work of theology at all—​by design. It would certainly be legitimate and valid to lose many hours of sleep pondering why Giles never cited Scripture or Augustine in De regimine, and the answer could shed important new light on Giles and late thirteenth-​century intellectual history; yet far more pertinent to the matter at hand is to recognize Giles’s changing contexts, or in other words, the developing loci for Giles in which meaning was given form. In the years separating De regimine from De renuntiatione, Giles’s life changed dramatically. In 1285 he was given his Order’s first chair of theology in Paris; two years later, he was named by his Order as its normative theologian; in 1292, Giles was elected prior general of the oesa; and in 1295, he was appointed archbishop of Bourges. Whereas the Giles of De regimine was a relatively unattached young Augustinian theologian, the Giles of De renuntiatione and De ecclesiastica potestate had been the head of his international religious Order, responsible for directing its growth and success, and a relatively new Archbishop. Upon being elected to his Order’s Generalate, Giles issued a circular letter, sent to all provinces of the Order, in which he prescribed the means of the Order’s continued growth. The principles Giles established as the Order’s platform were the controlled inculcation of the common life, the establishment of schools, and particularly schools for theology, an emphasis on recruiting new members, and an administrative structure centered on the Prior General.138 There was no mention here of a special adherence to the papacy, as there would be some thirty years later in the exhortations of the Order’s Prior General Alexander of San Elpidio, who claimed in 1324 that “the status of our Order depends in all ways on the favor of the highest pontiff.”139 Yet Giles knew where the future of his Order lay. It was not with a particular prince, but with the pope, the vicar of Christ and the leader of Christendom, a position that may not have been all that foreign to De regimine after all, when we note that Giles asserted Christian law as the highest form of law to which the prince must adhere for the common good, and clarified that only learned clerics could explicate the subtleties of faith.140 By making the strict distinction between the spiritual powers and the lay in his De regimine, Giles had advocated the foundational concept of his De ecclesiastica potestate, which he began with an assertion that it is necessary for all Christians to know what is needed for salvation lest one be condemned for one’s ignorance, and thus, if questions arise concerning issues of faith or

1 38 Saak, High Way to Heaven, 21–​22. 139 Saak, High Way to Heaven, 114. 140 See above, notes 8 and 9.

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morals, it is incumbent upon the supreme pontiff “to set such questions and related issues in order when they arise.”141 Giles was rather astute in throwing all his Order’s political eggs into the papal basket, for Boniface gave the oesa continued and increasing privileges in response to the Order’s and Gile’s continued and increasing support of the papacy.142 Yet recognizing Giles’s political coup, what is the relationship to his reception of Augustine? One could easily posit Giles’s changing contexts as the cause of his increasing appeal to Augustine, yet doing so would be only part of the story. Based on his Reportatio and Ordinatio i, Giles knew Augustine as well in 1275 as his did in 1302. There is no evidence that Giles’s new positions led him to a renewed study of Augustine. What is new is the emphasis and importance Giles gave to Augustine in his so-​called political works. It is Giles’ use of Augustine, more than his reception as knowledge, that we find in Giles’s developing political theology. In short, Giles was creating an Augustinian ideology, institutionalized in the oesa, whereby his new institutional context provided the form of the meaning attributed to Augustine as Giles continuously fought for his Order’s growth, prosperity, and privileges. Giles’s new use of Augustine cannot be seen as a result of Giles’s development of papal hierocratic theory as such. Henry of Cremona, one of Boniface viii’s legal experts, did not cite Augustine at all in his De potestate papae of 1301.143 Guillaume de Pierre Godin, the most probable author of the Tractatus de causa immediata ecclesiastice potestatis of 1314, did cite Augustine in his defense of papal hierocratic theory, but he did so only via Canon Law and Thomas Aquinas’s Catena Aurea, evidencing no independent study of Augustine.144 Thus Giles, together with his confrère James of Viterbo, appears as the most “Augustinian” of all the papal theorists with no close competitors. Papal hierocratic theory did not in and of itself necessitate an appeal to Augustine, yet that is what we find with Giles. Thus, if Giles did not need to appeal to Augustine for his development of papal hierocratic theory, why did he do so?

1 41 Aeg.Rom, de eccl.pot. 1,1 (ed. Dyson, 4; trans. 5). 142 Saak, High Way to Heaven, 19–​41. 143 Richard Scholz, Die Publizistik zur Zeit Phillipe des Schönen und Bonifaz’ VIII. Ein Beitrag zur Geschichte der politischen Anschauungen des Mittelalters (Stuttgart, 1903), 156; 459–​471. 144 Guillaume de Pierre Godin, Tractatus de causa immediata ecclesiastice potestatis, ed. William D. McCready, The Theory of Papal Monarchy in the Fourteenth Century. Tractatus de causa immediata ecclesiastice potestatis, Pontifical Institute of Medieval Studies, Texts and Studies 56 (Toronto, 1982).

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The answer, or at least the answer I would offer, regards Giles’s “textual matrix.” Elsewhere I have described a “textual matrix” as consisting of all the factors involved in making possible the creation of a particular text.145 No text is mono-​causal. The infamous “author’s intent” does play a part, but not the only part. The structures in which Giles worked changed from his De regimine to his De renuntiatione. In 1297, even as Archbishop of Bourges, he was the international spokesman and representative of an international religious order that was still struggling to gain privileges equal to its two biggest competitors, the Franciscans and Dominicans. As Jordan of Quedlinburg wrote about Giles in the mid-​fourteenth century, Giles, the Order’s first doctor of theology since Augustine himself, was most concerned of all for his religion and Order.146 The institutional, as well as, I would submit, the psychological, structures of Giles’s authorship had changed the meaning of “being an Augustinian” for Giles. Giles himself had become institutionalized, whereby the institutional form gave new meaning to “being an Augustinian,” especially in light of the normativity of Giles’s doctrine as of 1287. Moreover, when we read De ecclesiastica potestate closely, it is not simply a treatise of papal supremacy; rather, as argued above, it is a treatise on ecclesiology, setting forth the proper relationship between the temporal and the spiritual for the Church as such. In this light, Giles was giving Augustine, and an Augustinian politico-​ecclesiological position, a place in the Church at large, and consequently, his own Order. If we can speak of an Augustinian ideology before Giles, it is only in the most rudimentary sense, whereby structural form gave meaning to the terms employed to describe that form. Giles supported the proto-​Augustinian ideology and transformed it by making the form of the meaning of being an Augustinian in the later Middle Ages dependent on the use of Augustine for defending the Order’s position within the religio-​political context of his De renuntiatione and De ecclesiastica potestate. It is not the reception of Augustine as such that is determinative for the impact of Augustine on the later Middle Ages, but the ideological use of Augustine in increasingly new textual matrices. By bringing the reliance upon the textual authority of Augustine into the very definition of “being an Augustinian,” Giles gave form to an emerging Augustinian ideology that later would have immense consequences for the Order, the religious, theological, and cultural history of the later Middle Ages, and the reception of Augustine itself, which would determine that which can historically be considered to have been Augustinian theology. 1 45 Saak, Creating Augustine, 192–​194, 222–​228. 146 vf 2, 22, 236–​237.

­c hapter 4

James of Viterbo Giles may have been the one to have established the Augustinian platform and formed the beginnings of the Order’s Augustinian ideology, but he was not alone. His younger confrère James of Viterbo too was instrumental, even if not as well-​known as Giles. Yet James composed what has been called the first treatise on the Church in the Middle Ages, his De regimine Christiano.1 There would, therefore, be good reason to have treated James before Giles, yet Giles had already established the basic theological and political principles of the Order when James set himself the task of treating the nature of the Church as such. Thus, even though there are strong arguments for giving James the priority in having developed a political Augustinianism for the Order, he did so within the platform Giles had established. 1

Brother James

James of Viterbo was born c. 1255 and entered the oesa as early as 1270. In 1275, James was sent to Paris, where he finally achieved the magisterium in 1293. He remained in Paris from 1293–​99 as the magister regens for his Order’s studium. Thereafter he taught in his Order’s studium generale in Naples, and in September of 1302 became the Archbishop of Benevento. In December of the same year, he was named Archbishop of Naples at the request of King Charles ii. He died eight years before Giles in 1308. Known by the titles Doctor gratiosus, Doctor inventivus, and Doctor speculativus, James was beatified by Pius x on 4 June 1914.2 James was the author of numerous works, many of which are no longer extant. His lectures on the four books of Peter Lombard’s Sentences is one such example, though aspects of those lectures are extant in the work given the title Abbreviatio in 1 Sententiarum Aegidii Romani, which has now been ascribed to James.3 James’ four Quodlibeta, a Summa de peccatorum distinctione, and still 1 Henri-​Xavier Arquillière, Le plus ancient traité de l’Êglise: Jacques de Viterbe, “De regiminie christiano (1301–​1302); Êtude des sources et edition critique (Paris, 1926). 2 Saak, “The Life and Works of James of Viterbo,” 11–​32. 3 Tavolaro, “The So-​Called Abbreviatio in 1 Sententiarum Aegidii Romani of James of Viterbo,” 376–​392.

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unresearched sermons are extant, though the Questiones de Verbo previously ascribed to James has now been shown to have been the work of Henry of Friemar, James’ younger confrère.4 Yet he is most widely known for his political work De regimine christiano. James’ De regimine was written for Boniface viii in the context of Boniface’s conflict with King Philip iv of France. Together with Giles of Rome’s De ecclesiastica potestate, James’ De regimine established papal hierocratic theory as never before, making thereby a significant contribution to late medieval political thought. 2

James’ Use of Augustine

Regarding James, Zumkeller noted: “Noteworthy for the characteristics of James’ teaching (Lehrrichtung) is in the first place his close connection to Augustine, whose writings—​not simply from florilegia —​James knew well and cited often.”5 James’ connection to Augustine, however, can be questioned when we note that in his second Quodlibet, for example, James cited Augustine fifteen times, from the Confessiones, De Genesi ad litteram, De libero arbitrio, De praedestinatione sanctorum, De trinitate, the Epistolae, Liber 83 Quaestionum, and De vera innocentia,6 yet James cited Aristotle seventy-​five times, from nine different works. A similar Aristotle/​Augustine ratio is found in James’ third Quodlibet. Here James cited Augustine forty-​two times, citing Confessiones, De civitate dei, De doctrina christiana, De genesi contra Manichaeos, De genesi ad litteram, De libero arbitrio, De trintiate, the Epistolae and De diversis quaestionibus, and Aristotle seventy times. Based simply on a quantative analysis of James’ citations, Aristotle appears as James’ major source. Qualitatively, however, Augustine indeed was James’ primary authority, when, for example, we note that in question five of his second Quodlibet: “Whether there are seminal reasons in matter, inherent in matter itself?” (Utrum in materia sint rationes seminales eorum quae fiunt ex ipsa), a most “Augustinian” question, even though James cited Aristotle fifteen times and Averroes twenty-​two times, and Augustine only seven times, James’ overall argument sided with Augustine, as

4 Stephen D. Dumont, “The Authorship of the Quaestiones septem de Verbo Attributed to James of Viterbo,” in A Comparion to James of Viterbo, Appendix 1, 357–​375. 5 “Bezeichnend für Jakobs Lehrrichtung ist einmal sein enger Anschluß an Augustinus, dessen Schriften er—​nicht bloß aus Florilegien—​gut kennt und oftmal zitiert.” Zumkeller, Die Augustinerschule, 197. 6 De vera innocentia is pseudo-​ Augustinian; see Robert S. Sturgis, “Pseudo-​ Augustinian Writings,” in oghra 3: 1612–​1617.

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James affirmed at the outset by noting: “I respond that it is to be said that seminal reasons are in corporeal things [which] is agreed upon by all catholic doctors, since blessed Augustine explicitly posited such in many places.”7 James determined the question, the longest of the twenty-​four questions comprising his second Quodlibet, by defending Augustine’s position on rationes seminales, without, however, citing Augustine explicitly.8 When we turn to James’ De regimine, we find both a quantitative and a qualitative appeal to Augustine. Here, James cited Augustine forty-​three times, the most frequently cited authority after Scripture, which James cited 228 times. Aristotle is cited only twice, and the next most frequently cited source after Augustine is the Glossa Ordinaria with thirty-​four citations, followed by Isidore of Seville, with twenty-​seven. James cited from ten works of Augustine by title and chapter, in addition to citing Prosper of Aquitaine’s Sententiae beati Augustini once, and two unspecified citations to Augustine, citing Augustine simply as secundum Augustinum. De civitate dei is overwhelmingly the most frequently cited work of Augustine with twenty-​six of the forty-​three citations, followed by the Epistolae with four citations; De trinitate and the Sermones, each with two citations; and then single citations to De genesi ad litteram, De spiritu et anima, De magistro, De diversis quaestionibus, Enarrationes in Psalmos, and Confessiones. De spiritu et anima is the only pseudo-​Augustinian work James cited. James’ reliance on Augustine’s authority, however, was quantitatively not consistent. Of the forty-​three citations to Augustine, eighteen are found in two chapters, the first chapter of part 1 and the last chapter of part 2. In eleven of the sixteen chapters comprising the work, aside from scripture and the Glossa, James cited other authorities equally as (three chapters) or more often than (eight chapters) Augustine. Thus in part two, chapter eight, James cited Augustine twice, yet he cited Isidore of Seville four times, and Hugh of St. Victor, Bernard of Clairvaux, and Cyprian twice each; in part 2 ­chapter 5, James cited Augustine once, yet cited Bernard and Chrysostomus three times each, and Innocent iii twice; and in part 1, ­chapter 4, James cited Augustine three times, but Isidore five times. James’ most complete reliance on Augustine framed his treatise, with forty-​two percent of his Augustine citations coming in the very first chapter, dealing with the Church as a kingdom, and in the very last chapter, replying to objections to his arguments. For his discussion of the degrees of priestly and royal power and the primacy of the pope in De regimine 7 “Respondeo dicendum quod rationes seminales esse in rebus corporalibus ab omnibus doctoribus catholicis est concessum, cum beatus Augustinus in pluribus locis has ponat expresse.” Jacobi de Viterbo, Quodlibet 2, 5 (ed. Ypma, 1969, 59,15–​17). 8 Ibid. (ed.Ypma 1969, 95–​96).

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ii, 5, James relied more heavily on the authority of Bernard, Chrysostomus, and Innocent iii than he did on that of Augustine. Indeed, the core of James’ argument is not based primarily on Augustine, even as James placed his arguments within an Augustinian frame. 3

De Regimine Christiano

There is no consensus about James’ De regimine Christiano. As mentioned above, Arquillière considered James’ De regimine to have been the first treatise on the Church. Yet Robert Dyson, the most recent editor and translator of De regimine, considers Arquillière’s estimation, which was followed by Walter Ullmann, misplaced and overblown, claiming: It is hard to see that these statements have much to commend them as descriptions, and they tend to direct attention away from the significance of De regimine Christiano as a contribution to the great contest that was effectively to bring to an end the papacy’s claim to supremacy in temporals. The work may be interesting, if somewhat unremarkable, as an essay in ecclesiology; but it is in connection with the ideology of the papacy at the turn of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries that its chief importance to the historian lies.9 Dyson also disputes Ewart Lewis’ estimation of James’ De regimine as “one of the most impressive writings of the Middle Ages,” referring to the evaluation as “perhaps too much” for a work that in Dyson’s opinion was written in “circumstances of haste and crisis,”10 by a scholar who was “not the intellectual equal of Aegidius [Giles of Rome]” though seems to have enjoyed much success as a teacher.”11 A. Rizzacasa, however, claimed: If, therefore, it is true that the De regimine christiano for the most part constitutes the theoretical justification of Pope Boniface viii’s Unam Sanctam, it is also true that the theories espoused by James of Viterbo constitute the characterization of a relevant part of the Church’s history 9 Dyson, De regimine Christiano, xvi-​xvii; Dyson repeated this evaluation in his overview chapter in Côté and Pickavé, eds., A Companion to James of Viterbo, “De regimine Christiano and the Franco-​Papal Crisis of 1296–​1303,” 331–​356; 331. 10 Dyson, De regimine Christiano, xxxiii. 11 Ibid., xv.

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relative to a particularly delicate situation, so much so that it could be ‘crucial’.12 And Antoine Côtè referred to James as having been “one of a number of highly significant theologians” in the later thirteenth century, who was “very much an independent thinker.”13 The variations in estimation of De regimine, and of James himself, have their foundation, to a large degree, in a one’s view of the relationship between James and his De regimine and Giles of Rome and his De ecclesiastica potestate. The more derivative James is seen as having been, the more dependent on Giles, the lesser is the evaluation of the significance and quality of James’ work. While such assumptions may or may not have validity, there are, however, significant reasons to question the dependence of James on Giles, which would especially be the case if De regimine had been composed previous to Giles’ De ecclesiastica potestate. Regrettably the historical record does not yield sufficient evidence to make a clear determination with regard to dating De regimine, and scholars have assumed that either James and Giles composed their works more or less at the same time and independently of one another, or that James was dependent on Giles and very well may have had a copy of Giles’ treatise on his desk when he composed his own treatment of the Church and its power. Such assumptions need to be questioned. 4

Dating and Context

Dyson dates De regimine, based on his review of the evidence, which he admits is thus based on “conjecture,” to “the early spring and summer of 1302: some little time after the promulgation of Ausculta fili, but somewhat before James’s appointment as Archbishop of Benevento.”14 In other words, between 5 December 1301 when Boniface viii issued Ausculta fili and 3 September 1302, 12

“Pertanto, se è vero che il De regimine christiano costituisce in gran parte la giustificazione teorica dell’Unam Sanctam di papa Bonifacio viii, è anche vero che le teorie esposte da Giacomo da Viterbo costituiscono la caratterizzazione di un tratto rilevante della storia della Chiesa relativo ad una situazione particolarmente delicata, tanto da poter essere difinita ‘cruciale’.” A. Rizzacasa, “L’agostinismo di Giacomo da Viterbo e di Egidio Romano,” in Pasquale Giustiniani and Gianpiero Tavolaro, eds., Giacom da Viterbo al Tempo di Bonifacio VIII. Studi per il VII Centenario della Morte (Rome, 2011), 81–​106; 92. 13 Antoine Côtè, “James of Viterbo,” in Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, online at: https://​ plato.stanf​ord.edu/​entr​ies/​james-​vite​rbo/​. 14 Dyson, De regimine Christiano, xxviii.

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when James was appointed archbishop. Yet Dyson, drawing on Richard Scholz, dates Giles’ De ecclesiastica potestate to the same period, namely, between February and August 1302, claiming that Giles too wrote his work “in haste and with little or no revision.”15 If this were indeed the case, it seems unlikely that James could have had a copy of Giles’ work on his desk, or that Giles might have had a copy of James’, negating the possibility that one was dependent on the other. More recently I have argued that De regimine Christiano should be dated to James’ time as magister regens at Paris, thus suggesting a date of 1298 or 1299.16 Such an earlier dating would place the relationship between James’ De regimine and Giles’ De ecclesiastica potestate in very different light. What therefore is the evidence for the various dates? Given that there is no clear evidence for the date of De regimine Christiano’s composition, we should review the evidence and the various possibilities.17 James dedicated his work to Boniface viii, and in his dedicatory letter there is no indication that this was a post mortem work. Boniface died on 11 October 1303. Boniface had issued Unam sanctam on 18 November 1302. Dyson pointed to some indications of the relationship between De regimine and Unam sanctam, namely, that De regimine offered in Part One a commentary of sorts of the words of the Creed as the Church being one, holy, catholic, and apostolic, the point of departure for Unam sanctam, suggesting that De regimine could be read as “an extended commentary on Unam sanctam or an elaboration of it.”18 If De regimine had been composed as a commentary on Unam sanctam, it would have been composed then between 18 November 1302 and11 October 1303. Yet James refers to himself in his work simply as a brother of the Order of Hermits of St. Augustine, with no reference to his episcopate,19 whereas Giles of Rome, for example, includes his position as archbishop in his dedication to Boniface of his De ecclesiastica potestate.20 While this may not be conclusive, it seems to suggest strongly that James had composed De regimine before his appointment as Archbishop of Benevento on 3 September 1302, thus two months before Boniface issued Unam sanctam, and consequently, if there was a literary relationship between De regimine and Unam sanctam, De regimine 15 Dyson, Giles of Rome’s On Ecclesiastical Government, xx. 16 Saak, “Life and Works,” in A Companion to James of Viterbo, 27–​29. 17 Cf. Dyson, De regiminie Christiano. xvii-​xviii; Dyson, “De Regimine Christiano and the Franco-​Papal Crisis of 1296–​1303,” 339–​340. 18 Dyson, De regimine Christiano, xviii. Dyson notes that “… if there is a literary relation between Unam sanctam and De regimine Christiano, we have no way of establishing in which direct it lies, and there may, indeed, be no such relation at all.” Ibid. 19 Jac.Vit., De reg. Chr., Prol. (ed. Dyson, 2); Dyson notes this as well; Jac.Vit., De reg. Chr., xviii. 20 Aeg.Rom., De eccl. pot., Ep. (ed. Dyson., xxx).

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served to inform Unam sanctam rather than being a commentary on it, much as Giles’ De ecclesiastica potestate has been shown to have been a major source for Boniface.21 We can then take 3 September 1302 as the terminus ad quem. What however might have been the terminus a quo? Dyson posits that De regimine Christiano could only have been written after the promulgation of Boniface viii’s Bull Ausculta fili on 5 December 1301 when “the pope’s quarrel with Philip iv had turned into a major confrontation,” yet the only evidence he brings forward is that given the nature of De regimine Christiano it “seems unlikely” that it would have predated the conflict.22 Yet Dyson also claimed that No one unaware of its context would be able to infer from the text of De regimine Christiano that it was produced during an international crisis of the highest significance. It is a controversial treatise, but one that holds itself tactically apart from the specifics and personalities of the controversy.23 This stylistic character was not so much that of curial polemics as it was one based on an academic context, related, as Helmut Walther has shown, to the discussions in the Arts and Theological faculties at Paris concerning the reception of Aristotle’s Politics.24 Such a context suggests a dating of De regimine Christiano to the period of James’ regency at Paris, that is, from 1293–​1300 more than it does the context of the Augustinian studium at Naples, which James led from 1300–​1302 and his appointment as archbishop. Walther, however, claims that James composed De regimine Christiano virtually at the same time as Giles had De ecclesiastica potestate, based on what he called “clear textual references” (klare textliche Bezüge) in James’ work to Boniface’s Ausculta fili, so that it could only have been written after 5 December 1301.25 Walther based this on Dyson’s introduction to his edition of De regimine Christiano, but here, as just mentioned, Dyson simply considered it “unlikely” that such a treatise as James’ could have been composed before Ausculta fili and the major confrontation 21

Jean Rivière, Le Probléme de l’Église et de l’État au Temps de Philippe le Bel. Étude de Théologie positive (Paris, 1926). 22 Dyson, De regimine Christiano, xvii. 23 Dyson, “De regimine Christian and the Franco-​Papal Crisis of 1296–​1303,” 341. 24 Helmut G. Walther, “Aegidius Romanus und Jakob von Viterbo—​oder: Was vermag Aristoteles, was Augustinus nicht kann?” in Martin Kaufhold, ed., Politische Reflexion in der Welt des späten Mittelalters/​Political Thought in the Age of Scholasticism. Essays in Honour if Jürgen Miethke, smrt 103 (Leiden, 2004), 151–​169; 160. 25 Ibid., 158.

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resulting therefrom, while then still basing his dating on that assumption,26 and Walther gives no further indication as to what such clear textual references might be. Consequently we must ask whether indeed Ausculta fili can serve as the terminus a quo. Dyson claimed that “De regimine Christiano is James of Viterbo’s only venture into the field of political controversy,”27 but this is not quite the case. The last decade of the thirteen century was one of increasing political controversy and the masters at Paris were in the thick of things. In 1290, Godfrey of Fontaine held a Quodlibet, question seven of which dealt with the issue of taxation. He did so in the midst of controversy between the secular masters and the mendicants, which became of such importance that Pope Nicholas iv sent Cardinal Benedict Gaetani to Paris in 1290 to deal with the issue. Cardinal Gaetani called on Giles of Rome to help in the matter in removing Henry of Ghent from office, being very clear that the “before the Roman Curia would abolish the privileges of the mendicants, it would bring the University of Paris to its knees.”28 Tensions were running high, which were simply exacerbated by the international situation. In February 1291, Cardinal Gaetani had been able diplomatically to bring about the Treaty of Tarascon, which established peace between Aragon, Sicily, and Naples, ending the conflict that had begun with the Sicilian Vespers of 30 March 1282. Unfortunately, however, it was a peace short lived. Alfonso of Aragon died on 18 June 1291, rendering the Treaty of Tarascon virtually worthless. News reached Rome in August of the Fall of Acre on 18 May 1291, and then on 4 April 1292, Pope Nicholas iv died, which marked the beginning of an extended papal vacancy, lasting until 5 July 1294 with the election of Peter Marrone, who took the name Celestine v.29 Yet there were also problems closer to home, so to speak. Philip iv’s increasing need to levy taxes to fund his wars against England brought to the fore

26 Dyson, De regimine, xvii-​xviii; cf. Dyson, “De regimine Christian and the Franco-​Papal Crisis of 1296–​1303,” 340. 27 Dyson, “De regimine Christian and the Franco-​Papal Crisis of 1296–​1303,” 331. 28 Unde dominus Benedictus vocans magistrum Johannem de Murro et magistrum Egidium precepti eis, quod predictum magistrum Hinricum ab officio lectionis suspenderet. Quod fact fuit … dixit dominus Benedictus: Vos magistri Parisienses, stultam fecistis et factis doctrinam scientie vestre, turbantes orbem terrarum, quod nullo modo faceretis, si sciretis status universalis ecclesie. Sedetis in cathedris et putatis, quod vestris rationibus regatur Christus … Vere dico vobis: antequam curia Romana a dictis fratribus hoc privilegium ammoveret, potius studium Parisiense confunderet.” Heinrich Finke, Aus den Tagen Bonifaz VIII. Funde und Forschungen (Münster, 1902), Quellen, vi-​vii. See also ibid, 9–​24. 29 See Saak, High Way to Heaven, 16–​24.

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questions of legitimacy, including the pope’s right to issue dispensations. As M.S. Kempshall put it, Any discussion of the legitimacy of the pope’s right to dispense from existing legislation necessarily involved discussion of the nature of papal power within the church. Any discussion of the legitimacy of taxation, meanwhile, necessarily involved a discussion of the nature of lordship (dominium) within the political community. Since taxation in the 1280s and 1290s was ecclesiastical as well as lay, lordship was understood, in this instance, to cover the spiritual as well as the temporal power, the relationship of the pope to material goods of the church as well as the relationship of the king to the material goods of his subjects. Moreover, since there was an intrinsic connection between lordship defined as ownership of property and lordship defined as exercise of jurisdiction, any analysis of the particular issue of taxation necessarily had wider implications for the exercise of all authority within human society.30 This was the context of Godfrey’s Quodlibet of 1290. And this was the context in which James studied in Paris, and then, when the Augustinian regent master Giles of Rome was elected as prior general of the oesa on 4 January 1292, James became his successor31 and held his first Quodlibet disputation in 1293. Question seventeen of this Quodlibet dealt with the question of whether the pope can absolve someone from usury without restitution having been made. This was in the midst of the papal vacancy, political turmoil, and discussions of taxation, usury, papal jurisdiction, and the common good in the university. It was certainly a foray into political controversy. 5

James in Paris

As a student and then as regent master in Paris, James was throughout the last decade of the thirteenth century in ongoing conversation with Godfrey of Fontaines.32 As mentioned above, Godfrey gave his Quodlibet in 1290 on taxation, and in many ways, James’ first Quodlibet of 1293 can be seen as a reply. At issue for Godfrey, according to Kempshall, was the common good, or the 30 31 32

M.S. Kempshall, The Common Good in Late Medieval Political Thought (Oxford, 1999), 236. The dating of James’ regency is not without problems. He may have assumed the regency in 1293, or in 1292. See Saak, “Life and Works,” 19, n. 36. See Kempshall, The Common Good, 204–​263.

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good of the res publica, whereby taxation, even extraordinary taxation, was legitimate if it was imposed to serve a greater good, namely, benefiting the res publica.33 In treating the question “Whether the pope is able to absolve someone who has committed usury without the usurer making restitution?,”34 James used the concept of the common good as well, answering that the pope can do so if it is for the good of the Church, which he equated with a Christian res publica. Citing Augustine’s De civitate dei, 2, 21, James argued that “there is no true justice in a state (res publica) whose leader (rector) is not Christ. Wherefore a state (res publica) is not right and true, which is the type of state that a state of Christian people should be, in which the rulership (gubernatio) does not by law look to the pope, who is the vicar of Christ.”35 Both taxes and the profits of usury, as Kempshall put it, “became an important political and financial issue in the 1290s as a result of Philip iv’s exactions from Jews, Lombards, and Florentines,”36 which would eventually involve the king directly with Boniface viii’s Clericis laicos on 5 February 1296, setting off the first round of conflict between the papacy and the French monarchy. Yet when James held his first quodlibetal disputation, Christendom was in the midst of a papal vacancy, though the issues were very present indeed, and James took the opportunity to address the power and jurisdiction of the pope. James began his answer to the question by claiming that the usurer cannot be absolved unless he either makes restitution of that which he had gained unjustly, or it is freely conceded and given to him what he had gained by usury from the injured party. Therefore, the pope cannot absolve the usurer without restitution being made, unless the pope would be able by law to grant to the usurer what he had acquired illegally, or to cancel the debt of the money owed that he had acquired illegally. Yet the pope cannot do this unless he were to have power and jurisdiction over temporal goods, since money itself and that which is able to be measured by money are temporal goods. Therefore, James argued, first to be considered is the pope’s power or jurisdiction over temporal 33 34

Ibid., 250. “Utrum papa possit absolvere aliquem usurarium, absque hoc quod usuras restituat.” Jacobus de Viterbio, Disputationes de quolibet 1, q. 17, ed. Eelcko Ypma, 4 vols. (Würzburg, 1968–​1975), 1, 207,1–​2; hereafter cited as Jac.Vit. Quodlibet, with page numbers to the edition given in parenthesis. 35 “Haec autem ratio confirmari potest per Augustinum, ii libro De Civitate Dei capitulo 21, ubi dicit quod sine iustitia non potest regi res publica. Vera autem iustitia non est in re publica, cuius Christus non est rector. Quare non est res publica recta et vera, cuiusmodi debet esse res populi Christiani, in qua non spectat de iure gubernatio ad papam, qui est Christi vicarius.” Ibid. (ed. Ypma, 210,117–​211,122). 36 Kempshall, The Common Good, 250.

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things. Second, then, is to investigate the relationship of ecclesiastical and secular princes to those goods over which they have power. Only once these two issues can be determined did James feel he could answer the question posed.37 Thus for James, a question about usury, property, restitution, and absolution was implicitly first of all a question of papal power, and James gave a rather unambiguous answer. James began by recognizing various positions on the issue of papal power and jurisdiction. Some scholars, James pointed out, claim that the pope only has spiritual power, and does not have temporal jurisdiction. Others, though, argue that the pope has both spiritual and temporal power.38 James firmly sided with the second opinion, claiming it “seems to be more rational” since “the spiritual power is superior to the temporal power not only in terms of dignity, but also with respect to causality.”39 Temporal power indeed depends on the spiritual power as its cause.40 Here James brought in the issue of virtue, as had Godfrey, to claim that with respect to the order of causality, the final cause of both temporal and spiritual power is the common good (bonum multitudinis), which principally consists in living according to virtue which yields happiness (felicitas), “which is the complete and final good.”41 Yet the

37

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39 40 41

“Respondeo dicendum est, quod ille, qui detinet iniuste rem alienam, absolvi non potest, nisi ipsam restituat, vel ei libere concedatur et donetur ab illo, ad quem de iure pertinet illa res. Et quia usurarius rem alienam iniuste detinet, ideo papa ipsum non potest absolvere, absque hoc quod usuras restituat, nisi possit ei de iure donare aut relaxare pecuniam, quam illicite lucratus est. Quia vero pecunia, vel id quod pecunia mensurari potest, est aliquid temporale, ideo papa huiusmodi donationem seu relaxationem facere non potest, nisi potestatem habeat et iurisdictionem habeat super temporalibus. Unde, ad evidentiam propositae quaestionis: Primo, considerandum est de potestate sive iurisdictione, quam habet papa in temporalibus. Secundo, videndum quomodo se habent tam praelati ecclesiastici quam principes saeculares ad bona temporalia, quae ipsorum subiacent potestati. Tertio vero, ex his descendendum est ad id, quod in quaestione proponitur.” Jac.Vit, Quodlibet 1, q. 17 (ed. Ypma, 207,7–​21). “Quantum igitur ad primum, sciendum est quod de potestate papae diversi diversimode senserunt. Quidam enim dixerunt, quod papa solum habet potestatem spiritualem; iurisdictionem vero temporalem non habet, nisi ex concessione saecularium principum … Alii vero dicunt, quod papa utramque potestatem habet.” Jac.Vit. Quodlibet 1, q. 17 (ed. Ypma, 207,23–​208,40). “Et haec secunda opinio rationabilior esse videtur. Cuius ratio est, quia spiritualis potestas temporali superior est, non solum dignitate, sed etiam causalitate.” JacVit., Quodlibet 1, q. 17 (ed. Ypma, 208,48–​50). “Quod enim sit superior causalitate, quia videlicet a spirituali potestate dependet temporalis, sicut a causa.” Jac.Vit., Quodlibet 1, q. 17 (ed. Ypma, 209,58–​59). “Finis autem, quam intendere debet tam saecularis quam spiritualis potestats, est bonum multitudinis, quod principaliter consistit in hoc, quod est vivere secundum virtutem. In

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common good of the secular power differs from that of the spiritual. The secular power is directed toward the common good by the virtue of nature whereas the spiritual power has a supernatural end, namely, eternal blessedness, and thus is superior to temporal power, since we pursue the supernatural good not only by living a life of virtue, but also by the working of Christ, and consequently, of Christ’s vicar, who is therefore simply superior to the temporal power both in dignity and in terms of causality.42 Thus “just as a superior art commands an inferior one in terms of how it should function, so the spiritual power commands the secular.”43 The laws for how one should live thus come from the spiritual power, or the pope, communicated to the temporal jurisdiction to execute and enforce. Secular princes therefore “are not to receive any laws unless they are first approved by the pope.”44 The spiritual power is a power of royal priesthood, because Christ is both king and priest and therefore his vicar has royal and priestly power, and “through him royal power is established, ordained, sanctified, and blessed.”45 The pope therefore has both powers directly from God, whereas the secular prince has his temporal power from God mediated through the pope.46 Yet in one way it can be said that the pope does not have temporal power, but this is to be understood with respect to the normal course of operation and the immediate exercise of temporal power. The pope makes such concessions in order to keep the peace among princes, and consequently for the Church, and thus prelates should not hastily enter into secular affairs.47 Secular princes, though, are not themselves lords operatione namque virtutis consistit felicitas, quae est perfectum et finale bonum.” Jac. Vit., Quodlibet 1, q. 17 (ed. Ypma, 210,89–​93); cf. Kempshall, The Common Good, 204–​234. 42 Jac.Vit., Quodlibet 1, q. 17 (ed. Ypma, 210,94–​103). 43 “Sicut enim ars superior praecipit inferiori qualiter debeat operari, sic et spirtiualis potestas imperat saeculari.” Jac.Vit., Quodlibet 1, q. 17 (ed. Ypma, 210,103–​104). 44 “Hinc est, quod papa tradit leges principibus, secundum quas etiam temporalem iurisdictionem exequi et exercere debeant. Nec possunt saeculares principes aliunde leges accipere, nisi prius per papam fuerint approbate.” Jac.Vit., Quodlibet 1, q. 17 (ed. Ypma, 210,105–​108). 45 “Hinc etiam est, quod spiritualis regale sacerdotum dicitur. Quia Christus rex est et sacerdos, ideoque ipsius vicarius potestatem habet regalem et sacerdotalem, et per ipsum regalis potestas instituitur, ordinatur, sanctificatur et benedicitur.” Jac.Vit., Quodlibet 1, q. 17 (ed. Ypma, 210,109–​112). 46 “Ita quod papa utramque potestatem habet a Deo immediate, princeps vero saecularis habet a Deo mediante papa.” Jac.Vit., Quodlibet 1, q. 17 (ed. Ypma, 211,126–​128). 47 “Unde, cum papa dicit aliquando se iurisdictionem temporalem non habere, intelligendum est qu antum ad regularem et immediatam executionem. In hoc etiam vult pacem principum conservare, et per consequens Ecclesiae. Inducuntur etiam ex hoc praelati Ecclesiae, ne sint proni ad intromittendum se de negotiis saecularibus.” Jac.Vit., Quodlibet 1, q. 17 (ed. Ypma, 214,221–​225).

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having direct dominium over their lands and goods. They are, in a sense, vassals, though this is not the term James used, who are to serve as stewards and administrators.48 The spiritual power should only involve itself in the secular affairs of the temporal power with good cause and reason (ex rationabili causa), just as secular princes should not seize the temporal goods of their subjects without reasonable cause, since they are administrators of such goods, and not lords. Thus, when there is legitimate cause, the pope can indeed absolve a usurer from the sin of usury without restitution being made, providing that doing so is legitimate based on the utility of the Church, preserving peace, and for the common good, for the pope’s authority is fuller and more primary than that of any secular prince.49 James not only asserted the supremacy of the pope to whom secular princes are subject effectively as vassals, but he also claimed the right of the pope to intervene in temporal affairs beyond the traditional justification of doing so in causa peccati. With good reason, the pope can exercise temporal rule, and thus, with good reason, the pope can absolve a usurer even when the usurer has not made restitution. However, caution must be used. A pope can intervene only with sufficient, reasonable cause based on the good of the Church and the common good. A pope who would simply assert his authority and power, which the pope does have, without sufficient reason and cause would be abusing his power, and this then was the problem that Godfrey saw and to which returned during the period 1295–​1298, in the after math of Clericis laicos, in attempt to guard against an abuse of the pope’s temporal interference. Much like James, Godfrey upheld the authority and power of the pope. Godfrey however did so in context of the rights of princes in general, even while acknowledging the primacy of the pope. A prince can tax his subjects if doing so is for the common good. Yet Philip iv was pushing matters rather beyond what they theoretically should be, and Godfrey wanted to assert clear guards on a prince’s indiscriminate appeal to the common good for his own particular ends.50 The same then applied to the pope, and after Clericis laicos, Godfrey departed from James with respect to the pope’s authority. While the spiritual power indeed had jurisdiction and authority over the temporal power,

48

“Viso igitur de potestate papae aliqualiter, considerandum est, qualiter se habere debent tam principes saeculares quam praelati ecclesiastici, ad bona temporalia illorum, qui subsunt potestati eorum. Sic autem se habent ad illa, quod non sunt domini talium bonorum, sed procuratores et tutores et dispensatores.” Jac.Vit., Quodlibet 1, q. 17 (ed. Ypma, 214,226–​230). 49 Jac.Vit., Quodlibet 1, q. 17 (ed. Ypma, 214,238–​215,274). 50 Kempshall, The Common Good, 252–​257.

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the ownership and use of those rights are not the possession of a single individual, but of the Church as a whole. The pope “is only the principal and general distributor, the steward (procurator) of its [scil. the Church’s] temporal possessions.”51 Whereas James had posited the common good as the rational cause for the pope intervening in temporal affairs, Godfrey began to use the concept of the common good as a means of limiting papal abuse of power.52 It was in this context that in his eleventh Quodlibet, dated to 1295/​96, Godfrey turned to explicate Aristotle’s discussion of whether a state is better governed by the best ruler or by the best laws, from book iii of Aristotle’s Politics, arguing that the common good is the determining factor. The law has priority, and if a ruler is to act outside the established law, he can only do so based on the common good, not his own interests.53 This was the same question that James addressed in question thirty of his fourth Quodlibet, dated approximately to the same time as Godfrey’s, namely, 1296. James does not base his answer on the common good, at least explicitly. He gives arguments for both positions, namely, that it is better to be ruled by the best ruler and that it is better to be ruled by the best laws. The problem with each of these positions though is that both an individual ruler and laws are able to be corrupted. A ruler is able to be corrupted, regardless of how good he might be, by anger and concupiscence, and laws can be corrupted not only by how they might be applied, but also because they do not deal with all possible cases.54 Thus, James claimed, the best solution is that it is best to be ruled by both the best ruler and by the best laws, for law without human application does not suffice for the most perfect form of government since a human ruler has to apply the law. But likewise, a ruler without the law does not suffice for the most complete form of government for without law, a ruler would govern at least at times based on his own desires and/​or based on being deceived. Law does not suffer such defects.55 Therefore, James concluded, “neither law without a ruler, nor a ruler without law suffices for good government.”56 James based his position on his definitions of what makes for the best ruler and constitutes the best laws. The best ruler (optimus vir), James asserted, is one “whose reason is right (recta) based on prudence, not only with respect to

51 Ibid., 257. 52 Ibid., 257–​261. 53 Ibid., 252–​253. 54 Jac.Vit., Quodlibet iv, q. 30 (ed. Ypma, 107,2–​108,33). 55 Jac.Vit., Quodlibet iv, q. 30 (ed. Ypma, 109,46–​61). 56 “Igitur nec lex sine homine, nec homo sine lege sufficit ad bonum regimen.” Jac.Vit, Quodlibet iv, q. 30 (ed. Ypma, 109,60–​61).

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himself but also with respect to the body politic, and one whose desire (appetitus) is right (recta) based on moral virtues.”57 The best laws then are said to be those that are in keeping with, or at least not in opposition to, the natural law and are fitting for the body politic or the state. For just as nature works what is best not simply in and of itself but in keeping with the substance of each and every thing, so the good legislator institutes the best laws not simply in and of themselves but according to what is needed for the state and condition of the community for the purpose of its direction.58 Both of these definitions are based on natural principles, on natural reason and virtues. In this context James showed his preference for being ruled by the best laws if a choice has to be made between the best man or the best laws, for if we are speaking about the good of man which is acquired from natural principles, it is better to be ruled by the best laws than by the best man, for although there can be defects in both a ruler and in the law, nevertheless, given that the law is observed, fewer discrepancies will come about from a government of law than from a government of even the best man, because law concerns what is for the multitude, a man, however, without the grace of God, is able to be perverted in many ways.59 This is the first time James brought in the issue of grace and divine law. He had been basing his analysis for the question on the natural condition, stemming from Aristotle, as had Godfrey. Yet whereas Godfrey used the common good 57 58

59

“Optimus autem vir est ille cuius ratio est recta per prudentiam, non solum privatam sed etiam politicam, et cuius appetitus est rectus per virtutes morales.” Jac.Vit., Quodlibet iv, q. 30 (ed. Ypma, 108,37–​39). “Optimae autem leges dicuntur quae consonant vel saltem non repugnant iuri naturali, et quae conveniunt politicae vel rei publicae. Nam sicut natura operatur quod optimum est, non simpliciter sed ut congruit substantiae uniuscuiusque, sic bonus legislator optimas leges instituit, non simpliciter sed secundum quod exigit status et conditio communitatis cuius directio intenditur.” Jac.Vit., Quodlibet iv, q. 30 (ed. Ypma, 108,40–​109,45). “Sed si alterum horum solum oporteret accipere, tunc dicendum quod, si loquamur de bonitate hominis quae habetur per acquisitionem ex principiis naturalibus, melius est regi lege optima quam viro optimo. Licet enim posset esse defectus et in homine et in lege, tamen, supposita observatione legis, pauciora inconvenientia acciderent ex regimine legis quam ex regimine talis optimi viri, quia lex considerat quod est in pluralibus, homo autem sine gratia Dei multipliciter potest perverti.” Jac.Vit., Quodlibet iv, q. 30 (ed. Ypma, 109,62–​68).

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as the determining factor, James brought in God’s grace and God’s law, even as he intimated the importance of the common good in so far as the law concerns the multitude. Yet it is only here, at the end of his treatment of the question, that James brought in the issue of grace and God, and with this consideration, James argued that it is better to be ruled by a man, but by a man infused with good by the grace of God: But if we speak about the infused good of man, which is through the grace of God, which we read about having been the case in many princes, it would be better to be ruled by such a best man than by human law, which the question concerns, although it would not be better than to be ruled by the law handed down by the nod of God. For such a man would be guided by the infused gift to judge cases quickly and would be preserved from deviance or perversity. And if it might be argued in the contrary by noting that a ruler is the minister of the law, it should be said that a ruler is also the founder of the law and is the living law (animata lex), for what pleases the prince with right reason has the force of law.60 James established in effect a hierarchy of “best rule,” whereby being ruled by divine law would be best of all; then being ruled by a ruler in a state of grace with infused virtue; and then, strictly with respect to natural principles and human law, it would be best to be ruled by both the best law and the best ruler together; but if one had to choose, then it would be best to be ruled by the best law rather than by the best ruler, even one who had acquired virtues from natural principles, and here the common good does have a role, for the best law concerns the multitude. Though James does not explicitly state as much, the corollary is that the best government would be one that was ruled by a ruler in a state of grace, infused with virtue, administering divine law as handed down by God. Were such a government to exist, the ruler would indeed be the “living law,” the lex animata, a concept derived from Aristotle and found perhaps for the first time in the later Middle Ages in Giles of Rome’s De regimine principum and then again in his De renuntiatione pape, and made a central concept for

60

“Si vero loquamur de bonitate hominis infusa, quae est per gratiam Dei, qualem in pluribus principibus fuisse legimus, melius esset regi tali optimo viro quam lege humana, de qua procedit quaestio, licet non melius quam lege Dei nutu tradita. Talis enim vir dirigeretur per donum infusum ad cito iudicandum de singulis, et praeservaretur ab obliquitate seu perversitate. Et si obiciatur quod homo est minister legis, dicendum quod homo etiam est conditor legis et est animata lex. Quod enim principi placuit cum ratione recta, legis habet vigorem.” Jac.Vit., Quodlibet iv, q. 30 (ed. Ypma, 110,69–​77).

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Engelbert of Admont’s De regimine principum (1290).61 James had not used the term previously, and here it appears in the context of the best government being associated with divine law and a ruler in a state of grace. Contrary to Dyson’s assertion that James’ De regimine was his only foray into political controversy stands James’ quodlibetic disputations and the academic and political context of the 1290s. Roughly at the same time as James’ fourth Quodlibet, though perhaps shortly before or shortly thereafter, Boniface viii issued Clericis Laicos, which set off a political controversy of the first order with Philip iv, and elicited Giles of Rome’s defense of Boniface after the Colonna cardinals had issued an forceful argument that Boniface was in fact not the legitimate pope since the papacy was not an office that could be resigned, and Celestine v had done precisely that, even at Boniface’s urging, namely, his De renuntiatione pape of 1297. James’ experiences in Paris had prepared him well so that there is little wonder that he would have composed a major treatise dealing with issue of papal power and ecclesiastical government, given his working through the issues in his Quodlibet 1, q. 17 and Quodlibet iv, q. 30. Indeed, James’ Quodlibet iv, q. 30 may very well have served as his source for his treatment of the best form of government in De regimine Christiano 2,5: … the kingdom of the Church is ordered in the best way and according to the best mode of government insofar as it is founded and disposed according to the best principle. But the best principle for the government of a multitude is that it be ruled by one. The government of ther Church is therefore disposed in such a way that one man presides over the whole Church.62 And James had already established that all laws and powers are from God, who rules his kingdom, the Church, through his providence.63 And whereas James had argued in Quodlibet i, q. 17 that the final cause of both temporal and spiritual power is the common good (bonum multitudinis), which principally

61

See Landon B. Crouse, Engelbert of Admont’s De regimine principum and lex animata: A study in the eclecticism of the medieval Aristotelian political tradition, Unpublished MA Thesis, iupui, May 2018. 62 “… quia regnum ecclesie est optime ordinatum et secundum optimum regiminis modum utpote ab optimo principio institutum atque dispositum. Optimum autem regimen multitudinis est ut regatur per unum. Igitur ecclesie regimen sic est dispositum ut unum toti ecclesie presit.” Jac.Vit., De regimine 2,5 (ed. Dyson, 180); trans. Dyson, 181. 63 Jac.Vit., De reg. 1,2 (ed. Dyson, 22).

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consists in living according to virtue which yields happiness (felicitas), “which is the complete and final good,”64 in De regimine he asserted: For secular power, if it is well ordered, intends as its principal and final purpose to direct and lead subjects to a virtuous life, which pertains to the soul. For all rightful power among men ought to strive after that to which man is finally ordered, and the end of man, considered as man, is happiness (felicitas). Hence every rightful power ought to intend that the multitude subject to it be happy (felix). But the happiness of man consists principally in the activity of virtue, and so it pertains to the office of such power to direct men to this end. And because the external goods that serve bodily life are required for happiness, and espeically political happiness, the government of the external and corporeal things without which the tasks of the soul may not be performed in this state of life therefore properly belongs to that office. According to this, therefore, it seems that secular power ought principally to be called spiritual, taking ‘spiritual’ in the sense just stated, because the virtuous life pertains to the soul, which is spiritual.65 Indeed, James’ Quodlibet 1, q. 17 appears as a first attempt at distinguishing spiritual and temporal royal power, which he then greatly expanded in De regimine Christiano 2, ­chapters 4 and 5.66 Whereas in his Quodlibet 1, q. 17 James had evaluated the relationship between spiritual and temporal power, in De regimine Christiano he did so based on a government that would be true and just, a Christian government that would look to the pope as ruler. Helmut Walther has pointed to the academic style and character of De regimine Christiano,67 and James himself, in his dedicatory letter to Boniface, referred to himself as “Brother James of Viterbo, of the Order of Hermits of Saint Augustine, professor in the faculty of theology, though unworthy.”68 This 64

“Finis autem, quam intendere debet tam saecularis quam spiritualis potestas, est bonum multitudinis, quod principaliter consistit in hoc, quod est vivere secundum virtutem. In operatione namque virtutis consistit felicitas, quae est perfectum et finale bonum.” JacVit., Quodlibet 1, q. 17 (ed. Ypma, 210,89–​93); cf. Kempshall, The Common Good, 204–​234. 65 Jac.Vit., De reg. 2, 6 (Dyson, 200; trans. Dyson, 201). 66 Jac.Vit., De reg. 2, 4–​5 (Dyson, 146–​166). 67 Walther, “Aegidius Romanus und Jakob von Viterbo,” 167. 68 Jac.Vit., De reg., Epistola ad Bonifacium (ed. Dyson, 2; trans. 3) Saak, “Life and Works,” 27–​28; Ugo Mariani, Scrittori politici Agostiniani del sec. XIV (Florence, 1927) 75, n. 1; James then in ­chapter 1 of Part 1 again claimed: “I also, then, being a member of the fraternity of doctors of theology in number if not in merit—​for I have little wisdom and skill in speech—​leaning upon His help and grace …” Jac.Vit., De reg, 1,1 (ed. Dyson, 7).

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statement has been used to argue that James then had composed his treatise before being appointed archbishop.69 The question that we should ask though is to what does the phrase “professor in the faculty of theology” refer? Boniface’s letter appointing James as Archbishop of Benevento is addressed to James “of the order of brother Hermits, constituted as professor in the priesthood,” not as professor in the faculty of theology.70 There was indeed no such faculty in Naples.71 James does not explicitly state that the faculty of theology was that of the University of Paris, but while other universities in the late thirteenth century had faculties of theology, Paris was the faculty of theology and such a statement would have been read as referring to Paris. It would seem then that James was still magister regens at Paris when he penned his dedicatory letter to Boniface. If so, then the composition of De regimine Christiano should be dated prior to 1300 when James left Paris for Benevento. De regimine Christiano, as mentioned above, in style and content indicates an academic setting, and we know that John of Paris knew James’ first Quodlibet and wrote against it.72 As Walther speculated, though, John may have also known James’ De regimine Christiano, to which he responded in his own De regia potestate et papali: For James of Viterbo, the Church had become, with the help of Aristotle filtered through Thomas, an ideal regnum based on the God’s providence. This is precisely the conclusion that John of Paris fought vehemently against in his De regia potestate et papali. Did therefore James of Viterbo find in the theses of the Parisian Dominican such a challenge that he could only answer him with his own treatise De regimine Christiano, in which he expanded and supported with Aristotle his previous treatment in Quodlibet 1,17, or was it not the other way around? Is it not more likely that John of Paris found in the latest treatise of his political opponent, James of Viterbo, the most important exposition for his own political philosophical work?73

69 Dyson, James of Viterbo, xviii. 70 Boniface viii, Arch. Vat. Reg. an. Viii, fol. 210v; as cited by Mariani, Scrittori politici Agostiniani, 75, n. 1; Saak, “Life and Works,” 28. 71 Saak, “Life and Works,” 28. 72 Karl Ubl, “Die Genese der Bulle Unam Sanctam: Anlass, Vorlagen, Intention,” in Martin Kaufhold, ed., Politische Reflexion in der Welt des späten Mittelalters/​Political Thought in the Age of Scholasticism. Essays in Honour if Jürgen Miethke, smrt 103 (Leiden, 2004), 136. 73 Walther, “Aegidius Romanus und Jakob von Viterbo,” 169.

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Here Walther simply suggests the possibility that James had completed his De regimine before John of Paris had published his De regia potestate et papali, in which he was responding to James. A firm date for De regia potestate et papali, however, is not possible. Miethke dates the work to the second half of 1302 or the first weeks of 1303,74 by which time James had already left Paris. Ubl argued that John had prepared a first draft of his work already in early 1302 in response to Boniface’s Ausculta fili, a hypothesis that Walther considers to be “scarcely provable” and without evidence.75 Indeed, it seems perhaps impossible to definitively determine the chronological order of Giles’ De ecclesiastica potestate, James’ De regimine Christiano, and John’s De regia potestate et papali. Traditionally scholars have assumed that James knew Giles’ work, and that has been the basis for speculation on the relative relationships between these three authors and Unam sanctam. Rivière had demonstrated that Boniface used Giles De ecclesiastica potestate for the construction of Unam sanctam,76 but that then has been the only accepted secure point of reference, namely, that Giles’ work was completed before November 1302. It could be that all three authors worked independently and published their works more or less at the same time. Yet scholars have also pointed to the parallels between Giles’ De ecclesiastica potestate and James’ De regimine Christiano that are sufficient to prove textual dependence. If therefore James had indeed drawn from Giles’ De ecclesiastica potestate, and seemingly had a copy of it on his desk as he composed his own work, then my above suggestion for a date of De regimine Christiano to the time before James left Paris cannot be valid. 6

James and Giles

Before we could come to a more secure position on the relationship between James’ De regimine Christiano and Giles’ De ecclesiastica potestate, a more thorough analysis and comparison of the two treatises and the relevant other works of both authors as well as others, such as John of Paris, than has been done heretofore would need to take place. Such a comprehensive analysis is beyond the scope of this present work, but for present purposes I can lay out what we do know, even if what follows remains preliminary. As mentioned 74

Jürgen Miethke, De potestate papae. Die päpstliche Amtskompetenz im Widerstreit der politischen Theorie vom Thomas von Aquin bis Wilhelm von Ockham, Sur.nr 15 (Tübingen, 2000), 117. 75 Walther, “Aegidius Romanus und Jakob von Viterbo,”168. 76 Rivière, Le Probléme de l’Église et de l’État au Temps de Philippe le Bel.

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above, the standard, seemingly universally accepted position is that James’ De regimine Christiano was dependent on Giles’ De ecclesiastica potestate. Karl Ubl has pointed not simply to parallels, but evidence of direct borrowing from, as he assumes, De ecclesiastica potestate by James,77 and Dyson has pointed to several examples where it seems clear that James was borrowing from Giles, such as his use of the term frenifactiva, or bridle-​making.78 Such evidence, though, is for both Dyson and Ubl, and indeed for scholars since Rivière, based on the assumption that Giles had composed De ecclesiastica potestate before James had composed his De regimine Christiano, so they are simply providing evidence to prove an a priori assumption. Each of these cases, and all such parallels, or even borrowings, could in fact have been the other way around, namely, Giles having borrowed from James, having had a copy of James De regimine Christiano on his desk as he was composing his De ecclesiastica potestate. For Dyson, James had indeed seemingly been oblivious to political controversy and remained completely out of the fray of the polemics until the publication of Ausculta fili at the earliest. Yet as demonstrated above, James own works as well as his context in Paris, contradicts Dyson’s assumption. Had James indeed written De regimine Christiano as the culmination of his involvement in political controversy from as early as 1293 upon assuming the position of magister regens, after having been in debate with Godfrey of Fontaine and certainly aware of the “imperial” arguments that led to John of Paris’ De regia et papali, and most likely most familiar indeed with Giles’ De renuntiatione pape in the aftermath of Clericis laicos and finally feeling the need to put his own arguments, which had been formed since at least his first Quodlibet, together in a single, coherent and thorough treatise and had done so while he was still a professor in the faculty of theology at Paris, namely, before he left for Naples, the textual “evidence” that has so far been brought forward to demonstrate James’ dependency on Giles would serve equally well as evidence of Giles’ dependency on James. What such parallels and borrowings do demonstrate, at least to a significant degree, is that there was a textual relationship between the two works so that they were not written in isolated independence and simply published at more or less the same time. The question is, therefore, which came first? While this might indeed be a “chicken and the egg” type of question, the evidence presented above strongly suggests that indeed James’ De regimine Christiano was written in Paris, most likely in 1298 or 1299.

77 Ubl, “Die Genese der Bulle Unam Sanctam,” 139, n. 42. 78 Dyson, James of Viterbo, xxi.

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There is, though, one potential reference in James’ De regimine Christiano that might be the “smoking gun” for James’ dependence on Giles. Dyson concluded the introduction to his edition and translation of James’ work with the following: In terms of its scope and force and immediate impact, the treatise [scil. De regimine Christiano] is likely to be found superficially less imposing than Aegidius Romanus’ De ecclesiastica potestate. At a less superficial level, however, De regimine Christiano is in some respects more telling and more skillful in its execution than its more celebrated companion. James habitually prefers what he calls “a middle way … that seems more reasonable.” By this more reasonable and inoffensive way, he contrives, with gentle logical steps, to formulate a theory of papal monarchy that is every bit as imposing and ambitious as that of Aegidius, while being systematically less arrant and proactive. James of Viterbo’s work has the curious and beguiling property of arriving at extreme conclusions by comparatively moderate means.79 While I have found no evidence whatsoever of James’ “habitual” middle way, the term via media does appear in one place, which Dyson had referenced, and the only place Dyson had referenced, in De regimine Christiano, namely, in part 2, ­chapter 7. Here James was setting forth two positions on the relationship between temporal and spiritual power and how they both relate to God: For some say that the temporal power is from God alone and that, according to its institution, it does not in any way depend upon the spiritual power. Others, however, say that temporal power, if it is to be legitimate and just, is either united with spiritual power in the same person or instituted by the spiritual power. But between these two opinions a middle way (via media) may be taken that seems more reasonable: that is, it may be said that the institution of temporal power has its being in a material and incomplete sense from the natural inclination of men and, for this reason, from God, inasmuch as the work of nature is the work of God; but that as perfected and formed it has being from the spiritual power, which is derived from God in a special manner. For grace does not abolish nature, but perfects and forms it; and, similarly, that which is of grace does not abolish that which is of nature, but forms and perfects it. Hence, 79

Ibid., xxxiv.

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because spiritual power has to do with grace and temporal power with nature, the spiritual therefore does not exclude the temporal but forms and perfects it.80 Antoine Cote pointed to John of Paris as having represented the first position James mentioned, and then claimed that Giles of Rome represented the second: Some, e. g., the proponents of the so-​called “dualist” position such as John Quidort of Paris, hold that the temporal power derives directly from God and thus in no way needs to be instituted by the spiritual, while others, such as Giles of Rome in De ecclesiastica potestate, contend that the temporal derives wholly from the spiritual and is devoid of any legitimacy whatsoever “unless it is united with spiritual power in the same person or instituted by the spiritual power” (De regimine christiano: 211).81 If, therefore, James’ “others” was a reference to Giles, it would indicate that James had indeed drawn on De ecclesiastica potestate and thus De regimine could only have been composed after the work of Giles. Yet there is no explicit indication in James’ text as to whom he was indeed referring and there is no direct textual borrowing. The position that legitimate temporal power has to be joined to and instituted by spiritual power can be found in previous scholars’ work from Gregory vii to John of Salisbury, and was indeed too the position James had advocated in his Quodlibet 1, q. 17. While it might indicate that James had changed his position somewhat from his early Quodlibet, or at least had tempered it in his attempt to pursue a “middle way,” it can also simply be read as a scholastic presentation that then James resolved by asserting his own position which is not much different at all in 1293 than it was in 1302, or 1299. As Cote affirmed: Still, James' very choice of analogies to illustrate the relationship between the spiritual and temporal realms showed that his solution lay much closer to the theocratic position espoused by Giles of Rome than his efforts to find a “middle way” would have us believe. Thus, comparing the spiritual power's relation to the temporal in terms of the relation of light to color, he explains that although “color has something of the 80 Jac.Vit., De reg. 2,7 (ed. Dyson, 210; trans., 211). 81 From Cote’s article in Stanford Encyclopedia: https://​plato.stanf​ord.edu/​entr​ies/​james-​ vite​rbo/​.

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nature of light, (…) it has such a feeble light that, unless there is present a more excellent light by which it may be formed, not in its own nature but in its power, it cannot move the vision” (De regimine christiano: 211). In other words, James is telling us that although temporal power does originate in man's natural inclinations, it is ineffectual qua power unless it is informed by the spiritual.82 In short, there is no conclusive evidence, even James’ supposed “middle way,” to claim that James’ De regimine Christiano was necessarily dependent on Giles’ De ecclesiastica potestate, and there is significant evidence, even if not conclusive, that James had written his De regimine Christiano as magister regens in Paris, and therefore the work should be dated to 1298/​99. This would entail indeed a revision of the scholarship to date on the development of papal hierocratic theory, giving the priority to James, whose work Giles had used for his own treatment of ecclesiastical power. Parallels between James and Giles then indicated Giles’ dependence on James, or, James’ knowledge of Giles’ De renuntiatione, for which there are significant indications. For example, in De renuntiatione, Giles had established six types of communities, from the household to the kingdom,83 and in De regimine Christiano, James had established three hierarchically ordered political communities, the household, the city, and the kingdom,84 both treatments of which being based on Aristotle’s Politics. Giles had made as a basis for his argument in De renuntiatione the distinction between the power of ordination (potestas ordinis) and the power of jurisdiction (potestas jurisdictionis),85 which we then find as well in James’ De regimine Christiano,86 and which would be a foundational distinction for Augustinus of Ancona’s treatment in his Summa de potestate ecclesiastica.87 We do not, however, find the distinction, at least explicitly, in Giles’s De potestate ecclesiastica. If James was borrowing from Giles, he was borrowing from De renuntiatione, not from De potestate ecclesiastica. Based therefore on the available evidence and pending a comprehensive study, which might or not might shed additional light on the matter, we can assert that James had composed his De regimine Christiano while magister regens at Paris in 1298/​99, which then

82

From Cote’s article in Stanford Encyclopedia: https://​plato.stanf​ord.edu/​entr​ies/​james-​ vite​rbo/​. 83 Aeg.Rom., renun. 4 (ed. Eastman, 228–​229). 84 Jac.Vit.,De reg. 1,1 (ed. Dyson, 5–​9; trans. 6–​10). 85 Aeg.Rom., renun. 5 (ed. Eastman, 230–​233). 86 Jac.Vit., De reg. 2,4 (ed. Dyson, 153–​155; trans.154–​156). 87 See below.

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Giles used for his own De ecclesiastica potestate in 1302. The revised chronology then would be as follows: 1278/​80: Giles’ De regimine principum 1290–​1296: Godfrey’s Quodlibet 1293–​96: James Quodlibeta 1-​4 1296: Boniface viii’s Clericis laicos 1297: Giles’ De renuntiatione papae 1298/​1299: James’ De regimine Christiano February 1302: Boniface viii’s Ausculta fili 1302: Giles’ De ecclesiastica potestate and John of Paris’ De regia et papali November 1302: Boniface viii’s Unam sanctam James’ De regimine Christiano was a scholastic work of a university master treating a theme of contemporary significance given the political controversies of the 1290s. It was not, as such, a work of papal polemics. Giles’ De ecclesiastica potestate, however, was, for which Giles drew on the work of his younger confrère. Both authors, though, the professor James and the archbishop Giles, contributed to the emerging political Augustinianism and thereby to the emerging Augustinian ideology in the context of bitter political controversy. And Boniface viii was pleased. As Ubl has argued, Boniface used both the work of James and Giles for his Unam sanctam, taking James’ De regimine Christiano as the frame of his Bull, both for the first part and the conclusion, while then using Giles’ De ecclesiastica potestate for his treatment of the relationship between papal power and temporal rulers and the centrality of the primacy of jurisdiction.88 Just as Giles and James had sided with Boniface in the increasing conflict with Philip iv, so likewise had Boniface sided with the Augustinians for his assertion of papal supremacy.89 This close relationship between the papacy and the Augustinian Hermits became then the context in which the Augustinians created their own unique identity based on an emerging Augustinian ideology.

88

89

“Bonifaz nahm also beide Abhandlungen zur Kenntnis. Der erste Teil sowie der Schlussatz von Unam sanctam beziehen sich auf Jakobs De regimine christiano, während die Ausführungen zum Gewaltenverhältnis und zum Jurisdiktionsprimat von Aegidius abgeschrieben sind.” Ubl, “Die Genese der Bulle Unam Sanctam,” 139. See Saak, High Way to Heaven, 24–​28, 157–​159.

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James’ Political Augustinianism

While James was a member of the oesa and was his Order’s regent master at Paris, his reception and appropriation of Augustine, as seen above, did not at first glance seem to indicate any special affinity with Augustine, who had by 1300 still not been claimed as the Order’s founding father. Rather, his work appears to evidence his adherence to Aristotle over that to Augustine. Based on the quantitative analysis as presented above, that is certainly a valid conclusion. However, the qualitative evidence needs to be taken into account as well. James began his work with a citation to Augustine for arguing that there are three basic types of community, the household, the city, and the kingdom.90 While for such a point of departure James certainly could have cited Aristotle, he chose to cite Augustine. Indeed, as stated above, of the forty-​three citations of Augustine in De regimine Christiano, eighteen are found in the first chapter and in the last. James framed his work with Augustine. Aristotle is only cited explicitly twice. If we seek to define “political Augustinianism” historically, rather than philosophically, and in doing so take into account the qualitative as well as the quantitative appeal to Augustine, James appears as Augustinian indeed. As Walther described it, James, when it comes down to it, read Aristotle through Augustinian eyes in so far as the Church is indeed a kingdom, and thus the natural inclination of humans for political association, the point of departure for Aristotle, is subsumed in the kingdom of the Church as the community destined for eternal blessedness and salvation.91 Moreover, the kingdom is more perfect than the city, and the city is more perfect than the household, which James proves by citing Augustine’s De civitate dei.92 James cites De civitate dei again as evidence of his point that the Church as a kingdom is so “by reason of an end and first principle, unity; but it is divided by a difference of condition. This kingdom contains not only men of the elect, but also all the holy angels. For one city and one kingdom of God is made up of saints, angels and men, as Augustine says at De civitate dei 10.”93 James continues to present Augustine’s exposition of the two cities and relate the city of God to the kingdom of the Church, even while noting the distinctions, namely, that in this life, the kingdom of God is thoroughly mixed with the kingdom of the devil, yet the Church is identified with the former, even if some members thereof are citizens of the latter. While not explicitly citing Augustine, 90 Jac.Vit., De reg. 1,1 (ed. Dyson, 6–​7). 91 Walther, “Aegidius Romanus und Jakob von Viterbo,” 162. 92 Jac.Vit., De reg. 1,1 (Dyson, p. 12). 93 Jac.Vit., De reg. 1,1 (Dyson, p. 18; trans., 19).

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James followed Augustine very closely in associating the two cities with Abel and Cain, and then with Jerusalem and Babylon. He closed his opening chapter by summarizing: “Many more things might be said of these two cities and their differences, but what we have now said may be enough to show what we intended at the beginning, namely, that the Church is called a kingdom and that she is the kingdom of God and of Christ.”94 James returns to Augustine at the end of his work, where he replies to various objections to his positions. One of the central objections James entertains is that the pope’s temporal power is from the emperor, going back to Constantine, and that the pope does not therefore have legitimate jurisdiction over the temporal realm.95 Here James brings in Augustine to assert that there is no true justice where Christ is not the ruler, for kingdoms, James asserted, “do not exist through fate, not by chance, not from false gods, but are ordained by the providence of the one true God, in Whose hand are the laws of all powers and all kingdom.”96 In short, James returned to a position he had first established in his first Quodlibet, question seventeen, and he does so based on the authority of Augustine. James’ reception of Augustine, and particularly of De civitate dei, was a political appropriation of Augustine indeed. In following his Order’s platform as established by Giles, James provided the overarching construct of papal monarchy based on Augustine’s exposition of the two cities, a general position Giles then would take as a point of departure, and on which he would draw, for his more polemical defense of papal, ecclesiastical power as the conflict between Boniface and Philip iv went beyond issues of taxation and the legitimacy of papal abdication. Boniface recognized as much, as he used the works of both Augustinians as the basis for his own assertion of papal primacy in his Unam sanctam. James and Giles had provided their Order with a political Augustinianism indeed, one that would become fused with a newly recognized and created religious identity, forming the Augustinians’ emerging Augustinian ideology. A step further in that direction, going beyond both James and Giles, was taken by their younger confrère, Augustinus of Ancona, who was working in Naples, as had James, under the papal vicar in Italy, King Robert of Anjou. It was not theoretical, hypothetical, ivory-​tower speculation that led to the emergence of the Augustinian ideology, or of their political Augustinianism: it was the reality of the political controversies at the time and the place of the oesa therein. Augustinus of Ancona would bring the Order’s political Augustinianism to a new level. 94 Jac.Vit., De reg. 1,1 (Dyson, 20; trans. 21). 95 Jac.Vit., De reg. 2,10 (Dyson, 312f). 96 Jac.Vit., De reg. 2,10 (Dyson, 314; trans. 315).

­c hapter 5

Augustinus of Ancona Michael Wilks claimed that Augustinus of Ancona “alone amongst the publicists of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries gives a really complete and adequate account of the maturer stages of papal-​hierocratic doctrine.”1 Based on Augustinus’ Summa de potestate ecclesiastica, completed in 1326 and dedicated to Pope John xxii, Wilks argued that “the ‘Babylonian captivity’, often regarded as being in fact the nadir of the medieval papacy, was in theory its crowning triumph.”2 Yet theory did not always correspond to reality, and Wilks gives the impression that hierocratic theory was divorced from political reality, whereby theory was developed independently from the historical context. Yet as seen above in the cases of James and Giles, that certainly was not the case. Augustinus too, much as his nemesis, Marsilius of Padua, was no “arm chair” theorist, divorced from the realities of fourteenth-​century realpolitik. Augustinus had dedicated his Summa to Pope John xxii and with John spending two-​thirds of his income on armies to fight Louis of Bavaria,3 and with Augustinus providing the justification for John doing so, Augustinus’ Summa was no product of an ivory tower. Drawing from both Giles and James, Augustinus composed the first comprehensive ecclesiology in the West, thereby establishing the late medieval Augustinian ideology. 1

Brother Augustinus

There is not much we know, or most likely can know, about Augustinus de Ancona.4 He read the Sentences at Paris in 1304–​6, and promoted to the magisterium in theology between the years 1313 and 1315. He then taught in Venice, and from 1321, in Naples. In 1322 he was appointed the court chaplain of Robert d’Anjou of Naples. Though Augustinus and his Summa are often mentioned as significant to late medieval political theory, when it comes to studies actually

1 Wilks, The Problem of Sovereignty in the Later Middle Ages, 2. 2 Ibid., 407. 3 Norman Housely, The Avignon Papacy and the Crusades, 1305–​1378 (Oxford 1986), 250–​251. 4 See Saak, “Augustinus of Ancona,” in oghra 2:601–​603. Augustinus is also known as Augustinus Triumphus.

© Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, 2022 | DOI:10.1163/9789004504707_009

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devoted to Augustinus and his work, Van Gerven’s observations from 1947 are still valid: … aside from a few more or less extensive articles, one finds that there has, as yet, never been a serious, comprehensive study of Triumphus’s ecclesiastico-​political doctrine … indeed, authors who have dealt with Triumphus’s work have done so without sufficiently taking into account the historical context in which his work appeared.5 This contrasts markedly with the importance given Augustinus from his own time through the late sixteenth century. The reason for this lacuna may be that, on the one hand, aside from Van Gerven himself, the overwhelming majority of scholars treating late medieval political theory have considered Augustinus to have been a radical hierocrat, and thus not as exciting or as provocative as Marsilius of Padua; whereas on the other, scholars investigating the Augustinian tradition in the later Middle Ages have focused primarily on theological developments leading one way or another to Luther. Both of these scholarly pursuits have been guided, if not determined, by modern concerns, namely, looking for precursors to “modern” political theory or looking for precursors to “modern” theology. Augustinus did not have much of a role in either trajectory. To return Augustinus to his historical importance, this scholarly bifurcation must be overcome by reuniting what never should have been separated in recognizing the influence of late medieval political Augustinianism. While Augustinus has been relatively overlooked in contemporary scholarship, recent work highlights his importance for the religio-​political conflict between Pope John xxii and Louis of Bavaria, and emphasizes his role in the late medieval renaissance of Augustine scholarship.6 Consequently, to read Augustinus’s Summa historically, we must do so in conjunction with Marsilius of Padua’s Defensor Pacis.7 What Augustinus was to John xxii, Marsilius was 5 “Doch zoo men een diepere peiling wil doen naar wat er over ‘t werk van Triumphus verschenen is, zal men bevinden dat behalve eenige min of meer uitgebreide artikelen, er tot nog toe geen ernstige omvattende studie over de kerkelijk-​politieke leer van Triumphus voorhanden is … Inderdaad, de auteurs die eenigszins uitgebreid de leer van Triumphus bestudeerd hebben, hebben o.i. niet genoeg rekening gehouden met het historisch kader waarin Triumphus’ werk verscheen.” Van Gerven, De wereldlijke macht van den Paus, xv. 6 Saak, High Way to Heaven, 44–​156; idem, “The Episcopacy of Christ: Augustinus of Ancona, oesa (d. 1328) and Political Augustinianism in the Later Middle Ages,” Questio 6 (2006): 259–​ 275; Mikolaj Olszeweski, “Introduction to the Edition of the Prologue to the Commentary on the Sentences by Augustinus Triumphus of Ancona,” Aug(L) 61 (2011): 75–​153. 7 For Marsilius, see Saak, Luther and the Reformation of the Later Middle Ages, 305–​341.

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to Louis. Augustinus composed his treatise while serving as court chaplain to Robert d’Anjou, King of Naples and papal vicar in Italy. Marsilius dedicated his work to Louis, proclaiming him as the “defender of the peace,” and shortly after its completion, Marsilius joined Louis’ court, and accompanied him on his campaign to Rome. The Defensor Pacis was completed in 1324; the Summa, in 1326. John was certainly aware of the Defensor Pacis, which was issued in the same year as Louis’s Sachsenhausen Appeal, and even if he had not read it himself, he did commission William of Cremona, the Prior General of the oesa, to write a refutation of six articles culled from the work. William’s reply became the basis of John’s condemnation of the Defensor Pacis in his bull, Licet iuxta doctrinam.8 Both William and Augustinus had first-​hand knowledge of Marsilius’ work.9 Yet I do not mean to imply that Augustinus wrote his Summa as a direct response to the Defensor Pacis. I would argue, however, that the Defensor Pacis provided Augustinus with the catalyst to finish his major work on ecclesiastical power and to send it to John. Augustinus had been intimately involved in matters of ecclesiastical political theory at least since his time as a master at Paris in 1313–​ 1315.10 In 1315, in the context of the papal vacancy that eventually resulted in the election of John, and the imperial vacancy, that resulted in the election of Louis, though one disputed between Louis and Frederick of Austria, Augustinus held a Quodlibet in Paris on the power of the papacy, the college of cardinals, and the laity. Here Augustinus had set forth the basic doctrine for distinguishing between the pope’s power of jurisdiction and power of order that he would greatly expand and elaborate upon in his Summa.11 It is most likely that Marsilius of Padua, who had been rector of the university in 1313, was still in Paris in 1315 and he may very well have been present at Augustinus’s Quodlibet. In his Defensor Pacis we find a rather vague reference that may indeed be referring to Augustinus’s Quodlibet. In the second Discourse, chapter sixteen, Marsilius wrote: The afore-​mentioned questions relating to the faith were not, then, settled by Peter through the plenitude of powers which is claimed for the Roman bishop by some idle dreamers, “masters in Israel,” who

8 Saak, High Way to Heaven, 60–​65. 9 Saak, High Way to Heaven, 744–​747; Saak, “Augustinus of Ancona,” oghra 2: 601–​603. 10 Scholz, Die Publizistik, 172–​189. 11 Augustinus’s Quodlibet exists in two treatises, his Tractatus brevis de duplici potestate prelatorum et laicorum and his De potestate collegii mortuo papa, edited in Scholz, Die Publizistik, 486–​508; see also Saak, High Way to Heaven, 128–​134.

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in unwritten dogmas have declared (what Peter did not dare) that the Roman bishop by himself alone can settle questions of faith; which is an open falsehood and clearly opposed to the Scripture.12 One does indeed find such an argument in Giles’ De ecclesiastica potestate, but that could scarcely have been what Marsilius considered “unwritten dogmas.”13 In his question De duplici potestate, Augustinus makes a very similar argument,14 and this Quodlibet, for Marsilius, could certainly still have been “unwritten.” The deeper one reads in the Defensor Pacis, the clearer it becomes that Marsilius was replying to an “Augustinian political front,” represented most of all by Giles, James of Viterbo, and Augustinus.15 And the more closely one reads Augustinus’s Summa, the more one sees that Augustinus always had in the back of his mind, and often in the forefront, the Defensor Pacis, even if he had begun compiling his Summa years before “push came to shove.” Behind, and in front of, both works was the imperial-​papal battle between Louis and John, for which Marsilius and Augustinus provided the ideological “lines in the sand.” Though Augustinus’ Summa has been seen as perhaps the most outstanding enunciation of papal hierocratic theory,16 in a standard handbook of medieval political thought, Augustinus is barely a name dropped,17 and in her overview, Janet Coleman not only ignores Augustinus, but the Augustinians as well, when she claims:

12

“Non ergo determinavit Petrus supradicta dubia circa fidem de plenitudine potestatis, quam quidam sompniantes quamvis magistri in Israel habere dicunt Romanum episcopum, qui pronunciaverunt in non scriptis dogmatibus, ipsum per se solum, quod non ausit Petrus, qua que circa fidem dubia sunt, determinare posse. Quod falsum apertum est et scripture dissonans palam.” Marsilius de Padua, Defensor Pacis, 2.16,5; ed. Richard Scholz, Fontes Iuris Germanici Antiqui in Usum scholarum ex Monumentis Gtermaniae Historicis (Hannover 1932/​3), 341–​342; trans. Alan Gewirth (New York 20012), 244. 13 Aeg.Rom., De eccl.pot. 1,1 (ed. Dyson, 4). 14 Augustinus de Ancona., Tractatus brevis de duplici potestate prelatorum et laicorum, ed. R. Scholz, Die Publizistik zur Zeit Philipps des Schönen und Bonifaz VIII, Kirchenrechtliche Abhandlungen 6/​8 (Stuttgart, 1903), 486–​501; hereafter cited as: Aug.Anc., De dupl. pot. 15 Saak, Luther and the Reformation of the Later Middle Ages, 305–​341. 16 See Walter Ullmann, Law and Politics in the Middle Ages. An Introduction to the Sources of Medieval Political Ideas (Ithaca 1975); Wilks, The Problem of Sovereignty, 2, 407. 17 J.H.Burns, ed., The Cambridge History of Medieval Political Thought, c. 350-​ c. 1430 (Cambridge, 1991), 356, 364, and 640.

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A good deal of what is recognized as later medieval political theory, to say nothing of the distinctive influence of developments in fourteenth-​century philosophy and theology on European political thinking well beyond the sixteenth century, was the consequence of the intellectual efforts of Franciscans and Dominicans.18 Yet the manuscript and printed traditions of Augustinus’s Summa stand as witness to the insufficiency of our understanding of late medieval political thought when his influence is ignored.19 His Summa de potestate ecclesiastica is extant in at least thirty-​nine manuscripts (fifteen of which are fragmentary), seven fifteenth-​century editions,20 and then four sixteenth-​century editions.21 Unfortunately, Augustinus’ Summa has never been edited, though the preface and Tabula of the questions and subquestions are available,22 and questions 6, 7, 22, 23, and 63 of Augustinus’s Summa have been translated.23 Augustinus was, however, far more than a political theorist, as testified by his biblical commentaries and philosophical treatises, which by and large have never been studied. His commentaries on the Gospels and on Paul’s Letter’s likewise are unedited and are extant only in manuscripts. Clearly there is much work to

18

Janet Coleman, A History of Political Thought. From the Middle Ages to the Renaissance (Oxford 20042), 79. 19 There are at least 47 extant manuscripts of the Summa, see P. B. Ministeri, “De Augustini de Ancona, oesa d. 1328) Vita et Operibus,” An.Aug. 22 (1951/​52): 7–​56, 148–​262; 209–​ 211; cf. Adolar Zumkeller, Manuskripte, nr. 141 (77–​78). The printings are Augsburg 1473, Cologne 1475, Rome 1479, s.l. ca. 1484, Venice 1487, and then four successive Roman editions between 1582–​1585. Questions 6,7, 22,23, and 63 of Augustinus’s Summa have been translated by A. S. McGrade in Arthur Stephen McGrade, John Kilcullen, and Matthew Kempshall, eds., The Cambridge Translations of Medieval Philosophical Texts. Vol. 2: Ethics and Political Philosophy (Cambridge 2001), 418–​483. For Augustinus, see Ugo Mariani, Scrittori; E. Van Moé, Les Ermites de St. Augustin au début du XIVe siècle: Agostino Trionfo et ses théories politique, Extrait. Ecole nationale des chartes. Positions des thèses soutenues par les élèves de la promotion de 1928 pour obtenir le diplôme de’archiviste paléographe (Paris 1928), 102–​115; X.P.D. Duijnstee, ‘S pausen Primaat in de latere Middeleeuwen en de Aegidiaansche School, 3 vols. (vol. 1: Hilversum 1935, vols. 2–​3, Amsterdam 1936–​1939); Van Gervan, De wereldlijke macht van den paus, Wilks, The Problem of Sovereignty; and Jürgen Miethke, De potestate Papae, 170–​177; for a critique of Miethke’s interpretation of Augustinus, especially regarding Augustinus’s knowledge of Marsilius of Padua’s Defensor Pacis, see Saak, High Way to Heaven, 743–​748, and for a critique of Wilks, see ibid., 43–​138 and passim. 20 Augsburg, 1473; Cologne, 1475; Lyon, 1479; Rome, 1479; s.l. 1484; Venice 1487; and Lyons, 1489. 21 Rome, 1582, 1583, 1584, and 1585. 22 Saak, High Way to Heaven, 749–​773. 23 McGrade, The Cambridge Translations, 418–​483.

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be done on Augustinus. Only with critical editions, and new scholarly studies, will we be able to analyze Augustinus’ seminal role in late medieval political thought, and the role of the reception and appropriation of Augustine therein. 2

Augustinus’ Use of Augustine

Augustinus became involved with religio-​political controversy even before he ascended to the magisterium. In 1308 he composed his De facto Templariorum, a work defending the papal position against Philip iv of France regarding Philip’s suppression of the Knights Templars. In this work, Augustinus cited, in addition to scripture, the Glossa ordinaria, the Decretals, and Avicenna (once each, without reference), but Augustine does not appear. Augustine is first cited in Augustinus’ political writings in his quodlibetal questions of 1313–​15. Two treatises are extant from the original quodlibet: his Tractatus brevis de duplici potestate prelatorum et laicorum qualiter se habent, and Tractatus de potestate collegii mortuo papa.24 Taking these two works together, Augustinus cited authorities thirty-​seven times. Of these citations, seventeen are to scripture, seven to Canon Law, five to the Glossa ordinaria, four to Augustine, two to Aristotle, and then one each to Damascenus and Lombard. Of the four citations of Augustine, the only specific work named is De trinitate. These two treatises form the foundation for Augustinus’ mature political thought and while Augustine is present, Scripture, Canon Law, and the Glossa account for twenty-​nine of the thirty-​seven citations. Augustine was not Augustinus’ primary authority. That, however, would change. The influence of Augustine in Augustinus’ works notably increases in his Scripture commentaries, composed after his Quodlibet yet before his Summa de potestate ecclesiastica. In his Apocalypsis glossatus, for example, Augustinus cites authorities fifty-​nine times in the prologue and first lectio. Of these fifty-​nine, seventeen are to Augustine and ten to Scripture. This pattern continues throughout the work, and is paralleled by his citations in his lectures on Matthew. In his first fourteen lectures, covering the first two chapters of Matthew, Augustinus cited authorities 252 times. Leading the list was Augustine, with sixty-​six citations, followed by Chrysostomus with fifty, and Scripture with forty-​three. In treating the Lord’s Prayer, which was

24 Aug.Anc., de dupl. pot. (as in note 14 above); De potestate Collegii Mortuo Papa, ed. R. Scholz, Die Publizistik zur Zeit Philipps des Schönen und Bonifaz VIII. Kirchenrechtliche Abhandlungen 6/​8. (Stuttgart, 1903), 501–​508; hereafter cited as Aug.Anc. De pot. Coll.).

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later excerpted and published as a separate treatise,25 Augustinus essentially follow’s Augustine’s lead in the latter’s Sermo domini in monte and his letter Ad Probam, but also cited from Augustine’s sermons, letters, De trinitiate, the Enchirdion, the Tractatus in Iohannem, and then the anti-​Pelagian works, Contra Pelagianos, De baptismo parvulorum, De correptione et gratia, De natura et gratia, and De disciplina christiana. Though Augustinus does not explicitly attack the “modern Pelagians,” he does seem to be aware of a threat, since he strenuously argues against the Pelagian heretics who “are the enemies of Christ’s grace.”26 Between 1315 and 1326 therefore, Augustinus began to rely increasingly upon the works of Augustine, and it is possible that during this time he also began what would become the most ambitious work of Augustine scholarship of the later Middle Ages, the Milleloquium Sancti Augustini, completed by his confrere Bartholomew of Urbino.27 When we turn to his Summa, it is not only the quantitative role of Augustine in the work that stands out, but the qualitative as well. Augustinus was appropriating Augustine anew. Augustinus’ Summa de potestate ecclesiastica is a massive work. A comprehensive analysis of Augustinus’ knowledge and use of Augustine, as well as that of all his sources, would necessarily require a critical edition. Yet based on a sample of the 110 questions comprising the Summa, a preliminary indication of Augustinus’ knowledge and use of Augustine can be made. The sample consists of three sets of Questiones: questions one through five from part one of the Summa, which focus on the power of the pope per se and on his election; questions forty-​eight through fifty-​seven, which treat the pope’s power and authority to issue dispensations regarding the Ten Commandments, from part two of the Summa; and finally questions 101 through 106, from part three, which concern the state of perfection in the pope, the college of Cardinals, bishops, the religious in general, and the mendicants in specific. In these three sets of questions, Scripture was the overwhelming primary source for Augustinus, with 347 of the 976 citations of authorities. Augustine though is in second place with 191 citations. Of the 191 citations of Augustine, ninety-​eight give no reference to a specific work. The remaining ninety-​three citations, as cited by Augustinus, are as in Table 2 below. 25 26 27

Augustinus of Ancona, In orationem dominicam tractatus, Rome, 1587. “… pelagiani eretici sic erant gratie Christi inimici.” Aug.Anc. Lectura super Mattheum, lectio 45, London, British Library ms Burney 43, fol. 51vb; In orat. Domin. 1587, 42. See Hermann Josef Sieben, “Bartholomew of Urbino,” in oghra 2:626–​628.

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Augustinus of Ancona table 2

Augustinus’s Augustine citations

Source/​Authority De decem chordis Epistole De vera religione De libero arbitrio Augustinus et canon law De doctrina Christiana De trinitate Super scripturam sacram De civitate dei Confessiones De 83 quaestionibus Augustinus et Glossa De penitentia Enchiridion De baptismo parvulorum De ieiunio Quaestiones ad Simplicianum Super Iohannem Quaestiones evangeliorum In pluribus locis Contra epistolam fundamenti In consensu evangeliorum De sermone domini [in monte]

Frequency of citation 11 10 9 7 5 3 2

1

At times, Augustinus cited Augustine and then noted that the same passage was in Canon Law28 or the Glossa,29 though most likely he took the reference 28

29

E.g.: “Idem Augustinus ad Publicolam in quadam epistola et ponitur xxiii q. v. ubi dicitur …,” Augustinus de Ancona, Summa de potestate ecclesiastica q. 52, art. 3 (Cologne, 1475), fol. 198r (395); hereafter cited as Aug.Anc. Summa. For present purposes, I have used the digitalized facsimile edition available at the Universitäts-​und Landesbibliothek Darmstadt, at: Augustinus de Ancona: Summa de potestate ecclesiastica (Cologne: Arnold Ther Hoernen, 26 Jan. 1475) (tu-​darmstadt.de). I will give the page number of the digital edition in parenthesis after the foliation as here above. E.g.: “Unde dicit Augustinus et habetur in glossa …” Summa 1,2, (Cologne 1475), fol. 13v.

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from the intermediate source. To determine which citations Augustinus took from an intermediate source a thorough and exhaustive comparison would need to be done. Yet Augustinus does seem concerned to note when his cited passage is also present in the Glossa or canon law, since he does the same for other authorities, such as Ambrose, Cyprian, Gregory the Great, Hilary of Poitiers, and Jerome. The above chart illustrates Augustinus’ wide knowledge of Augustine’s works. From no other authority did Augustinus cite such a large variety of works. Yet notably absent are the anti-​Pelagian works, with the exception of De baptismo parvulorum; the anti-​Donatist works, aside from Contra epistolam Fundamenti; and the Genesis commentaries. It is Augustinus’ endeavour to prove that his positions on ecclesiastical power were the traditional positions of the church, espoused by and supported by traditional authorities. Thus Augustinus cites Canon Law 164 times; the Glossa ordinaria fifty-​nine times; Bernard of Clairvaux thirty-​eight times; Aristotle twenty-​nine times; Gregory the Great thirty-​two times; Jerome twenty-​ seven times; and Chrysostomus twenty-​three times. Yet Augustine remains, after Scripture, Augustinus’ major authority as the authoritative Church Father. From the above analysis it can be concluded that Augustinus had a wide knowledge of Augustine’s works, which was increasing and expanding during his teaching in Venice and then later at Naples. Though he at times cited Augustine via Canon Law or the Glossa ordinaria, and often simply cited the Church Father as secundum Augustinum, he seems to have had a direct knowledge of many of Augustine’s works. The question, though, is how did Augustinus put his Augustine knowledge into practice? To answer this question we turn to his Summa de potestate ecclesiastica itself, which was, as I asserted above, the first comprehensive treatment of ecclesiology in the West. To see how this is so, we must go back to the beginning, to the controversies leading to and stemming from Boniface viii’s Unam Sanctam. 3

Unam Sanctam and the Emergence of Ecclesiology

The words from the Nicene Creed, “One holy, catholic and apostolic church …,” provided the opening line for Pope Boniface viii’s Unam sanctam of 1302. This was the bull that was Boniface’s undoing: it has been seen as the most complete statement of papal supremacy in the Middle Ages.30 However, aside from the 30

“Its [i.e. Unam sanctam] dramatic context gave it pre-​eminence over all statements of papal power …” T.S.R. Boase, Boniface VIII (London, 1933), 317; “Unam sanctam was a magnificent swan song of the papal-​hierocratic system …” Walter Ullman, The Growth of Papal

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last sentence, in which Boniface asserted that every human must by necessity be subject to the pope for salvation, a claim also expressed by Gregory vii over two hundred years previous,31 Unam sanctam repeats traditional doctrines of the Church.32 Nevertheless, together with the events and developments leading up to Boniface’s great pronouncement, Unam sanctam served as a catalyst for the earliest period that can be labeled as the emergence of ecclesiology, a period extending from Boniface through to the Council of Trent. Whereas previously treatises focused on the relationship between papal and imperial power were well known (De potestate pape),33 and whereas the papal monarchy had already been established by popes, canonists, and theologians from Bernard of Clairvaux to Innocent iii,34 it is only in the circle around Boniface that we begin to find treatises dedicated to ecclesiastical power as such (De ecclesiastica potestate), the first of which were that by the Augustinian Hermits James of Viterbo and Giles of Rome. When we find the shift from discussions of papal power to that of the power of the church, ecclesiology has emerged as an explicit theological subject, and one that was in practice of highly explosive political impact.

Government in the Middle Ages. A Study in the Ideological Relation of Clerical to Lay Power (London, 1955; 3rd edition 1970), 456; “Only Unam sanctam, the product of a later and more desperate crisis, equals it [i.e. Innocent iii’s Eger cui lenia] in the range of its claims.” Morris, The Papal Monarchy, 568; “Unam sanctam was the culmination of an ideology that had been given its first recension by Hugh of St. Victor …” J. A. Watt, “Spiritual and Temporal Powers,” in J.H. Burns, ed., The Cambridge History of Medieval Political Thought, c. 350-​c. 1450 (Cambridge, 1988), 367–​423; 401. 31 “Porro subesse Romano Pontifici omni humanae creaturae declaramus, dicimus, difinimus omnino esse de necessitate salutis.” Boniface viii, Unam sanctam, Heinrich Denzinger, Enchiridion symbolorum definitionum et declarationum de rebus fidei et morum, 38th edition, corrected expanded, and translated into German by Peter Hünermann (Freiburg in Breisgau, Basel, Rome, Vienne, 1999), 387, 875; cf.: Dictatus pape; Innocent iii. 32 “As has repeatedly been pointed out, it [i.e. Unam sanctam] contains little new. It is a careful statement of the claims of the papacy to final sovereignty, and bases the claim on the divine origin of that power … it had often been stated before and the bull’s greatest novelty is its absence of involved proof.” Boase, Boniface viii, 318; “Much debate in the scholarly literature has been about the degree to which anything that was stated in Unam sanctam was new.” Coleman, A History of Political Thought, 118. 33 See Miethke, De Potestate Papae. 34 Ulmann, The Growth of Papal Government,413–​446; Brian Tierney, Foundations of the Conciliar Theory. The Contribution of the Medieval Canonists from Gratian to the Great Schism (Cambridge, 1955), 87–​105; John A. Watt, The Theory of Papal Monarchy in the Thirteenth Century. The Contribution of the Canonists (New York, 1965); Kenneth Pennington, Pope and Bishops. The Papal Monarchy in the Twelfth and Thirteenth Centuries (Philadelphia, 1984); Morris, The Papal Monarchy.

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This is not to imply that no one before James or Giles had a concept of the Church,35 nor that James or Giles consciously sat down to write ecclesiology. As a term, “ecclesiology” dates to the the late 1830s and one of the earliest definitions, that of the Cambridge Camden Society, which also claimed to having coined the term, referred to church architecture.36 We certainly find metaphors used to define and/​or describe the church from apostolic and patristic times, such as the body of Christ and the ark of Noah, but these were used primarily to describe the original meaning of ecclesia, the Latinized version of the Greek ekklesion, as “community,” “congregation,” “group,” or “society.” The Christian ecclesia had to demarcate itself from the Jewish synagogue. With the rise of the institution of bishops, ecclesia began to refer to the community of faithful (communio fidelium) led by a bishop, which soon gave rise to arguments for Petrine primacy and the relationship between the bishops and the secular rulers, especially after the Christianization of the Roman Empire and especially with regard to the relationship between the Christian Emperor and the Bishop of Rome.37 The church had become an institution and though the hierarchical authority structures within that institution, together with Christology and the defining of orthodoxy, were heatedly debated, the nature of the Church itself was not. Christ had founded his church, but what that was that had been founded was not problematized: a community, a faith, an institution, a hierarchy? There was by no means an agreed upon conception of what the church was or of what it was comprised as the Donatist controversy makes overly clear. Yet aside from assertions of the church’s unity, from Tertullian to Augustine, no theoretical theological answer was given to the question of the nature of the church as such.38 Such answers were a millennium in coming, when the political conflicts within Christendom forced the issue. Once the question of the nature of the church itself was placed, various answers kept coming to the fore, resulting in increased conflict, and leading eventually to the splintering of the church’s unity for good in the Reformation. Once the classical Protestant statements were codified in the Augsburg Confession and Calvin’s Institutes,

35 36 37

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See for example, Saak, “Ecclesiology,” in oghra 2: 912–​917. Anonymous, “Ecclesiology,” British Critic xxi (1837): 220; James F. White, The Cambridge Movement. The Ecclesiologist and the Gothic Revival (Cambridge, 1962), 48–​49. Henry Chadwick, The Church in Ancient Society. From Galilee to Gregory the Great, Oxford History of the Christian Church (Oxford, 2001); Noble, Thomas F.X., “The Christian Church as an Institution,” in The Cambridge History of Christianity, vol. 3: Early Medieval Christianities, c. 600-​c. 1100, ed. Thomas F.X. Noble and Julia M.H. Smith (Cambridge 2008), 249–​274. Saak, “Ecclesiology” in oghra 2:912–​917.

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and once the Catholic response was formulated in the Council of Trent,39 we no longer have competing ecclesiologies, but contradictory and embattled ones, issuing in a new chapter in the history of Christianity, and in the history of the West. It is perhaps fitting that we find Augustinus of Ancona at both the beginning and the end of this formative period in the history of ecclesiology: Augustinus began his literary career writing on behalf of Boniface viii, and his Summa de potestate ecclesiastica was printed in four successive editions in Rome in 1582, 1583, 1584, and 1585. Augustinus himself, however, did not initiate the new ecclesiological discussions. As seen above, these had been begun before him by his older confreres, James of Viterbo and Giles of Rome in writing for Boniface, who used Giles’ De ecclesiastica potestate, at times word for word, for his Unam sanctam.40 Thus to place Augustinus’ ecclesiology in its proper historical light, we first need to turn to the beginnings, and the emergence of ecclesiology, defined as the theological and political understanding, treatment, and articulation of the nature of the Church. When Boniface sat down to compose his answer to all the conflicts facing the church, he began quite traditionally: “We are compelled to hold and to believe by the urging of faith the one holy catholic and apostolic church, and this we firmly believe and simply confess, outside of which there is neither salvation nor the remission of sins.”41 The phrase extra ecclesiam nec salus est nec remissio peccatorum can be traced back to Cyprian and Augustine, the former of whom is often credited with having formulated the doctrine of “no salvation outside the church,”42 but the explicit phrase is more closely found in the works of the latter. Cyprian wrote: Whoever is separated from the Church, is joined to an adulterer, separated from the promises of the Church: nor does one who leaves the Church obtain to the rewards of Christ. He is an alien, profane, an enemy … who does not hold to this unity, does not hold to the Law of God, nor to the faith of the Father and the Son, and does not hold to life and salvation.43 39 Ibid. 40 Rivière, Le Problème de l’Église et de l’État au Temps de Philippe le Bel, 394–​404. 41 “Unam sanctam Ecclesiam catholicam et ipsam apostolicam urgente fide credere cogimur et tenere, nosque hanc firmiter credimus et simpliciter confitemur, extra quam nec salus est nec remissio peccatorum.” Boniface viii, Unam sanctam; Denzinger, Enchiridion, 385, 870. 42 Bonaventure Kloppenburg, ofm, The Ecclesiology of Vatican II (Chicago, 1974), 75. 43 “Quisquis ab Ecclesia segregatus, adulterae jungitur, a promissis Ecclesiae separatur: nec perveniet ad Christi praemia, qui relinquit Ecclesiam Christi. Alienus est, profanus est, hostis est. … Hanc unitatem qui non tenet, Dei legem non tenet, non tenet Patris et Filii

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Here we find the idea of no salvation outside the church, but the wording of Boniface’s bull is closer to the phrasing of Augustine, who wrote in Sermon 71: “Sins are not forgiven outside the Church. And thus sins, because they are not forgiven outside the Church, ought to be forgiven in that spirit by which the Church is gathered together in unity.”44 He later in the same sermon affirmed that “outside the Church there is no remission of sins,”45 which is very close to Boniface’s wording. In his sermon to the people of the Church in Cessaria, Augustine further clarified that outside the Church there is no salvation; there are honors outside the church, and even the preaching of the Gospel, and everything else, but not salvation.46 This was repeated at the Fourth Lateran Council in 1215 in its assertion of the catholic faith: “There is but one universal Church of the faithful, outside of which no one at all is saved.”47 In his opening assertion, therefore, Boniface cannot be seen as putting forth any novelty. Boniface continued by defining the church as a ‘mystical body’ (unum corpus mysticum), whose head is Christ, before citing Ephesians 4:5 to assert that in the church there is “one Lord, one faith and one baptism.”48 Here we are coming upon a relatively new use of the term corpus mysticum, though one that predated Boniface by forty years at least. As Ernst Kantorowicz argued, in the wake of the definition of transubstantiation at Lateran iv and the establishment of the feast of corpus Christi in 1264, a shift took place whereby the eucharist, which previously had been termed the corpus Christi mysticum, fidem, vitam non tenet et salutem.” Cyprian, De unitate ecclesiae 6; pl 4, col. 503A-​504A. [n.b.: Denzinger lists Cyprian’s letter in pl 3, col. 1169A as stating: “Salus extra Ecclesiam non est” also giving the reference to csel 3/​i i, 795]. 44 “Peccata non remittuntur extra Ecclesiam. Sic et peccata, quia praeter Ecclesiam non dimittuntur, in eo Spiritu dimitti oportebat, quo in unum Ecclesia congregatur.” Aug., s. 71,17,28 (pl 38, col. 460). 45 “Remissio peccatorum non extra ecclesiam.” Aug., s. 71,20,33 (pl 38, col. 463). 46 “Dominus Deus noster qui voluit ut veniremus ad vos, qui jussit ut eum quaereremus, qui fecit ut eum interim facie tenus inveniremus, adjutos orationibus vestris faciet nos invenire cor ejus, laetari de concordia ejus, gratias agere Deo de salute ejus, quam non potest habere nisi in Ecclesia catholica. Extra Ecclesiam catholicam totum potest praeter salutem. Potest habere honorem, potest habere Sacramentum, potest cantare Alleluia, potest respondere Amen, potest Evangelium tenere, potest in nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus sancti fidem et habere et praedicare: sed nusquam nisi in Ecclesia catholica salutem poterit invenire.” Aug., Sermo ad Caesariensis ecclesiae plebem Emerito praesente habitus 6 (pl 43, col. 695). 47 “Una vero est fidelium universalis Ecclesia, extra quam nullus omnino salvatur.” Denzinger, Enchiridion, 358, 802. 48 “… quae unum corpus mysticum repraesentat, cuius corporis caput Christus, Christi vero Deus. In qua ‘unus Dominus, una fides et unum baptisma.’ ” Boniface viii, Unam sanctam, Denzinger, Enchiridion, 385,870.

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became the corpus Christi verum, and thus the Church became the corpus mysticum.49 This shift was radically significant for it entailed the definition of the Church changing from the communio fidelium to primarily being a juridical institution. As such, one of the major questions was the relationship between the corporation’s head and members, a question that was dealt with by theologians and canon lawyers. The canonists had a major role to play in the newly emerging concept of the Church: “During the thirteenth century,” Brian Tierney explained, the description of the Church as a corpus mysticum did come to acquire a juristic connotation in the works of the canonists, but it was always through an insistence on the subordination of all the members to a single head, not through any emphasis on the corporate solidarity of the member churches. Since Christ was head of the Mystical Body the canonists found it natural to refer to his vicar as head of the Church on earth, for it was precisely the function of the vicar to fill the place of Christ in relation to the Church militant. When, therefore, the canonists referred to the Pope as head they seemed only to be giving expression to a simple and inevitable corollary of the ancient doctrine of the Church as the Body of Christ; yet inevitably, from the very nature of the problems they dealt with, they were led to import their own legal ideas into the concept of headship. When Stephanus [Tornacensis (1128–​1203)] referred to the Church constituted ex multis fidelium personis Christi corpus, his thoughts were full of the symbolism of the Eucharist; when Alanus, half a century later, wrote Est enim corpus unum ecclesia, ergo unum solum caput habere debet, he had in mind the proper subordination of Emperor to Pope. When a theologian wrote of the Mystical Body and the headship of Christ, the problems that suggested themselves were ones of sacramental and Christological theology; but when a canonist encountered a reference to the Pope as head of the Church his natural inclination was to embark on an analysis of the juristic relationship between this head and the members who together with him form unum corpus.50 As an expert canonist himself, Boniface would have been aware of the juridical implications of the term corpus mysticum, and even if he was not the first to assert such, by doing so in Unam sanctam he contributed to the development 49

Ernst Kantorowicz, The Kings’s Two Bodies. A Study in Medieval Political Theology (Princeton, 1957), 194–​202. 50 Tierney, Foundations of the Conciliar Theory, 138–​139.

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of the understanding of the Church as a corporate, juridical institution, led by its head as the vicar of Christ. He was not as such introducing a novelty or even being all that innovative, but he was pushing a legal—​and political—​position that had significant implications for the conception of the Church and its political role in society, even as he asserted Christ as the head of the Church, and God the Father as the head of Christ. Boniface continued with offering Scriptural support for the exclusive unity of the Church by claiming that the one Church was prefigured by the ark of Noah,51 an image that can be traced back to Tertullian, Cyprian and Augustine,52 and one used, as seen above, by Giles of Rome. He then asserted the unity of the Church by appealing to Psalm 21:21, “Deliver, O God, my soul from the sword, my only one from the power of the dog,” one of the penitential Pslams seen as spoken prophetically by Christ, who was praying for his own soul and body.53 Boniface equated the unity of the Church with Christ’s body, based on the unity of the Church’s bridegroom, faith, sacraments, and love. This unity is the “seamless robe of Christ,” referring to John 19:23.54 “Therefore,” Boniface clarified, “there is one body, one head of this one and unique Church, not two heads, as a monster, namely Christ and Christ’s vicar Peter and the successor to Peter, with the Lord saying to Peter himself: ‘Feed my sheep.’[Jn. 21:17]”55 Here Boniface is being very cautious. Innocent iii was the pope to 51

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“Una nempe fuit diluvii tempore arca Noe, unam Ecclesiam praefigurans, quae in uno cubito consummata unum, Noe videlicet, gubernationem habuit et rectorem, extra quam omnia subsistentia super terram legimus fuisse deleta.” Boniface viii, Unam sanctam; Denzinger, Enchiridion, 385,870. “Nullum animal in idololatren figuratum est: quod in arca non fuit, in Ecclesia non sit.” Tertullian, De idololatria; pl 1, 696A-​b; “Si potuit evadere quisquam qui extra arcam Noe fuit, et qui extra Ecclesiam foris fuerit evadit.” Cyprianus, De unitate ecclesiae 6 (pl 4, 503A); “… probans et contestans unam arcam Noe typum fuisse unius Ecclesiae.” Cyprian, Epistola ad Magnum de Batizandis Novatianis et de iis qui in lecto gratiam consequuntur 3; pl 3, 1140A; “Habebat ibi corvum, habebat et columbam; utrumque hoc genus arca illa continebat: et si arca figurabat Ecclesiam, videtis utique quia necesse est ut in isto diluvio saeculi utrumque genus contineat Ecclesia, et corvum, et columbam.” Aug. Io. ev. tr. 6,2 (pl 35, 1426); “arca enim Ecclesia est,” Ibid.,6, 19 (pl 35, 1434). “Hanc autem veneramur et unicam, dicente Domino in Propheta: ‘Erue a framea, Deus, animam meam, et de manu canis unicam meam’ [Ps. 21:21]. Pro anima enim, id est pro se ipso, capite simul oravit et corpore …” Boniface viii, Unam sanctam; Denzinger, Enchiridion, 385,871. “… quod corpus unicam scilicet Ecclesiam nominavit, propter sponsi, fidei, sacramentorum et caritatis Ecclesiae unitatem. Haec est ‘tunica’ illa Domini ‘inconsutilis’ [Jn. 19:23], quae scissa non fuit, sed sorte provenit.” Boniface viii, Unam sanctam; Denzinger, Enchiridion, 385, 871. “Igitur Ecclesiae unius et unicae unum corpus, unum caput, non duo capita quasi monstrum, Christus videlicet et Christi vicarius Petrus Petrique successor, dicente Domino ipsi

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have asserted himself and his see as Christ’s vicar on earth. Previously, popes had claimed to be the vicar of Peter, whereas Peter had been the vicar of Christ. According to Ullmann, “Although as we have said, Gregory vii himself did not claim the vicariate of Christ for himself qua pope, there can be no legitimate doubt that his pontificate and his vigorous assertion of the Petrine fullness of powers materially contributed to the crystallization of the conception that St. Peter was given vicarious powers by Christ.”56 Gregory viewed his fullness of power as being derived from the Petrine commission, a power Gregory had as Peter’s successor and vicar, and as extensive as that power was, it did not include Gregory equating himself or the papacy with Christ’s vicar. Innocent iii, on the other hand, left no question. In his sermon on Isaiah 66:10-​11 for Laetare Sunday, Innocent asserted: The material of this flower however is three-​fold, namely, gold, musk, and balsam. But with the balsam mediating, the musk is joined to the gold. The substance in Christ is three-​fold: deity, body, and soul. But with the soul mediating, the body is joined to deity, because the divine nature is of such great subtlety that it is not fitting that it be joined to body, formed from the mud of the earth, except by the mediation of the rational spirit. The bearer of this flower is the vicar of the Savior, namely, the Roman Pontiff, the successor of Peter, the vicar of Jesus Christ … only however Peter was taken up into the fullness of power, so that the vicar is shown to be of him, who said of himself in the Gospel: ‘All power in heaven and earth has been given to me.’ [Matth. 28:]57 Here Innocent is equating his own office with the vicar of Christ, who has the same fullness of power as did Peter. As Kenneth Pennington argued,

Petro: ‘Pasce oves meas’ [Io. 21:17].” Boniface viii, Unam sanctam; Denzinger, Enchiridion, 385, 872. 56 Ullmann, The Growth of Papal Government, 280–​281. 57 “Triplex est autem in hoc flore materia, videlicet, aurum, muscus, balsamum. Sed mediante balsamo muscus conjungitur auro. Quia triplex est in Christo substantia: deitas, corpus, et anima. Sed mediante anima corpus conjungitur deitati: quia tantae subtilitatis est divina natura, ut corpori de limo terrae formato non congrueret uniri, nisi rationali spiritu mediante. Bajulus hujus floris, vicarius est Salvatoris, Romanus videlicet pontifex, successor utique Petri, vicarius Jesu Christi. … solus autem Petrus assumptus est in plenitudinem potestatis, ut illius ostendatur esse vicarius, qui de se dicit in Evangelio: Data est mihi omnis potestas in coelo et in terra [Matth. 28:].” Innocent iii, Sermo 18 (pl 217, 394D-​395C).

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… Innocent introduced the title “vicar of Christ” or “vicar of God” into the vocabulary that the pope and the curia used to describe the papal office. His verbal images suited contemporary ideas and taste. That the pope’s power was derived from Christ was not a new idea. This had been a basic argument for papal monarchy from patristic times. Innocent’s genius lay in selecting a commonplace idea—​that Christ granted the pope his authority—​and using it to establish the belief that the pope could also exercise certain prerogatives permitted only to Christ and his vicar. The pope was Christ’s legal representative on earth.58 In Unam sanctam, on the other hand, Boniface is clear that the pope is Peter’s successor, and that Peter is Christ’s vicar, but he does not explicitly go as far as did Innocent to consider the pope or the papacy as Christ’s vicar. It can, though be assumed, since if Peter was the vicar of Christ, then Peter’s successors would seemingly be so as well. Yet Boniface asserts papal power based on the Petrine commission with the pope being Peter’s successor, rather than on the pope himself explicitly being Christ’s earthy vicar and therefore the head of the Church. The caput ecclesiae remains one for Boniface, namely Christ, and then in Christ’s place, Christ’s vicar Peter, and then in Peter’s place, Peter’s successors. Moreover, the unity of the Church Boniface equates with the body, namely, the Church as the body of Christ, whereas the head, that is Christ, assures the unity by being joined with the body as bride groom is to his bride, the Church. Hierocratic Unam sanctam certainly is, but it is by no means radically so, and significantly less so than was the papal monarchical vision and assertion of Innocent iii. Boniface appears in his assertions to be closer to Gregory vii than his more recent predecessor. If Boniface’s Unam sanctam was a rather traditional, if not conservative, statement of papal hierocratic theory, the question that begs to be asked is why then was it so controversial? The story is well known: after a series of conflicts with Philip iv of France, Boniface finally issued Unam sanctam, which led Philip, seeing it as the last straw, to send a military force, led by his chancellor Guillaume de Nogaret, to deal with Boniface. Nogaret found Boniface in his chambers in his family estate at Anagni in early September of 1303, but given the rising resistance of the townsmen, had to flee before having had to decide whether to kill Boniface right then and there, or to take him back to France to be tried for heresy. Shaken, Boniface died the following October in Rome. If Unam sanctam was the catalyst for mugging the pope, which even shocked 58 Pennington, Pope and Bishops, 16.

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such a Boniface hater as Dante, what was it about the Bull that was so offensive, so heretical? It could not have been its articulation of papal supremacy as such, since, as argued above, there was nothing all that radical in Unam Sanctam. Yet Unam Sanctam came at the pinnacle of the fierce conflict between Philip iv and Boniface, whereby Philip claimed that Boniface was attempting to dictate domestic French policy, as asserted in the forged version of Boniface’s Ausculta fili promulgated by Peter Flotte.59 Now Boniface claimed that every Christian had to submit directly to him for salvation, a position that was theoretically not much of an issue, but in the political conflict became an issue of ecclesiastical policy. Philip’s salvation was at stake, much as had been Henry iv’s upon his first excommunication by Gregory vii, whereby even if Henry himself did not give his excommunication much credence, his subjects did, and Henry needed their support. Philip may or may not have believed that he was in jeopardy of hell in his battles with Boniface, but now that was what Boniface was proclaiming. Philip could either cave, subjecting not only himself personally, but the kingdom of France itself to the will of Boniface, or try to put an end to the over-​reaches of a pope who had far exceeded the traditional boundaries of the temporal and spiritual realms. Gregory vii’s Dictatus Pape, after all, was a theoretical assertion, not, that we know of, a political manifesto and Gregory’s own political dealings with Henry were notably more traditionally cooperative.60 Boniface was making the theoretical practical policy, thereby proclaiming God’s anointed, the French King, directly subservient to himself. And to this extent, Philip was right. Boniface was doing so, and was doing so based on the earliest treatises of ecclesiology we possess, James of Viterbo’s De regimine Christiano and Giles of Rome’s De ecclesiastica potestate. A new vision not just of papal power, or the relationship between clerical power and lay power, but of the Church itself was being proposed. It was no longer an issue of two complimentary and symbiotic spheres of power within a corporate unity of the Church, but the Church itself was being redefined as a jurisdictional institution with an absolute monarch at its head. In this light, we find the origins of seventeenth-​century Absolutism in the early fourteenth-​century papal hierocratic theory as it was being developed by Augustinian Hermits. Philip’s attempt to combat this development backfired, and the conflict continued between Louis of Bavaria and Pope John xxii, in the context of which we find a competing, newly asserted ecclesiology in the Defensor Pacis of Marsilius of

59 Saak, High Way to Heaven, 18. 60 See H.E.J. Cowdry, Pope Gregory VII, 1073–​1085 (Oxford, 1998).

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Padua. A counter had to be offered, and a counter came, Augustinus’s Summa. It had, though, in so many ways, all begun with Unam Sanctam. 4

Summa de Potestate Ecclesiastica

Augustinus’s Summa de potestate ecclesiastica is the most extensive treatment of the power of the papacy that had been written. The 112 Questions, each with numerous articles, seek to explore the boundaries of papal power within a conception of the Church as a juridical institution. The Summa is a massive work. In writing a treatise for John xxii, Augustinus sought to circumscribe papal power. He was striving to demarcate the limits for John, and to let him know just how far he could go. Thus in Question 32, article 3 of the Summa, Augustinus asks whether the pope can empty purgatory. He answers that theoretically the pope can, because the pope has on earth all the powers of Christ. Yet were the pope to do so, he would err since he could not do so with sufficient knowledge of God’s will; or in other words, emptying purgatory would not be a use of papal power, but an abuse.61 Likewise, Augustinus poses the question of whether the pope is by necessity obligated to reside in Rome. On the one hand, Augustinus replies, the pope is certainly not constrained to reside in Rome, yet on the other, with respect to his flock, the pope is indeed obligated, even by necessity, to reside in Rome.62 When we remember that Augustinus wrote this treatise for John xxii, who was residing in Avignon, Augustinus’s conclusions read as a sharp rebuke and warning. Nevertheless, there is little question that Augustinus exalted the papacy. The pope possesses all of Christ’s powers. He is the final interpreter of scripture.63 He can make or break princes, kings, and emperors.64 Moreover, the pope resides at the pinnacle of the hierarchy of Christian perfection. In the third part of his Summa, Augustinus gives a lengthy discussion of Christian perfection, beginning with Christ and the apostles and the early church, before turning to questions concerning the extent to which offices and states within the contemporary church evidence perfection. For Augustinus, the pope exists in the highest state of Christian perfection, surpassing all other bishops or priests, and all religious.65 “The pope,” Augustinus argued, “is not in the state of 61 Aug.Anc. Summa, q. 32, art. 3 (ed. Cologne, 1475), f. 142r -​144r (283–​287). 62 Aug.Anc. Summa, q. 21, art. 1 (ed. Cologne, 1475), f. 99v-​100r (198–​199). 63 Aug.Anc., Summa, q. 67, art. 2 (ed. Cologne, 1475), f. 245r-​246r (489–​491). 64 Aug.Anc., Summa, qq. 35–​41 (ed. Cologne, 1475), f. 150r-​172r (301–​343). 65 Aug.Anc., Summa, q. 101 (ed. Cologne), f. 338v-​344v. (676–​688).

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acquiring perfection, but he holds the highest level in the state of the already perfect.”66 However, Augustinus wanted the pope never to forget that he is still a bishop, and when speaking of Christ’s reign, though Augustinus does frequently use the title vicarius Christi and caput ecclesie to refer to the pope, it is not the “papacy of Christ” that Augustinus explicates, but the “episcopacy of Christ.”67 Christ’s church is an episcopal church, and it is as such that the pope is the first among equals, just as Peter was the first among the apostles. Though his status, power, and authority are unparalleled, the pope is first and foremost a bishop. The Church, for Augustinus, headed by the pope, was not only as a juridical institution, but also a hierarchy of Christian perfection. These two hierarchies, the hierarchy of jurisdiction and the hierarchy if Christian perfection, formed the central foundation of Augustinus’s work. A comprehensive treatment of the Summa would require a study of its own, and would such be undertaken we would have a much clearer understanding of Augustinus’s role within late medieval political and ecclesiological thought. Here, I will focus on the two primary concepts that formed the basis upon which Augustinus constructed his vision: the power of jurisdiction and Christian perfection. Though the treatment below is by no means comprehensive, I hope to give insight into Augustinus’s magnum opus that might serve as a catalyst for a much needed thorough study and analysis of the Summa as such. 4.1 The Power of Jurisdiction Augustinus began his Summa with a question that directly addressed the issue at hand, namely, a question on the pope’s power (De pape potestate). He did so in ten articles:

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1. Whether only the power of the pope and no other is immediately from God; 2. Whether the power of any and every pope is from God; 3. Whether the power of the pope of universally greater than all others; 4. Whether someone is able to be equal to the pope in power; 5. Whether the power of the pope is more specifically from God than any other power; “Papa autem non est in statu perficiendorum, sed in statu perfectorum supremum gradum tenet.” Aug.Anc., Summa, q. 101, art. 2, resp. (ed. Roma 1479), f. 340r (679). “Totius autem status episcopalis et ecclesiastice hierarchie caput est episcopatus Christi ad quem omnes episcopatus et prelationes omnes ecclesiastici ordinis reducuntur.” Aug. Anc., Summa, q. 88, art. 1 (ed. Cologne, 1475), f. 301r-​v (601–​602).

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6. Whether the power of the pope is one or many; 7. Whether [the power of the pope] is simultaneously priestly and royal; 8. Whether [the power of the pope] is simultaneously temporal and spiritual; 9. Whether the pope’s power is simultaneously eternal and temporal; and 10. Whether it is useful to debate such power.68

Even though the subject of his Summa was ecclesiastical power, Augustinus began directly with a question on the pope’s power, as had Giles of Rome in his own De ecclesiastica potestate. Like Giles, for Augustinus what made the pope the pope, so to speak, was the power of jurisdiction. In the very first article of the first question of his Summa, Augustinus forcefully argued that if a layman was elected pope, he would not have the power of order with regard to the sacraments, but he would have the full jurisdiction of papal power and would truly be pope. The power of order comes directly from God to the pope in so far as the pope is a bishop. It is, however, the power of jurisdiction, which also comes directly from God, that makes the pope the pope.69 This was a position already stated, at least implicitly, as seen in Chapter Three, by Giles, but Augustinus made it his point of departure. The question posed was whether the power of the pope is uniquely derived from God, and Augustinus began by putting forth the arguments that this was not the case. The first was that things that are not of the same nature (ratio), 68

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“Circa primum queruntur decem. Primo Utrum sola potestas pape sit a deo immediate et nulla alia. Secundo utrum potestas cuiuslibet pape sit a deo. Tecio, utrum potestas pape sit universaliter maior omni alia. Quarto, utrum aliquis possit esse equalis pape in potestate. Quinto, utrum singularius sit a deo potestas pape quam aliqua alia. Sexto, uturm potestas pape sit una vel plures. Septimo, utrum sit simul sacerdotalis et regalis. Octavo, utrum sit simul temporalis et spiritualis. Nono, utrum eius potestas sit simul eterna et temporalis. Decimo, utrum sit utile de tali potestate disputare.” Aug.Anc. Summa, q. 1 (ed. Cologne, 1475), fol. 11vb (22). “Et ideo potestas iurisdictionis temporalis quia loquendo de potestate spirituali quantum ad potestatem ordinis que respicit corpus Christi verum et que est respectu ipsorum sacramentorum puto quod talis est in papa in quantum est episcopus et in omnibus episcopis immediate a deo. Cuius racio est quod talis potestas non convenit pape in quantum papa quia si aliquis eligatur in papam nullum ordinem habens erit verus papa et habebit omnem potestatem iurisdictionis in spiritualibus et temporalibus et tamen nullam habebit potestatem ordinis. Convenit ergo potestas ordinis pape in quantum est sacerdos vel episcopus.” Aug.Anc. Summa, q. 1, art. 1, resp. (ed. Cologne, 1475), fol. 11v-​12r (22–​23).

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cannot be reduced into a single thing. The power of the pope, however, and temporal power are of different natures, and therefore cannot be reduced to a single power directly from God. Therefore, both papal power and temporal power are directly from God.70 Second, as stated in canon law, imperial power is directly from God, wherefore papal power cannot alone be directly from God.71 Third, with things that are in and of themselves distinct and are ordered toward distinct ends, the one cannot be reduced to the other and thus both are based on a third thing. Since, therefore, spiritual power and secular power are distinct in and of themselves and are ordered toward distinct ends, both are derived directly from God.72 And fourth, the power of bishops is called ordinary since it is directly from God and not from the pope, whereby what is not able to be taken away by humans, is directly conferred by God, and the power of bishops is not able to be taken away by humans, including the pope. Therefore, it is directly from God and thus the power of the pope is not the only power human receive directly from God.73 Here we find Augustinus putting forward arguments for the parallel origins of papal and imperial, or spiritual and temporal, power. Such were very common and had been, going all the way back to Gelasius and the two swords theory, whereby there were two equal powers, the temporal and the spiritual, even if ultimately the spiritual was supreme. If indeed all powers that be are ordained of God, based on Paul (Rom. 13:1), then it would appear that temporal, imperial, or royal power, is immediately from God just as spiritual, papal, or ecclesiastical power is. Papal hierocratic theory sought to argue that while

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“Videtur enim quod sola potestas pape non sit immediate a deo, quia que non sunt eiusdem rationis unum non reducitur in alterum. Sed potestas pape et potestas secularium principum non sunt eiusdem rationis, ergo videtur quod utraque sit immediate a deo et una non reducatur ad aliam.” Aug.Anc. Summa, q. 1, art. 1, arg. 1 (ed. Cologne, 1475), fol. 11v (22). “Preterera, potestas imperalis immediate est a deo quia sicut dicitur xxiii q. iiii a deo concessa est potestas imperialis et propter vindictam noxiorum gladius fuit permissus, ergo videtur quod talis potestas non sit a deo nec ab homine et per consequens immediate a deo.” Aug.Anc. Summa, q. 1, art. 1, arg. 2 (ed. Cologne, 1475), fol. 11v (22). “Preterea, que distincta sunt in se et ad distinctos fines ordinantur unum non est ab altero ymo immediate reducuntur ad aliud tecium. Sed potestas spiritualis et potestas secularis sunt distincte in se et ordinantur ad distinctos fines sicut habetur x. d.c. quando idem. Et lxxxvi.d. due quippe ergo iste due potestates sunt immediate a deo.” Aug.Anc. Summa, q. 1, art. 1, arg. 3 (ed. Cologne, 1475), fol. 1v (22). “Preterea potestas episcoporum dicitur ordinaria, ergo immediate est a deo et non a papa puta quod non potest auferri ab homine immediate est a deo, sed potestas episcoporum non potest auferri ab eis per papam nec per aliquem hominem, ergo immediate est a deo.” Aug.Anc. Summa, q. 1, art. 1, arg. 4 (ed. Cologne, 1475), fol. 1v (22).

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there are indeed two powers ordained of God, the temporal power is subservient to and derived from the spiritual, ecclesiastical, or papal power. This was too Augustinus’s position. Augustinus was very clear in his responses to the arguments posed. To the first argument, Augustinus responded that although the two powers were not of the same nature, they were of the same nature analogously and thus could be reduced to one and the same power.74 To the second argument, Augustinus claimed that while the two powers are indeed both directly from God, and not from the pope, the secular power is not derived from the pope as a human being, but is derived from the pope as the vicar of Christ.75 To the third argument, Augustinus responded that the two powers are distinct in so far as they are not exercised with respect to the same thing, but that the spiritual jurisdiction of the pope applies to the pope with respect to the immediate institution and execution, whereas the temporal jurisdiction of power applies to the pope with respect to its institution and authority, though not with respect to its immediate exercise, except in particular cases.76 And to the fourth argument, Augustinus replied that indeed the power of order cannot be taken away by any human, but the power of the pope is the power of jurisdiction, and that can be taken away by humans, either through deposition or through suspension.77 Augustinus’s responses to the arguments were based on his determination of the question and his distinction between three modes of the power of jurisdiction with respect to both spiritual and temporal jurisdiction. These three

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“Ad primum ergo dicendum quod potestates predicte licet non sint eiusdem racionis secundum racionem specificam sunt tamen eiusdem racionis secundum racionem analogam, et hoc sufficit ut una reducatur in aliam ordine quodam.” Aug.Anc. Summa, q. 1, art. 1,ad primam (ed. Cologne, 1475), fol. 13r (25). “Ad secundum est dicendum quod verum est potestatem imperialem esse a deo quia non est a papa ut est homo sed est a papa ut gerit vicem Christi in terra qui fuit verus deus et verus homo.” Aug.Anc. Summa, q. 1, art. 1, ad secundum (ed. Cologne, 1475), fol. 13r (25). “Ad tercium est dicendum quod predicte potestates sunt distincte quia non conveniunt uni eodem modo quia potestas iurisdictionis spiritualium convenit pape secundum immmediatam institutionem et executionem, sed potestas iurisdictionis temporalium convenit sibi secundum institutionem et auctoritatem non tamen secundum immediatam executionem nisi forte in quibusdam casibus que notantur extra q. fi. sint legit.c. Per venerabilem.” Aug.Anc. Summa, q. 1, art. 1, ad tercium (ed. Cologne, 1475), fol. 13r (25). “Ad quartum est dicendum quod caracteris impressio que confertur in omnibus ordinibus vel caracteris perfectio que confertur in ordine episcopali talis potestas sive respiceat caracteris impressionem sive caracteris perfectionem non potest auferri per papam que non conferetur ab eo. Sed omnis potestas iurisdictionis potest auferri sicut supra dictum est vel per depositionem vel per suspensionem.” Aug.Anc. Summa, q. 1, art. 1, ad quartum (ed. Cologne, 1475), fol. 13r (25).

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modes were: 1. immediate, or direct; 2. derived; and 3. in service of (in ministerium). With respect to the first mode of jurisdiction, Augustinus claimed that the pope possessed all immediate and direct jurisdiction of spiritual and temporal power.78 All bishops and prelates possessed jurisdiction as derived from the pope, and emperors, kings, and princes had jurisdiction in the third mode, jurisdiction in the service of.79 That the pope has jurisdiction, both spiritual and temporal, directly from God was evident, Augustinus claimed, in three ways. First, the pope, as the successor to Peter, has the keys of the kingdom. Second, the pope has the power to depose bishops and prelates and to remove their spiritual and temporal jurisdiction, which he would not be able to do if his own power was not directly from God. And third, the pope confirms the elections and appointments of bishops and prelates, and thus the spiritual and temporal jurisdiction of bishops and prelates is derived from the pope.80 Augustinus’s arguments are as such not all that convincing. Claiming, for example, that the pope can depose bishops and therefore the pope’s power is directly from God, is circular, in that from where did such a power derive? From God. So that the pope received the power to depose bishops directly from God and therefor he has power directly from God, without proving that the pope indeed has that power that he has exercised. Yet Augustinus’s point here was to assert that the pope has power directly from God, whereas bishops and 78 79 80

“Primo modo potestas iurisdictionis omnium spiritualium et temporalium est solum in papa.” Aug.Anc. Summa, q. 1, art. 1, resp. (ed. Cologne, 1475), fol. 11v (22). “Secundo modo est in omnibus episcopis et prelatis. Tercio modo potestas iurisdicitionis temporalis est in omnibus imperatoribus regibus et principibus secularibus.” Aug.Anc. Summa, q. 1, art. 1, resp. (ed. Cologne, 1475), fol.1 1v (22). “Sed loquendo de potestate iurisdictionis tam spiritualium quam temporalium talis est in papa immediate quod probatur tripliciter. Primo sic auctoritas interdictionis non conceditur nisi per claves ecclesie, sed claves ecclesie Christus non concessit nisi Petro singulariter sicut patet Math. xvi dabo tibi claves regni celorum. Super quo verbo dicit Glosa quod Christus solum unum vicarium et unum caput vult esse in ecclesia ad quod diversa menbra [sic] recurrerent si forte ab invicem dissentirent. Secundo sic, ille qui non dat aliud non potest auferre, sed si papa non daret potestatem interdictionis spiritualium et temporalium episcopis et prelatis non posset eos deponere et dicta auctoritate privare quod est falsum, quia aliquando papa privat eos acutoritate quando deponit, aliquando privat eos execucione auctoritatis quando suspendit, potestas ergo iurisdictionis reside solum in papa. Tercio sic, in illo reside immediate potestas iurisdictionis spiritualium et temporalium cuius auctoritate sit prelatorum electio et confirmacio sed auctoritate pape sit prelatorum electio et confirmatio. Unde in eis dicitur Damascenus vobis auctoritatem administrandi in spiritualibus et temporalibus ergo talis potestatem immediate residet solum in papa. Sed potestas episcoporum et prelatorum iurisdictionis temporalium et spiritualium est derivata et non immediata.” Aug.Anc. Summa, q. 1, art. 1, resp. (ed. Cologne, 1475), fol. 12r (23).

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other prelates have power from God, but power derived from the pope; secular kings and princes have power only to serve the higher power. More important than the arguments as such are Augustinus’s distinctions with respect to the power of jurisdiction. Augustinus does not question that emperors, kings, and princes have jurisdiction. He simply points to the fact that their jurisdiction is in ministerium of the spiritual power. The jurisdiction of bishops and prelates, though, flow from the pope as streams from a font, rays from the sun, and branches from the root of a tree.81 The jurisdiction of the lay temporal powers, however, is that of service to the spiritual powers, whereby the jurisdictional powers of the laity are said to be in ministerium, or for the purpose of ministering to, or serving, the spiritual powers. In this light, whereas we can say, as did Augustinus, that the jurisdictional power of bishops and prelates are derived from the pope, the jurisdictional power of the lay, temporal powers are delegated to emperors, princes, and kings by the Pope. Such powers still are directly from God, but are so through the pope for the purpose of serving the spiritual powers. The spiritual power, and the pope above all, orders all toward the good; is the judge of the good use of the power given by God; and ordains all such power toward the final end.82 For all his distinctions, Augustinus’s 81 82

“Sicut se habent rivuli ad fontem, et radij ad solem, rami ad arborem sic se habet potestas episcoporum ad potestatem pape.” Aug.Anc. Summa, q. 1, art. 1, resp. (ed. Cologne, 1475), fol. 12r (23). “Sed quod potestas temporalis regum imperatorum et aliorum principum secularium sit in ministrium data a deo pape et aliis prelatis ecclesie in quibus residet potestas spiritualis probatur quantum ad presens quatuor rationibus. Primo sic, illa potestas est data ad ministerium alteri per quam habet institui regulari et ordinari atque confirmari si bona sit et per quam habet iudicari et condemnari sive bona sit, sed talis est potestas secularis imperatorum regum et principum, quia per potestatem pape habet institui et regulari et ordinari si bona est et per ipsam habet condemnari et iudicari si bona non sit, ergo talis potestas non est immediate a deo sed est in ministerium potestatis spiritualis data utrumque menbrum [sic] probatur. Scribitur enim xxii. di Quod potestas pape cuiuslibet ordinis dignitatem et gradus instituere habet ipsam vero solus Christus fundavit et supra Petram fidei mox nascentis erexit. Quod beato Petro eterne vite clavigero terreni simul et celstis imperii iura commisit. Quod vero habeat omnem potestatem secularem iudicare et deponere si non bona sit patet xv. q. vi. Ubi dicitur quod Zacharias Romanus pontifex regem francorum non tam pro suis iniquitatibus quam etiam pro eo quod tante potestatis erat inutilis a regno deposuit et Pyppinum patrem Caroli imperatoris loco eius instituit. Secundo sic, illa potestas est in ministerium data alteri cui iuramentum fidelitatis prestat et ab eo cognoscit omne quod habet, sed omnis potestas secularium principum imperatorum et aliorum est talis, dicitur enim lxiii.d.c. tibi domino. Quod imperator iurat summo pontifici nunquam mandatum preterire, et sibi in omnibus fidelitatem servare, ergo talis potestas est sibi solum in ministerium data. Et si inveniatur quandoque aliquos imperatores dedisse aliqua temporalia summis pontificibus sicut Constantinus dedit Silvestro hoc non est intelligendum quod suum est, sed restituetur quod iniuste

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position, his point of departure, is that the pope has all spiritual and temporal power directly from God, and the exercise of that power is consequently through the pope. We gain further insight into Augustinus’s understanding of the power of jurisdiction in Question 4, which treats the question of whether the pope is able to resign, which, as seen above, Giles had treated at length in his De renuntiatione pape. Augustinus too gave extensive treatment to the issue in the eight articles comprising his question. Like Giles, Augustinus based his argument on the distinction between the power of order and the power of jurisdiction. Augustinus had begun in his first question by asserting that power is of two types, the power of order and the power of jurisdiction. With respect to the power of order, “all bishops are equal to the pope.”83 Indeed, as Augustinus argued in Question 4, if that which made the pope the pope was the power of order, the pope would not be able to resign since such power is based on the impression of a character on the soul, which cannot be removed by any

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et tyrranice oblatum est. Eodem modo si legatur quandoque aliquos summos pontifices dare bona temporalia imperatoribus et regibus hoc non est intelligendum eos facere in dominum recognicionem sed magis in pacis ecclesiastice conservationem quia servum dei non oportet litigare sed mansuetum esse ad omnes. Tercio sic, illa potestas est in ministerium data alteri que est subdelegata respectu eius, sed omnis potestas imperatorum et regum est subdelegata respectu potestatis pape. Nam ut dicitur xi.q.l.c. quicumque litem habens cuilibet licitum est sacrosancte sedis antistitis iudicium eligere ergo omnis potestas secularis est in ministerium data potestati spirituali. Quarto sic, illa potestas est in ministerium data alteri que est restringenda amplianda et executioni mandanda ad imperium illius cui est in ministerium data sed talis est omnis potestas secularis. Dicit enim Bernardus ad Eugenium papam super illo verbo. Ecce gladii duo hic, Quod tu de uno usurpare gladio temporali, et subdit quem tamen gladium tuum esse negat non satis videtur michi attendere verbum domini dicentis sic, Converte gladium tuum in vaginam suam. Tuus ergo gladius evaginandus est ad tuum imperium alioquin si nullo modo ad te pertineret dicentibus apostolis. Ecce duo gladii hic. Non respondisset Christus satis est, sed unus est, potestas ergo iurisdictionis spiritualium et temporalium immediata est in solo papa. Derivata vero est in omnibus episcopis ac prelatis. Sed in omnibus secularibus et principibus est in ministerium.” Aug.Anc. Summa, q. 1, art. 1, resp. (ed. Cologne, 1475), fol.12r-​13r (23–​25); cf. Aug.Anc. Summa, q. 35 and 36. “Dicendum quod potestas est duplex, una ordinis et alia iurisdictionis, loquendo ergo de potestate ordinis, omnes episcopi sunt equales pape in tali potestate. Cuius racio duplex est. Prima talis: omnis potestas ordinis vel respicit caracteris impressionem vel respicit caracteris perfectionem. Nam caracteris impressio fit in septem ordinibus quia in quolibet ordine imprimitur caracter in episcopatu vero licet non imprimatur caracter perficitur tamen caracter iam impressus ut pre talem perfectionem possit episcopus qui eset perfectus sacerdos sibi similes generare. Sed omnes episcopi habent caracteris impressionem et caracteris perfectionem, ergo omnes episcopi sunt equales pape in potestate ordinis.” Aug.Anc. Summa, q. 1, art. 4 resp. (ed. Cologne, 1475, fol. 15r (29).

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human. Moreover, if that were the case, only a priest or a bishop could be elected pope. Here Augustinus again argued for the possibility of a lay pope, who would be pope even if lacking the power of order of a priest or bishop.84 Giles had rather in passing posited the possibility of a lay pope based on the power of jurisdiction, but Augustinus made the assertion the foundation of his position. Since the papacy is an office or jurisdiction, it is not based on the power of order. Augustinus was not the first to divorce the papacy from the bishopric of Rome, as that had been Giles, but he was the first to so forcefully argue for such, even as, as we will see, that assertion is based on a theoretical distinction more than as a practical principal of policy. Yet Augustinus stressed

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“Dicendum quod si in papatu imprimeretur caracter vel perfectio caracteris duo in convenientia sequerentur. Primum quod papa non posset renunciare papatui. Secundum est quod non posset aliquis eligi in papam nisi esset sacerdos vel episcopus quod utrumque est falsum nam cum caracter sit potestas spiritualis data homini a Christo supra corpus eius verum quia omnes ordines ad sacramentum eucaristie ordinantur in quo corpus Christi verum continetur non potest talis potestas ab homine auferri postquam sibi imprimitur. Unde ponunt doctores quod remanet in anima separata, si ergo in papatu imprimitur talis potestas caracteris ut papa vel perfectio caracgteris non posset papa renunciare nec posset cedere tali potestai, quia sacerdos non potest renunciare quod non sit episcopus recepta perfectione caracteris per quam potest fideles ordinatur ad conficiendum corpus Christi verum. Similiter ergo papa non posset renunciare papatui recepto caractere papali. Est enim hoc infallibile verum quod omnia illa que pertinent ad potestatem ordinis vel ad ordinis perfectionem non possunt tolli nec auferri quocumque modo vel per cessionem vel per depositionem. Sed illa que pertinent ad potestatis ordinis iurisdictionem possunt tolli et auferri propter quod si in papatu imprimeretur aliqua potestas ordinis alia a septem ordinibus vel aliqua perfectio ordinis ab illa que imprimeretur in papatu non posset talis potestas a papa tolli nec per eius cessionem nec per aliquam depositionem. Secundum inconveniens sequeretur quod non posset aliquis eligi in papam nisi esset sacerdos vel episcopus, tota enim causa quare non potest aliquis fieri epsicopus nisi sit sacerdos est quod in episcopatu non imprimitur alius caracter ab ordine presbiterii. Unde notatur lii.d.c. sollicitudo quod si in episcopatu imprimeretur caracter alius a vii ordinibus posset quis fieri episcopus per saltum quia posset fieri episcopus non factus sacerdos, sicut potest fieri presbiter, non factus diaconus, quia in quolibet ordine inprimitur distinctus caracter quod tamen non est quia ut ibi dicitur non potest fieri episcopus qui non habet caracterem sacerdotalem nam sicut omnes caracteres qui imprimuntur in ordinibus et in sacramento confirmationis presupponunt caracterem baptismalem ita perfectio caracteris que imprimitur in episcopatu presupponit caracterem sacerdotalem. Si ergo in papatu imprimeretur caracter aut esse distinctus a caractere vii ordinum et sic ordo presbiterii non teneret septimum ordinem ut supradictum est aut esset perfectio caracteris sacerdotalis vel episcopalis et sic non posset fieri aliquis papa nisi esset episcopus vel sacerdos quod est falsum quia potest eligi aliquis in papam qui non sit episcopus nec sacerdos et erit verum papa quantum ad potestatem iurisdictionis licet non quantum ad omnem potestatem ordinis.” Aug.Anc. Summa, q. 4, art. 1, resp. (ed. Cologne, 1475, fol. 39r-​v (77–​78).

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the theoretical position, as seen in his second article of Question 4, which dealt explicitly with the distinction between the power of order and the power of jurisdiction and which power was the power that made the pope the pope. Augustinus put forward four differences between the power of order and the power of jurisdiction to establish that the power of jurisdiction was that which made the pope the pope, or in Augustinus’s terms, that the pope is a name of jurisdiction (papa est nomen jurisdictionis). The first was that “the power of order is incorruptible and immutable, whereas the power of jurisdiction is moveable and transitory.”85 The second is that the power of order in and of itself is that with respect to the true body of Christ, whereby it confers the power to consecrate [the elements as] the true body of Christ with respect to priestly power, or, with respect to episcopal power, to ordain the faithful so that they might have the power to consecrate [the elements as] the body of Christ. The power of jurisdiction, however, refers to the mystical body of Christ, because thereby the power of order to bind and loose with respect to the faithful is conferred on someone by means of the power of jurisdiction.86 The third difference is that the power of order does not distinguish between the greater or lesser within that order, whereby all priests are equal with respect to the power of order, and all bishops are equal with respect to the power of order. The ordering, or the hierarchy, within the various ecclesiastical orders is based then on jurisdiction, and the pope, in this respect, is the highest priest and bishop, which is a determination based on jusridiction, and not on order.87 85 86

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“Prima quia potestas ordinis est incorruptibilis et immutabilis, potestas vero iurisdictionis est mobilis et transitoria.” Aug.Anc. Summa, q. 4, art. 2, resp. (ed. Cologne, 1475, fol. 40r (79). “Secunda differentia est quia potestas ordinis per se respicit corpus Christi verum ut ipsum corpus Cristi conficere potest quantum ad sacerdotalem potestatem vel fideles ordinare ut corpus Christi possint conficere quantum ad potestatem episcopalem. Sed potestas iurisdictionis magis respicit corpus Cristi misticum quia ex quo potestatem ordinis in ipsos fideles a peccatis ligando vel solvendo convenit alicui per potestatem iurisdictionis.” Ibid. “Tercia differencia est quia potestas ordinis non recipit magis et minus nam potestate ordinis ut dicit caracteris impressionem omnes sacerdotes sunt equales in sacerdotio et omnes dyaconi sunt equales in dyaconatu et sic de aliis. Similiter de potestate ordinis ut dicit caracteris perfectionem omnes episcopi sunt equales in episcopatu. Sed potestas iurisdictionis recipit magis et minus quia in tali potestate unus sacerdos posset esse maior alio et unus episcopus maior alio episcopo et supremus in ordine episcoporum est ipse papa qui indiffinitam iurisdictionem habens omnibus habet talem potestatem

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The fourth difference is that the power of jurisdiction can confer that which the power of order cannot. If, Augustinus argued, the pope ordains monastics to the priesthood, this does not give those so ordained the power of jurisdiction with respect to the care of souls. Likewise, the pope can confer a prebend or benefice on a youth without conferring the power of order on that youth.88 Based on these four differences, it is clear, Augustinus argued, that what makes the pope the pope is the power of jurisdiction. A layman elected as pope would truly be pope and have all the jurisdiction of the papacy, but would not have any power of order. Based on the power of order, the pope is equal to all bishops, if in fact the pope is a bishop; but if he is not, he is, with respect to the power of order and with respect to the true body of Christ, he is lower than any priest or bishop. In such a case, he would nevertheless still be the pope.89 To this extent, Augustinus indeed divorced the office of the pope, that is, the papacy as such, from the office, or order, of the bishop of Rome. This theoretical assertion was central to Augustinus’s understanding of the papacy. It was, however, only one side of the coin, so to speak. Although Augustinus asserted in extremely strong terms that the pope was the pope based on the power of jurisdiction, he also asserted equally strongly that the

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iurisdictionis diffinite taxare et determinare.” Aug.Anc. Summa, q. 4, art. 2, resp. (ed. Cologne, 1475), fol. 40r-​v (79–​80). “Quarta differentia est quia una istarum potestatum potest conferri sine alia, nam si episcopus ordinat aliquos religiosos in sacerdotes dat eis omnem potestatem ordinis non tamen confert eis potestatem iurisdictionis cum de iure communi non conveniat eis cura animarum. Similiter si papa confert prebendam aliquam alicui dat ei potestatem iurisdictionis non tamen confert ei potestatem ordinis quia si forte est puer dispensat cum eo super defectu scientie et etatis.” Aug.Anc. Summa, q. 4, art. 2, resp. (ed. Cologne, 1475), fol. 40v (80). “Ex istis ergo quatuor differenciis patet quod papatus est nomen iurisdictionis et non ordinis. Primo quia potest cedere papatui ut non sit papa. Sed non potest cedere quod non sit sacerdos vel episcopus que sunt nomina potestatis ordinis. Secundo quia in papatu nullus est equalis sibi. Sed in potestate episcopali vel sacerdotali omnes episcopi vel sacerdotes sunt sibi equales. Tercio quia papa ut papa non habet potestatem super corpus Christi verum. Nam si papa non esset sacerdos non posset Christi corpus conficere, nec posset fideles in sacerdotes ordinare ut dominicum corpus conficerent, si non esset episcopus quamquam esset verus et legittimus papa. Quarto quia posset habere omnem potestatem pertinentem ad papam et tamen carere potestate ordinis.” Ibid; “Ad primum ergo est dicendum quod laycus sine litteratura quantuncumque polleret sanctitate vite non debet aspirare ad summum sacerdotium, quia electio non caderet super materia congrua. Si tamen litteratus esset et alia condicta non obstarent puta supposito quod esset laicus et non esset constitutus in sacris electus in papam esset verus papa, et haberet omnem potestatem iurisdictionis papalis cum eciam de aliis dignitatibus.” Aug. Anc. Summa, q. 4, art. 2, ad primum (ed. Cologne, 1475, fol. 40v (80).

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pope was, at least practically, the bishop of Rome and as such, had responsibilities that could not be overlooked. A lay pope would still be the true pope, but would be of lesser power than a bishop or even a simple priest with respect to the power of order, and would not be able to celebrate mass. Indeed, the sacramental function of the pope stems from his power of order, whereby the pope, as bishop of Rome, is equal to all bishops. Thus, all bishops are the highest priest, since the bishopric is the highest ecclesiastical order.90 While Augustinus does frequently use the title vicarius Christi and caput ecclesie to refer to the pope, when speaking of Christ’s reign, it is not the “papacy of Christ” that Augustinus delineates, but the “episcopacy of Christ.”91 Christ’s church is an episcopal church, and it is as such that the pope is the first among equals, just as Peter was the first among the apostles. Though his status, power, and authority are unparalleled, the pope is first and foremost a bishop. Thus in Question 21 of his Summa, Augustinus first asserted that the pope, as pope, based on his power of jurisdiction, was not required to reside in Rome, but could indeed reside wherever he chose, and we must not forget that Augustinus wrote his Summa for Pope John xxii, who was residing in Avignon. Yet for Augustinus, this was a theoretical possibility, and when the practical reality was taken into consideration, with respect to his subjects, the pope was obligated, even by necessity, to reside in Rome.92 Augustinus was exploring the boundaries of papal power, and he wanted to make sure that Pope John knew what those boundaries were. The theoretical and the practical should be joined together, even if technically they were distinct. Even as Augustinus argued most explicitly

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“Et ideo potestas iurisdicitonis temporalis quia loquendo de potestate spirituali quantum ad potestatem ordinis que respicit corpus Christi verum et que est respectu ipsorum sacramentorum puto quod talis est in papa in quantum est episcopus et in o­ mnibus episcopis immediate a deo. Cuius racio est quod talis potestas non convenit pape in quantum papa quia si aliquis eligatur in papam nullum ordinem habens erit verus papa et habebit omnem potestatem iurisdictionis in spiritualibus et temporalibus et tamen nullam habebit potestatem ordinis. Convenit ergo potestas ordinis pape in quantum est sacerdos vel episcopus.” Aug.Anc. Summa, q. 1, art. 1, resp.(ed. Cologne, 1475, fol. 11v-​12r (22–​23); “Ad tercium est dicendum quod esse papam et esse summum sacerdotem duo potest importare vel ipsius potestatis ordinis impressionem, et sic omnes episcopi sunt summi sacerdotes quia potestatem sacerdotalem habent perfectam et in supremo gradu, in quo potest haberi, et quantum ad hoc dato quod papa sit episcopus non est magis summus sacerdos quam unus alius episcopus vel potest dicere dicte potestatis executionem et sic solus papa est summus sacerdos quia solus ipse potest per ipsum exequi et executioni mandare indefinite et universaliter.” Aug.Anc. Summa, q. 4, art.2, ad tercium (ed. Cologne, 1475), fol. 40v (80). 91 See note 67 above. 92 Saak, High Way to Heaven, 109–​112.

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and most thoroughly for the absolute power of the pope, based on the power of jurisdiction, he also wanted to limit and warn John that power could be abused, whereby an infallible pope could be falliable indeed and would have to answer to God for his errors.93 Augustinus was striving to push the limits for John, and to let him know just how far he could go. Thus in Question 32, article 3 of the Summa, Augustinus asked whether the pope can empty purgatory. He answered that theoretically the pope can, because the pope has on earth all the powers of Christ. Yet were the pope to do so, he would err since he could not do so with sufficient knowledge of God’s will; or in other words, emptying purgatory would not be a use of papal power, but an abuse.94 And yet, as seen above, Augustinus likewise exalted the papacy, attributing to the pope all of Christ’s powers. The pope is the final interpreter of scripture,95 and makes or breaks princes, kings, and emperors.96 And even if Christ’s Church is an Episcopal Church, and is truly such, it is also a Church with order and jurisdiction, and within Time, in our temporal realm, rightly or wrongly, the pope has the highest jurisdiction and power. In other words, when “push comes to shove,” the “buck stops” with the pope. And John xxii and Louis of Bavaria were pushing pretty hard indeed! Even given the extent to which Augustinus contributed to the development of political absolutism with his theoretical view of the papacy, the “Episcopacy of Christ” is a most fitting label for Augustinus’s ecclesiology, and it is one that is also inherently “Augustinian.”97 Augustinus’s Order was founded by a bishop, and by a bishop who had also been a monk, a fact neither the Franciscans nor the Dominicans could claim. In short, Augustinus’s arguments on papal power were based, at least in part, on his view of his own Order, and the primacy of Augustine and Augustine’s “true sons.” 4.2 Christian Perfection In the third part of his Summa, Augustinus treated Christian perfection at length, beginning with Christ and the apostles and the early church, before turning to questions concerning the extent to which offices and states within the contemporary Church evidence perfection. Here Augustinus started with the pope, followed by the cardinals, bishops, priests and curates. Then he treated the mendicants, followed by religious possessing things in common. 93 94 95 96 97

Ibid., 106–​138. See above, n. 61. See above, n. 63. See above, n. 64. Saak, “The Episcopacy of Christ.”

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He then turned to preachers, teachers, and doctors, and concluded with medical doctors, notaries, lawyers and judges,98 as outlined in Table 3 below. For grasping Augustinus’s understanding of the ecclesiastical hierarchy, this third part of his Summa is the most important. The first part focused on the power of the pope as such, whereas then the second part turned to the role of ecclesiastical power with respect to its functioning and order.99 Yet the third part deals with the hierarchy itself, based on Christian perfection, which is based on love. In some ways, the first two parts of the Summa focus on the potestas jurisdictionis, whereas then the third part turns to the potestas ordinis, even as issues relating to the distinction between the potestas ordinis and potestas jurisdictionis are present throughout. The third part concerns the status, or office, of the papacy itself, even if the individual holding that office does not exhibit, for example, the highest degree of personal perfection. Consequently, Augustinus’s conception of ecclesiastical power, including papal power, cannot be understood separately from his treatment in part three of his Summa. Unfortunately, part iii, is the most overlooked part of the Summa by scholars 98

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“Visum est quomodo status perfectio in Christo fuit exemplariter demonstrata, et quomodo ab eo in eius apostolos fuit derivata et qualiter in primitiva ecclesia existit observata, nunc videndum quomodo in viris ecclesiasticis presentis temporis est representata accipiendo ecclesiasticos viros non solum illos qui assumuntur sed eos qui ydoneitatem habent, ut ad gradum ecclesiasticum assumi possint. Circa quod xii consideranda occurrunt: Primo qualiter status perfectio representatur in papa; Secundo quomodo in cardinalibus; Tertio qualiter in episcopis; Quarto quomodo in curatis et presbyteris; Quinto quomodo in religiosis mendicantibus; Sexto quomodo in religiosis in communi possessiones habentibus; Septimo quomod in sacre scripture predicatoribus; Octavo quomodo in magistris et doctoribus; Nono quomodo in medicis; Decimo quomodo in notariis; Undecimo quomodo in advocatis; Duodecimo qualiter in iudicibus et rectoribus.” Aug. Anc. Summa, q. 101, art. 1, pref. (ed. Cologne, 1475), fol. 338v (676). “Quia de potestate ecclesiastica tractare sermonem assumpsimus cum potentia referatur ad actuum et ad effectum et per potentiam status unius distinguatur ab alio triplex consideratio de potentia pape occurrit, primo ut consideratur secundum se. Secundo ut comparatur ad effectum. Et tercio ut comparatur ad statum quem per talem potentiam homo consequitur. De potentia vero pape secundum se triplex consideratio est necessaria. Primo respectu dei a quo est principaliter et effective. Secundo respectu eligentium a quibus est instrumentaliter et cooperative. Tercio respectu ipsius ecclesie cui preest admi[ni]stratione et auctoritate.” Aug.Anc., Summa, pref. (ed. Cologne, 1475), fol. 11v (22); “Explicit prima pars huius operis in qua diximus de potestate ecclesiastica secundum se. Hic incipit determinare de ecclesiastica potestate secundum quod comperatur ad affectum. Post visum est de potestate ecclesiastica secundum se, nunc considerandum est de ipsa per comparationem ad actum ad quem ordinatur. fol. 149v-​150r (300–​301); “Incipit tercia pars, in qua determinatur de ecclesiastica potestate secundum quam comperatur ad statum quem per talem potentiam homo consequitur.” Aug.Anc.Summa q. 76, pref. (ed. Cologne, 1475), fol. 269r (537).

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Chapter 5 Augustinus de Ancona, Summa de potestate ecclesiastica, pars tercia (qq. 76–​112)

Perfection and perfection observed (early church)

Question

Christ Apostles Bishops, priests and deacons, monks, martyrs, confessers, preachers, teachers Perfection Represented in (contemporary Church) Pope Cardinals Bishops Priests and curates Mendicants Monks possessing goods in common Preachers Masters and Doctors Medical Doctors Notaries Lawyers (Advocates) Judges

76–​83 84–​91 92–​100

101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112

who have dealt with Augustinus. It merits serious and extensive scholarly attention and analysis. Notably missing from Augustinus’s treatment of the hierarchy of Christian perfection is any mention of lay political rule. He had explicitly stated that he was going to deal with Christian perfection within the Church, treating various groups of ecclesiastics. That could explain the absence of lay rulers, though he did include notaries, advocates, judges and medical doctors, which were not as such part of the ecclesiastical hierarchy. His point, though, was to examine the extent and under what circumstances, clerics could exercise such functions.100 100 E.g.: Ad nonum sic proceditur. Videtur enim quod medicine ars clericis et religiosis non sit interdicta. Officium enim quod Christus exercuit absque peccato a quolibet exerceri potest cum ipse in omnibus disciplina morum fuerit … Respondeo. Dicendum quod

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He then concluded his work with a question on the extent to which judges represent Christian perfection and whether they are judged by God in making their own judgements. The non-​ecclesiastical offices Augustinus treated were, with the exception of medical doctors, all related to legal issues. God was the eternal judge, judging all things, and this was what Augustinus wanted to emphasize, whereby human judges were performing a divine function.101 Medical doctors were concerned with human health, the health of the body, much as pastors were concerned with the health of human souls, in keeping with Augustine’s definition of “healing grace” (gratia sanans).102 The point of each office here medicinam artem esse interdictam clericis et religiosis dupliciter potest intelligi. Primo quantum ad consilium. Secundo quantum ad practicum exercicium. Primo modo non interdicitur illis qui periciam artis medicine plene moverunt quin visis signis secundum principa artis possint consilium dare super curacione egritudinis quam eis proponitur, ymo hoc est laudabile et virtutis opus. Sed secundo modo potissime constitutis in sacris interdicitur practicum exercicium propter tria …” Aug.Anc. Summa, q. 109, art. 9, arg. 1 et resp. (ed. Cologne, 1475), fol. 373v (746); “Ad quintum sic proceditur. Videtur eim quod notarius factus religoisus non posset notariatus officium exercere, quia homo mortuus mundo non potest exercere officium viventium in mundo … Respondeo. Dicendum quod notarius factus religiosus non amittitit potestatem conficiendi instrumentum sicut sacerdos nunquam amittit potestatem sacerdocii postquam factus est sacerdos, quia si dispensaretur cum eo per illum que potest facere de religioso secularem non oporteret quod interim fiet notarius amittit ergo per introitum religionis execucionis officium in actibus et contractibus civilis vite, quia non remanet in mundo …” Aug.Anc. Summa, q. 110, art. 5 arg. 1 et resp. (ed. Cologne, 1475), fol. 376v-​377r (752–​753). 101 “Respondeo. Dicendum quod sicut non est idem deus et homo, ita non eodem iudico iudicat deus quo iudicat homo. Non enim primo iudicat eodem iudicio substancialiter quia deus iudicat iudicio quod substancialiter est ipse deus. Homo vero iudicat iudicio quod non substancialiter est ipse homo. Iudicat enim homo iudicio legali vel legali iusticia, que est quidam habitus accidentalis in anima acquisitus … homo non iudicat eodem iudicio efficienter, quia deus iudicat iudicio principaliter ex propria auctoritate, homo vero iudicat iudicio ministeriali. Est enim minister dei bonis in bonum et vindex in iram eis qui operantur malum.” Aug.Anc. Summa q. 112, art. 5 resp. (ed. Cologne, 1475), fol. 383v-​384r (766–​767). 1 02 “Respondeo. Dicendum quod sancta scriptura Ecclesi. xxviij. Tripliciter honorem et reverentiam videtur tribuere medicinalis scientie professoribus. Primo, propter deum efficientem et ipsam ad salutem hominum producentem, quia alitissimus de terra creavit medicinam et vir prudens non abhorrebit illam. Cum enim opera dei sint bona, valde quilibet tenetur honorae et non spernere que constat creatorem ad utilitatem hominum fecisse, sicut glosa ibi dicit. Secundo propter medicum ipsam fideliter administrantem, quia disciplina medici exaltabit caput illius in presenti vita et in futura sicut glosa ibi ait, et in conspectu magnatorum collaudabitur. Tercio propter infirmum ipsam recipientem, quia ibi dici honora medicum propter necessitatem etenim illum creavit altissimus. Super quo verbo dicit Glosa quod sunt medici corporales et spirituales. Corporales namque medici corpora, spirituales vero animas curant. Utrique ergo honorandi, sed spirituales sunt preferendi.” Aug.Anc. Summa, q. 109, art. 1, resp. (ed. Cologne, 1475), fol. 369v (738).

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was the extent to which its inhabitants evidenced Christian perfection, which was the extent to which one loved God. Augustinus cited Augustine to affirm that the level of perfection is based on the extent of one’s love for God. And in this light, the pope exhibited the highest degree of Christian perfection, for the pope exhibited the highest degree of love.103 A thorough study of Augustinus’s concept of the hierarchy of Christian perfection would shed much important light on his view of the Church. Yet such a study is beyond the scope of our present concerns, which are Augustinus’s role within the establishment of the Augustinian ideology. For this purpose, two subjects emerge as of most importance: the perfection of the pope; and the place within the hierarchy of Christian perfection of the Augustinian Hermits. While the political platform of the oesa lay behind the hierocratic theory of Giles of Rome and James of Viterbo, Augustinus combined explicitly the perfection of the Hermits within Christian perfection with his hierocratic position of the pope’s power and position. 4.2.1 The Perfection of the Pope In considering Augustinus’s treatment of the perfection of the pope, we have to keep in mind that for Augustinus, the term “pope” could signify three distinct “things,” all of which combined, whereby one could claim that Augustinus had a “trinitarian” theory of the pope. The pope was, first and foremost, the embodiment of the office of the papacy, whereby the power of jurisdiction of the office was answerable only to God and possessed all the power of Christ, for the pope as the embodiment of the papacy was Christ’s vicar. Yet the pope was also the highest priest, for even within the power of ordination, with respect to which all bishops were equal, being all high priests, there was a need for a highest priest, which combined the power of order with the power of jurisdiction. Yet the pope was at the same time an individual human being, a servant of the servants of Christ. These three components that comprised “the pope” have to be kept in mind in order to understand Augustinus’s ecclesiology: the pope as the embodiment of the papacy; the pope as the highest priest; and the pope as an individual. Thus, to use an example given above, the pope had the power to empty purgatory, based on the pope as the embodiment of the 103 “Dicendum quod sicut dicit Augustinus ad comitem Bonifacium, quanto ardentius deus amatur, tanto maior perfectio amantis demonstratur; tanto ergo status pefectio maior censetur in papa quam in quocunque alio episcopo, quanto eius status maiorem et perfectiorem charitatem requirit quam status cuiuscunque episcopi vel pastoris. Et possumus dicere quod status pape maiorem charitatem requirit, intensive, extensive, permansive.” Aug.Anc. Summa, q. 101, art. 1, resp. (ed. Cologne, 1475), fol. 339r (677).

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papacy, yet were he to do so, he were err, based on the insufficiency and fallibility of the human being. The pope was simultaneously fallible and infallible, depending on which signification of “pope” was being referenced. The lines, however, could be blurred, for the pope was simply the pope, combining all three significations. Thus, for Augustinus, the pope exists in the highest state of Christian perfection, surpassing all other bishops or priests, and all religious.104 “The pope,” Augustinus argued, “is not in the state of acquiring perfection, but he holds the highest level in the state of the already perfect.”105 And yet there could be and have been “bad popes.”106 The seeming contradiction of a pope being in a state of being “already perfect,” surpassing in perfection all others, and a “bad” pope, stems from Augustinus’s “trinitarian” view of the papacy and the possible discrepancy between the office and the person. Such a distinction between office and person goes all the way back to the Donatist controversy, and thus little surprise that Augustinus, as had Giles and James, took Augustine’s side. The efficacy of the sacraments is not based on the moral quality of the priest celebrating them, or in technical terms, the sacraments are efficacioius ex opere operato, not ex opere operantis. Thus for Augustinus, even a defrocked, “bad” priest can efficaciously celebrate mass, based on the power of order and the priest’s indelible character. James had argued that the level of Christian perfection was based on the office, or status within the ecclesiastical hierarchy, not on the person. Thus there could well be more perfect laymen, individually speaking, than priests or bishops, even as priests and bishops existed in a higher state of Christian perfection.107 Yet whereas a “bad” priest or a “bad” bishop did not tarnish the priesthood or episcopacy as such, since no priest embodied the priesthood of Christ nor a bishop the episcopacy of Christ, since there remained good priests and good bishops, the pope was a singular office, embodying the papacy and the papacy as Christ’s vicar. The office of priest or bishop was clearly distinct from particular individuals holding the office, yet for the pope, the individual embodied the office, even as he remained an individual. The pope as an individual could indeed be “bad,” though a “bad pope,” one openly evil, still had to 104 “Sed cum episcopi singuli in partem solitudinis sint assumpti, papa vero in plenitudinem potestatis vocatus sit. Tanto perfectiori modo talis gradus caritatis in papa esse requiritur, quanto pro pluribus et pluribus modis voto se obligat animam pro ovibus et pastoribus ponere quam quilibet episcoporum.” Aug.Anc. Summa q. 101, art. 1, ad tercium (ed. Cologne, 1475), fol. 339v (678); see also Saak, High Way to Heaven, 74–​106. 105 “Papa autem non est in statu perficiendorum, sed in statu perfectorum supremum gradum tenet.” Aug.Anc., Summa, q. 101, art. 2, ed. Roma 1479, f. 280va. 106 Saak, High Way to Heaven, 117–​120. 107 Saak, “The Life and Works of James of Viterbo,” 23.

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be obeyed as long as he remained pope.108 A bad pope, one who abused his powers and office, was still the pope and could be judged by no one, except God. A pope ceases to be pope by three means: 1. His physical death; 2. His abdication; or 3. His spiritual death in falling into heresy. A heretical pope was a contradiction in terms, for Augustinus, for by falling into heresy, clear and open heresy, the pope was by that very fact no longer pope. Augustinus did not give a list of what constituted the type of heresy that would render a pope no longer pope.109 Simony in any case was not included. He did, though, give details regarding when a pope should and should not be obeyed. Question 22 of the Summa deals explicitly with the obedience owed to the pope. Augustinus began by positing three arguments that indeed all Christians are obligated to obey the pope in all things, for children are to obey parents in all things and since the pope is the spiritual father of all Christians, Christians are held to obey the pope even more than their parents.110 Second, inferiors are not to judge their superiors, nor are those in greater positions to be judged by those in lower one. Since Christians are subject to the pope, it is not for Christians to judge in what things to obey the pope and in what things not to do so.111 And third, the pope is the prelate of all Christians, and according to

108 “Dupliciter ergo honor potest exhiberi ipsi pape. Primo, in testimonium virtutis sue et gracia sue bonitatis et sanctitatis. Secundo, in testimonium virtutis Christi et gracia Christi cuius vicarius existit iuxta illud 1 ad Corinthios v. Sic nos existimet homo ut ministros Christi, quamdiu ergo est vicarius Christi et quamdiu non desinit esse papa, dato quod sit apte malus, honor papalis sibi subtrahendus non est.” Aug.Anc. Summa q. 9, art. 6, resp. (ed. Cologne, 1475), fol. 65v (130); the Rome, 1479 edition reads: “Et isto modo papa aperte malus a fidelibus est honorandus quamdiu a deo tolleratur in papatu et quamdiu non desinit esse papa, quia non exhibetur alicui honor ille in testimonium virtutis sue, sed alieni [scil. Christi]. Aug.Anc., Summa, q. 9, art. 6, resp. (ed. Rome, 1479), fol. 47ra. 109 “Si ergo papa deprehendatur devius a fide, mortuus est ipse vita spirituali et per consequens aliis influere vitam non potest. Unde sicut homo mortuus non est homo, ita papa deprehensus in heresi non est papa, propter quod ipso facto est depositus.” Aug.Anc., Summa, q. 5, art. 1, resp. (ed. Cologne, 1475), fol. 46v (92). 110 “Videtur enim quod pape christiani in omnibus teneantur obedire; scribitur enim ad Colo. iiii. Filii obedite parentibus vestris per omnia. Multo ergo magis in omnibus tenemur obedire pape, quia ut scribitur ad Hebr. xii, si patres quidem carnis nostre habuimus eruditiores et reverebamur eos, multo magis obtemperabimus patri sprituum et vivemus.” Aug.Anc., Summa, q. 22, art. 1, arg. 1 (ed. Cologne, 1475), fol. 101v (202). 111 “Preterea inferior non debet de superior iudicare, quia maiores a minoribus iudicari non possunt … non spectat ergo ad subditos christianos iudicare vel discernere in quibus debeant obedire pape vel non.” Aug.Anc., Summa, q. 22, art. 1, arg.2 (ed.Cologne, 1475), fol. 101v (202).

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St. Benedict, subjects of a prelate are to obey the prelate.112 However, as stated in Acts, one is to obey God above humans, so that if the pope commands something that is against God, Christians are to obey God.113 Augustinus then offered his response. Augustinus based his reply on the three types of law to which all are subject: the divine law, the natural law, and the positive law, both canon law and civil law. If the pope were to command Christians to believe or to act contrary to divine law, such as worshipping a created thing, or taking God’s name in vain, or refraining from worshipping God, then the pope should not be obeyed, but strongly resisted. Similarly, should the pope command something in violation of natural law, such as fornication, theft, or killing the innocent, he likewise should not be obeyed. In cases, however, of positive law, the pope is to be obeyed, for the pope is that office that confirms and establishes positive law, even if such a papal command seems to contradict the positive law. The pope is the one to interpret the law, just as the pope is the final interpreter of Scripture, and therefore such interpretations and commands must be obeyed.114 In many ways, Augustinus’s response goes back to his view of papal jurisdiction. The pope does not have jurisdiction over God or over nature, but does have jurisdiction over all temporal and spiritual concerns of human beings in this life, and, as seen above, over those in Purgatory. Thus, the dictates even of a bad pope must be obeyed, providing they concern ecclesiastical or civil law. In this realm, no one indeed can judge the pope, or determine when he should be 112 “Preterea papa est prelatus omnium christianorum; sed beatus Benedictus dicit in regula sua quod si prelatus precipiat impossibile subditos debet temptare implere.” Aug.Anc., Summa, q. 22, art. 1, arg.2 (ed.Cologne, 1475), fol. 101v (202). 113 “In contrarium est, quia ut scribitur Act. iiii. Obedire oportet deo magis quam hominibus. Si ego papa mandaret aliquid contra deum fieri, sibi non esset obediendum.” Aug.Anc., Summa, q. 22, art. 2, contra (ed.Cologne, 1475), fol. 101v (202). 114 “Dicendum quod illa que papa precipit vel clauduntur sub iure naturali vel sub iure divino vel sub iure positivo. Si clauduntur sub iure divino, non est obediendum pape si mandaret aliquid contra illa, puta si preciperet quod creatura aliqua honore latrie adoraretur vel quod nomen dei invanum assumeretur, aut quod tempus deditum ad cultum dei sibi subtraheretur; sibi non esset obediendum, immo fortiter resistendum. Si autem clauduntur sub iure naturali et papa mandaret aliquid contra illa fieri, ut fornicari, furari vel innocentem occidere vel quod homo non commederet, similitur in talibus sibi obediendum non est. Sed si illa que precipit clauduntur sub iure positivo, cum omne ius positivum ab ipso dependet, vel per immediatam editionem ut ius canonicum, vel per confirmationem et approbationem, ut ius civile, tunc sicut eius et omnia precepta iuris positivi condere et confirmare seu interpretari, ita eius est omnia tollere in toto orbe, vel in parte. Unde in talibus si aliquid mandat contra ipsa, vel aliter interpretaretur quam scripta sint, sibi obediendum est.” Aug.Anc., Summa, q. 22, art. 1, resp. (ed.Cologne, 1475), fol. 101v -​102r (202–​203).

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obeyed. Yet if the pope were to command something in violation of divine or natural law, while he still could not be judged by his subjects, by falling into infidelity he would by that very fact judge himself.115 Augustinus continued by posing the question as to whether the clergy and the laity are to obey the pope in the same way. In responding to this question, Augustinus returned to the distinction between the power of order and the power of jurisdiction, and that between the immediate and intermediate spheres of rulership (principatus). Although the pope has universal jurisdiction, temporal rulership was introduced to govern corporal goods. The pope has immediate rulership over the clergy based both on the power of order and the power of jurisdiction, whereas the pope has immediate jurisdiction over lay rulership by means of his power of jurisdiction alone, since by definition a lay person as such is not ordained. The jurisdiction of the pope with respect to temporal goods is not a jurisdiction that the pope exercises immediately, even though he has ultimate jurisdiction. Thus whereas the clergy have a universal and immediate obligation to obey the pope based on both the power of order and the power of jurisdiction, lay rulership and obedience is the intermediate and most direct level of obedience of the laity, whereby, as seen above, temporal power is to serve spiritual power (in ministerium). In other words, Augustinus argued that the pope was the immediate and direct “overlord” of the clergy, but lay rulers were the immediate “overlord” of the laity in terms of execution of such rulership, even as the pope retained the primary jurisdiction over both the temporal and spiritual realms. Thus the obedience due to the pope was direct for the clergy, but indirect for the laity, whereby the lay, temporal power served as the intermediary authority between ecclesiastical power and lay power.116 115 “Ad secundum est dicendum quod subditus non debet iudicare vel discernere an debeat obedire pape, si precipiat illa que sunt secundum deum et secundum illa que consueta sunt observari in religione christiana consona iuri divino et iuri naturali, sed si notabiliter preciperentur inconsueta et dissona a preceptis dei et preceptis legis nature cum papa sic precipiendo esset in infidelis, seipsum iudicaret, quia qui non recte credit, iam iudicatus est.” Aug.Anc., Summa, q. 22, art. 1, ad 2 (ed.Cologne, 1475), fol. 102r (203). 116 “Dicendum quod si comparetur obedientia laicorum et clericorum ad papam, obedientia clericorum intelligitur esse principalior, universalior, et immediatior. Principalior quidem est quia principatus pape et omnis principatus ecclesiasticus est principaliter propter bonum spirituale. per redundantiam autem ex consequenti habet esse circa corporalia quia vicarius illius existit qui dixit Math. vii primum querite regnum dei et hec omnia adiicientur vobis. Principatus vero laicorum vel secularium principaliter est introductus propter bona corporalia et ideo clerici principalius intelliguntur subiici principatui ecclesiastico quam seculares laici. Universaliter vero quia papa preest clericis potestate ordinis et potestate iurisdictionis quia utraque potestas derivatur ab eo in clericos, sed laicis

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There were, however, four cases when such intermediary authority was rendered null and void, in which then the pope did indeed have direct exercise of immediate authority and power, and thus, of immediate obedience owed. The first such case is when a prince or king has granted to the Church temporal goods, either for use, while the prince retains ownership (dominium), or outright.117 The second is when a particular deal or negotiation is especially difficult and ambiguous, in which case the pope has direct authority.118 Third, the pope has direct jurisdiction and authority when a prince or king commits offenses, deviates from the faith, or falls into heresy.119 And the fourth is when a prince or judge makes a wrong decision in determining a case, for it is the pope’s responsibility to correct errors and set them right.120 These then are the instances where the pope has direct authority and jurisdiction in temporal, secular affairs. In all other cases, the prince or king has direct authority and jurisdiction, though does so as conferred by the pope, in service to the pope’s primary authority and jurisdiction. These four cases applied implicitly to the issues between Pope John xxii and Louis of Bavaria, which Augustinus surely understood. The disputed election of 1314 between Louis and Frederick of Austria was certainly a difficult and ambiguous case, falling then to the pope for resolution. Moreover, Louis was supporting and defending the Lombard cities John had placed under the ban, in contradiction of the fourth case. The other two are more ambiguous, though John could well have made cases for both in terms of his right to directly have jurisdiction in imperial affairs. Yet Louis was not recognizing John’s authority, and was able to do so with the support of the German princes and, at first, from

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non preest nisi potestate iurisdictionis, quia eoipso quod laici sunt ad potestatem ordinis recipiendam idoneitatem non habent. Similiter est obedientia clericorum immediatior et quia licet potestas pape se extendat ad clericos et laicos per immediatem iurisdictionem, non tamen se extendit ad ipsos laicos per immediatam executionem, sed regimen ipsorum laicorum exequitur papa mediantibus principibus et iudicibus secularibus …” Aug. Anc., Summa, q. 22, art. 2, resp. (ed.Cologne, 1475), fol. 102r-​v (203–​204). “Primus est quando aliquid temporale conceditur eccclesie a principe vel rege vel tunc solum concedit usum, dominium sibi retinendo, vel concedit utrunque et tunc ecclesia dominium iusiticie exercet per laicas non ecclesiasticas personas …” Aug.Anc., Summa, q. 22, art. 2 resp. (ed. Cologne, 1475) fol. 102v (204). “Secundus est quando occurrit aliquod negocium difficile et ambiguum, tunc est immediate ad papam recurrendum.” Ibid. “Tercius est ratione delicti seculari principis, ut princeps secularis inveniatur hereticus et a fide deviare.” Ibid. Quartus si inveniatur defectus in iudicio dato a seculari principe vel iudice, quia papa habet potestatem secularem rectificare et corrigere si bona non est …” Ibid.

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the northern Italians. The question then became one of the required obedience of Louis’s subjects, a question that Augustinus addressed explicitly. Article 3 of Question 22 of the Summa turned then to the question of whether subjects should obey the pope or the emperor if there was conflict. It would seem, Augustinus began, that subjects should obey their immediate overlord or superior, and since the most direct overlord is the emperor, they should obey the emperor before obeying the pope.121 Moreover, justice requires that subjects obey the one who has given them their laws, and since the emperor is the direct lord of his subjects and gives them the law, the emperor’s subjects are required to obey him in order to be just.122 However, Augustinus replied, “the entire world structure, or machine (machina), is a single principality, or rather, it ought to be a single principality, and therefore there should be only one universal prince.” The prince of the one world principality is Christ, whose vicar is the pope.123 James of Viterbo had argued for the pope as the head of the Christian government, whereby Christendom was a single kingdom (regnum). Augustinus in some ways took this a step further, though the concept is there in James as well as in Giles. The entire world “machine” is governed by a single principality and thus by a single prince, namely, Christ. Augustinus gave Christ’s governing “mechanical” connotations, whereby the entire world was one “thing,” one entity, with one structure and design, constructed according to one plan, whereby it would simply not “work” if that structure was defective or was deviated from. This, for Augustinus, was the divine order, and it was the divine order that was the basis for justice, all justice. The parts of the “machine”

121 “Videtur enim quod pape laici christiani non teneantur magis obedire quam imperatori vel regi, quia dato quod archiepiscopus sit maior episcopo et episcopus maior abbate, magis tamen tenetur subditus obedire episcopo quam archiepiscopo et monachus magis tenetur obedire abbati quam episcopo. A simili egro dato quod papa sit maior imperatore vel rege, magis tenentur laici subditi obedire imperatori vel regi quam pape.” Aug.Anc., Summa, q. 22, art. 3, arg. 1 (ed. Cologne, 1475), fol. 102v-​103r (204–​205). 122 “Preterea unicuique est obediendum secundum leges receptas ab ipso; sed omnes qui subduntur sub imperio recipiunt leges ab imperatore; ergo omnes tenentur sibi parere secundum tales leges. Preterea debitum iusticie quod reddatur unicuique quod suum est, iuxta illud Apostoli ad Ro. xiii. Reddite omnibus debita, cui tributum tributum, cui vectigal, vectigal, sed imperator est dominus temporalium; ergo debitum iusticie est quod laici obediant ei in temporalibus magis quam pape.” Aug.Anc., Summa, q. 22, art. 3, arg. 2–​3 (ed. Cologne, 1475), fol. 102v-​103r (204–​205). 123 “Dicendum quod tota machina mundialis non est nisi unus principatus scilicet quia non debet esse nisi unus principatus. Ideo non debet esse nisi unus universalis princeps … Ideo unus princeps et unus principatus; princeps autem totius principatus mundi est ipse Christus, cuius papa vicarius existit.” Aug.Anc., Summa, q. 22, art. 3, resp. (ed. Cologne, 1475), fol. 103r (205).

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were many, but all had their place and their function within the whole of the “machine” itself. The driving force of that machine was Christ, but in this world, Christ governed by means of his vicar, the pope. Thus the pope was the one running the machine, and was responsible for all the parts doing their jobs, performing their proper functions. When they did so, the machine ran smoothly. When they did not do so, the machine “broke down” and had to be “fixed.” Thus the pope could in certain cases assume direct authority and jurisdiction when he would normally have only indirect authority and jurisdiction. Here too, with respect to obedience owed, subjects were to give their primary and principle obedience to the pope, though when the machine was operating as designed, they gave their obedience to their immediate lords, even as the pope remains the source and origin of all power.124 Everyone, laity and clergy alike, is subject to the pope by divine law, and if there is a discrepancy between what a king or emperor commands, and what the pope commands, subjects are required to obey the pope rather than their king or emperor. And if a king or emperor rules with injustice, the pope can deprive him of his rulership, and his subjects from their obedience to him.125 Augustinus’s image of the “world machine” operated by Christ via his vicar the pope, helps us grasp Augustinus’s overall conception of the Church, which consists of the clergy and the laity, the faithful and the infidel. Only the pope can properly operate the machine, though kings, princes, and emperors have 124 “Ubicunque autem est fons et origo ad quem omnia reducuntur in talibus per preceptum inferioris, non tolllitur obedientia superioris … Si aliquid mandat procurator et aliud proconsul, obediendum est proconsuli non procuratori. Et si aliquid mandat proconsul et aliud imperator, obediendum est imperatori et non proconsuli. Eodem modo si aliud mandat papa et aliud imperator, obediendum est pape et non imperatori. Verum quia iusticia per fidem christi est confirmata non extirpata dicente apostolo Rom. iii Iusticia dei per fidem est Iesu Christi cum omnis principatus procedat ex ordinatione divine iusticie iuxta illud ad Ro. xiii. Omnis potestas est a deo et que a deo sunt ordinata sunt, ideo sicut papa debet esse omnis iusticie observator et omnium principatuum institutor et ordinator, sine quibus iusticia minime servari posset, sic debet omnem debitam subiectionem et obedientiam subditorum ad principes et reges seculi manutenere et gubernare non tollere vel subtrahere.” Ibid. 125 “Ad secundum est dicendum quod … Quicunque legibus imperatorum que pro dei veritate feruntur, obtemperare vult, acquirit magnum premium. Quicunque legibus imperatorum que contra dei veritatem feruntur, obtemperare voluerit, acquirit magnum damnum. Si ergo imperator mandat aliquid contra precepta pape et contra libertatem ecclesie, sibi obtemperandum non est. Ad tercium est dicendum quod principibus seculi obedientia non est subtrahenda nisi seipsos reddant indignos et nisi principatum iniuste administrent quia tunc non solum subditorum subiectione verum etiam principandi iurisdictione per papam privari possunt.” Aug.Anc. Summa, q. 22, art. 3, ad 2 et 3 Aug.Anc., Summa, q. 22, art. 3, arg. 2–​3 (ed. Cologne, 1475), fol. 103r-​v (205–​206).

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their essential functions. In this light, Augustinus’s Summa is a direct counter to Marsilius of Padua’s Defensor Pacis, which argued that the clergy are necessary to living well, but are so as a function of the state.126 While Augustinus never cited Marsilius, the parallels are clear and surely would not have been lost on the audience in the early fourteenth century. Augustinus accepted, at least to an extent, anticlericalism, and even anti-​papalism, but such critiques, when valid, are valid with respect to the individual persons, and not with respect to the offices themselves. Certainly, there could be bad priests and bad popes, just as in our own day, and just as there can be, and are, bad Senators and bad Presidents, though the office, the structure, remains. Augustinus focused on the structure, on the office, and as such, the papacy, as an institution, and as one part of the “trinitarian pope,” was at the pinnacle of the hierarchy of Christian perfection. For Augustinus, that hierarchy was based on love. In Question 101 of his Summa, Augustinus asserted, citing Augustine, that “the more fervently God is loved, the more perfection of the one loving is evident.”127 In this light, the pope has the greatest love for God, or rather, the greatest love is required of the pope intensively, extensively, and consistently,128 and therefore the pope exists in the most perfect state of Christian perfection. Yet here too, Augustinus focused on the office of the papacy and the “trinitarian pope,” for he asserts the level of love that is required of the pope, and does not, as such, assert that that level is what every pope, or any pope, actually has. This distinction between the office and the person, or between the state of perfection and individual perfection, Augustinus directly addressed in the third article of Question 101. “It would seem,” Augustinus began,” that the pope cannot be in the state of perfection without that which is perfect.”129 Moreover, the perfection of love makes a man perfect, but perfect charity is serving all for Christ, as Paul asserted in 1 Corinthians 9:19. The pope, in accepting the care of the universal Church thus serves all and therefore has individual perfection as

1 26 Saak, High Way to Heaven, 68–​128; Saak, Luther, 305–​333. 127 “Dicendum quod sicut dicit Augustinus ad comitem Bonifacium, quanto ardentius deus amatur, tanto maior perfectio amantis demonstratur.” Aug.Anc., Summa, q. 101, art. 1, resp. (ed. Cologne, 1475), fol. 339r (677). 128 “Tanto ergo status pefectio maior censetur in papa quam in quocunque alio episcopo, quanto eius status maiorem et perfectiorem charitatem requirit quam status cuiuscunque episcopi vel pastoris. Et possumus dicere quod status pape maiorem charitatem requirit, intensive, extensive, permansive.” Ibid. 129 “Videtur enim quod papa non possit esse in perfectionis statu absque eo quod sit perfectus.” Aug.Anc., Summa, q. 101, art. 3,arg. 1 (ed. Cologne, 1475), fol. 340v (680).

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well as being in the state of perfection.130 Yet such positions equate the state of perfection with individual perfection, and the pope, “as a pure viator, not yet confirmed in grace,” can certainly lose the charity that is required for perfection, and no human being can, in any case, as such be perfect. Therefore, the pope is able to exist within the state of perfection, even though he himself is not perfect.131 In responding to the issue, Augustinus claimed that there are three primary differences between the state of perfection and individual perfection. First, the perpetual obligation of a vow makes for the state of perfection, whereas the execution and fulfillment of a vow makes for individual perfection. Second, the abdication of temporal possessions and works of supererogation make for the state of perfection, but the exceeding love for God and neighbor make for individual perfection. Third, in any vocation to which one is called, one can be perfect, but not every vocation is a state of perfection to which one vows.132 In short, being perfect is distinct from being in the state of perfection, whereby the latter is with respect to the office and the former is with respect to the person. Thus the pope, as the embodiment of the papacy, is in a state of the 130 “Preterea perfectum hominem facit perfectio charitatis; sed ad perfectam charitatem spectat quod quis existens liber se servum omnium faciat propter Christum, 1 Corinth. ix: Cum essem liber ex omnibus omnium me servum fecit [1 Cor. 9:19]. Sed hoc facit quilibet papa curam universalis ecclesie suscipiendo.” Aug.Anc., Summa, q. 101, art. 3, arg. 2 . (ed. Cologne, 1475), fol. 340v (680). 131 “In contrarium est quia nullus est perfectus nisi per charitatem que est vinculum perfectionis; sed papa potest perdere caritatem cum sit purus viator nondum confirmatus in gratia; ergo potest esse in perfectionis statu et tamen non est perfectus.” Aug.Anc., Summa, q. 101, art. 3, contra (ed. Cologne, 1475), fol. 340v (680). 132 “Dicendum quod differt esse in perfectionis statu et esse perfectum quantum ad presens in tribus. Primo quia perfectionis statum facit voti perpetua obligatio, pefectum vero facit voti impletio et executio. Secundo quia ad perfectionis statum facit temporalium abdicatio et exercitatio eorum que sunt supererogationis opera per hec enim quis constituitur in perfectionis statu, iuxta illud quod salvator dixit Math. x. Si vis perfectus esse, vade et vende omnia que habes et da pauperibus et veni sequere me [Mt. 19:21]; perfectum vero essentialiter facit solum dei et proximi superexcedens dilectio. Nam ille scriba planum est quod voluit sequi christum, Math. viii, Magister sequar te quocunque eris, perfectionem tamen non meruit obtinere, quia non ex dilectione sed temporalis lucri acquisitione christum sequi cupiebat ut Hieron. dicit. Tertio quia perfectus quis potest esse in omni vocatione in qua vocatus est, sed non in omni vocatione homo potest esse in perfectionis statu. Contingit enim aliquos in omni vocationi perfectionis opera facere et sic perfectio esse non tamen voventes et sic non esse in perfectionis statu; alios vero contingit totam vitam suam voto se obligantes ad perfectionis opera et sic esse in perfectionis statu, que si non implent que voverunt, constat eos perfectos non esse. Potest ergo papa non esse perfectus non obstante quod ipse sit in summo perfectionis statu.” Aug.Anc., Summa, q. 101, art. 3, resp. Aug.Anc., Summa, q. 101, art. 3, contra (ed. Cologne, 1475), fol. 340v (680).

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highest level of Christian perfection possible, even if the individual pope, as a human being, is far from perfect, and does not fulfill his vows and obligations. Thus the ambiguities of the trinitarian pope, for Augustinus, whereby a pope can be simultaneously perfect and a sinner, can be simultaneously infallible and fallible, can be simultaneously the vicar of Christ and a “bad pope,” though a “bad pope” cannot be a heretical pope, and indeed there can be no such thing as a heretical pope, for a heretic by that very fact would no longer be pope, even as the papacy would remain. And the basis for the perfection of the papacy was love, even if the individual pope did not exhibit and practice the love required of the status and office. Love was the “engine” that worked the “machine” of creation. It was an ontological hierarchy, or order, based on perfection as love, whereby the pope was the pinnacle, the “engine” itself, the source and font of all that was that allowed for the “machine” to function. And this held true even if the individuals holding the office of pope were themselves, individually, far from perfect. Donatism had to be opposed. It was the office that made everything efficacious, and that made everything work, ex opere operato, even if things did not always work all that well ex opera operantis. This was the Augustinian position. And this was Augustinus’s position, as he sought to explicate the perfection of the pope, the “trinitarian” pope, as the essential structure for society. Yet within the structure, within the architecture, Augustinus gave his own order, the Augustinian Hermits, a unique position, and did so based as well on Christian perfection. It was the position that was in direct opposition to the Franciscan position as advocated by Louis of Bavaria and the Order of Friars Minor themselves. In short, for Augustinus, the Franciscans and the Franciscan way of life, or the Franciscan “religion,” was not the highest form of Christian perfection. 4.2.2 The Religio Augustini In question 105, Augustinus dealt with the issue of the extent to which the mendicant orders represent apostolic perfection. The question consisted of nine articles: 1. Whether mendicants are in a state of greater perfection than others; 2. Whether mendicants, given their state of perfection, are able to be masters at universities; 3. Whether mendicants are able to be students at universities; 4. Whether more than one master in a given mendicant order detracts from the order’s state of perfection; 5. Whether mendicants, given their state of perfection, are able to be the executors of wills;

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6.

Whether mendicants, given their state of perfection, are able to serve as confessors to kings and queens; 7. Whether mendicants can serve as officials of secular princes; 8. Whether mendicants can be involved in secular affairs; and 9. Whether mendicants can receive larger gifts of alms than other beggars.133 In this question, and its articles, Augustinus explored the extent to which mendicants could be involved in the world in various capacities without losing the perfection of their status. He answered in the affirmative in each of the questions posed in his articles, with the except of article 4, whereby multiple masters in a given mendicant order does not detract from the order’s state of perfection. The mendicants were indeed religious existing in a higher state of Christian perfection than were other religious or ecclesiastics. The question he did not pose, though, was whether mendicants could serve as bishops, archbishops, or cardinals. Augustinus’s own confrere, Giles of Rome, had been the Archbishop of Bourges. It is, in some ways, a glaring omission. Yet perhaps Augustinus felt it was covered in the other questions posed in his articles. We cannot, though, make an argument from silence, and Augustinus’s not having addressed the issue remains a curiosity at the least, especially since his view of the Augustinian Hermits was based on the propriety of mendicant hermits serving as bishops. In Question 105, Augustinus dealt with the mendicants as such, without distinguishing between the orders. The Franciscans, Dominicans, Augustinian Hermits, and Carmelites were a distinct and separate state within the ecclesiastical hierarchy of Christian perfection. Yet when Augustinus had treated the monks in the early Church in Question 97, detailing the extent to which the early Church observed apostolic perfection, rather than the extent to which the various states and orders within the contemporary Church represented

133 “Deinde videndum est quomodo status religiosi mendicantes sint in perfectioni statu quam alii, circa quod queruntur novem: Primo utrum religiosi mendicantes sint in perfectiori statu quam alii; Secundo utrum religiosi mendicantes cum perfectionis statu possint esse de collegio et numero magistrorum; Tertio utrum religiosi mendicantes cum perfectionis statu possint esse de collegio et numero studentium secularium; Quarto utrum plures magistros esse in uno religionis collegio deroget eorum perfectionis statui; Quinto utrum religiosi mendicantes cum perfectionis statu possint esse testamentorum executores; Sexto utrum religiosi mendicantes cum perfectionis statu possint esse regum et reginarum confessores; Septimo utrum religiosi mendicantes cum perfectionis statu possint esse secularium principum officiales; Octavo utrum religiosi mendicantes cum perfectionis statu possint de negotiis secularibus se intromittere; Nono utrum religiosi mendicantes cum perfectionis statu eorum possint largiores elimosinas recipere quam alii mendicantes.” Aug.Anc. Summa, q. 105, art. 1 (ed.Cologne, 1475), fol. 354r (707).

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apostolic perfection, Augustinus showed his hand with respect to the most perfect form of Christian life, which was represented not in the status of the mendicants as such, but in one particular mendicant order, the Order of St. Augustine. Question 97 of the Summa deals with the extent to which apostolic perfection was observed by monastics working with their hands in the early Church.134 Augustinus dealt with the question in six articles, the first three of which concerned the relationship between the work of monks, their state of perfection, and the ownership of the fruits of their work. Here Augustinus asserted that the work of monks does not, as such, contribute to acquiring the state of perfection, but it does to the maintenance of such as state. It is the monastic vows themselves, namely, the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, that make for the state of perfection of monastics.135 Yet the Abbot can make dispensations to allow for the use of temporal goods for an individual monk, even when the ownership of those goods remain that which is renounced. Thus the Abbot can allow individual friars to use books for their benefit.136 In article 4, then, Augustinus turned to the relative state of perfection of monks living in society, and those leading the solitary life. While it might seem that monks living in society live the more perfect life than do monks living in solitude, since monks in society do so based on the vow of obedience; on being less exposed to spiritual danger; and because Christ lived a social life,137 134 “Nunc videndum est quomodo apostolorum perfectio observata est in monachis manibus laborantibus.” Aug.Anc., Summa, q. 97, pref. (ed. Cologne, 1475), fol. 324v (648). 135 “Respondendo dicendum quod laborem manuum facere ad perfectionis statum in monachis vel in quibuscunque aliis religionis potest intelligi dupliciter: vel ad status perfectionis consecutionem vel ad ipsius perfectionis status conservationem. Primo modo planum est quod status perfectionis vite apostolice non acquiritur nisi per tria vota superius nominata, quia per illa fit mutatio status de libertate in perpetuam Christi servitutem in his que sunt supererogationis opera … Sed secundo modo planum est quod facti ad perfectionis status consecutionem.” Aug.Anc. Summa, q. 97, art. 1, resp. (ed. Cologne, 1475), fol. 324v (648). 136 “Ad primum est dicendum quod aliud est habere rei proprietatem et dominationem et aliud habere usum et dispensationem vel administrationem. Monacho ergo prohibetur habere proprium primo modo … Sed secundo modo abbas potest concedere monacho usum librorum et aliarum rerum secundum quem modum intelligitur dictum beati Benedicti.” Aug.Anc., Summa, q. 97, art. 3, ad 1 (ed. Cologne, 1475), fol. 326r (651). 137 “Videtur enim quod monachi viventes in societate fuerint in perfectiori statu quam solitarii. Status enim perfectio consistit potissime in voto obedientie. Sed monachi solitarii non vivunt sub obedientia alicuius. Tales enim anagorice dicebantur qui divisim in desertis habitabant ut Hieronimus dicit. Alii autem qui in societate vivebant cenobite appellabantur. Preterea status est imperfectus quando periculis est expositus. Sed status solitudinis est periculis tentationum expositus. Dicit enim Glossa Genesis tercio quod diabolus observavit horam qua mulierem solitariam inveniret, quia cum viro existente

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Augustinus argued that the solitary life was the more perfect life, distinguishing here between the contemplative life (vita contemplativa) and the active life (vita activa), which he equated with the solitary and social lives respectively.138 What is at issue here is the distinction between cenobitic monasticism (life in community) and ancharitic monasticism (the solitary life of hermits). With the mendicants, or at least with the Augustinian Hermits, these terms were redefined, whereby, according to Jordan of Quedlinburg, Augustine had lived an ancharitic life, but one in a cenobitic community, namely, the life of a hermit within a community. Moreover, the mendicants in general, and the Augustinian Hermits in specific, were directed to minister to the cities, which would seem to be the social life, or life in society. Jordan, though, redefined the distinction between the vita contemplativa and the vita activa, based on the distinction between the soul and the body, whereby all that pertained to the soul, including preaching and teaching, was part of the contemplative life.139 Yet here already in Augustinus’ Summa we find the beginnings, if not the origins, or Jordan’s redefinition, whereby Augustinus elevated the contemplative life, equated with the solitary life, over the active life, and then continued in Article 5 to discuss whether that rule that is most difficult is the most perfect, where too we find the exaltation of the Rule of St. Augustine. In Article 5, Augustinus explored the question of the extent to which the stricter, or more arduous, monastic life was the more perfect life, and took as his point of departure that it was.140 Thus a monk was allowed to transfer from a less perfect, to a more perfect Order based on the perfection of the Order’s rule.141 It is permitted to transfer from the Rule of St. Augustine to the Rule non fuisset ausus eam tentare … Preterea status perfectio completur ex societate Christi cum homine. Sed scribitur Math. xviii. Ubi fuerint duo vel tres congregati in nomine meo, ibi sum in medio eorum. [Mt. 18:20]. Maioris ergo perfectionis est monachorum vita socialis quam solitaria.” Aug.Anc., Summa, q. 97, art. 4, arg. 1–​3 (ed. Cologne, 1475), fol. 326r (651). 138 “Quanto ergo status perfectorum excedit statum perficiendorum tanto solitari vita monachorum excedit vitam monachorum viventium in societate. Si vero loquamur de perfectionis opere hoc idem patet. Opus enim solitarie vite est contemplatio. Socialis vero est actio.” Aug.Anc., Summa, q. 97, art. 4, resp. (ed. Cologne, 1475), fol. 326v (652). It should be noted here that Augustinus referred to the vita contemplativa as the vita solitaria. Petrarch would compose his own work De vita solitaria; see Chapter 1 above. 139 Saak, High Way to Heaven. 140 “Videtur enim quod monachorum vita quanto sit artior tanto fuerit perfectior.” Aug.Anc., Summa, q. 97, art. 5, arg. 1 (ed. Cologne, 1475), fol. 327r (653). 141 “Preterea non indulgetur transitus nisi de imperfecto ad perfectum; sed conceditur omnibus iure communi ut ad artiorem regulam possint transvolare … licet ergo quanto monachorum regula et vita est artior, tanto perfectior.” Aug.Anc., Summa, q. 97, art. 5, arg. 2 (ed. Cologne, 1475), fol. 327r (653).

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of St. Benedict, since the latter is more strict and therefore more perfect.142 However, perfection is not as such to be equated with strictness or difficulty of life, but with the abdication of temporal possessions. Thus, the religion of the mendicant orders is more perfect than is the religion of the monks, even if it is not more arduous.143 To determine the question, Augustinus argued that the assumption that the more strict or arduous life is the more perfect life is wrong. He did so in three points. First, the religion of John the Baptist is clearly the most difficult religion, or way of life, for John wore camel skins and ate locusts and honey. Yet the way of life, or religion, of Jesus was certainly more perfect than that of John, even if it was not more arduous, for Jesus was said to have come eating and drinking.144 Second, the perfection of the apostles and primitive Church was based on the abdication of temporal goods, placing all at the feet of the apostles. Yet in time such apostolic poverty was relaxed to allow for common possession. Yet those monastic lives that had property in common lived a stricter life than did the apostles and the primitive Church. Thus, even the monks in the primitive Church who held temporal goods reserved in common lived a stricter life than the apostles, but not a more perfect life. The apostolic teaching of apostolic poverty was the basis for Christian perfection, not the rigors of how one lived.145 Augustinus then turned to the contemporary Church. 142 “Preterea profitentibus regulam beati Augustini conceditur licentia transvolandi ad regulam beati Benedicti tanquam artiorem. Ergo tanquam ad perfectiorem quia propter frugem sanctioris et perfectioris vite talis licentia indulgetur.” Aug.Anc., Summa, q. 97, art. 5, arg. 3 (ed. Cologne, 1475), fol. 327r (653). 143 “In contrarium est quia perfectio humane vite consistit in abdicatione temporalium propter Christum; sed hec perfectio magis viget in religiosis mendicantibus quam monachis; ergo illorum religio est perfectior quamvis sive minus arta.” Aug.Anc., Summa, q. 97, art. 5, cont. (ed. Cologne, 1475), fol. 327r (653). 144 “Nulli nanque christiano debet venire in dubium quod ulla regula vel religio artior esse potest religione Johannis Baptiste de quo scribitur Mat. iii. quod vestimentum eius erat de pilis camelorum; esca autem eius locuste et mel silvestre. Super quo verbo dicit Hieronimus quod mirum erat in humano corpore tantam asperitatem vite conspicere. Nec quod aliqua religio fuit perfectior religione Christi. Unde Math. xi dixit: Venit Johannes baptista non manducans nec bibens et dixistis quia demonium habet; venit filius hominis manducans et bibens et dixistis: Ecce homo vorax et potator vini et iustificata est sapientia a filiis suis [Mt. 11:18–​19], super quo verbo dicit Augustinus quod sancti apostoli intellexerunt regnum dei non esse in esca et potu sed in equanimitate tolerandi quos nec copia sublevat nec deprimat egestas. Religio ergo Christi fuit minus arta et maioris perfectionis.” Aug.Anc., Summa, q. 97, art. 5, resp. (ed. Cologne, 1475), fol. 327r (653). 145 “Secundo hoc patet per apostolorum documentum. Tanta enim fuit perfectio vite apostolice et ecclesie primitive ut cunctis possessionibus abdicatis omnia haberent in communi et precia possessionum ad pedes apostolorum ponebantur. A qua perfectione defecerunt posteriores quia possessione in communi reservabant. Expresse enim dicit Augustinus

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Here, Augustinus asserted, it is commonly held that the religion of bishops is the most perfect life of Christian perfection, more perfect than that of monks or any others. Yet bishops do not live a stricter or more arduous life than do monks, whereby the principle that the life that is more arduous is the more perfect is wrong, for the more perfect can be less strict.146 Consequently, just as no way of life (regula) is able to be more perfect than the way of life (regula) of the apostles, so no monastic rule (regula) is able to be more perfect than the Rule of St. Augustine, which is simply the teachings of the apostles, and therefore one is allowed to transfer from the Rule of St. Augustine to the Rule of St. Benedict not because the Benedictine life is the more perfect life, since no way of life in the contemporary Church is more perfect than the Augustinian way of life, but because the Benedictine life is more strict, functioning as an instrumental means to an end, the achieving a life of Christian perfection.147 Rhetorically Augustinus did a couple of things here that are of major importance. First, he equated life (vita), religion (religio), and rule (regula). He spoke of the “religion” of John the Baptist, of Christ, and of the apostles, and of the “religion” of bishops, and then asserted the stricter life (vita) is not to be equated with the more perfect life (vita). Second, he then asserted that the Rule of St. Augustine (regula) was simply the teaching of the apostles (documentum tercio de doctrina christiana nullas ecclesias gentium fecisse quod tempore apostolorum factum est et tamen monasteria ex gentibus conversis congregata possessiones in communi servantes artioris vite fuerunt quam religio apostolorum … Fuerunt ergo monachi in primitiva ecclesia artioris vite quam apostoli et minoris tamen perfectionis cum per hoc quod possessiones in communi servabant Augustinus dicit eos a perfectione apostolorum defecisse.” Aug.Anc., Summa, q. 97, art. 5, resp. (ed. Cologne, 1475), fol. 327r-​v (653–​654). 146 “Tertio hoc declaratur per presentis ecclesie experimentum. Communiter enim tenet ecclesia religionem episcoporum perfectiorem esse omni alia religione tam monachorum quam aliorum. Et tamen experimentum docet quod quelibet religio artioris vite est quam religio episcoporum non ergo se concomitantur ista quod religio quanto artior tanto pefectior. Potest enim maior perfectio cum minori artitudine et maior artitudo cum minori perfectione.” Aug.Anc., Summa, q. 97, art. 5, resp. (ed. Cologne, 1475), fol. 327v (654). 1 47 “Ad tertium est dicendum quod sicut nulla regula potest esse perfectior regula apostolorum, sic nulla regula potest esse perfectior regula beati Augustini, que non aliud essentialiter continet quam apostolorum documenta. Profitentibus ergo regulam beati Augustini non conceditur licentia transvolandi ad regulam beati Benedicti tanquam ad perfectiorem simpliciter sed tanquam ad exercitatiorem et perfectiorem huic eo enim ipso quod artior est in esu carnium et in aliis observantiis potest esse instrumentaliter magis via exercitandi se ut perveniat ad perfectionis statum. Corporalis tamen exercitatioi non facit ad perfectionem simpliciter quia ad modicum utilis est. Pietas autem ad omnia valet habens promissionem vite que nunc est et future, i. Thymo. iiii [1 Tim. 4: 8].” Aug. Anc., Summa, q. 97, art. 5, ad tercium (ed. Cologne, 1475), fol. 327v (654).

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apostolorum). Technically speaking, religion (religio) was related to worship; it was that which bound one to God and the means by which one chose to fulfill one’s religious obligations to God, to neighbor, and to oneself.148 A “rule” (regula) was a monastic rule for how one should live and practice one’s religion, and life (vita), was how one lived as such. Augustinus here did not refer to the “religion of Augustine” (religio Augustini), as would his younger confrère, Jordan of Quedlinburg. Yet by asserting that the “religion of bishops” (religio Episcoporum) is the most perfect Christian life, and then combining this with his assertion that the Rule of St. Augustine (regula Augustini) was the most perfect Christian rule as being simply the teaching of the apostles, Augustinus equated the Rule of St. Augustine with the religion of bishops which comprised together the most perfect way of life (vita). Here, for the first time, Augustinus made the argument that the most perfect form of religious life, the most perfect religio, is that of Augustine. Augustine’s Rule, and consequently his Order, embodied the most perfect Christian life.149 Augustinus was coming dangerously close to the position he was attempting to refute, namely, that the Franciscan life was the most perfect Christian life. John xxii recognized the implicit challenge to his authority the Franciscan ideal posed and had, by 1323 in Cum inter nonnullos, proclaimed that ideal heretical.150 Was not Augustinus’ position as undermining of papal authority as the Franciscan? Not really. Though Augustinus asserted the regula Augustini as the most perfect form of Christian life, the religio Augustini was the most perfect life of a religious bishop.151 Regula and religio were distinct, with the former expressing and codifying, though not identical with, the latter. The Franciscan religion, the ideal behind the Rule, was absolute poverty. This John xxii could not support and claim primacy within the church. The religion behind the Rule of St. Augustine was the ideal of the holy bishop. This John could very well support and defend in asserting his own authority, and thereby give legitimacy and credence to Augustinus’s claims for his Order, without having to actually be a member of the oesa. The Franciscan position entailed that to exist on the level of the most perfect form of Christian life, one would have to follow the Franciscan religion and rule, or in other words, one would have to

1 48 See Saak, High Way to Heaven, 710–​722. 149 “Sicut nulla regula potest esse perfectior regula apostolorum, sic nulla regula potest esse perfectior regula beati Augustini, que non aliud essentialiter content quam apostolorum documenta.” Aug.Anc., Summa, q. 97, art. 5, ad trecium (ed. Cologne, 1475), fol. 327v (654). 150 See Brian Tierney, Origins of Papal Infallibility, 1150–​1350. A Study on the Concepts of Infallibility, Sovereignty and Tradition in the Middle Ages, shct 6 (Leiden, 1972). 151 Saak, High Way to Heaven, 142–​156.

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be a Franciscan. For Augustinus, Augustine’s religion (religio Augustini) was the most perfect form and for that, one did not, as such, have to follow Augustine’s Rule. By proclaiming the Augustinian Rule the most perfect form of religious life, Augustinus was making a case for the oesa as the embodiment of the highest form of Christian perfection over-​against the Franciscan position, and by proclaiming the religion of Augustine as the highest form, Augustinus allowed for a holy bishop, as Augustine had been, to live the highest form of Christian perfection, which would have been music to John’s ears. Augustinus’s argument, his ecclesiology of the episcopacy of Christ, intimately linked the status and authority of his own Order with that of the pope—​and vice versa. And John was most appreciative. He sent Augustinus one hundred gold florins, and announced an annual gift of ten gold ounces for Augustinus to continue to write books.152 What he may not have realized, however, is that in doing so, he was legitimizing and authorizing a greatly expanded Augustinian platform, far surpassing that of Giles of Rome. The consequences were to have lasting effect. 5

Ideology, Identity, and Impact

In concluding his study of Augustinus of Ancona and early fourteenth-​century political theory, Michael Wilks wrote: “Man repeatedly demonstrates his inability to survive without his myths, and the most potent of these is the myth of the state.”153 That may be. But to understand Augustinus, and indeed, to understand Augustinian theology in the later Middle Ages, we have to realize that from the late thirteenth to the early sixteenth centuries “the most potent” myth was the myth of the Church, and within that myth, for the Augustinians, “the most potent myth” was the “myth of Augustine.”154 Within Augustinus’ treatment of the papacy, we find both an exaltation of the papacy beyond anything previously expressed, as well as an attempt to circumscribe papal power. Augustinus’ discussion of the “Episcopacy of Christ” is most telling, and it was one that fitted very well indeed with an Order that had been founded by a bishop, even if that Order had not as yet, when Augustinus was composing his Summa, become fully cognizant of that fact. Yet Augustinus himself was indeed, and this became increasingly explicit when Augustinus discussed the most perfect form of religious life. 152 Archivio Vaticano, Regesti di Giovanni xxii, Reg. Vat. 113, f. 293v, Epistola 1720, as printed by Ministeri, De vita et operibus, 238. 153 Wilks, The Problem of Sovereignty, 524. 154 See Saak, Creating Augustine.

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The political impact of Augustine in the later Middle Ages, or at least the politicization of Augustine, was not confined to particular texts or doctrines of the Bishop of Hippo. It was conditioned by the political struggle for the saint’s identity. The question of who Augustine was became itself highly politicized. In many ways, answers to the question of Augustine’s identity, of Augustine’s interpretation, pitted armies of the pope against armies of the emperor, when we realize that to some extent, the conflict was based upon the interpretation of Augustine of Marsilius of Padua and that of Augustinus of Ancona. Marsilius has been called an “Augustinian,” though that is rather far-​fetched. Nevertheless, Marsilius presented himself as standing in the tradition of Augustine in supporting the supremacy of the emperor.155 Yet all the while, members of the oesa were portraying themselves not only as the genuine and rightful custodians of Augustine’s body in Pavia, but also as the saint’s embodiment as such. Augustine was the Order’s head, with its members falling in line; the Order was comprised of the “sons of Augustine,” the members of Augustine, just as Christians as such were seen as the members of Christ’s body and as the sons of God, with the pope as the head. In this context, Augustinus and the Augustinians were not only in conflict with Marsilius, the supporters of Louis, and the Augustinian Canons; they were also in a fierce debate over what ideal, over what religion, comprised the most perfect form of Christian life, which brought them head to head as well with the Franciscans. It is questionable whether the Augustinian Hermits would have crossed swords with the Franciscans had it not been for John xxii. There were indeed conflicts between the two Orders predating John, such as that in Quedlinburg in the later thirteenth century, when the Franciscans began physically tearing down a newly constructed Augustinian monastery. In this case, the Augustinians appealed to Boniface viii, and Boniface, who had already been supporting the oesa at least in part in return for the support he had received from Giles of Rome and James of Viterbo, supported the Augustinians’ cause.156 It is, however, only after John xxii’s conflict with the Franciscans over the issue of apostolic poverty and Christian perfection that the Augustinians started pulling out all stops. In the course of the 1330s, when Augustinian Hermits were reconstructing the biography of Augustine in context of the debate with the Canons, we also find Francis being subject to historical creative mythology. According to Augustinian authors, Francis had first either visited, or had become a member of, Augustine’s early eremitical community in Centumcellis 155 Johanna Scott, “Influence or Manipulation? The Role of Augustine in the Defensor Pacis of Marsiglio of Padua,” Augustinian Studies 9 (1978): 59–​70. 156 Saak, High Way to Heaven, 24–​28.

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before having founded his own Order.157 However, already in 1326 Augustinus provided a case for the primacy of the oesa in the hierarchy of Christian perfection to the exclusion of Francis. Once again, this was not simply a squabble between religious Orders. The Franciscan position on apostolic poverty and Christian perfection was upheld and assert both by Marsilius of Padua in his Defensor Pacis and by Louis of Bavaria in his Sachsenhausen Appeal. Augustinus surely had both in mind when he constructed his argument in the third part of his Summa that the religio Augustini was the most perfect form of religious life and Christian perfection. In other words, the fierce debates in the early fourteenth century over Augustine’s biography, heritage, and identity were conducted squarely within the context of the militant conflict between John xxii and Louis of Bavaria, dragging in as well the historical traditions of the Augustinian Canons and the Order of Friars Minor. Members of the oesa increasingly came to view and represent themselves as the only legitimate “sons of Augustine” and as such, as the embodiment of the Bishop of Hippo. In 1327, the oesa became the custodians of Augustine’s body in Pavia, thanks to the determination of John xxii in response to Augustinus’s Summa and William of Cremona’s arguments against Marsilius’s Defensor Pacis. From this point on, members of the oesa were reunited with their “leader, teacher, father, and head,” which gave them the legitimacy to claim that they and they alone embodied the heritage of the saint. The religio Augustini was supreme, and it was so precisely because, as Augustinus argued, it embodied the highest form of Christian perfection, which, being based on Augustine himself, included the bishops, of which the pope was the head. Augustinus’s “Episcopacy of Christ” goes hand in hand with the claims to primacy of the oesa and thereby, with the claims to primacy of the pope. Papal hierocratic theory was constructed on the basis of the religio-​politics of the oesa, which strove to assert against all opponents, actual or potential, the primacy of the religio Augustini. The ecclesiology of the “Episcopacy of Christ” was inherently an Augustinian creation, and it was, moreover, inherently political in defending the papacy and the sacerdotium against the claims of the emperor and the imperium. This was, moreover, an ecclesiology based not only upon an interpretation of the “historical” Augustine, but also one that served as the catalyst for a revival of Augustinian scholarship precisely in attempt to prove its case. John xxii, as had been Boniface viii before him, was very pleased with the support he received from the Augustinians, and from Augustinus of Ancona 157 Saak, High Way to Heaven, 214–​215.

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and William of Cremona in particular. As stated above, John supported Augustinus’ continued work financially, and for William, John granted his petition for the oesa to gain custody of Augustine’s tomb in Pavia. In his bull, Veneranda sanctorum, John referred to Augustine as the oesa’s father, leader, teacher, and head, and stipulated that from that time forth, the oesa would share ecclesiastical privileges, prerogatives, benefits, and duties with the Augustinian Canons in San Pietro in Ciel d’Oro.158 John’s Veneranda sanctorum can lay historical claims to have been the real foundation of the oesa since it was only with John xxii and his support for the Augustinians that the Order’s official title became solidified.159 John’s support for the Augustinians set off a controversy between the Augustinian Canons and the Augustinian Hermits over which was the genuine Order of St. Augustine, and thus was initiated the fierce politics and polemics over Augustine’s body, his image, and his identity that were to last for the duration of the Middle Ages. It was in this context, that members of the oesa sought to reconstruct a biography of Augustine to prove that he had first founded his Order of Hermits. To do so, authors such as the Anonymous Florentine, Nicolas of Alessandria, Henry of Friemar, and Jordan of Quedlinburg, returned to the sources for Augustine’s biography, and to the Confessiones and Retractationes in particular.160 Jordan, moreover, had a new source at his disposal, the Sermones ad fratres in eremo, which gave conclusive proof of the Hermits’ case.161 The Augustinians’ call ad fontes, however, was by no means limited to creations of a mythical past fashioned after their own image. After the newly constructed Augustine was essentially in place, the Order’s theologians, beginning with Gregory of Rimini and Alfonsus Vargas, initiated a scholarly, academic Augustinianism based on previously unparalleled knowledge of Augustine’s own works.162 This endeavor, however, had been prepared by what was perhaps the outstanding product of Augustine scholarship in the Middle Ages before the Amerbach edition of Augustine’s Opera Omnia in 1508: the Milleloquium Sancti Augustini. The Milleloquium consists of 1081 entries of authentic Augustine 158 Pope John xxiii, Veneranda Sanctorum, in Codex Diplomaticus Oridnis Eremitarum sancti Augustini Papiae, vol. 1. Ed. R. Maiocchi and N. Casacca (Pavia, 1905), 14–​15. 159 See Chapter 2 above. 160 Saak, High Way to Heaven, 187–​232. 161 Saak, “Ex vita patrum formatur vita fratrum: The Appropriation of the Desert Fathers in the Liber Vitasfratrum of Jordan of Quedlinburg, OESA (d. 1380),” Church History and Religious Culture 86 (2006): 191–​228; Saak, History and Myth I: Sermons of St. Augustine (forthcoming). 162 Saak,” The Reception of Augustine in the Later Middle Ages,” in Irena Backus, ed., The Reception of the Church Fathers in the West, 2 vols. (Leiden 1997), 367–​404.

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statements, organized alphabetically and thematically. It was completed by the Augustinian friar Bartholomew of Urbino by 1346, but the project may have been begun by Augustinus of Ancona.163 It was Augustinus, who had claimed that Augustine’s religion was the highest form of Christian perfection and who wrote his Summa for John xxii, who served as the catalyst for the renaissance of Augustine scholarship. He was also one of the earliest practitioners, appealing to the founder of his Order overwhelmingly as the authority for his Summa. The intense desire and need to return to the original works of Augustine, surpassing the florilegia and excerpts found in such standard works as Lombard’s Sentences and Gratian’s Decretum, stemmed from the appeal to Augustine as the founder of the oesa in the context of intense religio-​political conflict. The “Augustinian Renaissance” initiated by Gregory of Rimini and Alfonsus Vargas, was not a creation ex nihilo; it had been prepared and conditioned by the return to Augustine in the context of religio-​politics. While Gregory’s and/​or Alfonsus’ “Augustinianism” may have had little to do with politics as such, the academic Augustinianism upon which it was founded was thoroughly political. If it is valid to talk about a late medieval “Augustinian Renaissance,”164 it was a renaissance that had its origins in a political Augustinianism, forged in the political and military battles over Augustine’s heritage, interpretation, and body. Yet not all reception of Augustine in the later Middle Ages was predicated upon and/​or conditioned by the religio-​political Augustinianism of the oesa; one has only to think of Petrarch, or Bonaventure, or Henry of Ghent, or Thomas Bradwardine, or Richard Fitzralph, or John Wycliff. Though Petrarch himself had close ties with the oesa, for the others one must question whether they had their “Augustine” without an “Augustinianism.”165 Yet if we base our reference for the meaning of the term “Augustinian” upon a philosophical and/​or theological meaning, we so easily ignore the historical signification of the religio Augustini and overlook the fact that the religious “renaissance” of Augustine preceded that of the theological and/​or academic. Was Gregory of Rimini aware of the controversies over Augustine’s heritage of the 1320s and 1330s when he composed his commentary on Lombard’s Sentences in 1341, which has been seen as the initiation of the academic “Augustinian Renaissance”?166 Was Alphonsus Vargas, who read the Sentences in Paris directly 163 Saak, High Way to Heaven, 141, n. 372; Saak, “Augustinus of Ancona,” oghra 1:601–​603,cf. Sieben, “Bartholomew of Urbino,” oghra. 164 Saak, “The Augustinian Renaissance,” oghra 1:58–​68. 165 Trapp, “Harvest of Medieval Theology [Notes on Heiko A. Oberman’s book The Harvest of Medieval Theology], Augustinianum 5 (1965), 147–​151. 166 See Saak, High Way to Heaven, 683–​708.

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after Gregory? It is difficult to imagine that Gregory or Alphonsus turned to Augustine independently of the visceral attempts to refashion Augustine’s heritage of the preceding two decades. Moreover, in terms of the academic and/​or scholarly call ad fontes Augsutini, Augustinus of Ancona stands at the origins, even if his work was only later completed by Bartholomew of Urbino, contemporaneously with Gregory’s Sentences Commentary. As such, the origins of the “Augustinian Renaissance” of the later Middle Ages stem not from a theological campaign against the “modern Pelagians,” but from the religio-​political campaign of the Sons of Augustine in their fierce polemical debates with the Augustinian Canons and the Franciscans in context of the religio-​politics of the papal/​imperial conflict between John xxii and Louis of Bavaria. The religio-​politics—​a term that more fittingly and historically describes the religious and political interaction of the later Middle Ages than does the conflict between “Church and State”—​surrounding the heritage of Augustine became formally enunciated in the ecclesiology of Augustinus of Ancona, which can most historically be termed an ecclesiology of the “episcopacy of Christ.” This was the catalyst for the “Augustinian Renaissance,” which had an effect on the theological, political, religious, and cultural history of the later Middle Ages. In 1465 in Milan, controversy broke out over how Augustine should be portrayed on the cathedral being newly built, namely, in the habit of an Augustinian friar or that of an Augustinian Canon. This conflict ended up involving Pope Sixtus iv and Gian Galeazzo Visconti.167 In its larger context, the causa Augustiniana would include such figures as Jacob Wimpheling, Erasmus, and Martin Luther.168 Yet the origins of this debate on the eve of the Reformation are to be found some 140 years earlier in the conflict I have just been discussing, namely, the political, ideological, and military battles of Louis of Bavaria and John xxii, with the Augustinians squarely in the middle. The political Augustinianism of the 1320s and 1330s, though one having its origins at the turn of the century in Giles of Rome’s articulated platform for the Order, effected the renaissance of an academic Augustinianism of the 1340s and beyond. Augustinus of Ancona stands at the headwaters of the late medieval Augustinian Renaissance, which was predicated upon his ecclesiology of the episcopacy of Christ. Thus we need to rethink, reconsider, and reinterpret our portrayals of Augustine’s late medieval reception, as well as that of late medieval political thought. It was not the Franciscans or Dominicans 167 See Kaspar Elm, “Augustinus Canonicus-​Augustinus Eremita: A Quattrocento Cause Célèbre,” in Timothy Verdun and John Hunderson, eds.,Christianity and the Renaissance. Image and Religious Imagination in the Quattrocento (New York, 1990), 83–​107. 168 Saak, Creating Augustine, 172; Luther and the Reformation of the Later Middle Ages, 91S.

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who were the driving force of political theory in the later Middle Ages, but the Augustinians. In this light, “political Augustinianism” needs to be reconsidered as the primary avenue of Augustine’s late medieval reception, and as one of the foundational influences on the development of political thought in the West. And consequently, it is in the works of Giles of Rome, James of Viterbo, and Augustinus of Ancona that we find the emergence of an Augustinian ideology, an ideology that formed, shaped, and conditioned not only the “academic” Augustinianism of the later Middle Ages, but that of Augustinian theology as such.

pa rt 3 Augustinian Theology in the Studia

∵

Introduction The Augustinian ideology that was emerging in the early years of the fourteenth century with the works of Giles, James, and Augustinus, was just the beginning. Fused with this political platform was a pastoral theology that formed the basis for the Augustinians’ mendicant theology and for the creation of the Order’s religious identity. The primary context of this pastoral theology was the theology taught in the studia, the Order’s “second tier” level of education.1 The studia trained the preachers and teachers of the Order. Some lectors in the Order’s studia were masters of theology; others were simply lectors, who though were required to spend at least three years at university, studying in the Order’s stadium incorporated therein. The teaching in the Order’s non-​university studia was a combination of academic, scholastic theology, and pastoral theology. It was not “elementary.” Both at the universities and in the studia the Order’s theologians composed theological works to train the next generation of teachers and preachers. In other words, the theology of the studia represents the Order’s mendicant theology to a far greater degree than did the theological production of the Order’s theologians at the universities, thereby forming a central component of the Order’s identity. An essential component of that identity and theological endeavor was the work of three lectors at the Order’s studium in Erfurt during the course of the first four decades of the fourteenth century: Henry of Friemar, Hermann of Schildesche, and Jordan of Quedlinburg. Each contributed to the Order’s newly emerging created identity, while likewise composing works of pastoral theology that were to form the basis of the Order’s mendicant theology for the rest of the Middle Ages and beyond, and provided the foundation for the renaissance of Augustine scholarship evident in the works of the Augustinian magistri at the universities in the 1340s and thereafter. John of Basel, for example, whose Sentences commentary Damasus Trapp referred to as a “small encyclopedia of fourteenth-​century theology” and as the gateway to the Augustinian theology of the later Middle Ages, composed during John’s time lecturing on the Sentences in Paris (1368–​1369) and reaching its final form in 1372, cited these three lectors from Erfurt as of equal authority to the outstanding theologians of the period. So often classified as “mystical” or “spiritual” writers, Henry, Hermann and Jordan were far more than that. They provided the Order with the pastoral theology that combined with the political theology, established 1 For the oesa’s educational system, see Saak, High Way to Heaven, 253–​256, 368–​386.

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by the works of Giles, James, and Augustinus, to form two of the four pillars of what became late medieval Augustinianism. The third pillar was that of the Augustinians’ academic theology at the universities, to which we will turn in Part iv, followed by the fourth pillar, the Order’s moral theology, dealt with in Part v: table 4

Pillar i: Pillar ii: Pillar iii: Pillar iv:

The four pillars of late medieval augustinian theology

Augustinian Political Theology (Part ii) Augustinian Theology in the Studia (Part iii) Augustinian Theology in the Universities (Part iv) Augustinian Moral Theology (Part v)

The works of Henry, Hermann, and Jordan provided the foundation for the Order’s pastoral theology, but a pastoral theology that was likewise academic and formed in the university context as well as in that of the Order’s non-​university studia. Perhaps more than any other late medieval Augustinians, Henry, Hermann, and Jordan defined the mendicant theology of the oesa for the duration of the later Middle Ages and beyond.

­c hapter 6

Henry of Friemar According to Clemens Stroick, the author of what is still the only monograph to have been published on Henry, Henry “was no outstanding, independent thinker, even as he was a first-​rate teacher and fecund author.”1 Be that as it may, or may not, Henry was the most prolific Augustinian author of the later Middle Ages after Giles of Rome. Often categorized as a “mystical” or “spiritual” author,2 Henry was rather the outstanding example of the Augustinians’ mendicant theology. 1

Brother Henry

Henry was born c. 1245 in Friemar, a small town near Gotha.3 The details of his life are few, and even his date of birth is an estimate, based on his one comment that as a student in Bologna he had seen Lanfranc of Milan, the first Prior General of the oesa. Lanfranc died in 1264 or 1265, so based on the assumption that Henry would have been approximately twenty years old at the time, his birth can be established c. 1245.4 Given that, he could have entered the Order at the age of fourteen, which would have then been c. 1259, just shortly after Alexander iv had established the oesa in his bull Licet Ecclesiae of 1256.5 Henry was most likely referenced in an Urkunde of 1279 as Frater Henricus prior provincialis fratrum eremitarum ordinis sancti Augustini per Alemaniam,6 and we do know that he was present at the General Chapter in Regensburg in 1 “Schließen wir unser Urteil über die wissenschaftliche Bedeutgung Heinrichs von Friemar mit dem Hinweis, daß Heinrich kein überragender selbstä ndiger Denker war, wenngleich er ein vorzüglicher Lehrer und fruchtbarer Schriftsteller gewesen ist.” Clemens Stroick, O.M.I., Heinrich von Friemar. Leben, Werke, philospohisch-​theologische Stellung in der Scholastik, Freiburger Theologische Studien 68 (Freiburg, 1954), 186. Stroick’s work was based on his 1943 Doctor of Theology dissertation at the University of Bonn. 2 Stroick, Heinrich von Friemar, 187; Gutierrez, The Augustinians in the Middle Ages, 1357–​1517 (Villanova, 1983), 54. 3 For Henry’s biography, I am following Stroick and then Zumkeller, “Die Augustinerschule,” as well as attempting to reconstruct his curriculum vitae as much as possible based on general stipulations of the Order. 4 Stroick, Heinrich von Friemar, 2. 5 See ­chapter 2 above. 6 Stroick, Heinrich von Friemar, 13.

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1290, when the Order’s Constitutions were adopted.7 At the General Chapter of Paris in 1300, Henry, already designated as baccalareus, was sent to Paris to read the Sentences and pursue the degree of Master of Theology.8 To become a bachelor, Henry would have had to have first become a Lector, which required five years of study, two of which had to have been at a studium generale, most likely Paris. It is likely, therefore, that Henry, after a couple of years in Bologna, was sent on to Paris to study to become lector, during which time he would have heard lectures on the Bible and on Lombard’s Sentences, having already studied Aristotle. This was in any case the path that Henry’s younger confrère Jordan of Quedlinburg took, first studying in Bologna and then Paris.9 If that was the case with Henry, Henry would then have been in Paris in the last years of the 1260s or into the early 1270s, precisely during Thomas Aquinas’ second time as magister regens of the Dominican studium and Professor of Theology, when tensions between the secular and regular faculty were growing increasingly problematic.10 This is likewise the time when Giles of Rome was studying in Paris, lecturing on the Sentences in the early 1270s, lectures that Henry could have heard. After having become lector, Henry would then have been required to teach for a few years in a local studium before returning to Paris for further study, if progression on the academic path was to be his future. It took five additional years of study to achieve the baccalaureus biblicus,11 which Henry could not have done directly before progressing to lecture on the Sentences since he was most likely again Provincial Prior from 1296 until he was sent to Paris.12 This would have been in any case his second time as Prior Provincial, since he was already referred to as such in 1279. He is, however, seemingly mentioned three times in archival documents dated 1292 with respect to legal and administrative issues in Erfurt, one of which designates him as rector ecclesiarum,13 an office that would seem unlikely he held simultaneously with being Provincial Prior. Chronologically speaking, Henry could have received his Lectorate at Paris in the early 1270s, and then taught, perhaps 7 8 9 10

Ibid, 3. Ibid., 5; Zumkeller, “Augustinerschule,” 200. See Saak, High Way to Heaven, 253–​256. See Ian Wei, Intellectual Culture in Medieval Paris. Theologians and the University c. 1100–​ 1330 (Cambridge, 2012). 11 Saak, High Way to Heaven, 376. 12 Henry may have already been Prior Provincial in 1290, though this is based simply on speculation. Zumkeller points to the fact that the assumption that Henry was Prior Provincial from 1290–​1300 lacks any concrete evidence and there is an Urkunde from 1294 that mentions Hermannus Hershowe as Provincial Prior; Zumkeller, “Augustinerschule,” 200. 13 Stroick, Heinrich von Friemar, 13.

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in Erfurt, for a few years before being named Prior Provincial in the late 1270s, and then at some point thereafter, returned to Paris to continue his studies for the bachelor’s degree, and then after further teaching and administrative work, seemingly most likely in Erfurt, was again named Prior Provincial in 1295 or 1296 before then being sent once again to Paris in 1300 to read the Sentences. Unfortunately, we simply do not know, but such a speculative curriculum vitae is at least in keeping with the few concrete details we do have. From 1300 on, though, the evidence is a bit clearer, even if not as precise as we would hope. In keeping with the normal path, Henry incepted as magister theologiae in 1305 at the age of sixty, and served as magister regens of the Order’s studium in Paris from 1305 until at least 1312.14 Stroick claimed that in Paris Henry had studied under James of Viterbo, and that his works exhibit the clear influence of James as a faithful follower of Thomas Aquinas.15 Yet James left Paris in 1300, just as Henry would have arrived.16 If there had been a bit of overlap, it could not have been much.17 The immediate successor to James as magister regens at Paris was not Henry, but Arnaldus of Toulouse.18 Another Augustinian, Alexander of Hungary, had become magister in 1300 and was most likely still in Paris when Henry arrived. It is probable that Henry studied under Arnaldus, as Arnaldus was still magister regens when Henry promoted in 1305, becoming then Arnaldus’ successor. During the time from when Henry went to Paris to read the Sentences in 1300 to his promotion in 1305, in addition to Arnaldus and Alexander, Henry would have most likely heard the lectures on the Sentences of other Augustinian bachelors, namely, Gregory of Lucca, who also lectured on the Sentences at Paris in 1300, Amadeus of Castello, who lectured on the Sentences in 1301, and Augustinus of Ancona, who lectured on the Sentences in 1303; Henry also might have heard the lectures of Alexander of San Elpidio, who lectured on the Sentences in 1299 or 1300, becoming though magister only after Henry in 1307,19 when Henry himself was magister regens. Henry’s Dominican socii at the time would have included Meister Eckhardt and Dietrich of Freiburg, and for the Franciscans, Duns Scotus.20 As magister regens, Henry oversaw the promotion of Alexander 14 Zumkeller, “Augustinerschule,” 200. 15 Stroick,, Heinrich von Friemar, 186–​187; cf. Zumkeller, “Augustinerschule,” 198. 16 See ­chapter 4 above. 17 Stroick claimed that James didn’t leave Paris until 1302; Stroick,, Heinrich von Friemar, 5. 18 Zumkeller, “Augustinerschule,” 199. 19 Ibid., 174. 20 Schabel, “John Duns Scotus in the Eyes of His Fellow Regent Masters,”; Loris Sturlese, “Presentazione,” in Henricus de Frimaria, oesa, De decem. preceptis, Prohemium, ed Bertrand-​G. Guyot (Pisa, 2005), vii–xviii.

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of San Elpidio (1307), Gregory of Lucca (1309), Amadeus of Castello (1312), and very likely of Augustinus of Ancona (1313) and Bernhard Oliverii (1313).21 Henry was in Paris during the conflict between Boniface viii and Philip iv, a conflict that shaped as well Alexander of San Elpidio and Augustinus of Ancona, who held his Quodlibet in Paris in 1308 during Henry’s time as regent master, when Marsilius of Padua may have still been in Paris having recently served as rector. In other words, Henry was in Paris either as a student preparing to lecture on the Sentences, or as magister regens, during the formative time of the Augustinian ideology in the context of the religio-​politics that would shape the platform of the Order and yield its very identity, an identity to which Henry later contributed himself with his Tractatus de origine et progressu ordinis fratrum eremitarum sancti Augustini et de vero et proprio titulo eiusdem of 1334.22 He was not simply a teacher or famous spiritual writer; Henry was in the very thick of things during the period that the oesa was establishing its ideology and identity, a colleague to Giles of Rome, James of Viterbo, Alexander of San Elipidio, and Augustinus of Ancona. It was also during his time in Paris that he began his own theological production, joining in the common campaign of his Order, which he simply continued after he left Paris to return to Erfurt. It is not certain when Henry left Paris. Zumkeller gives his time as magister regens at Paris as 1305–​1312, but notes that this is not certain.23 In any case, in addition to the religio-​political controversies, or indeed as part thereof, while at Paris Henry was involved in Philip iv’s case against the Templars, as was Augustinus of Ancona, as well as in the case against Margarette Porette, and he was present at the Council of Vienne.24 He was, though, certainly back in Erfurt by 1315, since in 1315 he is referred to as Magister Heinricus, sacre theologie professor, prior provincialis provincie Thuringie et Saxonie, as the chair of a commission adjudicating the payment of taxes of the Bavarian Augustinians to the city of Regensburg,25 during what may have been his third time as Prior Provincial; and in 1318 the General Chapter of Rimini named Henry as examiner of all Augustinian students in all provinces of Germany.26 Erfurt would be his base from that time on until his death in 1340. He was one of the major 21 Zumkeller, “Augustinerschule,” 174. 22 Hen.Fr., Tractatus de origine et progressu Ordinis Fratrum Eremitarum Sancti Augustini, ed. Rudolf Arbesmann, Augustiniana 6 (1956): 90–​145. 23 Zumkeller, “Augustinerschule,” 200. 24 Stroick, Heinrich von Friemar,13–​14. 25 Ibid., 14. 26 “Examinator studentium promovendorum in quocumque studio alicuius provincie de Alemania.” As cited by Stroick, Heinrich von Friemar, 14. On examinations of students in the oesa, see Saak, High Way to Heaven, 381.

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players in the period of the establishment of the Augustinian ideology and identity, and until a comprehensive and thorough study of his life and works is conducted, going beyond the foundational work of Stroick, we cannot claim to know what the late medieval Augustinian tradition really was in more than a provisional sense. His theological production itself is evidence. 2

Theological Production

Henry’s production as a scholar was prodigious. In his catalogue of the manuscripts of Augustinians, Zumkeller listed 113 entries for Henry.27 These, ­however, included spurious and doubtful works as well as authentic works, separate listings of translations, and separate listings as well for works that were or may have been extracted from larger works but that circulated independently. For example, Henry’s earliest works, dated 1304, are his Opus sermonum exactissimorum de sanctis and Sermones de tempore.28 Zumkeller lists seven works that may have been extracts from one or the other of these collections. The Sermones de corpore Christi, extant in one manuscript, Munich, BStB Clm. 7684, dated 1419, consists of three sermons that are identical to sermons 51–​53 of the Opus sermonum exactissimum de sanctis, which Zumkeller notes and lists as n. 333b (the Opus Sermonum exactissimum de sanctis is n. 333).29 Henry’s Sermones de conceptione b. Mariae virginis, which is extant in ten manuscripts, are sermons extracted from his Opus Sermonum exactissimum de sanctis, and listed by Zumkeller as n. 333a. Yet Zumkeller lists as n. 293 a treatise De conceptione Mariae Virginis, for which then he simply references n. 333a, and apparently there are no independent manuscripts. Zumkeller lists as n. 319 a Sermo de passione Domini, extant in two manuscripts, and as n. 320 a Sermo alius de passione Domini, likewise extant in two manuscripts, with the note that these sermons are not identical to the sermons of the Opus Sermonum exactissimum de sanctis, though he does not mention whether they might have been part of Henry’s Sermones de tempore. Similarly, Zumkeller lists as n. 298 a

27 Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 285–​398, 125–​163. 28 The Munich manuscript of the Sermones de tempore explicitly designate Henry as doctor and professor of theology, claiming that the sermons were given in Erfurt “Expliciunt sermones seu collationes compilate a fr. Henrico de Fremaria doctore necnon professore sacrosancte theologie confrater fratrum ordins Augustini in civitate Erfordensi sub anno Domini 1304.” As cited by Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 331, 158. Henry, though, did not become a magister until 1305. ms Munich, BStB Clm. 3764 is dated to the 15th century. 29 Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 333b, 162.

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Tractatus vel sermo de corpore Christ, extant in four manuscripts, and as n. 299 a Sermo alius de corpore Christi, extant in one manuscripts, noting that they are not to be found in the Opus Sermonum exactissimum de sanctis, without again mention of their potential origins in Henry’s Sermones de tempore.30 Some of these works certainly could also have been extracts from Henry’s Sermones super epistolas et evangelia dominicalia per circulum anni, but Zumkeller never mentions this possibility. In other words, until a thorough study of Henry’s various collections of sermons and the extracts therefrom that circulated independently has been completed, we cannot determine which works attributed to Henry were indeed independent works, treatises or sermons, and which were simply excerpted from larger sermon collections. Similarly, Zumkeller lists as n. 330 In librum quartum Sententiarum, but notes that this work is that of the younger Henry of Friemar (d. 1354).31 On the other hand, Zumkeller lists as number 327a Quaestiones disputatae, extant, according to Zumkeller, in a single manuscript, Toulouse Bibliothèque de la Ville 739, fol 74v-​95v,32 though notes that these questions could also have been authored by the Augustinian Henricus de Rottleberode, as the attribution in the manuscript is simply that to Magister Henricus Ordinis Sancti Augustini. Thus while a precise and conclusive list of Henry’s works awaits much future work in the manuscripts, Table 5 below lists Henry’s twenty-​four authenticated works, roughly in chronological order to the extent possible, that circulated in more than a single manuscript, omitting the extracts or possible extracts from larger works discussed here immediately above. In addition, there are nine works attributed to Henry that are extant in a single manuscript, as detailed in Table 6 below. Some of these as well may have been excerpts from larger works; others certainly would have not been. Some may have been falsely ascribed to Henry, while others seem very plausibly indeed authentic. The same caveats apply here, namely, until a thorough analysis of these works is undertaken, we cannot simply assume that they are indeed independent works of Henry. Nevertheless, even if we base our evaluation on the twenty-​four authenticated works in Table 5, Henry was an author of major importance and, given the number of extant manuscripts, of major influence. As mentioned above, John of Basel cited Henry in his lectures on the 30 Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 298 and n. 299, 129. 31 Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 330, 157–​158. 32 Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 327a, 153. Why Zumkeller lists this work as 327a is curious since n. 327 is a Middle High German translation of a treatise De decem praeceptis, attributed in one manuscript to Henry, but is actually, according to Zumkeller, the work of Marquard von Lindau.

Henry of Friemar353 table 5

Authenticated works of Henry of Friemar

Title and date

Manuscripts and Reference editions

Opus sermonum exactissimorum de sanctis (1304) Sermones de tempore (1304) Questiones Ordinarie (1306–​1307)

44 mss; Hagenau Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 333, 1513 159–​161; Stroick, 42–​43 6 mss 2 mss.

Quodlibet primum, 3 mss viginti quaestiones complectens (1307) Abbreviatio Quodlibeti 2 mss xiv Godefridi de Fontibus (1300–​1312) Tractatus de adventu Verbi in mentem; alt. title: Tractatus super “Missus est” (1305–​1309) Tractatus de quatuor instinctionibus (1305–​1314)

Tractatus de septem gradibus amoris (c. 1305–​1314)

6 mss

150 mss; 4 editions [1498, 1513, 1514, 1652; edited Zumkeller; middle low German (7 mss); middle high German (4 mss); 2 mss

Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 331, 158; Stroick, 42–​43 Stephen Dumont, “The Authorship of the Quaestiones septem de Verbo Attributed to James of Viterbo,” in Companion to James of Viterbo, 357–​375. Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 328, 154; Stroick, pp. 47–​48. Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 328a, 154; no indication given as to the relationship between this work and n. 328 above. Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 289, 126–​127;

Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 307, 131–​135; trans. ns. 307a, 307b, 135–​136; ed. Robert G. Warnock and Adolar Zumkeller, osa, Der Traktat Heinrichs von Friemar über die Unterscheidung der Geister. Lateinisch-​mittelhochdeutsche Textausgabe mit Untersuchungen (Würzburg, 1977) Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 290,127; Henrici de Frimaria, O.S.A. Tractatus

354  table 5

Chapter 6 Authenticated works of Henry of Friemar (cont.)

Title and date

Manuscripts and Reference editions

Commentaria 13 mss in decem libros Ethicorum Aristotelis (1310) Tractatus de 2 mss exemptione; alt. title: Abbreviatio libri Aegidii Romani contra exemptionem editi per magistrum Henricum de Alemannis, oesa (1311/​12) Tractatus de 98 mss occultatione vitiorum sub specie virtutum (c. 1315)

ascetico-​mystici, tomus ii complectens Tractatum de septem gradibus amoris et Tractatum de occultatione vitiorum sub specie virtutum. Ed. Adolar Zumkeller, O.S.A. Würzburg, 1992, 11–​12. Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 302, 129–​130; Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 303, 130;

Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 316, 138–​140; Henrici de Frimaria, O.S.A. Tractatus ascetico-​mystici, tomus ii complectens Tractatum de septem gradibus amoris et Tractatum de occultatione vitiorum sub specie virtutum. Ed. Adolar Zumkeller, O.S.A. Würzburg, 1992, 33.

355

Henry of Friemar table 5

Authenticated works of Henry of Friemar (cont.)

Title and date

Manuscripts and Reference editions

Tractatus de decem praeceptis; alt. title: Expositio decalogi, Praeceptorium (1321–​1324)

c. 400 mss; printed under name of Nichola of Lyra Praeceptorium: at least nine editions by 1504; trans. low German (2 mss), low Dutch (1 ms) 16 mss

Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 325, 144–​152; trans. n. 325a, 325b, 152; Bertrand-​G. Guyot, O.P. ed., Henricus de Frimaria De Decem Preceptis, Scuola Normale Superiore (Pisa, 2005).

6 mss

Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 321, 142; not in Stroick

Expositio decretalis “Cum Marthae” de celebranda missa (1321–​1328) Expositio Orationis Dominice (before 1327) Expositio passionis dominicae; alt. title: Passio Domini litteraliter et moraliter explanate Tractatus de origine et progressu ordinis fratrum eremitarum sancti Augustini et de vero et proprio titulo eiusdem (1334) Tractatus de adventu Domini

Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 312, 137;

17 mss; 4 editions Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 318, 141–​ 142; Stroick, 44–​45

8 mss; ed. Arbesmann, Augustiniana 6 (1956), 37–​145.

Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 317, 141;

2 mss

Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 288, 126; not in Stroick

356  table 5

Chapter 6 Authenticated works of Henry of Friemar (cont.)

Title and date

Manuscripts and Reference editions

Commonitorium directivum simpliciuim volentium pure et integraliter confiteri Tractatus duo de corpore Christi Tractatus de incarnatione Domini Liber de perfectione spirituali interioris homini (excerptus ex collationibus et institutionibus sanctorum patrum, continens viginti quatuor libros partiales) Tractatus vel sermones de poenitentia Sermones super epistolas et evangelia dominicalia per circulum anni Tractatus de vitiis; alt. title: Summa vitiorum

2 mss, 14th cent.

Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 295, 128; not in Stroick

2 mss

Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 297, 128–​129; not in Stroick Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 306, 131; not in Stroick Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 323, 143–​144

4 mss 31 mss

2 mss

Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 324, 144

5 mss

Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 332, 158–​159

6 mss

Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 337, 163

357

Henry of Friemar table 6

Works of Henry Extant in a single manuscript

Title and Date

Manuscript

Tractatus vel sermo de Erlangen, ub 549 (780), aqua benedicta fol. 189v-​193v. 1443 Tractatus de confessione Munich, ub Fol. 58, fol. 18–​37. 1422 Sermones de corpore et Erlangen, ub 549 (780), sanguine Christi vel de fol. 119r-​165r, 179v-​189v. missarum celebration 1443 [contains 12 sermons] Actus divinationis Vienna, nb 14451, fol. quandoque est peccatum 244v-​261r. 1479 mortale, quandoque veniale De septem itineribus aeternitatis

Mainz, SdB 27 [no foliation or dating given]

Lectura de evangelio sancti Johannis Tractatus de libertatibus ordins Minorum

Erfurt, SdB Amplon. F 162, fol. 205-​420. 1443 Leipzig, ub 1062, fol. 180v-​182r. End of 14th cent.

Nota de vero religioso

Hohenfurt, StiB 31, fol. 137v. 14th cent.

Notulae super syllogismorum capitulum

Toulouse Archives Départementales de la Haute Garonne 4 (F. 2), fol. 89-​108

Reference Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 292, 128 Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 294, 128 Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 300, 129 Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 301, 129; “Möglicherweise handelt es sich hier um ein Exzerpt aus einem grösseren Werk.” Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 308, 136; “Dieses Werk unseres Augustiners ist bis jetzt unbekannt.” Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 309, 136 Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 311, 136 Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 328c, 154; “Vielleicht handelt es sich um einen Auszug aus einem grösseren Werk.” Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 334a, 163

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Sentences, and both Jordan of Quedlinburg and Hermann of Schildesche, both of whom worked with Henry in Erfurt, used his works for their own. In short, we cannot claim to portray adequately or accurately the late medieval Augustinian tradition until we have done far more foundational work in the extant sources of Henry, as well as in those of Giles of Rome, Hermann of Schildesche, and Jordan of Quedlinburg, research that will as well shed essential light on the impact of the late medieval Augustinians on the religious, political, and intellectual life of the later Middle Ages. As an indication of the importance of such research, I turn now to three examples of Henry’s works in the hope of stimulating future study. 2.1 Questio de Quolibet The first example is Henry’s quodlibetic question that he held in Paris in 1307, which Stroick has published in an abbreviated edition,33 together with a partial edition of question five of John of Pouilly’s first Quodlibet.34 The Gandavistae and John of Paris were John of Pouilly’s major opponents for his treatment of divine knowledge and the vision of God of the blessed,35 and Thomas Jeschke has shown that Henry had replied, at least implicitly, to John of Pouilly’s positions in his Tractatus de adventu Verbi in mentem.36 Henry was engaging directly with major issues of scholarly debate in Paris from the later thirteenth century and on into the early fourteenth. Henry was a socius of Duns Scotus and served as the magister opponens for the inception of John of Pouilly (Johannes de Polliaco).37 Scotus, however, was not the major figure of the day. As Chris Schabel, who brilliantly studied the Parisian theologians in the first decade of the fourteenth century, put it: Those who wish to fit the history of later medieval thought into a simple Aquinas-​Scotus-​Ockham narrative will be disappointed to learn that, for 33 Stroick, Heinrich von Friemar, 191–​246. 34 Ibid, 264–​271. For Quodlibets in the high and later Middle Ages, see, Chris Schabel, ed., Theological Quodlibeta in the Middle Ages: The Thirteenth Century (Leiden, 2006); Theological Quodlibeta in the Middle Ages: The Fourteenth Century (Leiden, 2007). 35 Thomas Jeschke, Deus ut tentus vel visus. Die Debatte um die Seligkeit im reflexiven Akt (ca. 1293–​1320), Studien und Texte zur Geistesgeschichte des Mittelalters 104 (Leiden, 2011); Ludwig Hödl, “Die Opposition des Johannes de Polliaco gegen die Schule der Gandavistae,” Bochumer philosophisches Jahrbuch für Antike und Mittelalter 9 (2004): 115–​177. Hödl suggested that Pouilly’s opposition to Henry of Ghent and his followers could have been the origins of fourtheenth-​century “nominalism”; Hödl, “Die Opposition,” 177. 36 Jeschke, Deus ut tentus vel visus, 200–​203. 37 Dumont, “The Authorship,” 374–​375.

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John of Pouilly, while Aquinas was extremely important, Henry of Ghent towered above John Duns Scotus and Pouilly was compelled to attack the Gandavistae along with a number of other contemporary masters among the seculars, Dominicans, Augustinians, and Cistercians, whom he mentions by name, reserving explicitly for Scotus the charge of heresy on the issue of the Immaculate Conception. Together, Henry of Friemar and John of Pouilly interacted with ten theologians active at Paris in 1306–​ 1307, three of these being seculars, to whom we can add the recently departed Peter of Auvergne and the still living Godfrey of Fontaines.38 This, then, was the intellectual context in which Henry was a major player as a new regent master. The disputation consists of twenty questions, and has come down to us in a single manuscript, Padua, Bibl. Anton. 662, fol. 187-​209. In addition, a manuscript in Assisi contains questions six and seven, and a manuscript in the Vatican contains question six.39 Based on Stroick’s transcription, the following is the list of the twenty questions Henry determined: Q.1: Whether the divine essence in and of itself is the basis of knowing something else distinct from itself? (Utrum essentia divina ex se praecise sit ipsi Deo ratio cognoscendi alia a se distincte?) Q.2: Whether God is able [to bring about] any positive effect not including a contradiction? (Utrum Deus possit in quemcumque effectum positivum non includentem contradictionem?) Q.3: Whether the first person [of the Trinity] is constituted formally in personal Being through its relation to its origins? (Utrum prima persona constituatur formaliter in esse personali per relationem originis?) Q.4: Whether a distinct supposition in divine terms is more greatly assimilated to a specific distinction in creatures or to an individual? (Utrum distinctio suppositorum in divinis magis assimiletur distinctioni specificae in creaturis vel individuali?) Q.5: Whether the production of creatures from absolute necessity presupposes in divine terms the causal emanation of persons? (Utrum 38

39

Chris Schabel, “John Duns Scotus in the Eyes of His Fellow Regent Masters in 1306–​1307, John of Pouilly and Henry of Friemar the Elder OESA,” forthcoming in Wouter Goris and Garrett R. Smith, eds., Duns Scotus’s Interlocutors at Paris (Muenster: Aschendorff). I would like to thank Dr. Schabel for providing me with a pre-​publication version of this study, which includes a critical edition of Henry’s third Quaestio ordinaria. Assisi, Bibl. Commun. 172, fol. 183–​189; Vat. Lat. 1012, fol. 124. See Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 328, 154.

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productio creaturarum de necessitate absoluta praesupponat in divinis causaliter emanationem personarum?) Q.6: Whether in the first works of God eccentric and epicyclic motion is to be posited? (Utrum in primis operibus Dei sit ponere motus excentricos et epicyclicos?) Q.7: Whether the glorified body is incorruptible by nature or only by the divine will or by something added to it? (Utrum corpus gloriosum sit incorruptibile per naturam vel per solam voluntatem divinam aut aliud additum?) Q.8: Whether the will in a human and in an angel differ with regard to species? (Utrum voluntas in homine et angelo differat specie?) Q.9: Whether a minor saint in heaven loves the good of another saint more than its own good? (Utrum minor sanctus in patria magis diligat bonum alterius sancti quam bonum proprium?) Q.10: Whether the power of the soul is able [to act] in the substance of any act without a habit? (Utrum potentia animae possit in substantiam cuiuscumque actus sine habitu?) Q.11: Whether the agent intellect pertains to the image [of God]? (Utrum intellectus agens pertineat ad imaginem?) Q.12: Whether original sin in infants recently born encompasses a multitude of sins as it does in adults? (Utrum in pueris mox natis peccatum originale includat multa peccata sicut in adultis?) Q.13: Whether the nature of theology is without evidence? (Utrum de ratione theologiae sit inevidentia?) Q.14: Whether habits generated in the soul are corruptible? (Utrum habitus generati in anima sint corruptibiles?) Q.15: Whether man is more eligible to have eternal life immediately than after progressing in merit over a long time? (Utrum eligibilius sit homini statim habere vitam aeternam quam postquam per multa temporis profecit in merito?) Q.16: Whether the rational soul always understands itself and all material things? (Utrum anima rationalis se ipsam et omnia materialia semper intelligat?) Q.17: Whether that which brings about absolute perfection and that it is better to be than not to be, is said about God and creatures univocally? (Utrum omne quod importat perfectionem absolutam et quod est melius esse quam non esse dicatur univoce de Deo et de creatura?) Q.18: Whether some philosopher however great is able to put forth a rational argument that no theologian is able to refute? (Utrum aliquis

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philosophus quantumcumque magnus potest facere aliquam rationem quam nullus theologus possit dissolvere?) Q.19: Whether someone would licitly be able to fulfill an oath which he had made if he had not studied the liberal arts or had not promoted to the rank of master? (Utrum aliquis licite posset servare iuramentum quod fecit, ne audiret artes aut ne promoveretur ad magisterium?) Q.20: Whether it is more expedient for a state to have a king by means of election or from succession? (Utrum magis expediat rei publicae habere regem per electionem quam per successionem?) John of Pouilly was one of Henry’s major opponents, whereby the academic debate did not cease, or necessarily begin, with John’s inception. In his Quodlibet 1, q. 5, John singled out Henry alone of his opponents who argued against Pouilly’s position that “God the Father had no cognition caused by the object before the production of the Word.”40 Pouilly rejected his opponents’ appeal to Augustine in De trinitate, and specifically to De trinitate 15 as proof against his position, claiming that his opponents, and thus Henry, did not correctly understand Augustine. “It is a wonder,” Pouilly mused, “that they put forward Augustine and do not consider his actual words.”41 Yet Pouilly could not have been referring to Henry’s Quodlibet. In his first question, Henry had stated that he would prove his point on divine cognition based on the position of established doctors, and on the intent of Augustine.42 Yet Henry did not explicitly discuss Augustine’s position, and makes simply a vague reference to Augustine and then cites Augustine’s De vera religione, not appealing to De trinitate at all.43 Indeed, nowhere in his Quodlibet did Henry make such an argument or cite De trinitate 15. In the eleventh question of his Quodlibet, Henry cited De trinitate 10 in treating the question of whether the agent intellect pertains to the image of God in humans,44 and again in question 40 “Sed doctores aliqui tripliciter contra dicta tunc arguunt—​ primo Henricus Augustiniensis—​ sic dicentes: ‘Quia aliqui dicunt quod Pater nullam cognitionem causatam ab objecto habet ante productionem Verbi, falsum est.” John of Pouilly, Quodlibet 1,5 (ed. Stroick, in Stroick, Heinrich von Friemar, 264–​271; 264). 41 “… mirum est quod allegant Augustinum et verba ejus non considerant.” Ibid., 267. 42 “… quod probo tripliciter: primo ex modo divino cognoscendi, secundo ex modo ponendi aliorum doctorum, quorum nullus videtur posse sustineri, nisi hoc ponatur, tertio hoc probo ex intentione Augustini.” Hen., Quodlibet, q. 1 (Stroick, 192). 43 “E praedictis etiam patere potest quod secundum nullum alium modum ponendi ideas videatur salvari quae Augustinus tribuit ipsis ideis … nec etiam ipsa intellectio divina in quantum huiusmodi potest dici principalis forma, sed solum essentia divina, ut patet per Augustinum in De vera religione …” Hen. Quodlibet, q. 1 (Stroick, 196). 44 Hen. Quodlibet 1, 11 (ed. Stroick, in Stroick, Heinrich von Friemar, 227–​231; 227.

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sixteen concerning “whether the rational soul always understands itself and all material things.”45 Pouilly’s argument though does show that the interpretation of Augustine was central to the debates at Paris in the early fourteenth century. Yet if Pouilly was not responding to Henry’s Quodlibet, which Stroick’s juxtaposition implies, to what then was he referring? Henry actually composed another series of ordinary questions. Zumkeller listed one manuscript for a work of Henry titled Questiones disputatae, though Zumkeller questioned whether this was genuinely Henry’s work or perhaps the work of Henry of Rottleberode.46 Stephen Dumont, however, has recently definitively attributed these Quaestiones to Henry with the title Quaestiones ordinariae disputatae Parisius.47 Moreover, Henry’s questions are identical to the questions attributed to James of Viterbo under the title Quaestiones septem de Verbo, likewise extant in a single manuscript in Bologna. Ypma had accepted the Quaestiones septem de Verbo as an authentic work of James.48 Yet Dumont has resolved the issued once and for all. These were questions disputed at Paris by Henry of Friemar over the course of 1306 to 1307, extant in two manuscripts. In other words, James of Viterbo’s Questiones septem de Verbo were actually Henry’s Questiones ordinarie. Chris Schabel has recently suggested a new dating of questions at Paris based on a thorough analysis of the extant manuscripts49: Early 1306: Henry of Friemar oesa, Inception procedure, Quaestio ordinaria 1 John of Poully, Inception procedure, Quaestio ordinaria 1 Lent 1306: Thomas of Bailly, Quodlibet vi Gerard of Bologna, Quodlibet ii Spring–​Fall 1306: Henry of Friemar oesa, Quaestiones ordinariae 2–​3 John of Poully, Quaestiones ordinariae 2–​5 Advent 1306: John of Pouilly, Quodlibet i James of Thérines ocist, Quodlibet i

45 Hen. Quodlibet 1, 16 (ed. Stroick, in Stroick, Heinrich von Friemar, 238–​240; 238. 46 Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 327a, 153. 47 Dumont, “The Authorship of the Quaestiones septem de Verbo,” 357–​375. 48 Eelcko Ypma, osa, “Recherches sur la productivité littéraire de Jacques de Viterbe usqu’à 1300,” Aug(L) 25 (1975): 251–​256. 49 Schabel, “John Duns Scotus in the Eyes of his Fellow Regent Masters,” as in note 38 above (page 37–​38 of the typescript).

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Gerard of Bologna ocarm, Quodlibet ii Early 1307: Henry of Friemar oesa, Quaestiones ordinaria 4–​6 James of Thérines ocist, Thomas of Bailly, John of Ghent (?), replicationes Lent 1307: Henry of Friemar oesa, Quodlibet John Duns Scotus ofm, Quodlibet Summer 1307: John of Pouilly, Quaestio ordinaria 7 Henry of Friemar oesa, Quaestio ordinaria 7 Advent 1307: Hervaeus Natalis op, Quodlibet i John of Pouilly, Quodlibet ii Alexander of Alessandria ofm, Quodlibet James of Thérines OCist, Quodlibet ii Gerard of Bologna OCarm, Quodlibet iii In this light, John could not have been referring to Henry’s Quodlibet since John’s first Quodlibet predates Henry’s. Henry and John were composing their respective Questiones in tandem, so to speak. Here not only do we see Henry “in context,” but also come to realize that Pouilly could have well been referencing Henry’s Quaestiones ordinariae 1-​3. The problem here is that the argument Pouilly attributed to Henry is not found in his first three ordinary questions, though preliminary analysis suggests that it may be in the fourth question, Utrum productio verbi in divinis praesupponat in patre cognitionem creaturarum, though more textual analysis is needed before a confirmed determination can be made. If it turns out that Pouilly was indeed referencing Henry’s fourth Questio ordinaria, then Schabel’s chronology as given above will have to be revised. Yet such a determination awaits a critical edition of Henry’s text and a thorough comparison of Henry’s Ordinary Questions with those of John and of both within the broader Parisian context.50 50

The need for a critical edition of Henry’s Quaestiones ordinariae is clear. Ciriaco Scanzillo edited the first question as attributed to James of Viterbo and Schabel has edited the third; Ciriaco Scanzillo, “La Prima quaestio disputata de Verbo” del codice A. 971 delle Biblioteca dell’Archiginnasio di Bologna: Edizione e note,” Asprenas 19 (1972): 41–​61; Schabel, “John Duns Scotus in the Eyes of his Fellow Regent Masters”; I am currently working on re-​editing question one and then question two. At this point though even the listing of questions is not certain. Zumkeller lists eight questions, the second of which, Utrum Verbi ad Spiritum Sanctum est personalis distinctio, si Spiritus Sanctus non procederet ab eo, which is the question Schabel edited as the third question, which is likewise the third question as listed by Dumont; Dumont, “The Authorship,” 362. Dumont lists ten questions in the

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What is clear, however, is that Henry’s Questiones ordinarie and his Questiones de quolibet, both determined while regent master at Paris, not only evidence Henry’s scholastic acumen, but also Henry’s importance for understanding theological debate at Paris in the early fourteenth century. While Stroick’s estimation of Henry as not having been an “original thinker” may be valid in the abstract sense of the great minds of the later thirteenth and early fourteenth centuries, it far too easily dismisses Henry’s academic standing within the university setting. Comprehensive analysis of either set of questions is beyond the scope of this study, but here I hope to demonstrate Henry’s place within the intellectual climate of late thirteenth-​century and early fourteenth-​century Paris, a training and expertise he brought with him to Erfurt to teach in the Order’s stadium there, thereby shedding light as well on the intellectual training and sophistication of lectors in the Order’s non-​university studia. A representative example for doing so that likewise offers an indication of how Henry dealt with the issues, can be had from a discussion of Question 18 of Henry’s Quodlibet, which concerns the relationship between philosophy and theology, a major issue for theologians and philosophers at Paris is the wake of the Condemnations of 1277. That the issue was still a matter of debate in 1307 indicates the importance of the issue of the so-​called “double truth” as well as Henry’s treatment of the matter. In Question 18, Henry asked whether any philosopher is able to put forward an argument that no theologian is able to refute. He replied that there are two contrary opinions on such as question, which he would first address, and then he would turn to the extent to which these two opinions are related to the truth of the question itself.51 The first was that certain venerable doctors hold

51

Toulouse manuscript, though argues that the last three actually are those of Gerard of Bologna. The Bologna ms, which had been the basis for attributing the questions there to James, contains seven questions, thus the title Quaestiones septem de Verbo. Until a complete critical edition is done, the establishment of the text itself of Henry’s Quaestiones ordinariae is in question. “… quo supposito de ista quaestione inveniuntur duae contrariae opinions quae, preimo cum suis motivis brevis inducuntur. Secundo, ostenditur qualiter dictae opiniones se habent tam ad rei dictae veritatem quam ad locutionis proprietatem.” Henry, Quodlibet 1, q. 18 (Stroick, 243). Stroick did not transcribe Henry’s point of departure, which concerned the fields of philosophy and theology as such: “Videndum quod hic primo supponendum est quid per philosophum et theologiaum intelligere debeamus …” Ibid. Stroick omitted the text after debeamus simply giving the elypsis. Henry’s exposition of this distinction would be central to his determination of the question, but to access Henry’s position one needs to return to the manuscript itself, which is yet another indication of the need and importance of a critical edition of Henry’s Quodlibet. Stroick noted that Gerard of Bologna posed the same question in the second question of his fourth Quodlibet, which was held after 1307. In other words, Gerard seemingly was replying to Henry, testifying

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that whatever is able to be introduced by humans by the way of reason against the faith is able to be completely refuted rationally by humans, and therefore all arguments introduced against the faith by some philosopher are able to be refuted by a theologian, even if not by this or that particular theologian.52 The second opinion then that Henry presented was that “a theologian is not able to show an evident reason of the refutation made, because if he were, he would be able to prove the truth of faith.”53 Henry accepted the validity of both opinions, claiming that properly understood they are not contradictory at all,54 though he clearly expressed his preference for the first based on the appropriateness of its expression.55 Such a preference is evident based on his treatment of the two positions, for while he merely stated the second opinion, he gave a much fuller explication of the first. In treating the first position, Henry argued that although those things which are of faith we are not able to prove since faith is above reason, nevertheless because arguments against faith are introduced in such a way that they proceed by the way of reason and consequently they do not transcend reason, it is clear that they are able to be refuted by humans.56 Some, though, argue that this is not the case, since if the faith cannot be proved by reason, then neither can the contrary be proved by reason. Moreover, that which is necessary does not follow from that which is possible or impossible, because if that were the case then Being and Potential would be the same. To remove all question or doubt

52

53 54 55 56

to Henry’s importance on the Parisian debates of the early fourteenth century. See also Schabel, “John Duns Scotus in the Eyes of his Fellow Regent Masters.” “Propter primum sciendum quod quidam venerabiles doctores tenant quod quidquid potest per hominem contra fidem via rationis induci hoc totum potest per hominem rationabiliter dissolve, et ideo omnes rationes inducte contra fidem per quemlibet philosophum possent solvi per theologum, licet forte non per istum vel alium.” Henry, Quodibet 1, q. 18 (Stroick, 243). “Opinio vero secunda procedit ex hoc quod theologus non potest illius interemptionis factae rationem evidentem ostendere, quia secus posset veritatem fidei declarare.” Ibid, 244. Sic ergo patet quod praedictae opinions vere intellectae in nullo discordant quoad rei dictae veritatem …” Ibid. “… quo modo autem se habent quoad locutionis proprietatem, quid sit proprie dictum an quod huiusmodi rationes theologus potest dissolvere vel non potest, dico, quantum mihi videtur sine praeiudicio quod prima opinio magis loquitur proprie quam secunda.” Ibid. “… nam licet ea quae fidei sunt, non possumus probare eo quod fides supra rationem est, rationes tamen contra fidem inducte eo ipso, quod via rationis procedunt et per consequens rationem non transcendent, patet quod possunt ab homine dissolve …” Ibid., 243.

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would be to make the truth manifest, as Aristotle argued in the third book of his Metaphysics. Therefore, if it were possible that a theologian could refute the arguments of a philosopher that were contrary to the faith, it would entail making manifest the truths of faith, which is not possible.57 Henry then pointed out that these two positions seem contradictory in many ways, though denied the contradiction, which he claimed arises based on the fallacy of equivocation and the differing means of accepting the solution.58 He then asserted that all philosophical arguments posited that are against the faith are false and therefore their refutation is based either on the propositions themselves, or on the terms of the propositions, or on factors external to the propositions themselves.59 Henry thereafter gave his resolution of the two positions regarding the first position on the question: I say therefore that in the resolution of such arguments two things are to be considered: first, the rejection of the falsehood itself and the validity of the rejection; second, the rationale and evidence of that rejection. The apparent discrepancy of the stated opinions arises according to the components of this distinction, for with respect to the rejection itself of the assumed falsehood, the theologian is able to refute every argument introduced against the faith based on the supposited things that are believed, to the extent that he rejects something by the way of rejecting. The reason of this is because just as a natural philosopher resolves all things into the first principles, which are based on the evidence of reason and the senses, so a theologian resolves all his own considerations into the first principles of that which is believed and supposited by the faith. Therefore, just as the natural philosopher shows that what is contrary to the first principles known naturally is truly is to be rejected, so the

57 58 59

Ibid. “Sed licet istae opinions mujltum videantur contrariae, in re tamen, quantum capio, nulla est contrarietas, quia quidquid concedit una, et altera, sed tota controversia procedit ex aequivocatione et diverso modo accipiendi solutionem.” Ibid. “Ad eius evidentiam sciendum quod omnis ratio philosophica eo ipso quod contra fidei veritatem inducitur, oportet quod sit falsa et ideo est aliqua praemissarum interimenda vel simplicieter et in se, ut si tratio aliquomodo procedat ex terminis propriis vel quoad propositum, ut si procedat ex communibus et extrinsecis, tunc etiam solvuntur ostendundo eius impertinentiam et quod non est ad propositum, sed extranea.” Ibid., 244.

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theologian rejects all that of nature that contradicts either the articles of faith or canonical authority.60 Henry then asserted his preference for the first position regarding the question as such, namely, that a theologian can indeed refute arguments of philosophers that contradict the faith by means of reason. Henry’s question here is evidence that the issue of the relationship between philosophy and theology, and that between reason and faith, was still one of considerable interest in the early fourteenth century in the wake of the Condemnations of 1277. Moreover, the issues Henry treated would continue to be matters of debate on into the later fourteenth century with the “crisis of logic,” whereby scholars from Robert Holcott to Henry of Langenstein and Pierre d’Ailly dealt with the validity of Aristotelian syllogistic for trinitarian theology and whether Aristotle’s logic was indeed universally valid, even with respect to divine terms (in terminis divinis). Henry too had dealt with the intricacies of trinitarian theology in his Questiones ordinarie, which evidence too the contemporary relevance of the theme. The “crisis in logic” was in many ways simply the fusion of these two topics that had been fiercely debated in Paris in the late thirteenth and on into the early fourteenth century. In the fourteenth century, Robert Holcott had argued for the need for a special “logic of faith” (logica fidei) to deal with such matters, which though seemed to deny 60

“Dico ergo quod in solution talium rationum est duo considerare, primo ipsam interemptionem falsi et vere interimendi, secondo rationem et evidentiam illius interemptionis, et secundum haec membra huius distinctionis procedit diversitas praedictarum opinionum, nam quantum ad ipsam interemptionem falsi assumpti et theologies omnem rationem contra fidem inductam ex credibilibus suppositis potest dissolvere, in quantum aliquid via interimendi interimit. Cuius ratio est, quia sicut philosophus naturalis omnia resolvit in principia prima, quae sunt ex evidentia rationis et sensus, ita theologus omnia sua considerate resolvit in principia credibilia et fide supposita, ete ideo sicut philosophus naturalis illud indicat vere interimendum quod repugnant principiis primis notis naturaliter, ita theologus omne illud naturae interimit quod vel articulis fidei vel canonis aucthoritati contradicit.” Ibid. Henry used here the term interemptio, interimere, which I have translated as “reject.” Interemptio, interimere is a term (i.e., in its verbal and substantive form) drawn from medieval logic to refer to rejecting both the major and minor premise of a syllogism. It is, therefore, the rejection of the argument as such. See Alexis Bugnolo, ofm, “The Rationale for the Translation of Peculiar Latin Terms Used in the English Translation of Master Peter Lombard’s First Books of Sentences and of St. Bonaventure’s Commentaria on the Same,” publilshed online at: https://​fra​ncis​can-​arch​ive.org/​bona​vent​ura/​cp-​ration​ ale.html (2010). Bugnolo advocated for translating interemptio with the English cognate, “interemption.” Yet the English “interemption” is as obscure, if not more so, than the Latin. Thus I have translated it as “rejection” which is intended to imply “rejection of the argument as such.”

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the universality of Aristotelian logic. The controversy was still a major issue on into the sixteenth century when Martin Luther defended a relatively moderate position in upholding the universality of Aristotelian logic, even as he made a clear distinction between philosophy and theology, between faith and reason. For Luther, a “logic of faith” was not needed precisely because Aristotle’s logic was indeed universally valid. The problem was not clearly distinguishing between the two realms of reason and faith, or philosophy and theology, leading to the fallacy of equivocation.61 In short, Luther’s position was very similar indeed to that of Henry. Henry too clearly demarcated the realms of philosophy and theology based on the first principles of philosophy being those drawn from the reason and the senses whereas theology’s first principles were the articles of faith and canonical authority. If philosophy, based on reason, posited arguments that contradicted the principles of the faith, they were to be rejected completely and as such, both the major and the minor premises, and thus the conclusions. Yet theologians could, should, and must use philosophy and philosophical arguments to refute such philosophical positions, even while keeping the first principles, that is, the “two realms” or “kingdoms” clearly distinct. I am not saying here that Luther’s position was simply that of Henry’s, and indeed, Luther was confronting the problem over two hundred years later. For Luther, the demarcation was not that based on the respective first principles, but rather, for theology, all arguments were to be resolved based on Scripture, or at least on Luther’s own interpretation of Scripture. Luther put forward Scripture in place of the articles of faith and canonical authority. And yet, Henry’s fundamental position was the same as Luther’s regarding the relationship between philosophy and theology, and that between reason and faith. There is, though, no evidence whatsoever to even suggest that Luther might have known Henry’s Quodlibet. The historian, though, can only wonder how things might have been different if he had.62 The point here, though, is that Henry was intricately involved in the scholarly debates at Paris as regent master and before, and his theological production while at Paris sheds light on Scotus’ early context, helping to place Scotus

61 62

See Saak, Luther, 138–​152. For the late medieval crisis in logic, See Michael Shank, “Unless you believe, you Shall not Understand”: Logic, University, and Society in Late Medieval Vienna (Princeton, 1988). The same statement is valid with respect to the late medieval Augustinian tradition as well, of which Luther gave no evidence or indication that he had read a single late medieval Augustinian theologian, with the possible exception of Gregory of Rimini, and that not before 1519, even though there is a slight possibility that Luther had read Gregory rather earlier. See Saak, Luther.

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within the diverse Parisian academic world in which he was not the major figure, as Schabel has shown. In other words, Henry was thoroughly involved in the intellectual culture of late thirteenth, early fourteenth century Paris, treating such topics of the day as divine cognition, the vision of God, the intricacies of Trinitarian theology, including the filioque, the immaculate conception, and the relationship between philosophy and theology. His Quodlibet reflects not only Henry’s own intellectual interests and breadth, but also the questions of the day in Paris in 1306 and 1307, just four years after Unam Sanctam and just three years after the death of Bonifance viii. Paris was no ivory tower, and in question twenty of his Quodlibet, Henry treated the issue of whether a state is better governed by a leader who is elected, or by one who inherits the position. He set forth arguments on both sides of the issue though came down on the side of election. He did though note that “in such a matter it is difficult or rather impossible to offer necessary reasons, but it suffices to persuade what is most probable,”63 and in that light claimed that the establishment of a prince is better done by election than by inheritance, a position he was moved to accept because “the state (res publica) was never so well governed as in the time that the Roman Empire was ruled by virtuous men, elected on account of their eminent virtue.”64 In 1306, both the emperor and the pope were elected offices. Little did Henry know, though, that not long thereafter a major controversy would break out over the disputed elections of both the emperor and the pope after the deaths of Pope Clement v and Emperor Henry vii in 1314, bringing about simultaneously a papal and an imperial vacancy.65 By that time, Henry most likely was in Erfurt, from where he would experience the heightened conflict, but little did he know what was to come in 1306 in arguing for the benefit of elections. His point in doing so, though, was based on the election of virtuous men, and virtue was one of the major themes of Henry’s theological production. Two years previous to his Quodlibet, Henry had published two series of sermons, apparently given in Paris, though perhaps one was in Erfurt, and did so “for the instruction of 63 64

65

“Quamvis ergo in tali materia difficile vel potius impossibile est rationes necessarias adducere, sed sufficiat in ea probabiliter persuadere …” Hen. Quodlibet, q. 20 (Stroick, 246). … secundum praemissas tamen videtur institutio principis per electionem magis expediens eo quod magis expedit regi rem publicam arte quam sorte et a proponente quam a fortuna ac per hoc subiecta magis ad virtutum opera inducuntur et maiorem inter se amicitiam et reverentiam complectuntur; et ad hoc potessime moveor ex eo quod res publica nunquam ita bene gubernata fuit sicut tempore illo quo per viros virtuosos et propter eminentiam virtutum electos Romanum Imperium regnabatur.” Hen. Quodlibet, q. 20 (Stroick, 246). See Saak, High Way to Heaven, 41–​43.

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young friars.”66 The theoretical and the practical were kept together, exemplifying the perspective of the Augustinians’ mendicant theology. And when it came to the practical issue of how to live well, Henry argued in his Commentary on Aristotle’s Ethics that while the intellect of knowing what would lead to the happiness of reaching one’s final end of blessedness was a requisite antecedent, the will held primacy of place,67 arguing in keeping with Giles of Rome’s emphasis on the primacy of the will. Yet the will needed instruction and guidance, and that Henry offered after he left Paris for Erfurt in his commentary on the Ten Commandments. 2.2 De Decem Preceptis Henry’s De decem preceptis, based on extant manuscripts and early printed editions, was his most popular and influential work. There are at least 400 extant manuscripts of this work, and 23 printed editions, even as the printed editions were published under the name of Nicholas of Lyra. The work can be dated between 1321 and 1324,68 during Henry’s time as senior lector at Erfurt, when Jordan of Quedlinburg arrived as junior lector and began lecturing on the Gospel of Matthew. Henry’s De decem preceptis can be considered as a compendium of moral theology that teaches one how to live.

66

67

68

“Ideo ego frater Heinricus de Frimaria istud opusculum sermonum contraxi ad eruditionem iuvenum fratrum …” Hen. Sermones de tempore, as cited by Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 331, 158. The explicit of the Munich manuscript of Henry’s Sermones de tempore states: “Expliciunt sermones seu collationes compilate a fr. Henrico de Fremaria doctore necnon professore sacrosancte theologie confrater fratrum ordinis Augustini in civitate Erfordensi sub anno Domini 1304.” As cited by Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 311, 158. The manuscript is dated to the fifteenth century, so one cannot read the explicit as clearly stating that the sermons were given in Erfurt, since the reference could simply have referred to Henry, rather than to the location; Henry did not become a professor of theology until 1305, so the explicit too could have been referring to Henry as he was known in the fifteenth century, rather than as a statement of the time the sermons were delivered, depending perhaps on how one interprets the “necnon.” For the other series of sermons dated to 1304, Henry’s Opus sermonum exactissimorum de sanctis, see Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 333, 159. “Cum enim adeptio beatitudins sit per actum quo formaliter conjungitur potentia obiecto benefico, cum non solum intellectus per actum cognitionis, sed etiam voluntas per actum perfecti amoris et intimae fruitionis conjungatur obiecto benefico, ut visum est, sequitur quod tota felicitatis consecutio non sit per actum intellectus, sed solum antecedens et prima, secunda autem sit etiam per actum voluntatis.” Hen. Commentarium. In libros Ethicorum, excerpted and edited Cl. Stroick, in Stroick, Henrich von Friemar, 246–​264; 264. Stroick notes that the explicit of Munich, BStB Clm 17787 gives 1324 as the date, and in that work Henry cited Pope John xxii’s bull Vas electionis, which was issued on 24 July 1321; Stroick, 38.

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Henry explicitly stated that his intent in composing his treatise was to teach an understanding of the Ten Commandments to exhort the common faithful. To do so though he needed first to set out the organization of the Commandments, their origins, and how they have been handed down, as a means of preparing his readers for his treatment of the individual commandments themselves.69 He divided the Commandments, as was traditional, into two tables, the first consisting of the first three commandments, while the second table then was comprised of commandments four through ten. The origins of all the commandments however is divine love, whereby the first table is directed towards the love of God and the second towards the love of one’s neighbor.70 The Ten Commandments indeed are an explicit articulation of what the natural law has implicitly inscribed in human hearts,71 to the extent that the Ten Commandments are not only inscribed in human hearts, but also in human bodies, as seen in our ten fingers, ten toes, and the ten senses, the five interior senses and the five exterior senses.72 Yet the Fall damaged human understanding of the Ten Commandments inscribed in humans’ very being, in their mind and in their body, and thus the Fall wounded humans in a three-​fold manner.73 First, it wounded humans’ rational capacity in knowing the truth, for before the Fall, Adam and Eve had a sincere cognition of God through intellectually infused species, whereas after the Fall, the reason was depressed to such an extent that humans had to beg God for corporeal species for cognition of the divine.74 Second, a love of the highest Good before the fall was corrupted into a concupiscence for the love of earthly things.75 And third, humans’ ability to detest evil was gravely weakened after the Fall.76 Yet 69

“Intendentes igitur pro communi exhortatione fidelium aliquam notitiam tradere diuinorum preceptorum, tria sunt notabiliter pre intelligenda: primum respicit precpetorum distinctionem, secundum proprie respicit ipsorum originem, tertium respicit ipsorum traditionem.” Henricus de Frimaria, oesa, De decem. preceptis, Prohemium, ed Bertrand-​ G. Guyot (Pisa, 2005), 16,271–​276); hereafter cited as: Hen. De dec. precept., with page references to the edition in parenthesis. 70 Hen. De dec. precept. Proh. (ed. Guyot, 16–​18); “… ideo dici potest quod omnia precepta et eorum impletio salutifera originaliter emanant a radice caritatis tamquam a suo fontali principio et in ipsam ultimate ordinantur tamquam in finem et terminum completiuum. Quod patet: nam precepta prime tabule emanant a dilectione Dei, secunde uero tabule a dilectione proximi.” Hen. De dec. precept. Proh. (ed. Guyot, 18,322–​327). 71 Hen. De dec. precept. Proh. (ed. Guyot, 19,345–​347). 72 Hen. De dec. precept. Proh. (ed. Guyot, 10,159–​164). 73 Hen. De dec. precept. Proh. (ed. Guyot, 3,16–​4,28). 74 Hen. De dec. precept. Proh. (ed. Guyot, 3,17–​4,22). 75 Hen. De dec. precept. Proh. (ed. Guyot, 4,22–​25). 76 Hen. De dec. precept. Proh. (ed. Guyot, 4,25–​28).

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the divine Commandments perfectly heal each of these effects of the Fall.77 Thus one who retains the Ten Commandments in one’s heart and mind and faithfully observes them, most certainly achieves blessedness in this life,78 and “will without doubt achieve eternal blessedness”79 in the life to come. This is not, however, works righteousness. In his treatment of the very first commandment Henry made clear that humans live from the grace and love of God. All virtues come from God and flow back to God in thanksgiving, whereby nothing “should be ascribed to one’s own merits or virtues,” but all should be ascribed to God humbly in thanksgiving.80 Here we may find the origins of Jordan of Quedlinburg’s much more developed treatment of the return to God, whereby humans have fallen from their origin and end and are making their way back in this life to that very origin from which they came, union with God, and along their way they follow the Old Law, the Ten Commandments, living a life of virtue in performing works of love to combat the devil though cannot count any of their works as their own, but must in humility ascribe everything to God who has given his elect, chosen from all eternity out of the degenerate mob of the damned, the gifts with which to fight the devil and make their way back to Him.81 Yet though the Ten Commandments are inscribed in human being, they can be erased therefrom and are so in parallel to the three-​fold inscription by a 77 Hen. De dec. precept. Proh. (ed. Guyot, 4,29–​34). 78 “Nam ipsa uoce ueritatis homo ex diuinorum preceptorum obseruantia certissime assecuratur de uita beata.” Hen. De dec. precept. Proh. (ed. Guyot, 5,55–​56). 79 “Propter tertium est sciendum quod quicumque precepta diuina sic hilariter audierit et ea in corde tam memoriter retinuerit et nichilominus in opere tam uiriliter adimpleuerit, talis sine dubio eternam beatitudinem feliciter obtinebit.” Hen. De dec. precept. Proh. (ed. Guyot, 15,263–​266). 80 “… quod homo ex caritate Deo uiuat secundum omnia dona uirtutum et gratie que ab ipso recepit. Hec enim omnia debet per deuotam gratiarum actionem in Deum refundere, nichil de hoc suis meritis uel uiribus ascribendo, sed omnia in primam uenam diuine largitatis humiliter refundendo ut, ex hoc, influentia donorum et gratiarum sibi largius augeatur … quia per hoc quod homo dona gratiarum per humilem recognitionem in Deum refundit, sibi fluxus gratie copiosius ampliatur.” Hen. De dec. precept. 1 (ed. Guyot, 33,288–​297). Zumkeller noted: “Sein [scil. Henry’s] reiches erhaltenes Schriftum beschӓftigt sich freilich zumeist mit Fragen des spirituellen Lebens und der praktischen Seelsorge, wӓhrend über seine theologischen Auffassungen zu der in diesem Buch behandelten Problematik nur wenig bekannt ist.” Zumkeller, Erbsünde, Gnade, Rechtfertigung und Verdienst, 13. The point here is that the issues Zumkeller dealt with were ones that Henry did treat in his “spiritual” and “pastoral” works, that have always been categorized, even by Zumkeller, as distinct from theological works, resulting in a far too myopic view of what was and what was not Augustinian theology. 81 See Saak, High Way to Heaven, 417–​465.

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three-​fold erasure, namely they are erased by the water of carnal delight (aqua carnalis delectationis), by the fire of temporal affections (ignis temporalis affectionis), and by traditional worldly comportment (uetustas mundialis conuersationis),82 the last of which “makes humans blind with respect to divine ­knowledge, cold with respect to divine love, and impotent with respect to performing good works.”83 These three are all contained in the prohibitions against carnal delight (delectatio carnis), which Henry treated in the last Commandment, “Do not covet your neighbor’s wife.”84 Henry asserted that in addition to the “many damnations” associated with carnal delight as he discussed in treating the sixth commandment, “Do not commit adultery,” there are three more that should cause humans to tremble, for: “First is because carnal delight deprives humans of the association and participation of all goods. Second is because it deprives humans of divine sustenance and angelic restauration. Third is because it excludes humans from beatific enjoyment.”85 In the sixth commandment, Henry put forward a restrictive definition of adultery, so that for him, even “simple fornication,” which he noted some say is only a venial sin, was indeed, as adultery, a mortal sin.86 Any illicit use of sexuality fell under the ban against adultery,87 including rape and the breaking of one’s vow of chastity.88 Henry expounded on the eight damnations resulting from not adhering to the sixth commandment, which were 1. The blindness of the mind; 2. not considering death and hell; 3. the inconstancy of one’s mind; 4. the love of self; 5. the failure of self-​control; 6. hate for God; 7. the love of the present life; and finally 8. the desperation of one’s future blessedness.89 The three then added to this list in his treatment of the tenth commandment were all derived from 82 Hen. De dec. precept. Proh. (ed. Guyot, 12,188–​15,262). 83 “… facit enim hominem cecum in diuina cognitione, frigidum in diuina dilectione, et impotentem in bona operatione.” Hen. De dec. precept. Proh. (ed. Guyot, 14,244–​246). 84 Henry switched the ninth and tenth commandments as presented in many lists, with the ninth for Henry being “Do not covet your neighbor’s goods” and the tenth then specifically forbidding coveting your neighbor’s wife; cf. The Catechism of the Catholic Church, http://​www.vati​can.va/​arch​ive/​ccc_​css/​arch​ive/​catech​ism/​comm​and.htm. 85 “Propter secundum est sciendum quod homo merito debet retrahi a delectatione carnali propter multa dampna superius expressa in sexto precepto, sed preter illa possunt hic induci tria alia damna cuilibet homini merito perhorrenda. Primum est quiua carnalis delectatio priuat hominem omnium bonorum consortio et participatione. Secundum est quia priuat hominem cibo diuino et angelica refectione. Tertium est quia excludit hominem a beatifica fruition …” Hen. De dec. precept. 10 (ed. Guyot, 181,166–​173). 86 Hen. De dec. precept. 6 (ed. Guyot, 112,15–​113,30. 87 Hen. De dec. precept. 6 (ed. Guyot, 112,5–​9). 88 Hen. De dec. precept. 6 (ed. Guyot, 113,31–​117,103). 89 Hen. De dec. precept. 6 (ed. Guyot, 118,137–​120,179).

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carnal delight, whereby in sum, carnal delight for Henry was perhaps the most concerning impediment to leading a religious life. Sexuality for Henry, as for the Augustinians in general, was the primary factor for moral theology, for the laity, the clergy, and the religious.90 It was not, however, Henry’s only concern. Not only did he emphasize the dangers of carnal delight, but he also warned about the circumstances that could lead to such illicit use of one’s members by highlighting the ways in which dancing and drunkenness broke the third commandment regarding keeping the sabbath holy. While dancing was not in and of itself a sin, it certainly could be so, especially when it was lascivious provoking the libido. Drinking and eating to excess could simply result from a celebration when one had realized one had had “too much,” in which case it was simply a venial sin, but if the point was to gorge oneself and to get inebriated, that was a mortal sin, especially on the sabbath.91 If passion and gluttony could get one into trouble, so too could murder. Murder was a mortal sin, prohibited by the fifth commandment, and Henry treated it at length. Yet breaking the fifth commandment extended well beyond the actual physical killing of another human being.92 Spiritual killing, resulting from hate and anger as well as slander and insult, was just as bad, and indeed was even worse. As bad as killing another human being was, Henry argued, spiritual killing was more serious for it entailed killing one’s own soul, and since the soul is more important than the body, killing someone’s soul is worse than killing a physical body, especially since hate, envy and anger are essentially forms of suicide.93 Here Henry made a similar argument as had James of Viterbo in his fourth Quodlibet where in question twenty-​seven he argued that perjury was a greater sin than was murder because killing another human being was against the fifth commandment, a commandment of the second table directed toward one’s neighbor whereas perjury was breaking an oath to God, which was breaking a commandment of the first table, namely, the second commandment of not taking God’s name in vain.94 We cannot determine, though, whether Henry knew this argument of James, but the same reasoning is involved. Yet Henry did not include perjury in his list of acts that constitute spiritual murder, but rather listed hate, anger, envy, and slander, and it was to slander that Henry devoted the most space. Slander, or “back biting” 90 Cf. Saak, High Way to Heaven, 286–​306. 91 Hen. De dec. precept. 3 (ed. Guyot, 62,156–​64,200). 92 Hen. De dec. precept. 5 (ed. Guyot, 912–​11). 93 Hen. De dec. precept. 5 (ed. Guyot, 99,169–​182). 94 James of Viterbo, Quodlibet iv, q. 27 (ed. Ypma, 98,2–​99,41).

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(detractio), was the worst form of murder since it was not limited to one person but was infectious. “Wherefore,” Henry argued, “such murder is the most dangerous of all because it is contagious, for it seeps out of one person into another and lethally infects all those into whom the venom of that slander is poured.”95 Slander was a deadly vice especially for monastic communities, and Henry wanted his brothers to know its dangers, much in the same way as did Martin Luther, who preached against “back biters” in 1515 in very strong terms, since he himself had suffered from vicious rumors.96 Though Henry did not treat perjury in his exposition of the fifth commandment, he certainly did in his treatment of the second. Here, Henry argued that breaking oaths and vows were breaking the second commandment by indeed taking God’s name in vain, and he noted that Hostiensis equated perjury with voluntary murder and that Augustine considered it even worse.97 Breaking religious vows or marriage vows fell into the same category, though Henry did not equate them with murder.98 In this light, the mortal sin of slander appears in even starker relief, the killing of one’s soul and potentially the souls of others as well. Yet not all killing was murder and Henry made numerous distinctions. He began by asserting that just killing was such when a judge justly sentenced a condemned criminal to death, for “such killing is not a sin, but even is able to be meritorious if it is the done with the love of justice and for the preservation of the common good of the state.”99 It would though be murder if the judge sentences one to death out of vindictiveness or simply for the pleasure of it.100 Killing in self-​defense is also not a sin, though one must be sure that there was no other means of preserving one’s life, because if there had been, one would still be guilty of the mortal sin of murder, and the same applies if one did so to save one’s temporal goods.101 Likewise, if one throws a rock or a javelin in sport and in doing so accidentally kills someone, the person who threw the object would be guilty of murder, though if it was purely an accidental occurrence without intent, one would not be guilty. A similar case would be if one cut 95

“Vnde tale homicidium est periculosissimum quia est contagiosum: serpit enim de uno in alium et letaliter inficit omnes illos in quos venenum ipsius detractionis diffunditur.” Hen. De dec. precept. 5 (ed. Guyot, 101,223–​226). 96 Saak, Luther and the Reformation of the Later Middle Ages, 207–​210. 97 Hen. De dec. precept. 2 (ed. Guyot, 42,91–​102). 98 Hen. De dec. precept. 2 (ed. Guyot, 38–​55). 99 “… ut cum iudex reum iuste condempnat uel minister taliter dampnatum occidit; et tale homicidium non est peccatum, immo potest esse meritorium si fiat amore iustitie et pro conseruatione boni communis rei publice.” Hen. De dec. precept. 5 (ed. Guyot, 91,15–​18). 100 Hen. De dec. precept. 5 (ed. Guyot, 91,18–​92,22). 101 Hen. De dec. precept. 5 (ed. Guyot, 91,40–​92,60).

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down a tree for legitimate purposes, but the tree fell by accident on someone and killed them. One would not in such an event be guilty of murder, unless negligence had been involved.102 Commanding someone to kill someone else, or urging them to do so, as Pilate ordered Jesus’ death, was likewise murder,103 though killing someone who was about to kill someone else in defending the victim is licit, providing it is not done in a matter of taking justice into one’s own hands.104 This same casuistic approach Henry took in treating each of the commandments, for each commandment included far more than one might think based on the prescription or proscription alone. Such renders Henry’s treatise an epitome of moral theology. His readers were to be taught that their actions had consequences and Henry offered his work to instruct his readers how they should live. The legalistic and moralistic tone predominates in Henry’s work, but we have to recognize as well that Henry’s point of departure was that humans’ ability to keep the commandments was a gift of God’s grace, and he also ended his work with a practical guide for helping his readers follow the commandments and thereby gain eternal blessedness. There are, Henry explained, three most powerful means of keeping one’s mind pure: first, one should guard one’s interior and exterior senses; second, one should remain fervent and devoted in prayer; and third, one should meditate on Christ’s Passion, so that one could feel Christ’s wounds.105 In doing so, one could love the Ten Commandments and keep them, to the extent possible, as the means, in this life, of overcoming the detrimental effect of the Fall. Behind Henry’s work was a very Augustinian conception of grace and salvation, even given the emphasis on morals and works, and Augustine provided Henry with the frame of his moral theology. The most frequently cited source in Henry’s De decem preceptis was Scripture. The authority of Scripture was followed by references to canonistic sources, Gratian’s Decretum and the Decretals. Since the text Henry was expositing was the Decalogue, a legal text, there should be no surprise here regarding the prevalence of legal authorities cited.106

1 02 Hen. De dec. precept. 5 (ed. Guyot, 93,61–​94,72). 103 Hen. De dec. precept. 5 (ed. Guyot, 95,83–​96,121). 104 Hen. De dec. precept. 5 (ed. Guyot, 97,122–​99,168). 105 Hen. De dec. precept. 10 (ed. Guyot, 182,185–​183,225). 106 For the following Tables, I have not tabulated Scripture citations or citations to the Glossa Ordinaria. I have tabulated Henry’s actual citations, not necessarily the source he used. Guyot’s excellent index and notes give a more thorough account. Here I am noting how Henry explicitly cited authorities, not tabulating what he was actually citing. For example, in De dec. precept. 7 Henry cited the Digest, but Guyot was not able to find the reference

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Henry’s citation of legal sources

Authority Decretum Decretals Digest Hostiensis Iohannes (Johannes Teutonicus) Bernardus Innocentius (Pope Innocent iv) Codex Guillelmus Redonensis Gaufredus Wilhelmus Raimundus Secundum iura et canones Institutes

Frequency of citation 61 37 14 13 11 9 8 6 5 3 3 2 2 1

But after Scripture and legal sources, the next most frequently cited authority was Augustine. Henry cited the Decretum sixty-​one times and the Decretals thirty-​seven times, whereas he cited Augustine fifty-​two times. The next most frequently cited authorities of all types (excluding Scripture) were the Digest with fourteen citations, Hostiensis with thirteen, Johannes Teutonicus with eleven and then Gregory the Great with ten. Aside from Scripture, the Decretum and the Decretals, Henry cited Augustine at least four times as often as any other source of any type, as seen in Table 8. These are Henry’s explicit citations of authorities whether or not they are correct, and Henry was not infrequently less than precise. Thus Henry cited Ambrose as unde dicit Ambrosius though the citation was taken from the Decretum dist. 86, c. 2,107 and Henry appealed to the authority of Anselm claiming “… as is clear from Anselm in a certain treatise he wrote on slander” though the reference has not been found.108 Yet at times Henry was precise, also with (Guyot, 141,312); in De dec. precept. 5, Henry cited Basil, but most likely took the reference from Thomas Aquinas’ Summa ii-​i i q. 32, a. 5, ad 2 (Guyot, 104,295–​300). 107 Hen. De dec. precept. 5 (ed. Guyot, 102,251–​252). 108 “… quod patet per Anshelmum in quodam tractatu quem fecit de detractione sic dicentem …” Hen. De dec. precept. 5 (ed. Guyot, 102,236–​237).

378  table 8

Chapter 6 Henry’s non-​legal authorities

Authority Augustine Gregory the Great Bernard of Clairvaux Doctores Ambrose Anselm Aristotle Azo Isidore Jerome Albert the Great Hugh of St. Victor Philosophi Seneca Basil Beatus Erhardus Chrysostom Eusebius Hugh of St. Cher Innocent iii John xxii Peter Lombard Secundum certiorem opinionem Thomas Aquinas

Frequency 52 10 9 8 6 6 6 6 3 3 2 2 2 2 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1

Anselm when he cited Anselm’s Cur deus homo book two, which is indeed the reference.109 Not infrequently Henry cited an authority and explicitly noted that it was also in the Decretum.110 He also used other intermediate sources that remained uncited, such as his two citations of Seneca, one of which was 109 “Ad hoc respondet Anshelmus secundo libro Cur Deus homo” Hen. De dec. precept. 2 (ed. Guyot, 53,300). 110 E.g.: “… prout notauit Ieronimus 11 q. 2 ‘Animaduertendum’.” Hen. De dec. precept. 2 (ed. Guyot, 42,89–​90).

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most likely taken from Augustine’s De civitate dei and the other from Thomas of Ireland’s Manipulus Florum, though the original reference is to the Pseudo-​ Senecan De moribus liber.111 Henry was no more precise in his Augustine citations. Two of the fifty-​two citations to Augustine Henry explicitly noted were in the Decretum.112 Only thirteen times did Henry cite a specific work of Augustine, but even here he was not always accurate and often took his reference from an intermediate source, as detailed in Table 9. Thirty-​six of Henry’s citations of Augustine were simply in the form of secundum Augustinum or variations. Of these thirty-​six non-​specific citations, Guyot identified only nine as stemming directly from a work of Augustine. These were De libero arbitrio 3, 25; De trinitate 12, 12, 18; Quaestines in Heptateuchum 2; De catechizandis rudibus 4; De civitate dei 22, 30; sermo 107; and Epistulae 93, 153 and 155. Another seven citations may have come directly from a work of Augustine but there is insufficient textual evidence to make such a determination. If they were indeed a direct reference, then Henry knew, in addition to those references just listed, Quaestiones in Heptateuchum 2, 71; Enchiridion 3 (two citations); the Pseudo-​Augustinian De vera et falsa penitentia 18; sermo 162; and Epistulae 21 and 245. Seven unspecific citations to Augustine were most likely taken from the Decretum, one from Thomas of Ireland’s Manipulus Florum and one from Lombard’s Sentences. Twice Henry cited Augustine, but did so incorrectly as one reference was actually a reference to Romans 3:8, while the other came from Albert the Great. Nine of the thirty-​six non-​specific Augustine citations Guyot could not identify at all, and were simply noted as non invenitur. In short, Henry did not display a source erudition with respect to Augustine that would become the hallmark of his younger confrères. Moreover, Henry did not give evidence of a broad knowledge of Augustine’s works and 17.3% of all his citations of Augustine (9 of 52) could not be identified in the works of Augustine, nor in intermediary sources, including the Decretum, the Decretals, Lombard’s Sentences, the Glossa Ordinaria, the works of Thomas Aquinas and Thomas of Ireland’s Manipulus Florum. One can only wonder if Henry simply

111 Hen. De dec. precept. 3 (ed. Guyot, 62,147–​148); Hen. De dec. precept. 9 (ed. Guyot, 171,125–​128). 112 “… ut patet per decretum Augustini quod ponitur De consecratione dist. 4.” Hen. De dec. precept. 1 (ed. Guyot, 26,133–​134); “… et Augustinus 23 q. 3 can. ultimo dicit …” Hen. De dec. precept. 5 (ed. Guyot, 97,140); this last citation Guyot notes is found in the Decretum C. 23 q. 3 c. 11 and is attributed to Augustine there, though it is not found in Augustine’s works, but in the Glossa Ordinaria on Ps. 81:4.

380  table 9

Chapter 6 Henry’s specific citations of Augustine

Augustine’s work as cited

Reference in De dec. precpt.

Liber de uidendo deum et etiam ad Paulinum (ep. 147) Liber de singularitate clericorum

Hen. De dec. preecpt. Proh. (ed. Guyot, 9,133–​134) Hen. De dec. precept. Proh. (ed. Guyot, 12,196–​199)

De civitate dei

Hen. De dec. precept. 1 (ed. Guyot, 29,189)

Liber de decem chordis (s. 9) verbum Augustinum supra positum de decem cordis xii Super Genesim (Gn. litt. 11, 18) De opere monachorum (op. mon. 21) iv libro De doctrina Christiana (doctr. Chr. 1, 28) xii De Trinitate (trin. 12, 12, 18) De mendacio (mend. 14)

Hen. De dec. precept. 3 (ed. Guyot, 62,141–​147) Hen. De dec. precept. 3 (ed. Guyot, 63,169)

De uera religione Questionibus super Gensim (qu. 1, 26) Contra mendacium (mend. 5) De libero Arbitrio

Likely intermediate source

Ps.Augustine; cf. Thomas of Ireland, Manipulus Florum, ‘Mulier’ Closer to Damascenus, De fide orthodoxa iv c. 89

Hen. De dec. precept. 5 (ed. Guyot, 100,188–​189) Hen. De dec. precept. 5 (ed. Guyot, 107,349–​353) Hen. De dec. precept. 5 Probably via Thomas, (ed. Guyot, 108,377–​379) Summa ii-​i i q. 32 a. 9 resp. Hen. De dec. precept. 6 (ed. Guyot, 121,200–​201) Hen. De dec. precept. 8 (ed. Guyot, 155,72–​73) Hen. De dec. precept. 8 via Decretum C. 22 q. 2 (ed. Guyot, 157,110) c. 22 Hen. De dec. precept. 8 via Decretum C. 22 q. 2 (ed. Guyot, 157,110–​112) c. 22 Hen. De dec. precept. 8 via Thomas, Summa ii-​ (ed. Guyot, 157,115–​117) ii q. 110 a. 3 ad 3 Hen. De dec. precept. not in Augustine; via 9 (ed. Guyot, Manipulus Florum 167,44–​168,47) ‘Avaritia’

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made them up, feeling a need to cite an authority, or perhaps he felt he knew the reference was from Augustine but did not want to take the time to find it, or realized perhaps that he couldn’t. Yet in many ways this is the point that should be emphasized: Henry cited Augustine at times seemingly irrespectively to any identifiable source, or cited Augustine rather than the direct source he in fact was using, or even in the one case citing Augustine rather than Paul’s letter to the Romans from which he was paraphrasing if not quoting.113 It is not so much Henry’s accuracy and erudition with respect to his citations that should be stressed, but how he constructed his appeals to authority and the place Augustine was given therein. Henry wanted his readers to know that for understanding the Ten Commandments, after Scripture and Canon Law, Augustine was the most important authority, equal in fact to canonical sources, for only Scripture and the Decretum were sources Henry cited more often than Augustine. 2.3 De Quattuor Instinctibus The second most popular, or at least most wide-​spread, work of Henry’s after De decem preceptis was his De quattuor instinctibus, extant in at least 150 manuscripts and four early printed editions. In addition, there are thirty-​nine extant manuscripts of German and early Dutch translations.114 The dating of the work offers no conclusive information. In many of the manuscripts Henry is designated as magister, which would place the composition sometime after his promotion in 1305, and his death in 1340 provides the terminus ante quem, yet there is no concrete evidence that Henry was already a master when he wrote it, so that Zumkeller concludes that the only certain thing we can say is that it was composed sometime between c. 1300 and 1340.115 Yet there seems to be a close relationship between Henry’s Tractatus de quattuor instinctibus and his Tractatus de adventu domini in mentem, based on textual parellels.116 His

113 “… quia secundum Augustinum non sunt facienda mala ut eueniant queque bona.” Hen. De dec. precept. 8 (ed. Guyot, 156,103–​104); Vulgata Romans 3:8: et non (sicut blasphemamur, et sicut aiunt quidam nos dicere) faciamus mala ut veniant bona: quorum damnatio justa est. 114 See Henricus de Frimaria, Tractatus de quattuor instinctibus, ed. A. Zumkeller and Robert G. Aarnock, Der Traktat Heinrichs von Friemar über die Unterscheiden der Geister. Lateinisch-​mittelhochdeutsche Textausgabe mit Untersuchungen (Würzburg, 1977); hereafter cited as Hen. Quatt. inst. For a discussion of the vernacular transmission of Henry’s treatise, see Hen. Quatt. inst. Intro. (ed. Warnack and Zumkeller, 39–​145). 115 Hen. Quatt. inst. Intro. (ed. Warnack and Zumkeller, 29). 116 Hen. Quatt. inst. Intro. (ed. Zumkeller, 27–​28).

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Tactatus de adventu domini in mentem had been composed by 1309, based on the explicit date of the Erlangen manuscript of the work.117 Yet such parallels do not allow a conclusion regarding which treatise had been composed first. Nevertheless, it is most likely that Henry’s Tractatus de quattuor instinctibus was composed during the same period as his Tractatus de adventu domini in mentem, namely sometime between c. 1306 and c. 1309 or shortly thereafter, which would place the composition during Henry’s regency in Paris. In any event, though we cannot confirm definitively an early dating of the work, based on the evidence we do have an early date of composition seems far more likely than a later date. Henry’s Tractatus de quattuor instinctibus lays out how one should go about “discerning the spirits,” and was the first such treatise on this theme in the Middle Ages.118 Henry began with the parable of the sower, whose seeds fell in various places, producing various yields, with the seed that fell in the good soil producing a hundred-​fold. He then likened the sower to Christ sowing the seed of the Word of God, noting that such sowing can be interpreted as the external sowing or as the internal. Since, according to Henry, the internal sowing of the seed is more useful, more rare, and more profound, he decided to focus on the internal sowing of the seed in humans’ interior instincts, also because such had been rarely elucidated by the doctors of truth.119 There are, Henry explained, four interior instincts: the divine, the angelic, the diabolical, and the natural, and the difference between them is not easy to comprehend for Satan often appears as an “angel of light” and what is often thought to be a inspiration of grace is actually simply a natural human instinct.120 Thus is it “necessary for each and every human wanting to live rightly that they recognize the difference of these instincts.”121 The light of grace and the light of nature both claim that God is to be loved above all things, but knowing from which instinct that inclination comes is difficult since one can never really know, citing Ecclesiastes 9:1 whether one is worthy of God’s love or hate and whether one’s acts stem from the instigation of the light of grace or from one’s own human natural light.122 1 17 Hen. Quatt. inst. Intro. (ed. Zumkeller, 29). 118 Hen. Quatt. inst. Intro. (ed. Zumkeller, 34). See also Wendy Love Anderson, The Discernment of Spirits. Assessing Visions and Visionaries in the Late Middle Ages, Spätmittelalter, Humanismus, Reformation 62 (Tübingen, 2011). 119 Hen. Quatt. inst. Prol. (ed. Zumkeller, 152,4–​10). 120 Hen. Quatt. inst. Prol. (ed. Zumkeller, 152,11–​19). 121 “Propter quod apparet necessarium cuilibet homini recte vivere cupienti, ut istorum instinctuum differentiam agnoscat.” Hen. Quatt. inst. Prol. (ed. Zumkeller, 152,16–​17). 122 Hen. Quatt. inst. Prol. (ed. Zumkeller, 152,20–​154,28).

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Henry treated the four instincts in the four chapters of his treatise respectively. Chapter four, treating the natural instincts, is twice as long as chapter three dealing with the diabolical, five times as long as chapter two and almost four times as long as chapter one.123 The natural instinct is the most difficult and, as Henry argued, “is to be avoided most of all, because the natural instinct excessively fights dangerously against the man wanting to make progress spiritually.”124 The danger is that natural instincts often can appear as being divine instincts as they can be so similar. One sign of their difference is that the natural instinct encourages humans to seek knowledge of disparate things without working to see how they all form a unity,125 and leads to a haughty and prideful self-​estimation and complacency, whereas the divine instinct leads one regardless of how much progress one has made to always expunge one’s prideful self-​estimation.126 Indeed, the divine instinct always leads one away from one’s own self-​importance to focus on Christ and God as the highest good.127 To do so, the divine instinct leads one away from exteriors and into one’s own interior self, seeking to discover the intimate truth of one’s heart,128 whereas the diabolical instinct leads one to evil,129 contrary to the examples of Christ and the saints,130 exalting in one’s own will, excellence, and great reputation;131 the divine instinct leads one into one’s own self where God resides, whereas the diabolical instinct leads one away from oneself, towards externals.132 The natural instinct for Henry though was not a neutral concept; he was not dealing with what is “purely” human, but rather with humans in their fallen state, having suffered the effects of originals sin, thus adopting a point of departure very much in keeping with his Order’s theological tradition and with Augustine himself.133 Not surprisingly, perhaps, Augustine is the most frequently cited authority after Scripture, though Henry did not appeal to authorities in this work as often

1 23 Chapter 4 has 510 lines; ­chapter 3, 250 lines; ­chapter 2, 102 lines; and ­chapter 1, 135 lines. 124 “Quartus instinctus dicitur naturalis. Qui summopere est vitandus, quia nimis periculose impugnat hominem spiritualiter proficere cupientem.” Hen. Quatt. inst. 4 (ed. Zumkeller, 194,3–​4). 125 Hen. Quatt. inst. 4 (ed. Zumkeller, 198,32–​34). 126 Hen. Quatt. inst. 4 (ed. Zumkeller, 198,55–​200,61. 127 Hen. Quatt. inst. 1 (ed. Zumkeller, 154,5–​156,28). 128 Hen. Quatt. inst. 1 (ed. Zumkeller, 160,79–​81). 129 Hen. Quatt. inst. 3 (ed. Zumkeller, 174,3–​6). 130 Hen. Quatt. inst. 3 (ed. Zumkeller, 176,12–​13). 131 Hen. Quatt. inst. 3 (ed. Zumkeller, 178,32–​48). 132 Hen. Quatt. inst. 3 (ed. Zumkeller, 182,91–​102). 133 Hen. Quatt. inst. Intro. (ed. Zumkeller, 33).

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as he did in his De decem preceptis. Augustine is cited eleven times, followed then by Bernard with four citations, and then Gregory the Great, Pseudo-​ Dionysius, and the Legenda Aurea with one each. The Confessiones is the most frequently cited work of Augustine, with three citations, and Henry cites as authentic two Pseudo-​Augustinian works, the De singularitate clericorum and a Sermo de familiaritate mulierum. Augustine provided Henry with the frame of his treatise, giving a clear Augustinian stamp to his work on the interior instincts and their role in moral life, as he had as well in his De decem preceptis. As his Order’s regent master in Paris, Henry not only held his Questiones ordinarie and his Quodlibet and commented on Aristotle’s Ethics, but also treated the moral life of the Christian precisely because Christians had to be taught, and in doing so, Henry was following in the footsteps of his Order’s father and founder, who himself had been a bishop, ministering to the people at large. Both Henry’s Tractatus de quattuor instinctibus and his Tractatus de adventu dei in mentem deal with the internal life of the soul, for which Augustine served as both the subtext and the intertext. The same applies as well to Henry’s Tractatus de septem gradibus amoris, composed roughly at the same time as his Tractatus de quattuor instinctibus and his Tractatus de adventu dei in mentem. Here Henry set as his point of departure Psalm 84:5, Blessed are those whose strength is in you, whose hearts are set on pilgrimage (niv),134 to claim that “In these words the glorious father and illustrious teacher Augustine displayed for us the rule of our direction and the form of all types of perfection.”135 Augustine himself, or “father St. Augustine,” as Henry put it, was the glorious man (vir gloriosus) of the psalm, who set his paths to the height of perfection in his own heart, wherefore he was truly blessed “because he was eternally loved by God, so that the light of his own teaching might illuminate the holy Church and defend the Catholic faith with the sword of the Word of God against heretics.”136 In all three works, namely, in his Tractatus de septem gradibus amoris, his Tractatus de adventu dei in mentem, and his Tractatus de quattuor instinctibus, Henry cited Confessiones 12,16,23: “I entered into my

134 Ps 83:6 in the Vulgate: Beatus vir, cuius est auxilium abs te, ascensiones in corde suo disposuit. Hen. Sept. grad. Proem (ed. Zumkeller, 51,4–​5). 135 “In verbis propositis gloriosus pater et inclitus doctor Augustinus nobis proponitur in regulam nostrae directionis et in formam omnimodae perfectionis.” Hen. Sept. grad. Proem (ed. Zumkeller, 51,5–​8). 136 “Propter quod est sciendum, quod iste vir gloriosus, qui ascensiones ad culmen perfectionis in corde suo disposuit, est inclitus pater sanctus Augustinus. Qui bene dicitur ‘vir’, qui semper virilem animum habuit et vigore virtutis viguit in omni virtutum exercitio se viriliter excercendo. Qui etiam recte dicitur ‘beatus’, quia fuit a deo aeternaliter dilectus,

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chamber singing songs of love and I did not cease until I became perfectly at peace.”137 As Henry explained in his Tractatus de quattuor instinctibus, it is in the repose of being alone with God in the chambers of one’s mind that one can experience “the embrace of divine love and the taste of the flowing honey of divine sweetness.”138 Henry concluded his Tractatus de septem gradibus amoris the way he had begun, with Augustine, calling on his authority, though this time quoting from the Pseudo-​Augustinian Manuale, for Augustine had experienced the highest grade of love when he said: “Nothing delights me except to speak about you, to listen to you, to confer with you, to frequently ruminate on your glory in my heart,”139 a version of which he cited as well in his Tractatus de adventu dei in mentem: “I consider nothing sweet except to talk about you, to listen to you, to meditate on you and to delight in you alone.”140 Augustine

137

138 139 140

ut lumine suae doctrinae sanctam Ecclesiam illustraret et fidem catholicam gladio Verbi Dei contra haereticos defensaret.” Hen. Sept. grad. Proem (ed. Zumkeller, 51,22–​52,29). “Quod bene senserat Augustinus, cum dixit duodecimo Confessionum cap. 16: ‘Intrem in cubile meum et cantem tibi amatoria cantica et non avertar, donec in perfecta pace fiam,’ per amplexum divinae caritatis et per gustum mellifluum divinae suavitatis.” Hen. Quatt. inst. 4 (ed. Zumkeller, 216,265–​269); cf. Henricus de Frimaria, oesa, Tractatus de septem gradibus amoris 6, ed. A. Zumkeller, Henrici de Frimaria O.S.A. Tractatus ascetico-​mystici, vol. 2 (Rome, 1992), ed. Zumkeller, 81,99–​105); hereafter cited as: Hen. Sept. grad.; Henricus de Frimaria, oesa, Tractatus de adventu dei in mentem, 1,2, ed. A. Zumkeller, Henrici de Frimaria Tractatus ascetico-​mystici., vol. 1 (Würzburg, 1975), 21,168–​176; hereafter cited as: Hen. in mentem; cf. Aug. conf. 12,26, 23. Augustine was referencing Mt. 6:6 here. “… per amplexum divinae caritatis et per gustum mellifluum divinae suavitatis.” Hen. Quatt. inst. 4 (ed. Zumkeller, 216,268–​269). … ut supra patuit per Augustinum. Quem gradum Augustinus perfecte fuerat assecutus, cum diceret: ‘Nihil me delectat nisi de te loqui, de te audire, de te conferre, tuam gloriam in corede meo frequenter revolvere.’ ” Hen. Sept. grad. 7 (ed. Zumkeller, 90,145–​148). “Hunc motum gratiae sensit Augustinus, cum diceret: ‘Nihil mihi dulce reputo nisi de te loqui, de te audire, de te meditari et in te solummod delectari.” Hen. in mentem 1,1 (ed. Zumkeller, 9,71–​73). Neither of these quotations of Henry’s correspond exactly to the text of the Manuale: “Nunc adesto mihi, Deus meus, quem quaero, quem diligo, quem corde et ore confiteor, et qua valeo virtute laudo atque adoro. Mens mea devota tibi, tuo amore succensa, tibi suspirans, tibi inhians, te solum videre desiderans, nihil habet dulce, nisi de te loqui, de te audire, de te scribere, de te conferre, tuam gloriam frequenter sub corde revolvere, ut tua suavis memoria sit inter hos turbines aliqua repausatio mea. Te ergo invoco, desiderantissime, ad te clamo clamore magno in toto corde meo. Et cum te invoco, utique te in me ipso invoco; quoniam omnino non essem, nisi tu esses in me; et nisi ego essem in te, non esses in me. In me es, quoniam in memoria mea manes: ex ea cognovi te, et in ea invenio te, cum reminiscor tui, et delector in te de te, ex quo omnia, per quem omnia, et in quo omnia.” Ps.Aug. Manuale, Praef., pl 40, 951. Zumkeller is though correct in his identification, for this passage lay behind both of Henry’s quotations, which he seemingly was quoting from memory. This is a prime example of how Henry quoted Augustine.

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was the model of the interior life, which was, for Henry, essential to understand and to cultivate if one wanted to live a moral life, a Christian life, and a blessed life. While Henry was commenting on Aristotle’s Ethics and determining scholastic questions, he was simultaneously composing treatises on the moral Christian life and the inner life of the soul, taking Augustine as his model and his authority, in forming and shaping the appropriation of Augustine for his Order as the outstanding theologian of the Church and the teacher of the moral life of the soul. Based on his appropriation of Augustine, Henry constructed a moral theology that was deeply Augustinian, recreating thereby, at least in part, Augustine’s Christian cultural ethic. It was an endeavor he would continue after he left Paris and returned to Erfurt. And in doing so, was not alone.

­c hapter 7

Hermann of Schildesche Joining Henry at Erfurt, at least for a time, was Henry’s contemporary and fellow lector at Erfurt, Hermann of Schildesche. Hermann is even less known than Henry, though his textual production was prodigious, and his works reveal the scope of the Augustinians’ mendicant theology. 1

Brother Hermann

Hermann of Schildesche, or de Schildiz, was born on 8 September, probably in 1298 or 1299, in the bishopric of Paderborn. The information about his life is scant.1 What we can say is that he most likely entered the oesa in 1313 or 1314 in Herford, and then shortly thereafter moved to Osnabrück. In 1320, Hermann was referenced as the lector principalis in the Order’s studium generale in Magdeburg, though we do not know when he received the degree of lector,2 or whether he did so at Paris or at another studium generale of the Order. By 1324 Hermann was lector in Erfurt, together with Henry of Friemar and Jordan of Quedlinburg, and Hermann used Henry’s Tractatus de occultatione vitiorum sub specie virtutum for his own Tractatus de vitiis capitalibus duplex.3 Later that year, at the General Chapter meeting in Montpellier, Hermann, who presided at the General Chapter as the vicar of the Prior General, was to be sent to Paris the following year to continue his studies and lecturing on the Bible, but this seems not to have taken place since at the General Chapter of Florence in 1326 Hermann was to be sent to Paris to read the Sentences. Zumkeller speculates that Hermann may have received a papal exemption allowing him to proceed directly to the Sentences since there is no evidence that Hermann became a baccalaureus biblicus. However, Hermann’s call to Paris was postponed, for rather than Hermann, Johannes von Vischenegge was sent to Paris. From August of 1328 until the end of September 1329, Hermann was lector in 1 I am following here Zumkeller’s account given in Adolar Zumkeller, Schriftum und Lehre des Hermann von Schildesche, Cassiciacum 15 (Würzburg, 1959), 1–​3; hereafter cited as Zumkeller, Schriftum. 2 For the “degree” of lector, see Saak, High Way to Heaven, 253–​256, 370–​382. 3 Zumkeller, Manuscripte, n. 316, 138; cf. Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 398, 194–​195. Zumkeller lists five extant manuscripts of Hermann’s treatise, and sixty-​five manuscripts for Henry’s.

© Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, 2022 | DOI:10.1163/9789004504707_012

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his home cloister of Herford, and only at the General Chapter of Paris in 1329 was he finally approved to progress to read the Sentences at Paris the following year. Hermann held his lectures on the Sentences either during the academic year 1330–​1331, or 1331–​1332, for which he may have received a further exemption from the regulations since according to the stipulated progress, after the lectorate one needed to have studied at Paris for an additional five years before becoming a baccalaureus biblicus and then for another two years before one could proceed to read the Sentences, and only four more years thereafter could one incept as magister.4 Hermann is referenced as baccalaureus in the summer of 1332. He may have spent some time after his lectures on the Sentences at Cologne, but he was magister by 28 August 1334 when he gave a sermon on St. Augustine at the Parisian cloister. The next firm date we have for Hermann is his election as prior provincial of the Saxon-​Thuringian province of the oesa in 1337, an office he held until 1339. We have no information on Hermann’s whereabouts or activities from after his sermon in Paris on St. Augustine in 1334 and his election as provincial prior. We can assume though that he returned to the Saxon-​Thuringian province and was teaching most likely either in Erfurt or in Magdeburg. Thereafter, in 1340, Hermann moved to Würzburg, where he served as general vicar and penitentiary of the bishop of Würzburg. Hermann stayed in Würzburg until his death in 1357. Hermann’s time in Würzburg was his most productive as an author, though his theological output had already begun during his Erfurt years. 2

Theological Production

Hermann authored thirty-​two works that can be authenticated, though eighteen of these are no longer extant. Of these thirty-​two works, twenty can be dated with varying degrees of precision, as in Table 10. Further, there are twelve additional authenticated works of Hermann that are no longer extant and cannot be dated with any degree of specificity.5 These works are listed in Table 11. 4 Saak, High Way to Heaven, 376–​377. 5 There are, however, possibly a couple of fragments from the two collections of sermons that may have been originally from these collections, as may have been Hermann’s sermon on St. Augustine listed above, though the collections themselves are not extant, or have not been identified. Zumkeller also lists the spurious or doubtful works of Hermann that were at some point attributed to him, but seem to be spurious; see Zumkeller, Schriftum, 146–​152. In addition, the Opus Quadragesimale de mansionibus that Zumkeller argued was most likely an authentic work of Hermann based on Jordan’s listing, should also, in my view, be placed in

Hermann of Schildesche389 table 10

Hermann’s dated authenticated works

Date

Title

mss and printed editions

Reference

1325–​1327

Tractatus de dignitate et principis iuris canonici Tractatus contra haereticos negantes immunitatem et iurisdictionem sanctae ecclesiae

No longer extant

Zumkeller, Schriftum, 134–​135.

1327 to early1332

Ed. Zumkeller, Zumkeller, Hermannus Schriftum, 135–​143 de Schildis, Tractatus contra Haereticos negantes Immunitatem et Iurisdictionem Sanctae Ecclesiae. Ed. Adolar Zumkeller. Hermanni de Scildis, O.S.A. Tractatus contra haereticos negantes immunitatem et iurisdictionem sanctae Ecclesieae et Tractatus de conception gloriosae virginis Mariae. Würzburg, 1970, 2–​108

the spurious or doubtful category as the only evidence for this work, aside from Jordan, are manuscripts that contain a similar work by the Augustinian Hermann de Lapide dated to c. 1365; see Zumkeller, Schriftum, 132–​134. There are, however, two anonymous manuscripts that contain a work with a similar title as well, but no attribution is given. While Hermann’s Opus Quadragesimale may well have been genuine, and may still be identified at some point, based on what we know at this time it seems to me best to include it in the spurious or doubtful category.

390  table 10

Date

Chapter 7 Hermann’s dated authenticated works (cont.)

Title

mss and printed editions

Reference

1330–​ In Primum 1331 or Sententiarum 1331–​1332 1330–​1335 Tractatus de vitiis capitalibus duplex

No longer extant

Zumkeller, Schriftum, 6.

5 mss

Zumkeller, Schriftum, 58–​ 67; Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 398, 194–​195. Zumkeller, Schriftum, 88–​ 95; Zumkeller, Manuskripte, nr. 385. 183–​184. Zumkeller, Schriftum, 113–​ 128; Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 395,194. Zumkeller, Schriftum, 101–​ 113; Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 387, 185–​186.

Early 1330s Introductorium Iuris 41 mss

1334

Sermo de beato Augustino

1 ms

1342–​1343 Tractatus contra 7 mss Leonistas seu pauperes de Lugduno et eorum sequaces, dicentes messae compartaionem esse speciem simoniae 1334–​1349 Postilla super 1 ms Cantica

Zumkeller, Schriftum, 6–​ 9; Zumkeller, “Wiedergefundene exegetische Werke

391

Hermann of Schildesche table 10

Date

Hermann’s dated authenticated works (cont.)

Title

c.1340

mss and printed editions

Tractatus de ordine studendi pro iuvenibus c. 1340 Divisio metrica ac generalis descriptio totius philosophiae ac omnium artium/​ De divisione philosophiae tractatus metricus c. 1340 Quod clerus quoad personas et bona sustentationis sui status sit exemptus a iurisdictione et iudicio laicorum 1347–​1349 Expositio Dominice Orationis duplex, secundum Mattheum et Marcum

Non longer extant; 2 mss contain contents 2 mss

1347–​1349 Expositio super Ave Maria 1325–​1350 Breviloquium de expositione Missae

No longer extant

Reference Hermanns von Schildesche,” Augustinianum 1 (1961), 236–​ 272; Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 378, 180. Zumkeller, Schriftum, 84–​88. Zumkeller, Schriftum, 128–​ 132; Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 390, 186–​187.

1 mss; perhaps extract from Tractatus contra haereticos, Part iii

Zumkeller, Schriftum, 143–​ 146; Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 381, 181.

2 mss

Zumkeller, Schriftum, 9–​ 11; Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 388, 186. Zumkeller, Schriftum, 9–​11. Zumkeller, Schriftum, 11–​ 23; Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 386, 185.

1 ms

392  table 10

Chapter 7 Hermann’s dated authenticated works (cont.)

Date

Title

mss and printed editions

Reference

c. 1345

Speculum Manuale sacerdotum

148 mss and at least 9 incunablua editions

Zumkeller, Schriftum, 40–​ 58; Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 391, 187–​193. Zumkeller, Schriftum, 23–​ 40; Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 392, 193. Zumkeller, Schriftum, 98–​99. Zumkeller, Schriftum, 67–​ 78; Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 380, 181. Zumkeller, Schriftum, 100.

1345–​1350 Compendium de quattuor sensibus sacrae scripturae

5 mss

1349–​1357 Tractatus de decem praeceptis 1347–​1349 Claustrum Animae

No longer extant

c. 1349

No longer extant

c. 1350

Tractatus contra errores Flagellatorum Tractatus de conceptione beatae Mariae virginis

2 mss

3 mss; 1640 edition; critical edition Zumkeller (see above under Tractatus contra Haereticos).

Zumkeller, Schriftum, 78–​83; edition Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 382, 181–​182.

393

Hermann of Schildesche table 11

Hermann’s authentic works no longer extant

Title

Reference

Collationes Praedicabiles per circulum anni de materia canticorum Operum sex dierum duplex Tractatus de sensibus sacrae scripturae extensus cum fundamentis et regulis suis Scriptum super Rhetoricorum Tractatus de vera et falsa amicitia Tractatus de compensatione dominicarum poenarum cum horis canonis De quinque sensibus Lectura super Decretalem omnis utriusque sexus Postilla super Genesim Sermones multi ad clerum Sermones multi ad populum et ad personas subtiles Diversae Quaestiones sine numero et ordine

Zumkeller, Schriftum, 9. Zumkeller, Schriftum, 67. Zumkeller, Schriftum, 95–​96. Zumkeller, Schriftum, 97. Zumkeller, Schriftum, 97. Zumkeller, Schriftum, 97. Zumkeller, Schriftum, 100. Zumkeller, Schriftum, 100. Zumkeller, Schriftum, 100. Zumkeller, Schriftum, 113–​117. Zumkeller, Schriftum, 113–​117. Zumkeller, Schriftum, 128.

Five works Hermann published as a lector, before he became a magister, and these early works included one of his most widely-​spread, his Introductorium Iuris, a “popular dictionary of both laws,” as Zumkeller called it,6 and an important work for the reception of Roman Law,7 though it has not been studied since the late nineteenth century.8 Hermann’s interest in law is clear, with his first published work, no longer extant, having been a treatise on Canon Law, and a lost work that is undatable consisting apparently of lectures on the 6 “… ein populares Worterbuch beider Rechte …” Zumkeller, Schriftum, 88. 7 Zumkeller, Schriftum, 90–​91. 8 E. Seckel, Beiträge zur Geschichte beider Rechte im Mittelalter I: Zur Geschichte der populären Literatur des römisch-​canonischen Rechtes (Tübingen, 1898), 129–​221, 503–​507, as cited by Zumkeller, Schriftum, 88, n. 274.

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decretal Omnis utriusque sexus. There is no evidence that Hermann had studied law, but his knowledge of law is clear in his works, where Hermann often cited canonical sources extensively. In addition to legal works, Hermann’s theological production focused as well on biblical and pastoral theology, including catechetical works on the Lord’s Prayer, the Ave Maria, and the Ten Commandments, though these works too are no longer extant.9 As mentioned above, John of Basel cited Hermann’s Postilla in Cantica in his lectures on the Sentences and did so as an authority, who, together with Henry of Friemar, was a doctor well respected in the Augustinian school.10 If we define Augustinian theology historically as the theology of the Augustinians, Hermann’s works are as representative of late medieval Augustinian theology as are his Order’s university theologians, and in so many ways are even more so. In this light, I focus on three examples of his work to attempt to reveal in more depth the boundaries and character of Augustinian theology in the later Middle Ages. Tractatus Contra Haereticos Negantes Immunitatem et Iurisdictionem Sanctae Ecclesiae One of Hermann’s earliest works was his Treatise Against the Heretics Denying the Immunity and Jurisdiction of the Holy Church. Extant in only one manuscript,11 it can be dated to before the summer of 1332, since Hermann refers to himself in his dedicatory Prologue to Pope John xxii as lector,12 and by mid July 1332, Hermann was a bachelor of theology.13 Hermann composed this work in the context of the papal-​imperial conflict between John xxii and Louis of Bavaria, as had Hermann’s confrères Augustinus of Ancona his 2.1

9 10

For catechetical works, see Saak, Catechesis in the Later Middle Ages I, 18–​30. “Ex haec dicta sunt de intentione expressa magistri Hermanni in sua Postilla super Cantica … Et similiter de intentione magistri Henrici de Frimaria in Tractatus et generatione Verbi increati. Qui ambo fuerunt huius scholae doctores bene valentes.” Iohannis de Basilea, oesa, Lectura super Quattuor Libros Sententiarum, Tomus ii: Super Primum Librum, dist. 30–​31, q. 25, ed. Venicio Marcolino, cooperantes Monica Brinzei and Carolin Oser-​Grote, Cassiciacum Supplementband 20.2 (Würzburg, 2017), 298,19–​24. 11 Hermannus de Schildis, Tractatus contra Haereticos negantes Immunitatem et Iurisdictionem Sanctae Ecclesiae, Prol., ed. Adolar Zumkeller (Rome, 1970), ix-​xii; hereafter cited as: Herm, Tract. c. haer. 12 “Sanctissimo in Christo patri ac domino domino Joanni, divina providentia sanctae Romanae ac universalis Ecclesiae summo pontifici, frater Hermannus de Schildiz, in ordine fratrum ermitarum sancti Augustini lector, licet inutilis, se cum omni humilitate te timore devotum ad pedum oscula beatorum.” Herm., Tract. c. haer.,Prol. (ed. Zumkeller), 3,5–​9. 13 See Zumkeller, Schriftum, 137.

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Summa de potestate ecclesiastica and William of Cremona, the Prior General of the oesa at the time, his refutation of articles drawn from Marsilius of Padua’s Defensor Pacis, which John had used for his Bull Licet iuxta doctrinam of 23 October 1327 condemning Marsilius.14 The treatise originally consisted of three parts, but the third part is no longer extant, although Hermann’s work listed above, Quod clerus quoad personas et bona sustentationis sui status sit exemptus a iurisdictione et iudicio laicorum, which is dated c. 1340, may have been an excerpt from the lost third part. As Hermann himself explained, the first part of his treatise would treat the immunity of the Church; the second would address the Church’s jurisdiction, while the third part would explicitly refute specific errors “which seem to be as heretical as they are insane.”15 The lost third part had actually been composed first, and sent to Pope John xxii, surely before his Bull condemning Marsilius, as John had asked William to refute the articles extracted from Defensor Pacis,16 and most likely Hermann thought he would contribute as well. Thus Hermann could have been working on his refutation of the specific positions he treated in the lost third part from 1324 and the publication of Marsilius’ work until late summer into early fall of 1327, while a lector at Erfurt. He then wrote the first two parts, either while he served as lector in Herford or perhaps even while reading the Sentences in Paris, to which then he added his already composed treatise sent to John xxii as part three. The two parts though that have come down to us well document Hermann’s intellectual interests and his political Augustinianism, for as had Giles of Rome and James of Viterbo, Hermann based his work on Augustine, who was overwhelmingly his primary authority. Hermann’s Tractatus asserts some of the standard arguments of papal hierocratic theory already present in the works of James and Giles. Hermann, however, constructed an independent work with his own argumentation. While he certainly may have known James’ De regimine Christiano and Giles’ De ecclesiastica potestate, Hermann’s Tractatus is not a derivative work or a simple compilation of arguments made by others, but a political treatise that should be considered of equal standing to those of Hermann’s two more well-​ known confrères.

14 Saak, High Way to Heaven, 60–​65. 15 “… in prima parte studui probare sanctae Romanae et univeralis Ecclesiae immunitatem et omnium hominum ab ea dependentiam, in secunda parte probando unitatem iurisdictionis ius a spirituali potestate et uno capite in omnia membra ipsius Ecclesiae derivatm, in tertia parte specialiter improbans dictos errores, qui videntur tam haeretici quam insani.” Herm., Tract. c. haer. Prol. (ed. Zumkeller, 3,26–​4,32). 16 Herm. Tract. c. haer. (ed. Zumkeller, viii; Zumkeller, Schriftum, 137).

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Dyson had pointed to the use of the “somewhat unusal term frenifactiva” by both Giles and James as suggestive evidence that James was dependent on Giles, or, if the argument might hold, of Giles on James, given my redating in Chapter Four above, though noted that both James and Giles had Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics 1,1 in mind.17 Yet frenifactiva, while perhaps unusual as such, was present in Grosseteste’s translation of the Nicomachean Ethics and cannot be used to establish, or even suggest dependence.18 Hermann too used the term, but he took his reference directly from Aristotle, rather than from Giles or James. In his Tractatus, Part i, ­chapter 10, Hermann argued that all humans are dependent on the Church with respect to their final end.19 This was a similar argument made by both James and Giles, but they both used the image of bridle making as an example of the ordering of the arts, whereby the art of bridle making serves the art of war and is therefore subservient to it,20 or as James put it: “Therefore, just as in the arts the end of one is on account of the end of another, so that the end of bridle making is on account of the end of the military, thus the same applies with respect to powers; and just as in the arts the higher art is the one to whose end the end of another is ordered, so even is the case with powers;”21 or as Giles put it: “For example, just as there is a certain art of bridle-​making, so also is there a certain art of knowing how to make use of an army; and these two arts are not to be linked together as equals. Rather, the one art is under the other: bridle-​making is under warfare, for the art of bridle-​making is that of making such a bridle as will be of use to the soldier.”22 Neither Giles nor James cited Aristotle in their use of the image, and Giles even continued to note the difference between the relationship between bridle making and warfare and that between heavenly power and all other powers.23 Hermann, however, explicitly citing Aristotle, tied the subordination 17 Dyson, James of Viterbo, xxi-​xxii; see also Chapter 4 above. 18 Nicomacean Ethics 1,1: “Quecumque autem sunt talium, sub una quadam virtute; quemadmodum sub equestri, frenifactiva, et quecumque alie, equestrium instrumentorum sunt; hec autem et omnis bellica operacio, sub militari; secundum eundem utique moduni, alie sub alteris. In omnibus itaque architectonicarum fines omnibus sunt desirabiliores, hii que sub ipsis.” https://​arch​ive.org/​str​eam/​Arist​otel​esLa​tinu​sEth​ica/​Aris​tote​ les%20lati​nus_​Ethi​ca_​d​jvu.txt. 19 Herm. Tract. c. haer. 1,10 (ed. Zumkeller, 29,22–​30,37). 20 James of Viterbo, De reg. 2,7 (ed. Dyson, 210); Aeg. Rom. De eccl. pot. 2,6 (ed. Dyson, 116–​118). 21 “Sicut ergo in artibus finis unius est propter finem alterius, ut finis frenefactive propter finem militaris, sic et in potestatibus contingit; et sicut in artibus illa est alterior ad cuius finem ordinatur finis illius alterius, ita etima se habet in potestatibus.” Jac.Vit., De reg. 2,7 (ed. Dyson, 210); translation is mine—​cf. Dyson, 211. 22 Aeg. Rom. De eccl. pot. 2, 6 (ed. Dyson, 116; trans. 117). 23 Aeg. Rom. De eccl. pot. 2, 6 (ed. Dyson, 116–​118).

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of the arts from Nicomachean Ethics 1,1 to the over-​arching architectural structure (architectonica) of the Metaphysics 1,1: The operative arts and the arts of execution with respect to their final end toward which they are ultimately ordered, depend on an over-​arching architectural structure, as is declared in the first book of the Metaphysics. And all subordinate habits, as the military, bridle making, economics, and rhetoric, with respect to their final end depend on politics, as is clear from the first book of the Ethics. But the Church is compared to all humans in the world as the over-​arching architectural structure is to the executive arts and as politics is to the subservient habits.24 In doing so, Hermann transformed the image as used by James and Giles as an example of the hierarchy of subordination into an over-​all metaphysical structure, equating the Church with the Aristotelian architectonic, demonstrating a more sophisticated use of Aristotle than either James or Giles, and one certainly not dependent on either. Further, Hermann’s knowledge and use of Augustine clearly demonstrates his independence from his predecessors. In his treatise, Hermann cited Augustine 121 times, as compared to Giles’ forty-​one citations of Augustine in his De ecclesiastica potestate, as stated above, and James’ forty-​three citations of Augustine in his De regimine Christiano. Whereas Giles cited from eight different works of Augustine, and James cited ten works of Augustine, Hermann cited from twenty-​four works of Augustine, though two are erroneous. De vera religione is the most frequently cited work of Augustine by Hermann with thirteen citations, a work not cited by James and cited only once by Giles,25 though one that by 1335 had become one of Petrarch’s favorite books, as noted above in Chapter One. Hermann was completing his Tractatus at the beginnings of the renaissance of Augustine and the Order’s created identity, signified by the Hermits’ return ad frontes Augustini. Hermann himself contributed to the endeavor with his Sermo de sancto Augustino as a new magister, given in Paris on Augustine’s feast day in 1334. Hermann affirmed the unique

24

“Artes operativae et exsecutivae respectu sui ultimi finis, in quem ultimate ordinantur, dependent ab architectonica, ut declarari habet primo Metaphysicae. Et omnes habitus subordinati, ut militaris, frenefactiva, oeconomica et rhetorica, respectu sui finis ultimi dependent a politica, ut patet primo Ethicorum. Sed Ecclesia comparatur ad omnes homines mundi ut architectonica ad exsecutivas et ut politica ad habitus subservientes.” Herm. Tract. c. haer. 1, 10 (ed. Zumkeller, 29,22–​28). 25 Aeg.Rom. De eccl. pot. 3,8 (ed. Dyson, 358/​359).

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status of the oesa with respect to Augustine that had been established by the Anonymous author of the treatise Initium sive Processus Ordinis Heremitarum Sancti Augustini in 1328, Henry of Friemar’s Tractatus de origine et progressu of 1330, and Nicholas of Alessandria’s Sermo de Sancto Augustinus, held in Paris in 1332, whereby the members of the oesa were uniquely Augustine’s true sons and heirs.26 Moreover, Jordan of Quedlinburg used Hermann’s Sermo as an unnamed source for his treatment of the history of the Order and Augustine’s Rule in his Liber Vitasfratrum. Hermann, Jordan, and Henry of Friemar were all together as lectors in Erfurt during the years 1324 to 1326, and perhaps until 1328 when Hermann left Erfurt for Herford. These were tumultuous times for the Order, for 1324 saw the publication of Marsilius of Padua’s Defensor Pacis and Louis of Bavaria’s Sachsenhausen Appeal, pitting the emperor Louis of Bavaria against Pope John xxii. As seen above, the Augustinians came to John’s defense, and John was most appreciative, granting the Hermits joint custody of Augustine’s tomb in Pavia with the Augustinian Canons in 1327 in his Bull Veneranda sanctorum, in which he named Augustine as the Hermits’ father, leader, teacher, and head. Hermann was part of this endeavor. As seen in Chapter Five above, Augustinus of Ancona had sent John xxii his Summa de potestate ecclesiastica in 1326 and William of Cremona, the Prior General, had offered John, at John’s request, the arguments to refute the articles drawn from the Defensor Pacis, which John then condemned in 1328. It was at this time too that Hermann sent John his own refutation of the errors of the heretics denying the Church’s independence and jurisdiction, to which he then added two additional parts by 1332, and then two years later held his sermon on Augustine’s feast day in Paris. It was in so many ways a group effort. The Order mobilized, and Hermann, as William, Augustinus, Henry, and Jordan, were in the vanguard. Jordan had most likely by this time begun, or continued work he had already begun, on what would become his Collectanea Sancti Augustini, in which he surveyed the sources anew for reconstructing Augustine’s life to demonstrate that Augustine had first founded his Order of Hermits; and Hermann, as had Augustinus, sought to offer overwhelming proof of the supremacy of the papacy, from which all jurisdiction was derived, temporal and spiritual, and in doing so, turned to Augustine to a far greater degree, with far more breadth and erudition than had Giles or James, and did so to defend John against the attacks of Marsilius. Hermann was as central a figure to the Augustinian Renaissance as was Augustinus of Ancona, Jordan, Petrarch and Gregory of Rimini. 26 Saak, Creating Augustine, 63–​79.

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Yet Hermann’s opposition to Marsilius is not evident simply by his reliance on Augustine in light of Marsilius’ own “Augustinianism.” In the two parts of the work that are extant, Hermann never cited Marsilius by name, but it is clear who his major opponent was. To see more clearly the extent to which this was so, we first need to look a bit more closely at the work of Marsilius.27 In his overview of the scholarship devoted to Marsilius, Cary Nederman, in pointing to further work to be done, wrote: Moreover, I also anticipate that Marsiglio scholars will become more vigilant in their examination of the second discourse of the Defensor pacis, a section that, like the second half of Hobbes’s Leviathan, has been grossly neglected by scholars (myself included). I suspect that careful investigation into the structure and evolution of the argument in Discourse ii will pay handsome rewards. Finally, there is the matter of Discourse iii of the Defensor pacis, which is almost always dismissed (rather like the Defensor minor) as a restatement and recapitulation—​a kind of executive summary—​of the ur-​text. Yet the third discourse makes for an odd conclusion, indeed, since it appears to extend Marsiglio’s claims far beyond what has been explicitly stated in the preceding work.28 A new interpretation of the Defensor Pacis, based on Discourse ii, though certainly not ignoring Discourse i, was undertaken by George Garnett, published in the same year as Nederman’s essay.29 Garnett argued for the need to read Marsilius historically, rather than through the lens of a history of political theory that sees modernity in places it desires, rather than sufficiently analyzing the history itself.30 In this light, Garnett uncovers Marsilius’s view of a providential history, and finds surprisingly a Marsilius that has been completely overlooked—​Marsilius the apocalyptic prophet:31 In the extravagant peroration which concludes Marsilius’s treatment of recent events in the second discourse, the pope is elided with ‘ “that

27 28 29 30 31

Cf. Saak, High Way to Heaven, 55–​65; Saak, Luther, 306–​314. Cary J. Nederman, “Marsiglio of Padua Studies Today—​and Tomorrow,” in Gerson Moreno-​Riaño, ed., The World of Marsilius of Padua, Disputatio 5 (Turnhout, 2006), 11–​ 25; 24–​25. George Garnett, Marsilius of Padua and ‘the Truth of History’ (Oxford, 2006). Ibid., 2–​14. Ibid., 154–​159.

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great dragon, that old serpent” who is deservedly called “the devil and Satan” ’ in the Book of Revelation. It was as if sin itself had been perfected, through the agency of the papacy, in order to destroy it. This was why Constantine’s terrible mistake had been providentially ordained. It had been necessary, if fallen man was ultimately to be saved. For Marsilius, the resulting apocalyptic crisis could have only one outcome: the reversal of the second fall of the Roman Empire and, ultimately, the wiping out of the effects of original sin. In other words, Louis’s victory in his conflict with John xxii—​which was providentially inevitable—​would mean that man could at last be perfected in both temporal and spiritual terms. It would mark the apotheosis of human history and, by implication, herald the Last Judgement.32 Such a reading may not be shared by those interpreters following Nederman, who views Marsilius’s political theory as purely secular, but it should force a reconsideration. Marsilius’s theory was ‘secular’ as opposed to ‘clerical’, but not as opposed to ‘religious,’ or even ‘ecclesiastical.’ Recognizing Marsilius’s providential view of history, and giving due weight to Discourse iii, as called for by Nederman himself as cited above, we begin to recognize the Defensor Pacis as first and foremost a radical treatise of ecclesiology, that only then, as a by-​product so to speak, espoused a natural theory of the state.33 If one really wants to know a work, one must know it ‘backwards and forwards.’ The same applies for the Defensor Pacis. Thus, I begin with the end, and Discourse iii, for reading the treatise ‘backwards’ will bring its ecclesiological focus to light. 2.1.1 The Ecclesiology of Marsilius of Padua Discourse iii is by far the shortest of the work, and has been in general dismissed and/​or ignored as a simple summation of what came before. It consists of three chapters, and in the first, Marsilius himself states his intent for the

32

33

Ibid., 157. Garnett cited Def.pac. ii, 26, 18, without giving the text: “Ad quae omnia miserabilia instigavit et instigat [scil. Romanus episcopus] continuo miseros incolas undecumque, propter odium et discordiam ipsorum invicem mente caecos, draco ille magnus, serpens antiquus, qui digne vocari debet diabolus et satanas, quoniam omni contamine seducit et seducere temptat universum orbem.” Mars. Def. pac. ii, 26, 18 (442, 26–​30). The biblical reference is to Apoc. 12:9. I have already argued for the Defensor Pacis as a treatise in ecclesiology; see Saak, High Way to Heaven, 55–​58.

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third Discourse as a summary.34 The second chapter is a listing of forty-​two conclusions, while the third and final chapter address the title of the treatise itself and how it ties into the work as a whole.35 Marsilius is fastidious in giving cross-​references to Discourses i and ii, as indeed he is throughout the work,36 which not only gives the impression of, but also ample evidence for Marsilius having conceived and composed the work as a whole, having skechted it out in minute detail. This is not a polemical treatise guided by animus that takes on new dimensions and proportions as it develops. The Defensor Pacis is an extremely intricate and meticulously planned work, which Marsilius did not compose until he had the entire argument well in mind. In this light, Discourse iii can serve as a guide to the entire work as such, in terms of Marsilius’s overall argument and goal. Marsilius begins chapter two of the third Discourse by asserting five conclusions pertaining to what is necessary for salvation. The first asserts:

34

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36

The chapter heading reads: “De rememoratione principaliter intentorum et determinatorum dictione I et II, et dictorum cum dicendi consequentia quadam.” Marsilius, Def. pac. iii, 1 (492). He then restates his position in the first chapter itself: “Nunc, ut quod hactenus pestilentia haec regnis et communitatibus palmites et germina discordiae sive litis adduxit, nec inducere cessat, arescant citius et de cetero propagari non valeant, ex iam paemissis dictionibus reliquam et tertiam producemus. Quae nil aliud erit quam ex antepositis per-​se-​notis vel demonstratis necessaria et explicita illatio conclusionum quarundum.” Ibid. (492,26–​493,2). In her translation, Annabel Brett renders the text as: “… we shall produce a final and third discourse on top of those that have gone before.” Brett, trans. p. 546. This “on top of” is not explicitly in Marsilius’s text, which clearly in his opinion, is indeed a summation of the preceding two Discourses, either explicitly or implicitly. In the opening chapters of the work, Marsilius had set out the goal of peace, and how he seeks to counter the lites that inhibit that goal; Marsilius, Def.pac. I,1 (1,1–​6,35). When he arrives at Discourse iii, he asserts: “Quoniam autem in prioribus regnorum et communitatum quarundam singularem civilis discordiae seu intranquilitatis iam existentem assignavimus causam, omniumque reliquarum (nisi prohibeatur) futuram: extimationem, desiderium, atque conatum, quibus Romanus episcopus et suroum coetus clericorum singulariter ad saeculares tendunt principatus et temporalia possidenda superflue.” Marsilius, Def.pac. iii, 1 (492,1–​7). Brett translates this passage as: …with which the Roman bishop and his company of clergy set their sights singularly upon secular pincipates and on the superfluous possession of temporal goods.” Brett, 545. The word superflue is an adverb, and thus refers to the endeavor of the Roman bishop as being superfluous, not that the possession of temporal goods is superfluous. Throughout Marsilius refers the reader to previous chapters relating to the matter he is currently discussing, yet he also alerts to reader to more complete coverage and argumentation in chapters yet to come. Thus in Discouse I,9,9 he writes: “… quamvis indubie tenendum secundum veritatem et Aristotelis apertam sententiam, electionem esse certiorem regulam principatus, ut in xiio, xvio et xviio huius certificabitur amplius.” Marsilius, Def.pac. I,9,9 (35,14–​16).

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To gain eternal beatitude, it is necessary to believe only divine or canonic Scripture to be true, and what follows from it by necessity, and the interpretation of it that has been made by a common council of the faithful, if this would need to be duly asserted to anyone. The certainty of this was given in and can be taken from c­ hapter 19 of the second discourse, sections 2–​5.37 The very first conclusion Marsilius gives concerns what is necessary to believe for salvation. This is his point of departure, and he explicitly states that of all his conclusions, this is his first.38 He then continues by asserting that only a general council of the faithful, or its more weighty part, can determine the interpretation of the Scriptures and the articles of faith,39 before claiming that no one, based on Scripture, can be compelled to follow the commands of divine law.40 Conclusions three and four assert that only the precepts of evangelical law, and what can be derived therefrom by right reason, are necessary for salvation, and that only a general council, or a Christian legislator can make dispensations from divine law.41 37

“Harum autem inferendarum conclusionum hanc primam ponemus: Solam Divinam seu Canonicam Scripturam, et ad ipsam per necessitatem sequentem quamcumque, ipsiusque interpretationem ex communi concilio fidelium factam veram esse, ad aeternam beatitudinem consequendam necesse credere, si alicui debite proponatur. Huius siquidem certitudo est et sumi potest xixo Secundae,, ex 2a in 5am.” Marsilius, Def.pac. iii,2,1 (493,8–​15). I have modified the translation of Brett to be, in my view, more accurate to the text; cf. Brett, 547. 38 “Harum autem inferendarum conclusionum hanc primam ponemus,” Ibid. (493,8–​9). I realize I am being redundant here, but the point needs redundancy to recognize its import and impact. 39 “Legis Divinae dubias diffinire sententias, in hiis praesertim qui Christianae fidei vocantur articuli, reliquisque credendis de necessitate salutis, solum generale concilium fidelium aut illius valentiorem multitudinem sive partem determinare debere, nullumque aliud partiale collegium aut personam singularem cuiuscumque conditionis existat iam dictae determinationis auctoritatem habere.” Marsilius, Def.pac. iii, 2,2 (493,16–​21). 40 “Ad observanda praecepta Divinae Legis, poena vel supplicio temporali nemo Evangelica Scriptura compelli praecipitur.” Marsilius, Def.pac. iii,2,3 (494,1–​2). 41 Marsilius, Def.pac. iii,2,4–​5 (494,4–​14). Here, for the first time in the third Dialgoue, though extremely prevalent throughout the work, we find the term fidelis legislator. This is most commonly translated, including by Brett, as ‘faithful legislator,’ though in this case Brett renders it ‘faithful human legislator’; see Brett, 548. I have translated it ‘Christian legislator’. The point being, Marsilius uses Christi fideles and fideles as virtually synonymous. The fidelis legislator is not simply a faithful legislator, but a Christian legislator, which gives a different tone at times to Marsilius’s text. A non-​Christian legislator could be a faithful legislator if he, or it, were faithful to the communio civium. That is not Marsilius’s point. The impact of his argument is lost thereby, since for Marsilius, he is

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Two points are to be noted here. First, Marsilius’s primary conclusion, that with which he starts, is, to repeat myself, what is necessary for salvation. Second, if there are disputes about what that necessity is, based on the interpretation of Scripture or what can be derived therefrom, it is only the general council of the faithful, and/​or the Christian legislator, that can make the determination, and the same is the only body that can make dispensations from divine law, though no one can be compelled by temporal force, based on the Scripture itself, to obey divine law. Given the necessity of the general council and/​or the Christian legislator to determine what is indeed necessary for salvation, Marsilius then is faced with how that general council and/​or Christian legislator is comprised, which he addressed in conclusion six: “That only the universal body of the citizens or its prevailing part is the human legislator: c­ hapters 12 and 13 of the first discourse.”42 In a Christian context, which is the context Marsilius is dealing with in Discourse iii as is evident from his point of departure, that human legislator, the universal body of the citizens, is comprised of ecclesiastics, or in other words, the Church, for Marsilius had already equated the universitas civium

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predicating his argument on a Christian legislator. This interpretation is confirmed by Marsilius’s discussion of the legislator infidelis: “Sunt ergo legislatoris aut eius auctoritate principantis sentencia seu iudicio, tercie significacionis, approbande vel reprobande persone ad ecclesiasticos ordines promovende, instituende quoque vel removende a cura seu presidatu maiori vel minori, et ab exercicio eius prohibende aut eciam, si ex malicia desisterent ab officii exercicio, exercere cogende, ne sui perversitate possit aliquis incidere periculum mortis eterne, ut defectu baptismatis vel alterius sacramenti. Quod sane intelligendum est in communitatibus fidelium iam perfectis. Nam in quo loco legislator et eius auctoritate principans infideles existerent, quemadmodum erat in communitatum plurimis et quasi omnibus circa statum ecclesie primitive, personarum promovendarum ad ecclesiasticos ordines approbacio vel reprobacio, cum reliquis institucionibus iam dictis et officiorum exerciciis, sacerdoti vel episcoppo cum saniori parte fidelis multitudinis existentis ibidem aut illi soli, si solus esset, auctoritas hec conveniret absque consensu vel sciencia principantis, ut ex huiusmodi promocione ac prelatorum seu curatorum institucione fides Christi et doctrina salutaris divulgaretur: que legislatoris infidelis aut legis custodis auctoritate, studio vel precepto non fierent, sed magis prohiberentur. Quo eciam modo id fecerunt apostoli circa inicium ecclesie Christi; et facere tenebantur precepto divino et tenerentur ipsorum successores in legislatoris defectu … Ubi tamen legislator fidelis et legis custos talia volunt fieri, dico ipsorum esse auctoritatem secundum iam dictum modum propter assignatas causas seu probaciones, tam ex scriptura sacra, quam ex humana, probabili et necessaria racione.” Marsilius, Def.pac, ii, 17, 15 (370, 3–​371,3). It is clear here that for Marsilius the legislator fidelis is a Christian legislator, and the legislator infidelis is a non-​Christian legislator. “Legislatorem humanum solam civium universitatem esse aut valentiorem illius partem: xxiio et xiiio Primae.” Marsilius, Def.pac. iii,2,6 (494,15–​16; trans., 548).

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with the universitas fidelium in Discourse ii, chapter two. In defining the ecclesia, Marsilius first notes that the term according to the Greeks signifies “the congregation of the people under a single rule.”43 He then continues to give other definitions of the ecclesia before offering the most true and most proper definition: Again, in another signification—​the truest and most proper of all according to the original application of the term or the intention of those who originally applied it, even if it is not so widespread or consistent with modern usage—​this term ‘church’ is said of the universal body of faithful believers who call upon the name of Christ, and of all the parts of this body within any community, even the household. And this was the original application of the term and its customary usage among the apostles in the early church … And therefore all the faithful of Christ, priests and non-​priests alike, are and should be called churchmen [ecclesiastici] according to this truest and most proper signification.44 In a Christian context, the Church and State for Marsilius are coterminous.45 This is a given for Marsilius, and he does not reassert such in Discourse iii. Rather, he turns in conclusions six through eleven to discuss the boundaries of the human legislator, before turning in conclusions twelve through sixteen to dealing primarily with the Christian legislator, the legislator fidelis. Conclusion seventeen asserts the equality of priests, whereby any hierarchy within the clergy exists solely due to the determination of the legislator, and then conclusions eighteen through forty-​one present the extent of the jurisdiction of the legislator fidelis with respect to religious practice, over-​against the clergy, including marriage laws, the status of notaries, and who is legitimately able to

43 44

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“Haec itaque prosequentes dicamus, (1) quod hoc nomen ecclesia vocabulum est ex usu Graecorum, significans apud ipsos, in hiis quae ad nos pervenerunt, congregationem populi sub uno regimine contenti.” Marsilius, Def.pac. ii,2,2 (116,4–​7). “Rursum, secundum aliam significationem dicitur hoc nomen ecclesia, et omnium verissime ac propriissime secundum primam inpositionem huius nominis seu intentionem primorum imponentium, licet non ita famose seu secundum modernum usum, de universitate fidelium credentium et invocantium nomen Christi, et de huius universitatis partibus omnibus in quacumque communitate, etiam domestica. Et haec fuit impositio prima huius dictionis et consuetus usus eius apud apostolos et in ecclesia primitiva … Et propterea viri ecclesiastici, secundum hanc verissimam et propriissimam significationem, sunt et dici debent omnes Christi fideles, tam sacerdotes quam non-​sacerdotes.” Marsilius, Def.pac. ii,2,3 (117,1–​18; trans., 145–​146). Cf. Gewirth, Marsilius of Padua and Medieval Political Philosophy, 300f.

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teach.46 Conclusion forty-​two is simply a catch-​all conclusion asserting that there could be many other conclusions not contained in the forty-​one above, as well as submitting his argument to the judgment of the general council of the faithful.47 Conclusions twelve through forty-​one of Discourse iii concern primarily the power, authority, and role of the legislator fidelis, whereas only conclusions six through eleven treat the legislator humanus as such. In other words, leaving aside conclusion forty-​two, thirty-​five of the other forty-​one conclusions in Discourse iii concern either what is required for salvation (conclusions one through five) or the power, authority, and role of the Christian legislator. The implicit distinction Marsilius draws between the legislator humanus and the legislator fidelis is not one that should go unnoticed, for it ties in to a fundamental distinction for interpreting the Defensor Pacis as such, namely, that between the final cause and/​or end of the state, and the material, formal, and efficient or motive causes. Marsilius first addresses the Aristotelian four causes as they apply to the state in the opening of the seventh chapter of the first Discourse. Previously he had focused on the final cause of the state. Beginning with chapter seven, however, his focus switches to the other three causes for the remainder of the first Discourse. Yet he had already asserted the distinction between simply living (vivere) and living well (bene vivere), claiming that the final cause of civic life is living well. Moreover, he had demarcated two modes with respect both to simply living and living well, namely, the mode with respect to the temporal life in this world, and that with respect to eternal life in the world to come. The final cause of the state with respect to the temporal mode of existence was living well, whereas the final cause of the state with respect to the eternal mode of future existence was eternal salvation, which though he asserts is also useful for living well in the temporal mode. Here we find a conjunction between the eternal mode of existence, and the final cause of the state, both of which concern eternal salvation. Whereas with respect to the material, formal, and efficient cause of the state no appeal to Christianity is needed and one can rely purely on human reason, revelation is the basis of the final cause, and here Marsilius asserts that if Adam had remained in paradise, there would have been no need for the state,48 harkening back to Augustine’s comment that the 46 Marsilius, Def.pac.iii.2.17–​41 (606,8–​611,13). 47 Marsilius, Def.pac.iii.2.42 (611,14–​19). 48 “Ea propterea oportet attendere, quod licet primus homo, Adam videlicet, creatus fuerit principaliter propter Dei gloriam, sicuti cetere creature, fuit ipse tamen creatus singulariter ab aliis speciebus corruptibilium, quoniam ad imaginem Dei et similitudinem, ut capax et particeps esset felicitatis eterne post vitam presentis seculi. Fuit eciam creatus in

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state is simply a band of robbers.49 For Augustine no less than for Marsilius, original sin is the origin of the necessity of political power, even though with respect to the material, formal, and efficient causes, the origins of the state for Marsilius are to be found in the Aristotelian hierarchy of family, village, city, and kingdom. Here Marsilius is not opposing reason and revelation, or reason and faith, and certainly not the “church” and the “state”; he is examining the same phenomenon from differing perspectives, namely, from the perspectives of sufficiency related to the material, formal, and efficient causes, and from the perspective of the final cause, which is central for truly living well. Nor is Marsilius espousing here a double truth, whereby, for example, the origins of the state according to philosophy would be a naturalistic, rational view based on Aristotle, whereas the origins of the state according to theology would be found in original sin. Both positions are true, based on the perspective of analysis, that is, according to which cause the phenomenon is being analyzed, but they are not contradictory. The theological, or ecclesiastical perspective based on the final end encompasses the natural, rational analysis of the state per se, that is, of a non-​Christian state, which Marsilius admits can advance, in the temporal realm, the living well of its citizens. What a non-​Christian state cannot do is to advance the cause of its citizens with respect to eternal life, which increasingly appears as Marsilius’s primary goal. If we desire to understand the final cause of Marsilius’s treatise, we must take his analysis of the state’s final cause into account as the primary factor informing his work, and in this light, statu innocencie seu iusticie originalis et eciam gracie, ut probabiliter dicunt sanctorum aliqui et scripture sacre quidam doctores precipui. In quo siquidem permansisset, nec sibi aut sue posteritatis necessaria fuisset officiorum civilium institucio vel distinccio, eo quod opportunat queque ac voluptuosa sufficiencie huius vite in paradiso terrestri seu voluptatis natura produxisset eidem, absque ipsius pena vel fatigacione quacumque.” Marsilius, Def.pac. I, 5,1 (ed. Scholz, 29,4–​17). 49 Aug. civ. 4,4. Augustine focuses on iustitia here, and that without iustitia a state is simply a band of robbers. Gewirth argued that on this basis the papalist theorist subjected the temporal realm to the pope. Marsilius, on the other hand, drew from Augustine, but focused on the “earthly city” primarily: “The Marsilian state is more like Augustine’s ‘city of man’ than is any other state propounded by a medieval thinker; Augustine’s description of the earthly city and its peace is closely matched by the orientation of ‘civil happiness’ and socio-​economic ‘peace’ into which Marsilius fits his state.” Gewirth, Marsilius of Padua, 38–​39. Part of the problem here is that Marsilius cited De civitate dei only twice in the entire Defensor Pacis, and cites civ., 5, 21 and 7,19; Augustine’s discussion to which Gewirth here refers is found in civ. 19,18. It is apparent that Marsilius knew civ., but he certainly is not basing his argument on it. Moreover, as I am arguing here, while Marsilius’s state as a non-​Christian state might indeed fit Gewirth’s description, Marsilius has very much in mind and primarily so a Christian state, which in no way is likened to Augustine’s civitas terrena.

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Church —Communio fidelium Legislator Fidelis

Final Cause

State—Communio civium

Legislator humanus Material Cause Formal Cause Efficient Cause

­f igure 2  Church and state in Marsilius

Marsilius is explicit as to what his final cause is, namely, to offer an analysis of why Italy is in turmoil and to restore peace, which he basis on Scripture and Cassiodorus in the opening lines of his work. The implicit distinction Marsilius draws in Discourse iii between the human legislator and the Christian legislator reflects the differing modes, namely, the sufficient mode for living well in the temporal realm based on the material, formal, and efficient causes, and what is required for living well with respect to eternal salvation, which also impinges on, or is useful for, living well in the temporal realm. The Christian legislator is the human legislator in a Christian state. Religion is central to all states, but only the Christian religion is the true religion, and therefore only the Christian state can be directed to the final cause of the state with respect to eternal salvation.50 The vast majority 50

“Verum quia gentiles et omnium relique leges aut secte, que sunt aut fuerunt extra catholicam fidem christianam, aut que ante ipsam fuit Mosaicam legem, vel que ante hanc fuit sanctorum patrum credulitatem, et generaliter extra tradicionem eorum, que in sacro canone, vocata Biblia, contenentur, non recte senserunt de Deo, ut quia

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of Discourse iii is dedicated to conclusions concerning what is necessary for salvation, how that is determined, and how the Christian legislator is to govern the state with respect to religion in so far as the eternal mode of existence in the future life is also useful for life in the temporal realm. The secular, naturalistic state, based on Aristotle thus appears as a subset of the Christian state, or perhaps as a core thereof, as schematized in Figure 2. It is concentric truths that Marsilius describes, not a double truth or an opposition. The radical step Marsilius takes is to define the clergy as a function of the state. In the twelfth conclusion of Discourse iii, Marsilius asserts: That to determine the persons, their qualities and number for the offices of the state, and thus all other civil matters, belongs solely to the authority of the Christian prince in accordance with the laws or approved customs: ­chapter 12 of the first discourse and 15 of the same, sections 4 and 10.51 He had already determined that the priesthood was simply one of the offices of the state in Discourse i, ­chapter 5:

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humanum ingenium secuti sunt aut falsos prophetas vel doctores errorum, ideoque nec de futura vita ipsiusque felicitate vel miseria, nec de vero sacerdocio propterea instituto recte senserunt. Locuti tamen sumus in ipsorum ritibus, ut eorum a vero sacerdocio, Christianorum scilicet, differencia et sacerdotalis partis necessitas in communitatibus manifestius appareret.” Marsilius, Def.pac. I,5,14 (ed. Scholz, 28,7–​20); “Superest autem nobis de sacerdotalis partis necessitate dicere, de qua non omnes homines sic senserunt concorditer, ut de necessitate reliquarum parcium civitatis. Et causa huius fuit, quoniam ipsius vera et prima necessitas non potuit comprehendi per demonstracionem, nec fuit res manifesta per se. Convenerunt tamen omnes gentes in hoc, quod ipsum conveniens sit instituere propter Dei cultum et honoracionem et consequens inde commodum pro statu presentis seculi vel venturi. Plurime enim legum sive sectarum bonorum premius et malorum operatoribus supplicium in futuro seculo promittunt, distribuenda per Deum.” Marsilius, Def.pac. I,5,10 (ed. Scholz, 25,17–​28). “Personas et ipsarum qualitatem ac numerum ad officia civitatis, sic quoque civilia omnia determinare, ad principantis fidelis auctoritatem secundum leges aut probata consuetudines tantummodo pertinere: (12o prime et 15o, 4a et 10a.)” Marsilius, Def.pac. iii,2 12 (ed. Scholz, 605,13–​17). Here I have translated principans fidelis as Christian prince; cf. Brett, trans., 549. There is nothing in this conclusion that specifically requires the prince to be Christian, i.e., fidelis, as Marsilius’s cross references make clear. In his cross references no mention is made of the principans fidelis, but rather simply the principans, e.g.: “Propter quod nec licitum est alicui pro libito sibi assumere officium in civitate, maxime advenis. Non enim debet nec racionabiliter potest pro voto quibliet se convertere ad militare vel sacerdocium exercendum, neque debet hoc permittere principans; nam ex hoc

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We have so far put forward, by way of preliminaries, a global account of the parts of the city; and we have said that it is in their action and perfect mutual intercommunication (not subject to any impediment from outside either) that the tranquility of the city consists. We now take up the subject of these parts again, so that through a richer elucidation of them (from their activities or ends as well as from the other causes appropriate to them) the causes of tranquility and its opposite might be further clarified. We shall say, then, that the parts or offices of the city are of six kinds, as Aristotle said in Politics vii, ­chapter 7: agriculture, manufacture, the military, the financial, the priesthood and the judicial or councillor. Three of these, viz. the priesthood, the military and the judicial, are parts of the city in an unqualified sense, and in civil communities they are usually called the notables. The others are called parts in a broad sense, in that they are functions necessary to the city according to the opinion of Aristotle in Politics vii, ­chapter 7. And the multitude of these is usually called plebian. These, then are the more familiar parts of the city or realm, to which all the others can appropriately be reduced.52 This was the decisive step. Based on Aristotle, and the material, formal, and efficient causes of the state, Marsilius categorized the priesthood as a

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contingere insufficiencia civitati eorum alia officia procurari necesse est. Verum ad talia debet principans determinare personas, parcium quoque seu officiorum ipsorum quantitatem et qualitatem secundum numerum et potenciam et huiusmodi reliqua, ne propter ipsarum excessum invicem immoderatum contingat policiam solvi.” Marsilius, Def.pac. I,15,10 (ed. Scholz, 92,5–​15). In Discourse iii, conclusion 12, Marsilius begins detailing the authority and power of the Christian prince or legislator (principans/​legislator fidelis), while his cross references ensure that the same principal is valid for the non-​Christian prince or legislator. The point Marsilius is making is that the Christian prince/​legislator has authority over all offices of the state, including those pertaining to the clergy. “Postquam premissus est a nobis totalis sermo de partibus civitatis, in quarum accione ac communicacione perfecta invicem nec extrinsecus impedita tranquillitatem civitatis consistere diximus, ut earum ampliori determinacione, tam ex operibus seu finibus quam aliis appropriatis causis ipsarum, cause tranquillitatis et sui oppositi manifestentur amplius, de ipsis resumentes dicamus, quod partes seu officia civitatis sunt sex generum, ut dixit Aristoteles 7o Politice, capitulo 6o: agricultura, artificium, militaris, pecuniativa, sacerdocium et iudicialis seu consiliativa. Quorum tria, videlicet sacerdocium, propugnativa et iudicialis, simpliciter sunt partes civitatis, quas eciam in communitatibus civilibus honorabilitatem dicere solent. Reliqua vero dicuntur partes large, ut quia sunt officia necessaria civitati secundum Aristotelis sentenciam 7o Politice, capitulo 7o. Et solet horum multitudo dici vulgaris. Sunt igitur hee partes famosiores civitatis seu regni, ad quas omnes alie convenieter reduci possunt.” Marsilius, Def.pac. I,5,1 (ed. Scholz, 20,6–​23); Brett, trans., 22–​23.

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fundamental, indispensable, and intrinsic function of the state, regardless the type of priesthood being discussed. Religion is integral to all civic society, and as such, the priesthood is an integral office of the state (officium civitatis). The same holds true for Christian priesthood, which is the only true priesthood of the only true religion, based not on reason, but on revelation. That revelation does not alter the fundamental function of the priesthood in the state. Even the Christian priesthood—​which serves the only true, revealed religion, the religion that reveals the final cause of human existence, of individuals and of the communio civium—​is still, nevertheless, a function of the state, subject to the legislator humanus, which in a Christian state, is the legislator fidelis. Here Marsilius has made the spiritual subject to the temporal under the mode of being of the temporal realm and the material, formal, and efficient causes of the state, and of living well. A greater contrast to papal hierocratic theory as it had developed in terms of papal monarchy from Innocent iii to John xxii cannot be imagined, though Marsilius’s position would not have been radical, but reasonable and in accordance with the theory of Eigenkirchen of the early Middle Ages. If Marsilius espoused a radical new view, he did so in keeping with the pre-​Gregorian position. Consequently, only the state has coercive power, as Marsilius asserted in conclusion fifteen of Discourse iii: That by the authority of the legislator only he who exercises the office of prince has coercive jurisdiction, in both goods and persons, over every individual mortal person of whatever condition they may be, and over every collective body of laypersons or clergy: c­ hapters 15 and 17 of the first discourse, ­chapters 4, 5 and 8 of the second.53 As a function of the state, the clergy has no coercive power that is not granted it by the legislator. The Marsilian state is a lay state, but one that is governed by ecclesiastics, that is, the communio fidelium that is synonymous with the communio civium. The state and the church are one and the same with the power and authority of government residing with the laity. In this light, the true radical nature of Marsilius’s Defensor Pacis comes to the fore. While scholars may legitimately continue to debate the extent to which Marsilius advocated a natural, secular state based on the sovereignty 53

“Super omnem singularem personam mortalem cuiuscumque condicionis existat, atque collegium laicorum aut clericorum, auctoritate legislatoris solummodo principantem iurisdiccionem, tam realem quam personalem, coactivam habere: (15o et 17o prime, 4o, 5o ac 8o secunde).” Marsilius, Def.pac. ii, 2, 15 (ed. Scholz, 605,28–​606,3; trans. Brett, 550).

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of the people, the true force of his argument and his major intent was to present a radical redefinition of the Church, though one he felt harkened back to apostolic times, and one that was not so different from the pre-​Gregorian Church, or that of the Protestants of the sixteenth century. The primary cause of turmoil was the clergy usurping coercive jurisdiction or power from the lay leaders, setting themselves up as a class above the non-​ordained. For Marsilius, all true believers are ecclesiastics, and as such, comprise the communio fidelium, which is the general council of the Church, wherein the sovereignty of the Church lies, the same sovereignty as that of the communio civium, the Marsilian legislator. The priesthood is an office, or function, of the state, the same as the military. Both are subject to the civic legislator. When the interpreter analyzes the Defensor Pacis by beginning with Discourse i, especially when the context in which Marsilius places Discourse i is ignored, a natural, secular interpretation of the state is a most understandable outcome. Only when the entire treatise is read in light of Discourse iii, does the true nature of Marsilius’s work appear, whereby the major concern he sought to address is presented in Discourse ii. Discourse I then appears as a requisite pretext of Discourse ii, whereby Marsilius is primarily concerned to re-​establish the Church on lay grounds since the entire cause of the lack of peace is the usurpation of coercive jurisdiction by the clergy, and to do so he focuses on the material, formal, and efficient causes of coercive jurisdiction/​ power that then are applied to the state as such, whether in a republican form or in an imperial form. The fact that scholars still debate whether Marsilius was primarily a “republican” or an “imperialist” is an indication itself that Marsilius’s primary goal was not to establish the ideal form of government, but to redefine the structures of the Church. Marsilius was concerned with the origins and structures of power, not with the forms of government, and whether those origins and structures of power were primarily, originally, and theologically in the temporal, secular realm of the laity, or in the spiritual, eternal realm of the clergy. Based on the fact that the truth of the eternal realm was based on revelation, and not reason as such, all temporal jurisdiction, that is, political power, resided in the realm of the laity, that is, the material, formal, and efficient causes of the state and its bene vivendi. Yet the final cause is also useful for “living well” within the temporal realm, and therefore, the temporal rulers, or the pars principans, are by definition the ones to determine how that eternal realm is to be useful in hoc seculo. A secular view of the state indeed, but one that is first and foremost an ecclesiology, since in a Christian state the communio fidelium is synonymous with the communio civium. That was Marsilius’s solution to the problems he saw in his society, and he constructed his political theory accordingly, whereby based on Aristotle, the priestly function of the

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non-​Christian state was likewise subject to the communio civium, Marsilius’s legislator. Thus Marsilius submitted his work to the judgment of a general Church council, his own communio fidelium.54 What we find in Marsilius is not a disjunction between “the Church” and “the State,” but between reason and revelation, whereby the rational analysis of political power according to the material, formal, and efficient cause is valid independently of revelation and the final cause, a revelation that Marsilius asserted in no uncertain terms was the revelation of the truth of Christianity, which concerns only the eternal, spiritual realm of the bene vivendi, which though is useful for “living well” in the temporal realm. In this light, the legislator humanus is the legislator fidelis and for Marsilius, a warped, satanical ecclesiology was the cause of the lack of peace, which Marsilius combated by espousing a radical redefinition of that ecclesiology, to place ecclesiology on rational and revealed grounds. 2.1.2 Hermann’s Response This was the threat Hermann faced, and he faced it head on, as did Augustinus of Ancona and William of Cremona. Yet whereas Augustinus wrote a comprehensive treatise on ecclesiastical power, Hermann attacked Marsilius more directly with a focused treatise along the lines of those of James and Giles. While a comprehensive analysis of Hermann’s treatise in its historical context and its comparison to Marsilius is beyond the scope of the present study, four points of contrast will suffice to demonstrate that Marsilius was the primary opponent Hermann had in mind when constructing his Tractatus: 1. Causation; 2. Authority; 3. The relationship between the temporal and the eternal; and 4. The structure of society. 2.1.2.1 Causation Whereas in the Defensor Pacis, Marsilius had based his treatment on the material, formal, and efficient causes of living well, even while acknowledging Christianity and eternal salvation as being the final cause, Hermann set out from the very beginning of his Tractatus to establish the final cause as the primary consideration, for “all humans are regulated by the final ultimate end, since the final end is the guiding rule of all human action.”55 The Church, moreover, is one, and is holy, referring explicitly to the Creed, and echoing Boniface viii’s Unam sanctam.56 No political government can be well ordered 54 Marsilius, Def.pac. iii.3 (613,5–​16). 55 “… habet omnes homines per finem ultimum regulare, cum finis ultimis sit regula omnium actuum humanorum.” Herm. Tract. c. haer. 1,4 (ed. Zumkeller, 13,9–​10). 56 Herm., Tract. c. haer. 1,1 (ed. Zumkeller, 8,4–​6).

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if it is instituted in opposition to the order of the universe, and plurality of principalities is against the universal order, which is based on unity.57 Thus only a single governing principle is in harmony with the order of the universe, and that governing principle is based on the final end of humans, which is eternal salvation. All other ends then are dependent on the final end, and therefore all government is dependent on the one universal government directed toward the final end, which is a divine, supernatural end.58 The right and just use of all temporal things therefore is dependent on the governance of the Church, which governs towards the final end.59 At the very opening of his Tractatus, Hermann made his position clear: For everyone who does not believe in Jesus Christ, the son of God, is anti-​Christ and a seductor, but how would one, not believing in the holy Church, which one sees and reads about in Scripture, believe in Christ whom one does not see? … Certainly though nefarious and insane heretics asserting that the holy Church, the immaculate spouse of God, ought to be subject to the temporal prince are not seen as believing in the holy Church, as will soon be proved below. Wherefore all such seducers and antichrists are to be censured.60 Louis of Bavaria had referred to John xxii as antichrist in his Sachsenhausen Appeal, and here Hermann replied directly throwing the argument back in his face. Marsilius had provided Louis with the theoretical arguments for his opposition to John, and Hermann, asserting the final cause as the determinative one, was directly rebuking Marsilius’ focus on the material, formal, and efficient causes of living well. Moreover, for Hermann, “God alone has dominium in all things, because he himself is both the complete efficient cause and the complete final cause, and nothing is reality (in re) that is not ordained to

57 Herm. Tract. c. haer. 1,2 (ed. Zumkeller, 8,8–​9,15). 58 Herm. Tract. c. haer. 1,2 (ed. Zumkeller, 8,8–​10,71); 1, 4 (ed. Zumkeller, 13,8–​10). 59 Herm. Tract. c. haer. 1, 13 (ed. Zumkeller, 33,5–​13). 60 “Omnis enim, qui non credit in Jesum Christum, filium Dei, hic antichristus et seductor est, sed non credens in sanctam Ecclesiam, quam videt et in Scripturis legit, in Christum, quem non videt, quomodo credet? … Quidam autem haeretici nefarii et insani asserentes sanctam Ecclesiam sponsam Dei immaculatam subiectam esse debere temporali principi, non videntur credere in sanctam Ecclesiam, prout infra probabitur. Quapropter omnes tales seductores et antichristi sunt censendi.” Herm. Tract. c. haer. 1,1 (ed. Zumkeller, 5,6–​6,14).

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him just as to an end.”61 Even Marsilius’ appeal to the efficient cause doesn’t hold water for Hermann, because it is God, not the human legislator who is too the efficient cause of all creation. 2.1.2.2 Authority One of the foundational differences between the ecclesiology of Marsilius and that of Hermann, was that Marsilius considered the authority of the human legislator to be the sole governor of all of society and the only legitimate source for exercising coercive force. Hermann upheld a similar view of the function of authority, but considered the foundational authority, the only true authority, for governing human society with respect to the final end to have been the Church. Those who do not believe the Church seem to place reason above authority, yet reason as well as the authority of Scripture proves that authority must precede reason, for which Hermann appeals to Augustine.62 Faith was the key, for believing the Holy Church was Hermann’s point of departure, which Christians accept on the authority of the Church. Without such faith, all other articles of faith fall by the wayside.63 The faith though to which Hermann refers is the faith in the Church, believing the Church as the principal article of the Creed. This is the foundational principle, for just as Aristotle argued in his Physics, motion itself is the principle by which we can know the unmoved mover, so faith is the principle by which we believe the Holy Church and can know the articles of faith, as Hermann proves as well by citing Augustine as an authority.64 The authority of the Church was essential for Hermann because the Church had handed down and authenticated the books of Scripture themselves, from which the articles of faith were drawn. In other words, drawing again on Augustine, we could not believe the Gospel, or the other books of Scripture Hermann asserted, without the authority of the Holy Church.65 Here too Hermann was taking on Marsilius directly, for, as seen above, Marsilius’ point of departure was that humans are only required to believe what is necessary to salvation, which is: 1. gained from believing that the Scriptures are true; 2. what necessarily derives from the Scripture; and 3. the interpretations thereof. If

61

“… solus Deus habet dominium in rebus omnibus, quia et ipse totalis est causa efficienter et totatlis causa finaliter et nihil est in re, quod non ordinetur in ipsum sicut in finem.” Herm. Tract. c. haer. 1,14 (ed. Zumkeller, 38,117–​120); cf. Marsilius. 62 Herm. Tract. c. haer. 1,1 (ed. Zumkeller, 6,15–​30). 63 Herm. Tract. c. haer. 1,1 (ed. Zumkeller, 6,31–​7,46). 64 Herm. Tract. c. haer. 1,1 (ed. Zumkeller, 7,47–​61). 65 Herm. Tract. c. haer. 1,1 (ed. Zumkeller, 7,62–​68).

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though there is dispute over the interpretation of Scripture, only the faithful Legislator within the common council of the faithful has the authority to settle the matter. In other words, for Marsilius, authority was needed to determine what was necessary for salvation. Hermann would have agreed completely, but established the authority of the Church as the locus of such authority, and in doing so, also at the very outset of his Tractatus, Hermann was directly refuting Marsilius. 2.1.2.3 The Relationship between the Temporal and the Eternal The difference between Marsilius and Hermann with respect to authority was based on the relationship between the temporal and eternal realms. Marsilius had focused his work on the material, formal, and efficient cause in the temporal realm. The temporal realm itself had its own final end, namely, living well, which was independent of the eternal final end of salvation. While eternal salvation, and consequently the true religion, which for Marsilius was uniquely Christianity, did indeed contribute to the living well in the temporal realm since it was based on truth, living well in the temporal realm was not dependent on the eternal. In essence, Marsilius made a formal distinction between the temporal and the eternal, if not indeed a real distinction. His discussion of the Church in this sense was based on the temporal mode of existence, living in our current condition, and therefore was based on reason, since revelation was in the eternal realm. Religion, and consequently the priesthood, was an essential component of all human society, and all human society had to take the priesthood and religion into account, even in pagan societies. What distinguished Christian society in terms of the structures of society was the truth of the Christian religion. Aside from that truth, the fundamental structures of a Christian society and a pagan society were the same in the temporal realm, whose final end was living well. Hermann in contrast considered the temporal and the eternal as part of a single unity. Within that unity, the temporal was dependent on the eternal, which was the focus of Part i of his Tractatus. As cited above, the political had to be in harmony with the eternal and the eternal was the origin and source of the temporal, on which all temporal things depended. Temporal things and their use are within the realm of the Church by divine law and from the natural debt owed in divine worship and contemplation which are not as such dependent on humans.66 “Clearly divine power,” Hermann argued, “does not depend on man. But ecclesiastical power with respect as much to spiritual things as to 66 Herm. Tract. c. haer. 1, 8 (ed. Zumkeller, 23,5–​31).

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temporal things is clearly divine, because in both spheres power goes back to God alone, because it was not some earthly sentence, but that very Word by which heaven and earth were created.”67 Thus in light of the eternal, the pope rules the Church not as a human being, but for God, serving in God’s place on earth.68 And in this light, the Church is not able to err and is of itself independent and purely free, free from all defect and error, having nothing superior to it, for nothing that is free in and of itself can depend on anything else.69 In effect, Hermann set up a hierarch of dependency, in which he used the hierarchy of causes as evidence, whereby the Church is dependent on nothing human and is, somewhat analogous to the unmoved first mover, itself per se free and is that from which all other power derives. This was the created order of the universe, a divine architectonic unity, within which the temporal and the spiritual were ordered to the final end of creation, eternal salvation. In his assertion that the Church cannot err, that the Church is infallible, Hermann was simply repeating the basic position of papal theory. Yet Hermann came close to a position of papal infallibility, taking the Church’s infallibility even further than it had been previously. An argument for papal infallibility was first put forward by the anonymous Franciscan insert in Louis of Bavaria’s Sachsenhausen Appeal, which may very well have been behind Hermann’s position.70 Louis had issued the argument as a means of restricting papal power and authority, limiting it to the decrees of previous popes, which he, or the anonymous Franciscan author, used to argue that in his condemnation of Franciscan poverty in his Bull Cum inter nonnullos, John xxii had in fact condemned an infallible decree of Pope Innocent iv, and was therefore the anti-​ Christ.71 Hermann did not go so far as had the anonymous Franciscan, if for no other reason than he was taking John’s side in the controversy. Yet Hermann wanted to assert in no uncertain terms the supremacy of the pope and the dependency on the pope of all other powers, including that of the emperor. In some ways one could say that Hermann advocated an incarnational theology of the Church and the papacy to counter Marsilius’ argument that Christians, and especially the clergy, should be imitators of Christ, but of Christ as he was in his earthly life, living a life of poverty and renouncing all earthly, temporal 67

“Potestas pure divina non dependet ab homine. Sed potestas ecclesiastica tam respectu spiritualium quam temporalium est pure divina, quia in utrisque in solum Deum reducitur, quia non quaelibet terrena sententia, sed illud Verbum, quo constructum est caelum et terra.” Herm. Tract. c. haer. 1, 8 (ed. Zumkeller, 23,32–​35). 68 Herm. Tract. c. haer. 1, 8 (ed. Zumkeller, 24,38–​45). 69 Herm. Tract. c. haer. 1, 8 (ed. Zumkeller. 70 See Saak, High Way to Heaven, 55–​69. 71 Ibid.

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power. Marsilius had used Franciscan poverty as the basis for his argument of the clergy’s role in society, focusing on the earthly, human Christ. Hermann countered with the near divine role of the papacy based on the special grace of the Holy Spirit. This was not certainly an incarnation, but it was incarnational as a fusing of the divine and human. Hermann argued that the pope, who cannot deviate from the straight and narrow, is the ruler and judge of all men. Such is only possible with the support and strength of the Holy Spirit.72 Hermann used Augustine’s six ages to refer to the various stages of Christian perfection. Thus the third spiritual age is when the Holy Spirit strengthens humans to live rightly when carnal appetite begins to be subjected to reason. This strengthening is extended in the fourth age, so that humans are able to withstand persecution. The fifth age, or stage, is the illumination of the gift of wisdom, but then the sixth is the completion and perfection of the strength of the Holy Spirit so that one lives completely without regard to the temporal life and is transformed in living the eternal life. It was this perfection of strength that was given to Peter, and consequently, to Peter’s successors, the popes, who in their consecration receive such perfect strength unless there is some impediment.73 Hermann had previously asserted that the pope is not purely human, but rules on earth in the place of the true God, and in this light, is dependent on no one, but, as the Church itself, is free from error and defect, and thus his power and jurisdiction extend to all humans, all of whom are dependent on him, for the pope’s power comes not from humans, but from God.74 To this extent, the pope is not able to err, for the faith and the Holy Scriptures contain the infallible truth. Only one who is supported by the infallible truth can determine questions concerning the faith and Holy Scriptures, and this one is the 72 Herm. Tract. c. haer. 2,8 (ed. Zumkeller, 73,12–​17). 73 “Rationabile est regulam primam omnium hominum esse inobliquabilem; sed Romanus pontifex est regula et iudex omnium hominum, ut supra probatus fuit. Ergo rationabile est eum esse inobliquabilem. Sed hoc non datur nisi per Spiritum Sanctum ad robur, ubi in quadam spirituali aetate homo constituitur, in qua carnalis appetitus perfecte rationis robori maritatur … Et hoc datur in tertia spirituali aetate, ubi illud robur datur initialiter. Sed in quarta extenditur, ut homo iam fiat aptus frangendis et sustendis omnibus persecutionibus huius mundi. In quinta autem aetate perfectissime illuminatur sapientiae dono … In sexta illud robur perficitur et consummatur, in qua homo transit ‘usque ad oblivionem vitae temporalis’ per omnimodam demutationem in vitam aeternam, ut Augustinus ibidem dicit. Quod Petro fuerit datum istud robur, satis videtur evidens. Unde sicut Romanus pontifex in electione succedit Petro in plenitudine potestatis et iurisdictionis, ita videtur consonum rationi, quod in consecratione succedat in perfectione sanctitatis, nisi praestet obicem.” Herm. Tract. c. haer. 2, 8 (ed. Zumkeller, 73,12–​74,30); cf. Augustine, De vera religione 26, 49 (pl 34, col. 143–​144). 74 Herm. Tract. c. haer. 1, 8 (ed. Zumkeller, 24,38–​47).

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pope. When the pope bases his decisions in the infallible Holy Church, and is therefore joined with the body of the Holy Church as its head, “the pope will never judge wrongly nor err,”75 for the truth declared by the pope is the infallible, eternal truth of God, whose vicar the pope is. In this light, the pope indeed embodies both the temporal and the eternal, as the earthly embodiment of the divine architectonic, on which all other power and jurisdiction depends in light of the final end. Yet the pope is not absolutely infallible, and can indeed err. In the passage cited above in which Hermann asserted the pope’s infallibility, he also noted a condition: the pope cannot diverge from the infallible truth unless the body, which is the Church, present to its head, the pope, false images, or if the head, or the pope, digresses from the administration of the body and accepts such false images.76 Moreover, in his consecration, the pope receives the strength of the Holy Spirit to the greatest extent, unless there is an impediment, and the pope in his consecration succeeds to the perfection of holiness, unless there is an impediment.77 Hermann did not clarify what might constitute an impediment, but he did assert that if Church prelates are avaricious, prideful, or misuse their lordship, seeking what is their own, they are so having been forced by the violence of secular arms,78 and he did acknowledge that both the Church itself and the pope can indeed err, because error can be of issues of fact as well as principle (de iure); with regard to fact, it can be possible that the pope is ignorant of some fact and thus could err, but not with respect to principle. To remember or to know all facts and not to be mistaken in any of them, pertains to divinity more than to humanity, and thus the Church, and the pope, 75

“Conclusiones elicitae circa articulos fidei et circa sacram Scripturam eliciuntur a principiis continentibus infallibilem veritatem, quia et fides et sacra Scriptura supponuntur continere infallibilem veritatem. Determinare autem aliquid circa talia non potest aliquis, nisi innitatur omnino infallibili veritati vel eius deciso fundetur in illo, quod non potest discedere ab infallibili veritate. Sed decisio Romani pontificis, qua talia determinat, fundatur in Ecclesia catholica, quae errare non potest vel ab infallibili Veritate discedere, sicut iudicium capitis fundatur in corpore. Sicut ergo, si nunquam corpus capiti nisi vera et recta phantasmata repraesentaret, numquam caput falso aliquid iudicaret, nisi tunc a subministratione corporis diverteret et aliunde phantasmata susciperet, ita numquam male iudicabit nec errabit Romanus pontifex maxime in talibus, si bene corpori Ecclesiae coaptetur.” Herm. Tract. c. haer. 2,9 (ed. Zumkeller, 77,43–​78,55). 76 “Sicut ergo, si nunquam corpus capiti nisi vera et recta phantasmata repraesentaret, numquam caput falso aliquid iudicaret, nisi tunc a subministratione corporis diverteret et aliunde phantasmata susciperet, ita numquam male iudicabit nec errabit Romanus pontifex maxime in talibus, si bene corpori Ecclesiae coaptetur.” Herm. Tract. c. haer. 2,9 (ed. Zumkeller, 77,51–​78,55). 77 Herm. Tract. c. haer. 2,8 (ed. Zumkeller, 73,27–​74,44). 78 Herm. Tract. c. haer. 1, 15 (ed. Zumkeller, 45,114–​124).

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can err.79 In effect, Hermann posited, much as did Augustinus of Ancona, a fallible, infallible pope, whereby the pope is infallible as long as he does not err.80 Moreover, Hermann acknowledged, again as did Augustinus, that there had been popes who had erred in matters of faith, or had deviated from the faith, as had Anastasio ii. Such popes are immediately to be expelled from the Church.81 Such an occurrence of “bad popes” is possible because popes are not only the vicars of Christ, but also human beings and as such have the potential to sin, for every human not already having attained the final end, has the defect of being capable of sin, though God is able to preserve one from actual sin.82 It is by the grace and providence of God that the pope as pope cannot err, whereas the pope as pope remains a human being capable of sin. For Hermann, the temporal and the eternal are distinct modes of being, yet “incarnationally” are unified in the Church, and in all of creation in keeping with the architectonic of creation and its final end, a position directly in contradiction to that of Marsilius. 2.1.2.4 The Structures of Society Closely related to the relationship between the temporal and the eternal were the basic structures of society, an examination of which again strongly suggests that Marsilius was Hermann’s major opponent. As argued above, Marsilius considered the priesthood to be an essential component of all human society, yet in this temporal world, the priesthood was subject to the legislator. Marsilius had constructed his theory on the temporal origins of human government, which he viewed, following Aristotle, as beginning with the family, expanding to the village and city, and then culminating in the state, or kingdom. Sovereignty, the right and ability to use coercive force, resided in the communio civium, or the valentior pars thereof, as the legislator, which could be embodied in an emperor, such as Louis, or in a city council. The legislator was responsible for guiding the communio civium toward its temporal final end of living well (bene vivere), based on the material, formal, and efficient cause. The priesthood, Christian or otherwise, had an essential function in the state, for religion was a basic component of human life. Yet only the Christian religion was true, and thus was more valid than any other, and thus of significance in light of the eternal final end. The legislator had

79 Herm. Tract. c. haer. 1,7 (ed. Zumkeller, 22,85–​105). 80 For Augustinus of Ancona, see Saak, High Way to Heaven, 49–​138. 81 Herm. Tract. c. haer. 1,7 (ed. Zumkeller, 22,106–​115). 82 Herm. Tract. c. haer. 2,8 (ed. Zumkeller, 75,72–​85).

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the responsibility to provide for leading the citizens towards that ultimate, eternal final end, but in this temporal world, one cannot know all that much about what will do so, and thus, even for the true religion, with a faithful legislator (legislator fidelis), only that which was necessary for salvation could be imposed by coercive force, and if there were questions about what was necessary, only the legislator fidelis, within the context of the communio civium, which in a Christian society was identical with the communio fidelium, or in other words, with the Church, could make such a determination, and thus Marsilius submitted his Defensor Pacis to the judgment of the Church, the communio fidelium, or general council, led by the legislator fidelis. The legislator fidelis, though, was a temporal power and ruler. Within the structures of the state, while the priesthood was essential, how it was organized was left to the legislator. Every priest in this light was equal. If there was to be a “chief priest,” that would be based on the human, temporal organizational structure established by the legislator. The function was essential; the organization of how that function would be executed was not. If, therefore, it was determined that the “chief priest” was acting in a way detrimental to the temporal final end of society, namely, living well, or even with respect to the material, formal, and efficient causes of society, then that “chief priest” could be removed and indeed the office of “chief priest” could be abolished, which was Marsilius argument that should be done with respect to the papacy. The priesthood was part of the natural, essential structures of society; the ecclesiastical hierarchy was not. While scholars can legitimately continue to argue as to whether Marsilius advocated a theory of “popular sovereignty,” his position of sovereignty and how it functioned within the state, even within a Christian state, was based on society in the temporal realm and his analysis thereof that began in the family and ended in the legislator, which was in Marsilius’ time, embodied in the emperor, Louis of Bavaria, to whom Marsilius dedicated his work. This was a position that Hermann fiercely argued against, as seen above already with respect to causation, authority, and the relationship between the temporal and the eternal. For Hermann, the temporal formed a unity with the eternal in the divinely established architectonic of creation. God was both the final and the efficient cause, and in the temporal realm, God reigned on earth by means of his vicar, the pope, who possesses all the power and jurisdiction, all the sovereignty, that God had given to Christ and that Christ had given to Peter. The most offensive aspect of Marsilius’ theory was his denial of the natural hierarchy of Being. Of the six articles John xxii had culled from the Defensor Pacis to be refuted, the one that received the most attention was the one denying

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the hierarchy of the priesthood.83 This too was the article to which William of Cremona gave special attention, and Hermann did so as well. For Hermann, the hierarchy begins with God, for Christ commissioned Peter to rule in his place, and all “chief priests” after Peter have the same power. Hermann explicitly noted that this position was asserted against those heretics who deride the Church,84 affirming in no uncertain terms that “the Roman pontifex is the head of the Church and the vicar of Christ from divine institution.”85 Whereas the head of any political structure is based on divine institution, since God had ordained it, and from such an establishment are derived the political ceremonies, laws, and customs which proceed from divine gifts, in the political structure of the Church from the very beginning the ceremonies, the rights of the sacraments, canon law, the decretals and the canons of the holy fathers are given by divine gifts through the authority of the Roman pontiff, who alone can authorize such rites, ceremonies, laws, and gifts, and “therefore the Roman pontiff is the head of the Church and the vicar of the true God from the institution itself of Christ.”86 Thus the pope, and only the pope, can absolve completely from both guilt (culpa) and punishment (poena), whereas lower level priests can do so only partly. Hermann appealed to the treasury of merit, of which the pope was in charge, to argue that the pope has unlimited power to absolve from guilt and punishment, which no other priest has,87 though the pope does not use such power in a regular fashion,88 echoing here Augustinus of Ancona’s argument with respect to the pope’s power over purgatory.89 Yet Hermann asserts that even the abnormal use of such power, since the pope has such power, is power that is the power of the kingdom of heaven, based

83 Saak, High Way to Heaven, 60–​62. 84 Herm. Tract. c. haer. 2,1 (ed. Zumkeller, 58,4–​12). 85 “… quod Romanus pontifex est caput Ecclesiae et vicarius Christi ex institutione divina. …” Herm. Tract. c. haer. 2,1 (ed. Zumkeller, 58,12–​13). 86 “Ille est caput alicuius politiae ex institutione divina, per quem et mediante quo Deus illam ordinavit et a quo illius politiae caeremoniae, iura et consuetudines divinitus dat processerunt. Sed in politiam ecclesiasticam ab initio processerunt caeremoniae et ritus sacramentorum, iura canonica et decreta seu canones sanctorum patrum tamquam dona divinitus data per auctoritatem Romani pontificis, quia, etsi talia per sanctos patres quandoque concepta fuerunt, tamen solum per auctoritatem Romani pontificis canonizata et authenticata fuerunt, quia ipse solus habet auctoritatem, qui universaliter authenitcat et canonizat. Ergo Romanus pontifex est caput Ecclesiae et Dei veri vicarius ex ipsa institutione Christi.” Herm. Tract. c. haer. 2,1 (ed. Zumkeller, 59,37–​47). 87 Herm. Tract. c. haer. 2, 11 (ed. Zumkeller, 81,52–​82,64). 88 Herm. Tract. c. haer. 2, 11 (ed. Zumkeller, 83,101–​85,192). 89 See Chapter 5 above, note 94; and Saak, High Way to Heaven, 115–​116.

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on true love,90 providing for the conditions of such a use that Augustinus saw were needed as well. Hermann was in effect setting up the natural hierachy in the church, which he had asserted implicitly against the heretics. He followed his argument here by explicitly noting that “the Roman pontifex has the plenitude of power in the Church and that by law (de iura) is able to be judged by no one, but rather has all within his power to judge,” to analyze the extent to which “all jurisdiction, most of all with respect to temporal matters and over temporal matter, is completely derived from the Church itself.” In answering in the affirmative, Hermann stipulated that “those heretics falsely presume to say that one priest does not have more authority and jurisdiction than another, unless conceded to him by the Emperor, since the jurisdiction over spiritual matters derives not from the Emperor, but rather the just jurisdiction over temporal matters derives from the Roman pontiff,”91 for which he offered multiple proofs.92 Though Hermann used the plural of “heretics” here, there is little doubt that the one he had specifically in mind was Marsilius. Hermann though was aware that the divine order as established by God in creation was not the same as the current situation given the effects of the fall. We will see in far more detail how Hermann viewed the impact of original sin on creation in the next example treating his treatise on the immaculate conception, but here it should be noted that Hermann recognized the discrepancy between the how God had intended the order to be, and the order as it was in the temporal realm. This recognition, however, did not undermine, but rather supported his assertion of the natural hierarchy of creation with the pope at the apex as ruling for God on earth. In treating the extent of the pope’s jurisdiction with respect to the final end of human salvation, Hermann posited the contrary argument that Jews, pagans, and heretics are part of the damned, and thus are outside the Church and consequently outside the jurisdiction of the pope and are not dependent on the pope because “not all humans of the world are ordained from divine providence to the end of eternal salvation, which the Church intends, since some are foreknown and damned. Therefore, according 90 Herm. Tract. c. haer. 2, 11 (ed. Zumkeller, 84, 133–​139). 91 “Ideo, postquam visum est, quod Romanus pontifex habet plenitudinem potestatis in Ecclesia et quod de iure a nullo potest iudicari, sed potius habet omnes homines iudicare, videndum restat, an omnis iusta iurisdictio, maxime in temporalibus et super temporalia, ab ipso in totam Ecclesiam derivetur. In quo apparebit, quam falso praesumant dicere isti haeretici, quod unus sacerdos non habet plus de auctoritate et iurisdictione quam alius, nisi Imperator concedat, cum non ab Imperatore iurisdictio super spiritualia, sed potius e contrario a Romano pontifice iusta iurisdictio super temporalia derivetur.” Herm. Tract. c. haer. 2, 12 (ed. Zumkeller, 86,6–​14). 92 Herm. Tract. c. haer. 2, 12 (ed. Zumkeller, 86,20–​94,290).

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to this it seems that no one is dependent on the Church except the predestined alone.”93 Hermann responded by asserting that all humans are indeed dependent on the Church because God wanted all humans to be saved. This however was based on God’s antecedent will, not his consequent will.94 All humans are created in the image of God, and to this extent are capable of salvation and thus have a natural aptitude to be members of the Church, yet no one can expect to be blessed with salvation, though based on the natural created nature of humans, all humans are ordered to the end of divine goodness and thus are obligated on the basis of their nature received from God to praise God and to serve Him in just and true worship, which is only to be found in the Church. Therefore all humans, even after the Fall, even the Jews, pagans, and heretics, are obligated to worship the true God, even if they do not do so and thus are damned, and consequently all humans, with respect to the final end of human life, are ultimately dependent on the Church.95 Thus too all right, licit, and just use of temporal goods are dependent on the Church, even though there can be a n right and just use of temporal goods even outside the Church, for what is right and just can be understood in two ways: first, as that, according to the material cause, by which then what is right and just is that which does not include what is illicit or based on vice, and in this way the use of temporal goods “is able to be right and just even outside the Church because it would not be based on vice or sin.”96 However, the other way of understanding what is right and just is based not only on the material cause, but also on the final cause, or final end, which is that which leads to eternal life, and thus all use of temporal goods is indeed dependent on the Church,97 for outside the Church there is no salvation.98 Indeed, in an absolute sense, only God has

93

“Constat enim, quod non omnes homines mundi ex providentia divnia ordinati sunt ad finem salutis aeternae, quem intendit Ecclesia, cum quidam sint praesciti et damnandi. Ergo secundum hoc videretur, quod nullus dependeret ab Ecclesia nisi solum praedestinati … Secundum hoc ergo videretur, quuod Judei, pagani, haeretici et universaliter omnes damnandi ab Ecclesia nullatenus dependerent.” Herm. Tract. c. haer. 1, 11 (ed. Zumkeller, 30,38–​48). 94 Herm. Tract. c. haer. 1, 11 (ed. Zumkeller, 30,49–​51). 95 Herm. Tract. c. haer. 1, 11 (ed. Zumkeller, 30,52–​62). 96 “Notandum est tamen, quod usus temporalium dupliciter potest censier rectus et iustus. Uno modo, quia cadit super debitam materiam cum debitis circumstantiis, et sic intelligitur iustus vel rectus quia non est illicitus vel vitiosus. Et isto modo etiam posset esse rectus extra Ecclesiam, quia non esset vitiosus aut peccatum.” Herm. Tract. c. haer. 1, 13 (ed. Zumkeller, 35,52–​56). 97 Herm. Tract. c. haer. 1, 13 (ed. Zumkeller, 35,56–​60). 98 Herm. Tract. c. haer. 1, 11 (ed. Zumkeller, 29,6).

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direct lordship (dominium) in all things, both temporal and spiritual, and no created thing has such direct lordship, yet the Church does have such lordship in a civil since, because while the empire has it would seem direct lordship over temporal goods, they do so only privately, directed toward to common good, but the empire does not have such lordship naturally, for naturally all goods were held in common. By nature, by which Hermann means nature as created by God, there is no lordship of human over humans, yet by nature there is lordship of the divine and eternal over what is human, and of the spirit over the body, and thus is the relationship between temporal lordship of the emperor and the divine lordship of the Church.99 By its very nature the Church has all lordship, and all lordship is dependent on the Church, because human lordship, as is the lordship of the emperor, is based on human law, not on the divine law, or the law of nature, which Hermann seems to equate.100 Even in its fallen state, human society is still governed by its final end, which applies to all humans, and the Church with its head the pope, who rules for God on earth, sits atop the hierarchy of progressive states of perfection, on which all other lesser powers, based on the temporal conditions after the fall, depend as on the architectonic leading to the final end of all creation, eternal salvation, and does so ex naturalibus, even if not all will attain thereto. Hierarchy is the natural state of creation, and the final end to which all creation tends. Anyone who might dismiss or question that hierarchy, or attempt to undermine it, is a heretic, against whom Hermann argued viscerally. While a thorough analysis of Hermann’s Tractatus in its historical context, including a thorough comparison with Marsilius, would necessitate a separate study, the evidence presented above demonstrates that Hermann’s Tractatus was a sophisticated work equal to those of James and Giles and should be equally considered as a contribution to the development of papal hierocratic theory in the fierce religio-​political controversies of the early fourteenth century.101 Moreover, Hermann’s knowledge and use of Augustine far 99 Herm. Tract. c. haer. 1, 14 (ed. Zumkeller, 39,142–​40,164). 100 Herm. Tract. c. haer. 1, 15 (ed. Zumkeller, 43,58–​45,113). 101 Scholarship has in general ignored Hermann. Jürgen Miethke, for example, mentioned Hermann only once in his treatment of treatises dealing with papal power in the later Middle Ages, and did so simply as one of many scholars who wrote treatises refuting the six articles John xxii had culled from Marsilius’ Defensor Pacis, and as the last one to have done so; Jürgen Miethke, De Potestate Papae, 233. Yet Hermann’s Tractatus, as evidenced here above, was by no means focused on refuting specially the six articles, though the third part thereof may have been. It is a theoretical work, certainly though with Marsilius as the major opponent, focused on the authority and jurisdiction of the Church and the Church’s head, the pope, that should be given the same estimation as the works of James of Viterbo and Giles of Rome.

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exceeded that of James or Giles, or Marsilius as well, reflecting the origins of the Augustinian renaissance that was at its beginnings when Hermann composed his work. The new Augustine scholarship, the new appropriation of Augustine that affected a rebirth of Augustine in the later Middle Ages had its origins in the papal-​imperial conflicts surrounding John xxii and Louis of Bavaria, with the Hermits serving as the architects of papal theory. Hermann’s role therein was significant, even if heretofore unknown and/​or unrecognized. And Hermann’s Tractatus was not the product of one of the Order’s magistri at Paris or Oxford, but that of a lector in Erfurt and Herford. It was, moreover, not his only contribution. 2.2 Tractatus de Conceptione Gloriosae Virginis Mariae Hermann’s influence on the later Middle Ages was not limited to political theory. Indeed, his impact in the realm of pastoral theology, a central component of the Augustinians’ mendicant theology, was far more extensive, based on the extant evidence. Of his numerous works, his Tractatus de conceptione gloriosae virginis Mariae stands out as of particular significance. The work, dated to c. 1350 during Hermann’s time in Würzburg, is extant in three manuscripts, and was dedicated to Lupold of Bebenburg, a doctor of law at Würzburg and Mainz, and Dean of St. Severus in Erfurt. Lupold became bishop of Bamberg in 1353.102 Hermann respected his legal knowledge, and had asked Lupold for his opinions as Hermann was constructing his own treatise against the Waldensians for the clergy of Würzburg.103 They had, as Hermann affirmed, been friends for “many years” and Lupold had endowed the celebration of the Feast of the Immaculate Conception in Würzburg.104 Hermann may have composed his treatise to support the effort. The Feast of the Immaculate Conception, celebrated on December 8, had its origins in the Eastern Church in late antiquity, and in the West can de dated to the eighth century. It wasn’t until 1476, however, that Pope Sixtus iv made it a solemn feast of the entire Latin.105 Hermann’s Tractatus de conceptione beatae Mariae Virginis is, according to 102 On Lupold, see Christoph Flüeler, “Acht Fragen über die Herrschaft des Papstes. Lupold von Bebenburg und Wilhelm von Okham im Kontext,” in Kaufhold, ed., Politische Reflexion, 225–​246; Lupold von Bebenburg, Politische Schriften, MGH, Staatsschriften iv, ed Jürgen Miethke and Christoph Flüeler (Munich, 2004), Einleitung, v-​vii, 1–​148. 103 Zumkeller, Schriftum, 104. Hermann’s treatis is his Tractatus contra Leonistas seu Pauperes de Lugduno et eorum sequaces, dicentes missae comparationem esse speciem simoniae. See Zumkeller, Schriften, 101–​113. 104 Zumkeller, Schriftum, 80–​82. 105 Frederick Holweck, “Immaculate Conception,” in The Catholic Encyclopedia 7 (New York, 1910), online at: https://​www.newadv​ent.org/​cat​hen/​076​74d.htm.

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Zumkeller, “the first work published in Germany defending the immaculate conception of Mary.”106 Hermann’s treatise is an academic, theological treatment of the issue, rather than one of spirituality or pious devotion, though it is not without spiritual or devotional aspects. Hermann cited twenty authorities, though once again Augustine is the overwhelming favorite. Hermann cited authorities ninty-​ six times, of which Augustine accounts for thirty-​eight, or almost 40%. The next most frequently cited author is Anselm, with twelve citations, followed by Bernard of Clairvaux with eight, Ambrose with six, and Aristotle with five. Hermann cited Jerome four times, and both Gratian’s Decretum and Lombard’s Sentences three times. Twice Hermann cited Averroes, Damascenus, Robert Grosseteste, Pope Leo the Great, and Richard of St. Victor, with single citations then to Chrysostom, Dionysius, Gregory the Great, Hostiensis (Henricus de Segusio), Isidore, Thomas Aquinas, and the Vitae Patrum. Of his thirty-​eight citations of Augustine, twelve are unspecific (e.g. secundum Augustinum, auctoritas Augustini, etc.). Of the specific citations, in addition to the Epistolae, Hermann cited from twelve different works of Augustine, with the most frequent being, after Ep. 187 with five citations, De Genesi ad litteram, De natura et gratia, and De fide ad Petrum each with three citations, and then the Confessiones with two. Single citations are to De sancta virginitate, De vera religione, Tractatus in Iohannis evangelium, De perfectione iustitiae hominis, De nuptiis et concupiscentia, and Enarrationes in psalmos, and then two pseudo-​Augustinian works, in addition to De fide ad Petrum, the De assumptione beatae Mariae virginis and the Sermo de assumptione et ratione, which Hermann cited as authentic. Hermann began his treatise with brief summary of his work, followed then by a more detailed outline, before the epistolary prologue to Lupold.107 Henry divided his work into two parts. The first treated the issue of the immaculate conception itself, showing “how the Blessed Virgin in her own conception was prevented from being infected with the dark gloom of the abyss of original sin.”108 In the second part, then, Hermann turned to defending the legitimacy 106 “… ist Hermanns Traktat das erste Werk, das in Deutschland zur Verteidigung der unbeflechten Empfängnis Mariens veröffentlicht wurde.” Zumkeller, Schriftum, 81. 107 Tractatus de conceptione gloriosae virginis Mariae, ed. Adolar Zumkeller. Hermanni de Scildis, O.S.A. Tractatus contra haereticos negantes immunitatem et iurisdictionem sanctae Ecclesieae et Tractatus de conception gloriosae virginis Mariae. Würzburg, 1970, 109–​ 162; Sententia Summaria et Brevis Recollectio Opusculi (ed. Zumkeller, 111,1–​26); Ordo Dicendorum (ed. Zumkeller, 111,3–​116,162; Prologus Epistolaris (ed. Zumkeller, 116,2–​117,65); hereafter cited as: Herm. Tract. de conc. 108 “Et ipsum in duas partes distinguitur. In quarum prima sub novem capitulis ostenditur, quomdo beata Virgo in sua conceptione praeventa fuit, ne inficeretur peccati originalis

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of the feast of the Immaculate Conception, regardless of one’s position on the first issue, namely, whether the Blessed Virgin was conceived completely immaculately or not.109 With regard to the first issue, Herman established four ways in which the immaculate conception should be considered. The first was with respect to God’s omnipotence; the second with respect to God’s decency; the third regards the indecent stain of original sin; and the fourth was with respect to the privileges and unique excellence of the Blessed Virgin herself.110 At the basis of each of these was the nature and effect of original sin itself. Hermann considered original sin to be an “abyss,” but one that was not an intrinsic part of human nature. “Original sin,” Hermann argued, “only is a part of human nature by the extrinsic ordination and free will of God.”111 The reason Hermann offered that original sin was not an intrinsic part of human nature was that before the Fall, as originally created, humans were not infected with original sin, and therefore original sin cannot be intrinsic to human nature since human nature was originally in the state of innocence.112 Yet the effects of original sin are great, and Hermann spelled out three such effects: first, on account of original sin humans became a son or daughter of anger (filius irae) naturally and from nature; second, every human infected with original sin is handed over to the power of Satan; and third, original sin condemns everyone to eternal death.113 Yet because original sin is not intrinsic to human nature, God in His omnipotence can remove the defects of original sin at any time

abyssi caligine.” Hen., Tract. de conc., Sententia Summaria et Brevis Recollectio Opusculi (ed. Zumkeller, 111,6–​8). 109 “Ex quibus omnibus infertur, quod nihil horrendum apparet in celebritate festi benedictae conceptionis Virginis, sive ponatur in originali peccato concepta sive non secundum quamcumque opinionem.” Hen. Tract. de conc., Sententia Summaria et Brevis Recollectio Opusculi (ed. Zumkeller, 111,21–​24); “Sed conceptio Virginis, quocumque modo accipiatur, primo vel secundo vel tertio, ordinatur ad sanctificationem Ecclesiae universalis, ut supra multipliciter est deductum. Ergo eius celebritas non abhorrebitur propter concursum alicuius peccati vel criminis.” Herm., Tract. de conc., 2,10 (ed. Zumkeller, 158,17–​20). 110 Herm. Tract. de conc. 1 (ed. Zumkeller, 118,23–​26). 111 “Praeterea defectus ille, qui originale peccatum dicitur, non consequitur ex intrinseca natura rei, sed soluim ab extrinseca ordinatione et libera voluntate Dei. Quidquid enim consequitur ex intrinseca natura rei, maxime in primo modo dicenti per se, hoc Deus pro nullo tempore potest amovere. Sed defectum originalis peccati per quemcumque contractum Deus statim posset amovere, etiam secundum oppositum opinantes. Ergo originale peccatum solum consequitur naturam humanam extrinseca ordinatione et libera voluntate Dei.” Herm. Tract. de conc. 1,1 (ed. Zumkeller, 120,79–​87). 112 Herm. Tract. de conc. 1,2 (ed. Zumkeller, 125,82–​84). 113 Herm. Tract. de conc. 1,3 (ed. Zumkeller, 128,4–​129,15).

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and thus God in his omnipotence preserved his own mother in her conception from the stain of being infected with original sin.114 Yet depending on how original sin is to be understood, Hermann could accept that the Blessed Virgin was indeed conceived in original sin. Hermann distinguished three modes of understanding original sin. First, original sin can be understood “as infection, which comes about in the libidinous act and the concupiscence of the flesh in the mixing of the seeds”;115 second, original sin can be taken as referring to the “the morbid infection following the body organized in the womb, just as is corruption and the unclean kindling”;116 and third, original sin can be taken most properly as that infection by which the soul is infected when it is infused in the body. And thus it is not some positive form in the soul, neither is it the lack of original righteousness alone, because if God created one human from nothing (de nihilo) in pure nature, that human would not have original sin yet nevertheless would lack original righteousness, which, according to Augustine, is a supernatural gift. And in this way of considering it, original sin is nothing other than being charged with the eternal punishment of damnation, namely, the eternal lack of the vision of the divine essence, stemming from the sin of our first parents affecting all who are propagated from them naturally.117 With respect to the first two modes of understanding original sin, Hermann agreed that “it is able to be conceded truthfully that the blessed Virgin herself was conceived in original sin.”118 This is not the case, however, with respect 1 14 Herm. Tract. de conc. 1,1 (ed. Zumkeller, 121,95–​103). 115 “Item sciendum est, quod peccatum originale accipitur multis modis. Uno modo pro infectione, quae fit ex actu libidinoso et concupiscentia carnis in commixtione seminum.” Herm. Tract. de conc. 1,6 (ed. Zumkeller, 138,19–​21). 116 “Secundo modo accipitur pro infectione morbida corpus organisatum in utero consequente, sicut est corruptio et immunditia fomitis.” Herm. Tract. de conc. 1,6 (ed. Zumkeller, 138,28–​29). 117 “Tertio modo accipitur magis proprie pro infectione illa, qua anima inficitur, quando corpori infunditur. Et sic non est aliqua forma positiva in anima nec est solius originalis iustitiae carentia; quia si unum hominem Deus crearet de nihilo in puris naturalibus, ille non haberet peccatum originale et tamen careret iustitia originali, quae secundum Augustinum est donum supernaturale. Et isto modo non est aliud nisi reatus ad poenam aeternam damni, scilicet ad carentiam aeternam visionis divniae essentiae, proveniens ex peccato primi parentis in omnes, qui ab ipso naturaliter propagantur.” Herm. Tract. de conc. 1,6 (ed. Zumkeller, 139,38–​46). 118 “… de peccato originali primo modo … vel secundo modo … potest veraciter concedi, quod ipsa in origniali concepta est.” Herm. Tract. de conc. 1,7 (ed. Zumkeller, 141,18–​26).

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to the third mode of understanding, though Hermann had some explaining to do since Scripture seemed to indicate that an immaculate conception was not possible since Paul clearly stated in Romans 5:12 that Therefore, just as sin entered the world through one man, and death through sin, and in this way death came to all people, because all sinned (niv) and in Romans 5:18, Consequently, just as one trespass resulted in condemnation for all people, so also one righteous act resulted in justification and life for all people (niv), and in 1 Corinthians 15:22, as in Adam all die, so in Christ all will be made alive.119 He did so by making the distinction between original sin as understood in the third way in actuality (de facto) and in principle (de iure). In principle, or de iure, the blessed Virgin, as all humans as indicated by Paul, was subject to sin and death, yet she was preserved from such in actuality, or de facto, and this distinction implies no contradiction.120 Hermann had previously set this up in the previous chapter when he first discussed the three modes of understanding original sin. After the third mode, Hermann clarified that “that which inheres in a thing of itself through nature is said to inhere in it even if it is prevented or preserved by some agent that it is not present in it.”121 Thus the air, in and of itself, is without light, though has light from the sun, even though not from its own nature, and indeed every creature is based on its own rationale from nothing (ex nihilo) though it is prevented from falling into nothing and preserved in existence by God lest it might become nothing or fall into nothing, and even if it had been from all eternity and never was nothing, nevertheless in and of itself it is from nothing (ex nihilo), although there was never a time when it was nothing (nihil).122 Thus the blessed Virgin, Hermann concluded, was de iure conceived in original sin, in keeping with the first two modes of understanding, but de facto was preserved from original sin with respect to the infusion of her soul.123 Hermann then began the second part of his treatise, which focused on the validity of the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, by asserting the various privileges and special graces Mary had received. There were, Hermann argued, four blessings regarding the Immaculate Conception. First, God blessed the conception of the seed of her material body so that in her conception and birth the mother of God would be most beloved above all other creatures.

1 19 Herm. Tract. de conc. 1,8 (ed. Zumkeller, 143,22–​43). 120 Herm. Tract. de conc. 1,7 (ed. Zumkeller, 141,27–​142,36). 121 “Iterum sciendum, quod illud, quod inest rei per naturam ex se, dicitur ei inesse etiam, si ab aliquo agente praeveniatur vel praeservetur, ne hoc ei insit.” Herm. Tract. de conc. 1,6 (ed. Zumkeller, 139,49–​51). 122 Herm. Tract. de conc. 1,6 (ed. Zumkeller, 139,51–​59). 123 Herm. Tract. de conc. 1,8 (ed. Zumkeller, 146,107–​109).

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Second, God blessed the formation of Mary’s body in her conception so that she would bear royal beauty and dignity, exceeding in holiness other saints as a temple of the triune deity. Third, God blessed the infusion of Mary’s soul with the image of the Holy Trinity by which she would be the “neck and veins” of all the beauty of grace which she would receive from her Head, Christ and this blessing was chosen for Mary in the very creation of her most holy soul. Fourth, Mary received the blessing in the infusion of her soul of the plenitude of divine grace and goodness so that she would be able to communicate grace to saints and the plenitude of mercy to sinners, though this fourth blessing would only be fully complete in the conception of her son. Yet these four blessings were not the only ones, for Mary’s soul proceeded most specially in its creation and ordination from the entire Trinity.124 In doing so, God had also blessed Mary’s parents, Anna and Joachim, so that Joachim, who had been sterile, was able to father a child and the conception itself was miraculous, achieved without libidinous concupiscence, so that Mary’s conception was performed in the manner that, as Augustine described, would have been the mode of conception and procreation in paradise had Adam and Eve not fallen. Moreover, Mary’s conception was, in a way, a recapitulation of creation itself, for Mary’s conception had its origins in God’s blessing of the seventh day, which was the fullness of time after the six days of creation which prefigured the six ages of the world, but the seventh day, the sabbath, and the seventh age began with the conception of the blessed Virgin Mary.125 Thus the Feast of the Immaculate Conception is most warranted and in no way should be shunned. Yet Hermann then perhaps surprisingly continued to claim that the Feast of the Immaculate Conception would be valid and should be honored even if one might not accept all his arguments for the immaculate conception itself. Even if Mary had been conceived in original sin after all, the Feast of the Immaculate Conception was celebrated for the sanctification of the universal Church,126 wherefore no reason could be given that anything with respect to Mary’s conception, regardless of how one might depict it, should detract from the celebration of the most holy Feast of the Immaculate Conception with all worthiness and veneration.127 Hermann’s Tractatus de conceptione gloriosae Virginis Mariae was a theological investigation of original sin and its implications for Mary’s conception

1 24 Herm. Tract. de conc. 2,1 (ed. Zumkeller, 150,6–​34). 125 Herm. Tract. de conc. 2,4 (ed. Zumkeller, 154,129–​155,170). 126 Herm. Tract. de conc. 2,10 (ed. Zumkeller, 158,4–​159,54). 127 Herm. Tract. de conc. 2,10 (ed. Zumkeller, 160,67–​69).

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in defense of the Church’s Feast. In theological content and in appeal to authority, Hermann composed the first treatise on the immaculate conception in Germany with a clear Augustinian stamp. If the principle lex orandi, lex credendi adequately describes the relationship between worship and belief, Hermann advocated a closely related principle within that relationship of lex celebrandi, lex docendi. 2.3 Speculum Manuale Sacerdotum Hermann’s Speculum Manuale Sacerdotum was his most popular work, based on the 148 extant manuscripts and the nine early printed editions. It circulated with ten separate dedications: 1. A general dedication to the bishops and priests of the Church; 2. A dedication to all priests of the Roman Church; 3. A dedication to the Archbishop of Cologne, Walram von Jülich; 4. A dedication to the Bishop of Osnabrück Gottfried and his clergy; 5. A dedication to the Bishop of Bamberg, Friedirch I von Hohenlohe, to the Bamberg Deacon Friedrich von Hohenlohe,128 and to the clergy of Bamberg; 6. A dedication to the Bishop of Münster Ludwig ii of Hessen and his clergy; 7. A dedication to Propst Erich von Schauenberg of the Church in Hamburg; 8. A dedication to the canons of Herford and their Hebdomadar Heinrich von Brokelhusen and the Herford clergy; 9. A dedication to the Bishop of Lüttich Engelbert von der Mark and his clergy; and 10. A dedication to the Bishop of Strassburg Bertold von Bucheck and his clergy. It also circulated without a dedication.129 Hermann’s Speculum is a practical handbook for the simple parish priest. From the priesthood, Hermann explained, stemmed the salvation of all Christian people, and it would be negligent on his part, a doctor of the holy Scriptures, if he ignored his responsibility to the priesthood. Thus he compiled a simple handbook for the instruction of simple parish priests.130 To do so,

128 Seemingly two different individuals: Zumkeller gives the dates for Bishop Friedrich I as 1344–​1352 and for Friedrich the Cathedral Deacon (Domdekan) as 1325–​1351; Zumkeller, Schriftum, 41. 129 Zumkeller, Schriftum, 40–​42. 130 “… frater Hermanus de Scildis ordinis fratrum heremitarum sancti Augustini, inter sacerdotes christicolas [ms: Christi sola] dei patientia professoris in sacra pagina nomen habens, cum devotis orationibus in sacerdotali officio et sacramentali ministerio digne creatori omnium famulari … Unde patet quod ex sacerdotali officio et sacramentali ministerio emanat salus Christianorum omnium populorum. Ex quo per ipsos Christum induimus et membra eius efficimur et quod eorum officium est summe gloriosum, asit ergo, carissimi, a nobis rem istam facere ut infereamur crimen glorie nostre … Crimen autem imponeremus glorie nostre, si sacerdotale officium et sacramentale ministerium nos contigeret ignorare … Eapropter patres ac domini mei reverendi, de dictis doctorum tam

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Chapter 7 Speculum manuale sacerdotum, outline (based on Den Haag, kb, ms 70 G 19, fol. 7r-​20v)

Prologus

Superficies speculi sacerdotum est tres. Prima reprensentat speculanda circa baptismum. Secunda circa eucaristie sacramentum. //​f.8r//​Tertia circa sacramentum penitentie. Prima superficies speculi sacerdotis representat speculanda circa baptismum sub quatuor speciebus representationis, que sunt materia et forma baptismi, intentio baptisantis et baptisandi, et remedia generalia contra defectum. Prima species huius speculi in prima sacrifice representat tenenda, cavenda, et emendanda circa materiam baptismi que debet ese pura aqua.

Tenenda circa materiam baptismi

Cavenda circa materiam baptismi

Emendanda circa materiam baptismi

Secunda species prime superficiei representat tenenda, cavenda et emendanda circa formam baptismi

Cavenda circa formam baptismi

Emendanda circa formam baptismi

Tertia species prime superficiei representat tenenda, cavenda, et emendanda circa intentionem baptisantis

Cavenda circa intentionem baptisantis

Emendanda circa intentionem baptisantis

Quarta species prime superficiei huius speculi representat remedia generalia contra defectus in baptismo incidentes.

Secunda superficies speculi sacerdotum representat speculanda circa sacramentum eucaristie sub quatuor speciebus representatis que sunt materia et forma eucaristie, intentio sacerdotis consecrantis, et remedia contra defectum huius sacramenta. Prima species in secunda superficie huius speculi representat tenenda, cavenda et emendanda circa materiam eucaristie.

Tenenda circa materiam eucaristie

Cavenda circam materiam eucaristie

Emendanda circa materiam eucaristie

Tenenda circa formam eucaristie

Cavenda circa formam eucaristie

Emendanda circa formam eucaristie

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Speculum manuale sacerdotum, outline (cont.)

Prologus





In quarta autem specie huius superficiei secunde querre reliqua si qua circa formam occurerint emendanda Tenenda circa intentionem consecrantis Cavenda circa intentionem consecrantis Emendanda circa intentionem consecrantis Quarta species in secunda superficie continet remedia generalia contra defectus circa consecrationem eucaristie I tem si canone iam incepto recordatur sacerdos quod non habet circa se stolam aut //​fol. 16v//​manipulum, dico quod nichilominus prosequatur officium et postmodum peniteat de negligentia. Si autem defecerit lumen vel forte extinguatur, tunc si habeat tantum unum astantem non emittat pro igne, quia credo quod tutius est celebrare sine igne quam sine astante.

Tercia superficies huius speculi sacerdotum representat speculanda circa sacramentum penitentie sub quatuor speciebus representationis que sunt materia et forma penitentie, intentio confessoris et confitentis, et remedia contra defectum huius sacramenti

Prima species in tercia superficie huius speculi representat tenenda, cavenda et emendanda circa materiam penitentie

Cavenda circa materiam penitentie

Emmendanda circa materiam penitentie

Tenenda circa formam penitentie

Cavenda circa formam penitentie

Emendanda circa formam penitentie

Tercia species tertie superficiei suius speculi representat tenenda cavenda et emendanda circa intentionem penitentis

Cavenda circa intentionem penitentis

Emendanda circa intentionem penitentis

Quarta species tertie superficiei huius speculi representat remedia generalia contra defectus circa penitentiam incidents

Quomodo occuratur confessor

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he focused on the administration and treatment of the three foundational sacraments pertaining to salvation: baptism, the eucharist, and confession or penitence.131 Hermann divided his treatment of each of these three sacraments into a section on the material of the sacrament and on the form of the sacrament, setting forth the proper celebration and warning against wrongful practice that could or would impede the efficacy of the sacrament. Though there are some omissions, or simply skips, Hermann treated what was necessary for the sacrament, what problems should be avoided, and how to handle mistakes for each sacrament with respect both to the material of the sacrament and the form of the sacrament, as seen in the conents of the treatise as presented in Table 12.132 The overriding concern of Hermann was to relieve simple parish priests from the anxiety of getting things wrong, even as he stressed those elements that they must get right. Thus at the outset, dealing with baptism, after stipulating that the liquid used for baptism must be water, and certainly pure water if at all possible, if the liquid a priest had might have other substances mixed with it, such as wine, beer, oil, tree sap or saliva, it would be permissible to use as long as the species of water was still discernable.133 If though a priest was uncertain whether the liquid he had on hand for baptism was sufficient, he sacre theologie quam sacrorum canonum collegi unum breve ac perlucidum speculum ad honorem sancte matris ecclesie et profectum simplicium et pauperum sacerdotum, quod ideo sub simplicitate verborum et sine allegationibus compilavi, ut simplicioribus presertim iuris ignaris non sit ad legendum et intelligendum difficile et ad comperandum non sit pauperibus sumptuosum.” Hermannus de Scildis, Speculum Manuale Sacerdotum, Prol., Den Haag, kb, ms 70 G 19, fol. 7r-​20v; fol. 7r; hereafter cited as: Herm. Spec. 131 “In quo quidem speculo sacerdotes lucide poterunt reperire quomodo rite tractentis et amministrent tria precipua sacramenta que pre aliis pertinent ad eorum ministerium et ad christianorum salutem populorum. Qualia sunt sacramentum baptismi, quod est ianua, et eucaristie quod est excellentissimum omnium sacramentorum, et sacramentum penitentie quod est secunda tabula post naufragium.” Herm. Spec. Prol., fol. 7r-​v. 1 32 I have added section numbers according to the rubrics of the manuscript. I will cite the work from here on out according to the sections enumerated here. 133 “Materia baptismi debet esse aqua pura vel de fluvio vel de fonte puteo vel de mari. Et potest hec aqua resolvi de glacie vel de nive vel de pluvia seu pruina vel colligi de rore, potest ectiam esse de balneis naturalibus dummodo speciem aque retineant. Et potest esse aqua cocta dummodo species aque non sit mutata sicut mutatur in cervisia et in brodiis pingnium. Calida vel tepida tutior est in hyeme licet possit esse calida vel frigida. Nec obest, sit aliqius liquor aque sit permixtus, dum tamen naturales qualitates et species aque per hoc non sint sublate. Circa materiam baptismi cavenda sunt ista: ne sit aqua nimis lutosa, ne sit mel, vinum vel oleum, lac, cervisia, medo vel lixivium valde spissa, ne sit saliva vel aqua distillata sicut rosacea et consimiles, ne sit aqua distillans de incisione arborum sictu suctus que emanat de vite incisa, vel suctus herbarum, ne sit aqua

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could go ahead with the baptism but would need to do so conditionally, using the form of: “If you are baptized, I do not baptize you; if you are not baptized, I baptize you in the name of the father, and of the son, and of the holy spirit.”134 The unconditional form of baptism is indeed: “I baptize you in the name of the father, and of the son, and of the holy spirit, Amen,” though the words “I” and “Amen” do not form part of the substance of the form of baptism and if they are omitted, though a priest would sin gravely in doing so, nevertheless the baptism would be valid.135 The same conditional form is to be used when there are any doubts about the validity of the one being baptized. Thus in the case of conjoined twins, the priest needs to discern which head goes with the heart and baptize that head and then baptize the other head conditionally, though if there are discernably two heads and two hearts, each head is to be baptized.136 Another problem case he addressed was if a pregant woman ready to give birth was on her death bed, the priest should in no way cut out the baby to be baptized, nor should the baby be baptized still in the mother’s womb because, he affirmed, one not yet born cannot be baptized.137 Hermann likewise recognized, it seems, that simple parish priests might not have a great understanding of Latin, or of liturgical forms. Thus he was careful to warn that additions or changes to the stipulated form of baptism were not allowed; one could not baptize someone in the name of the creator; or in the name of the Holy Trinity, God, or Jesus Christ; or in the name of the greater father and the

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facta per artem alchimie, vel de resolutione salis vel aqua salsa in tantum decocta quod statim convertibilis sit in sal, ne sit aqua sulfurea vel alluminosa emanans de mineris que nullo modo colorem vel saporem naturalem retinet aqua, unde nec speciem aque videtur habere, et licet si aliquid de premissis liquoribus cum aqua sit mixtum, possit adhuc fieri baptismus in ea.” Herm. Spec. 1,1–​2, fol. 8r-​v. “Si probabile dubium est an in illo liquore fuerit species aque, talis sub conditione baptisetur, dicendo: Si es baptisatus non te baptiso, sed si non es baptisatus, ego baptiso te, in nomine patris, et filii, et spiritus sancti.” Herm. Spec. 1,3, fol. 8v. “Forma baptismi est ista: Ego te baptiso amen in nomine patris, et filii, et spiritus sancti. ‘Ego’ tamen et ‘amen’ non sunt substantia huius forme sed de evidentia. Graviter tamen peccaret, qui has duas dictionem obmitteret, licet baptismus esset.” Herm. Spec. 1,4, fol. 8v. “Cum autem invenitur aliquis puer proiectus vel expositus in cimiterio vel platea si certum est ex aliquo iudicio eum non fore baptisatum, absolute baptisandus est, si dubitatur, cum conditione baptisetur. Si nascatur puer cum duobus capitibus qui habet duo colla et duo pectora distincta presumitur quod ibi sint duo corda et due anime, ergo ut duo homines singillatim baptisandi sunt. Si tamen dubitetur an sint duo homines illa pars in qua maior vivacitas apparet primo baptisetur aliud caput et alia pars cum conditione.” Herm. Spec. 1,10, fol. 10v-​11r. “Morte autem matris imminente antequam pareat nullatenus debet scindi ut puer baptisetur nec potest puer in ea baptisari, eciam si mater aqua perfundatur quia nemo potest renasci antequam nascitur.” Herm. Spec. 1,10, fol. 11r.

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lesser son, as did Arius; or in the name of the father, the son, the holy spirit, and the blessed Virgin and Saint Nicholas, though some claim, Hermann clarified, that such additions, providing they are not believed to be necessary, do not impede the efficacy of the baptism.138 And if one’s Latin wasn’t up to snuff, one should not worry too much, as long as one got the first part of the word correct. A priest could not baptize in nomine matris or atris, but if a priest erred with respect to grammar and baptized someone in nomine patrias out of ignorance there was no problem and the baptism would be valid.139 Hermann took a similar approach with respect to the Eucharist. Thus the bread is to be made from wheat, not spelt or other grains, though if other grains are mixed in as long as the bread is predominately wheat it is permissible. The wine is to be made from grapes and can be red or white.140 The form of the sacrament are the words of institution, for the bread, “This is my body,” and for the wine, “this is the cup of my blood of the new and eternal testament, the mystery of faith, which is poured out for you and for many for the remission of sins,” and the elements are not to be elevated before speaking these words.141 The words of consecration can be said in Latin, Greek, or Hebrew, 138 “Ista sunt cavenda circa hanc formam, ne dicat lavo vel balneo, vel in nomine genitoris et geniti et flaminis almi, vel in nomine trinitatis vel dei vel Ihesu Cristi. Item ne fiat aliqua additio maxime erronea, ut fuit additio Arrii, qui baptisabat in nomine patris maioris et filii minoris. Cavenda est eciam omnis alia additio, scilicet ne dicatur: in [nomine add. in marg. interlin. per Rubricatorem] patris et filii et spiritus sancti et beate virginis et sancti Nycolai, licet quidam dicant talem additionem non obesse, nisi tunc sine tali additione baptisans non crederet posse baptismum fieri.” Herm. Spec. 1,5, fol. 9r. 139 “Cavenda est etiam omnis diminutio vel corruptio maxime circa principium dictionis, scilicet ne quis dicat: atris vel matris pro patris et sic de similibus, non enim fieret baptismus sic dicendo, quia sublatum esset significatum dictionis. Si tamen ex simplicitate et sine omni malicia fieret diminutio vel corruptio circa finem dictionis alicuius non obesset. Verbi gratia: Si quis diceret patri vel patrias aut filias ex ignorantia vel simplicitate non noceret.” Herm. Spec. 1,5, fol. 9r. 140 “Materia eucaristie est panis de puro tritico et purum vinum vitis et in utraque materia potest esse permixtio quia raro invenitur triticum sine omni permixtione granorum alterius speciei. Unde talis permixtio non nocet quamdiu tanta non est quod speciem tritici tollat. Quidam autem dicunt quod possit confiti cum pane confecto de spelta vel farre quid tamen verum esse non credo nec hoc aliis doctoribus placet. Vinum autem debet esse de vite, nec mixtio nocet dummodo speciem non tollat. Appositio aqua non est de necessitate sacramenti licet graviter peccaret qui eam non apponeret sacramentum tamen conficeret. Potest autem vinum esse rubeum vel album dummodo retinet speciem vini.” Herm. Spec. 2,1 fol. 11r. 141 “Ista est forma consecrationis corporis: Hoc est enim corpus meum. Hec tamen coniunctio ‘enim’ non est de substantia forme licet gravissime peccaret qui eam obmitteret. Forma consecrationis sanguinis est hec: hic est enim calix sanguinis mei novi et eterni testamenti misterium fidei que pro vobis et pro multis effundtur in remissionem peccatorum.

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but Hermann was very unsure if they could be said in German or Hungarian and referred his readers to Rome to make such a determination.142 The words themselves however must be said correctly, without additions or omissions. One cannot say “This is body” or “This is my,” for no consecration will take place. Yet if one omits the word enim in the formulation, that is not a problem, though it is not a good thing, and it is not a major issue of one omits words preceding or following the words of consecration.143 Regarding problems that might occur in the celebration of the Eucharist, Hermann addressed the issues of what to do if a fly or a spider falls into the consecrated chalice, or a mouse or other animal gobbles up a crumb of consecrated bread. The remedy for both was similar. One would have to pick out the spider or fly carefully, burn it, and preserve its ashes;144 likewise, one would, if possible, have to catch the mouse (though Hermann did not give instructions for how to do so, or how to tell which mouse it might have been who Nec prius sacerdos debet calicem elevare nisi hiis verbis conplete dictis.” Herm. Spec. 2,4 fol. 11v. The Mainz 1477 edition of the work reads “ministerium fidei” for “misterium fidei”; fol. 7r; http://​daten.digit​ale-​sam​mlun​gen.de/​0003/​bsb0​0039​430/​ima​ges/​index.html?id=​ 00039​430&groes​ser=​&fip=​xswxd​syds​dase​ayae​ayax​dsyd​yzts​ewq&no=​27&seite=​17. 142 “Forme autem non debent mutari in quecumque alia verba etiam si eundum sensum haberent, quia per illa non conficeretur. Non est tamen dubium quoniam conficiatur in lingua Greca, Hebraica, et Latina, quia in hiis tribus linguis fuit scriptus titulus crucis Christi, quamvis Christus solum credatur in lingua Hebraica confecisse. Unde sine preiudicio sententie melioris credo quod in linguis barbaris cuiusmodi sunt omnes alie lingue preter istas tres consecrari non debeat, cum apostoli expresse non legantur in aliis linguis consecrasse, et titulus crucis Christi scriptus non fuit nisi Hebraice, Grece pariter et Latine. Si tamen sacerdos hec eadem verba in lingua Theutonica vel Ungaria diceret super materia debita an vere conficeret non audeo dicere, sed dico potius sedem apostolicam consulendam licet secus sit de baptismo quod est sacramentum necessitatis.” Herm. Spec. 2,5 fol. 12r. 1 43 “Cavendum est autem ne hiis verbis aliquid addatur, vel de eis aliquid diminuatur, quia si diceretur: hoc est enim corpus, vel hoc est meum, non consecraretur. Utrum tamen addens vel minuens sit excominicatus non memini me legisse … Si obmissa essent aliqua verba que sunt de substantia forme, omnia verba super suam materiam esset resumenda, quia consecratio facta non esset, quod tamen non oportet si pretermissa esset coniunctio ‘enim’ vel alia verba que precedunt vel sequuntur formam nec sunt de substantia ipsius.” Herm. Spec. 2,5–​6 fol. 12v. 144 “Si musca vel aranea ante consecrationem in calicem ceciderit vel etiam si venenum immissum esse deprehenderit, debet effundi et abluto calice aliud vinum cum aqua poni ad consecrandum. Sed si aliquod horum post consecrationem acciderit, debet musca vel aranea caute capi et diligenter inter digitos lavari et comburi et ablutio cum cineribus in sacrario reponi. Venenum autem nullo modo debet sumi, sed diligenter cum reliquiis in vasculo conservari. Et ne sacrificium maneat imperfectum, debet denuo calicem rite preparare et resumere consecrationem sanguinis et sacrificium perficere.” Herm. Spec. 2,11 fol. 14r-​v.

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ate the body of Christ), extract the piece of host from its stomach, burn the animal, and preserve its ashes.145 Perhaps though a more common problem was another one Hermann addressed: what to do if someone were to vomit up the consecrated host? Hermann’s answer was that it rather depends: if a cleric, monk, priest, or deacon puked up the consecrated host because of gluttony or being drunk, they would have to do forty days of penance; if a lay person did so, she or he would have to do thirty days of penance; but if a bishop did so, he would have to do eighty days of penance. However, if someone regardless of status threw up the host simply because they were sick, they would have to do only five days of penance, though these suggested penances for all cases could be modified at the discretion of a confessor.146 The sacrament of confession, or penance, was the third sacrament Hermann focused on to instruct and support the simple parish priest. While Hermann did address such issues as priests seducing women in the confessional,147 the primary focus of his treatment of the sacrament was on spheres of jurisdiction with regard to absolution. He began straight away by asserting that the material of the sacrament of penance is the sinner and his confessor who has authority over him.148 He then clearly laid out the hierarchy of authority:

145 “Qui bene non custodierit sacrificium et mus vel aliud animal illud comederit quadraginta diebus peniteat. Et si animal potest capi statim extrahantur species de ventre eius et animal comburatur et in sacrario cineres ponantur.” Herm. Spec. 2,11 fol. 15v. 146 “Si quis vero per ebrietatem vel voracitatem eucaristiam evomuerit, quadraginta diebus peniteat si clericus, monachus, presbiter vel dyaconus fuerit; laycus vero triginta; episcopus octoginta. Si autem infirmitatis cum evomuerit quinque diebus peniteat. Qui autem perdiderit illud sanctum sacramentum vel pars eius ceciderit et non fuerit inventa triginta dibus peniteat. Et eadem penitentia videtur dignus sacerdos per cuius negligentiam putrescunt hostie consecrate, predictis autem diebus penitens debet ieiunare et a communione abstinere, pensatis tamen circumstantiis negotii et persone potest minui vel addi ad penitentiam supra dictam secundum arbitrium discreti confessoris.” Herm. Spec. 2,11 fol. 15r-​v. 147 The issue here was on levels of relationships. Hermann warned priests against seducing women, saying it was the worst possible sin because it would be handing her over to eternal death, but no specific punishment was stipulated; if, however, a priest seduced someone from his own parish, he was to be sentences to ten years of penance; if he seduced someone he had baptized himself, he was to be defrocked. Hermann made similar distinctions with regard to priestly purity with respect to fornication and wet dreams. See Saak, High Way to Heaven, 292–​293. 148 “Materia in sacramento penitentie est quilibet peccator respectu proprii sacerdotis habentis super ipso auctoritatem.” Herm. Spec. 3,1, fol. 16v.

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Just as the pope has authority over the entire Church, with no person or case being excepted, a bishop has authority in his own dioceses over each and every member and in all cases that are not reserved for the pope or the apostolic see. Thus a priest has authority in his own parish over his parishioners in cases as long as they are not reserved for the bishop or the apostolic see. And the pope is able to commit his own power to bishops or legates or others in the entire Church to the extent that he desires and he is able to restrain the power of bishops. A bishop can do likewise within his own diocese, a legate from Rome can do so as well in the province decreed for him, and a priest can do so in his own parish according to custom and based on the permission of the bishop or archdeacon.149 While Hermann wanted to be clear regarding the delineation of the hierarchy of priestly power, as he had done actually already in his Tractatus contra haereticos, he also acknowledged eight cases of when a priest could exercise jurisdiction with respect to confession outside his own parish, drawn from Hostiensis. Thus if a curate is blind or incompetent, a priest from another parish can assume his responsibilities with the permission of the said priest, or with that of his superior; second, if a parishioner lives in different places, a priest from one of those places that is not his home parish can hear his confession; third, a priest can hear the confession and offer absolution of a vagabond, one without a domicile or home parish; fourth, if one is looking for a place to live but has not found one yet, a priest can hear his confession even if he is not a member, or not yet a member, of the parish; fifth, if someone in his parish had committed a sin in another parish; sixth, if there was someone in a priest’s parish for reasons of study or making a pilgrimage, who was not a member of the parish, the priest could hear his confession; seventh, in times of war or in the case of immanent death, a priest can hear the confession of someone not a member of his own parish; and eighth, a priest can hear confession and offer absolution for someone not in his parish with the permission

149 “Sicut papa habet auctoritatem super totam ecclesiam, nulla persona et nullo casu excepto, episcopus in sua dyocesi super quemlibet suum dyocesanum, et in omnibus casibus hiis qui pape vel sedi apostolice non reservantur. Sic sacerdos super parrochianos suos in sua parrochia in hiis casibus dumptaxat qui nec episcopo, nec sedi apostolice reservantur. Et potest papa potestatem suam committere episcopis vel legatis vel aliis in tota ecclesia in quantum vult et restringere potestatem episcoporum. Episcopus hoc potest in sua dyocesi, legatus a latere in provincia sibi decreta, sacerdos hoc potest in sua perrochia secundum consuetudinem de licentia episcopi vel archidyaconi.” Herm. Spec. 3,1, fol. 16v.

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of his superior.150 Hermann then continued by noting the cases of confession and absolution that a simple parish priest cannot perform. Any case of confession and absolution that is reserved to the pope or to a bishop, a simple parish priest cannot offer absolution. The individual cases are too numerous to list individually, Hermann noted, and referred the reader to commentators on Canon Law, namely, Hostiensis and Guillaume Reddonensis, but cases, among others, involving the burning of houses or dismemberment, the abuse of children, witchcraft, murder, vices against nature, incest, and the corruption of nuns cannot be handled by the simple parish priest.151 It was only after Hermann treated what a simple priest can and cannot do with respect to confession that he then turned to how a priest should go about confession and what should be avoided. The words of absolution, “I absolve you from your sins, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Amen”152 were not instituted by Christ, as was the case for baptism and the Eucharist, so there is a bit more leeway in terms of getting the words themselves wrong and with additions to the formula. If, however, a priest messed it up so thoroughly that the “substance of the sacrament” was not present in the words spoken, there would be no absolution.153 However, Hermann affirmed, 150 “Nota tamen hic quod secundum Hostiensiem octo sunt casus qui materiam alienam sacerdoti faciunt esse propriam. Primus cum curatus est cecus et inscius, in hoc tamen requiritur licentia sua vel superioris. Secundus cum peccator equalibus temporibus habet diversa domicilia in diversis parrochiis. Tercius autem cum vagabundus est carens domicilio. Quartus casu est via querendi domicilium. Quintus si in aliena parrochia peccavit. Sextus casus est in studio vel in peregrinatione. Septimus tempore mortis vel belli. Octavus est ex ratihabitione sui proprii curati.” Herm. Spec. 3,1, fol. 16v-​17r. 151 “Cavendum est sacerdoti ne quem absolvat a casibus pape sedi apostolice vel episcopo seu cuicumque superiori reservatis. Casus pape reservati sunt multi quos nimis longum esset hic inserere. Vide quomodo recolligit eos Wilhelmus … Casus episcopi reducit Hostiensis ad octo. Primus est de omni peccato quod exigit solemnem penitentiam. Secundus est de omni sententia excommunicationis sive hominis sive canonis. … Tercius autem casus est ubicumque irregularitas est contracta vel contraria. Quartus de incendiariis domorum et membrorum truncatoribus. Quintus est in peccato publico maxime in blasfemia. Sextus in voto fracto, in quo non potest simplex sacerdos absolvere et multo minus ab ipso voto. Septimus est si episcopus in quocumque foro confessionem alicuius audivit peccati. Octavus continet oppressiones parvulorum, sortilegia, homicidia, falsationes literarum vel monete, sacrilegium violationes ecclesiarum, vicium contra naturam, incestum, adulterium, corruptiones monialium, restitutionem vagam, periurium.” Herm. Spec. 3,2, fol.17r-​v. 152 “In sacramento penitentie forma absolutionis est ista: Ego te absolvo a peccatis tuis, in nomine patris et filii et spiritus sancti, Amen.” Herm. Spec. 3,4, fol.17v. 153 “Circa formam istam licet posset fieri additio ut dictum est, quia forma determinata non habetur ex verbis aut institutione Christi sicut in baptismo et eucaristia, cavenda est tamen ne pretermittantur ea que sunt de substantia forme, quia si illa pretermitterentur

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true absolution comes with contrition, and only thereafter is one institutionally absolved by the Church, as he related the issue of being absolved by Christ and being absolved by a priest to Christ having raised Lazarus from the dead first, and then handed him over to the disciplines to be unbound.154 Priests were warned, though, that confession and absolution should be offered only with a genuine and true concern for the salvation of souls, not for monetary gain.155 True contrition on the part of the sinner was the key and the purpose, for as Hermann had asserted at the outset, salvation comes through the priesthood. Hermann’s Speculum is not a manual for confessors. He did not suggest penances for specific sins, nor give instruction regarding specific questions a confessor should ask to coax a reluctant sinner. He was focused on helping the simple parish priest understand his duties, what was necessary, what one did not as such need to worry about, and what to do if something went wrong. The level of education of the priesthood for which Hermann was writing was not very high when Hermann reassured his audience that they need not overly worry about Latin grammar, as long as they got the beginning of the word correct. He was writing for conscientious priests, who wanted to a good job, even if they might not know how to do so or what to do if things did not go right, or something unexpected came up. Hermann’s Speculum attests to his pastoral endeavor, as well as to the condition of the priesthood, at least on the local level for simple parish priests, even before the Black Death. Little wonder perhaps why his treatise became so popular afterward when the conditions of the priesthood further declined, an occurrence Hermann could not have foreseen and did not live through. We can only wonder the impact Hermann’s Speculum might have had in the later Middle Ages had the majority of priests actually taken it to heart: a focus on true contrition, diligence, devotion and the honesty and earnestness of the parish priest.156 Hermann never mentioned indulgences, even as he warned against using confession as a means vel usque ad destructionem significationis variarentur non fieret absolutio ex vi sacramenti.” Herm. Spec. 3,5, fol.18r. 154 “ … in veraciter contrito summus sacerdos absolutionem compleret, quia secundum quod potiores doctores tam sacre theologie quam canonum tenent quasi communiter si contritio vera sit, peccator in sola contritione absolvitur a vinculo quo ligatur; in ordine ad ecclesiam militantem absolvitur per sacerdotem sicut et Cristus Lasarum in momumento prius suscitavit a morte quem potea commisit discipulis suis absolvendum, et leprosos prius per seipsum mundavit et postea sacerdotis commisit.” Herm. Spec. 3,5, fol.18r. 1 55 “Confessori autem valde cavendum est ne intendat magis questum lucri quam salutem anime confitentis.” Herm. Spec. 3,8, fol.18v. 156 Cf. Matthew Wranovix, Priests and Their Books in Late Medieval Eichstätt (Lanham, md, 2017).

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to profit. He demonstrated a concern for the clergy of Würzburg, and beyond, after the model of Bishop Augustine, who had worked so hard to instill clerical discipline and understanding in his diocese. Though there is little to evidence an Augustinian influence in Hermann’s Speculum, when seen in context, the Augustinian ideal of the hermit pastor was behind it. Augustine was only cited once by Hermann in his Speculum, though the only other non-​legal authority to which Hermann appealed was one reference to Chrysostomus. As mentioned above, he referred his readers primarily to Hostiensis for further information should they want or need, but there is no appeal to authoritative sources as such even as there is an assertion of the authoritative ecclesiastical hierarchy. Hermann kept his audience in mind, and citing authorities did not really have a function for the simple parish priest who had a very limited knowledge of Latin to begin with. His Speculum reflects the level of education and understanding of his intended audience, not that of Hermann himself, who was, after all, a master of theology from Paris. He could flaunt his erudition when he felt it was called for, but when it wasn’t, his pastoral concern took precedence. His political theological refutation of Marsilius of Padua, his theological investigation of original sin in his treatment of the Immaculate Conception, and his pastoral concern for the simple parish priest all combined in his own theological endeavor and production which cannot be pigeon-​holed by modern artificial categories. Hermann was a “spiritual writer”; he was a political theologian and a legal scholar; he was a Parisian master of theology; and no single “hat” that he wore describes him as such. He was a mendicant theologian and an Augustinian Hermit, a pastor, preacher, ecclesiastic, and academic theologian—​a true son of Augustine.

­c hapter 8

Jordan of Quedlinburg Much the same could likewise be said about the third great lector at Erfurt in the 1320s: Jordan of Quedlinburg. The majority of my work of the past thirty years has focused on Jordan.1 Over one hundred years ago, Willlem Moll claimed Jordan, together with St. Bernard, as one of the two authors who had the most influence on the religious life in the Netherlands in the later Middle Ages.2 He did so with good reason: Jordan composed more sermons, extant in more manuscripts, than any other Augustinian in the later Middle Ages—​1098 in all as a minimum.3 Nevertheless, Jordan’s importance to our understanding of the theology, spirituality, and religious life of the later Middle Ages has not been widely recognized, a lacuna my work has tried to fill. 1

Brother Jordan

Jordan was born c. 1299 in Quedlinburg, and joined the oesa in his hometown, probably around the year 1313 at age fourteen. Four years later, in 1317, Jordan was sent to study at his Order’s studium in Bologna, where he stayed for two years before being sent on to study at Paris in 1319. Three years later, in 1322, Jordan achieved the “degree” of lector, which allowed him to teach within any school of the Order that was not associated with a university. To be designated a lector in the oesa in the fourteenth century, one had to have studied for at least five years, two in a provincial school and at least three at a general school (studium generale) of the Order. While we do not know precisely what Jordan would have studied, it is most likely that his work in Bologna focused on philosophy, predominantly the works of Aristotle, while in Paris theology would have been the focus.4 Jordan would have heard lectures on Aristotle, as well as 1 Saak, High Way to Heaven, 243–​267; idem, Catechesis in the Later Middle Ages I: The Exposition of the Lord’s Prayer of Jordan of Quedlinburg, OESA (d. 1380)—​Introduction, Text, and Translation ( Jordani de Quedlinburg Opera Selecta/​Selected Works of Jordan of Quedlinburg, OESA, vol. 1, smrt 188/​T&S 6 (Leiden, 2015), 4–​12. 2 Willem Moll, Johannes Brugman en het godsdienstig leven onzer vaderen in de vijftiende eeuw (Amsterdam, 1854), 159. 3 See Saak, “Jordan of Quelinburg,” in oghra 3: 1234–​1236; and idem, “Sermons,” in oghra 3: 1717–​1726. 4 See Saak, High Way to Heaven, 253–​256.

© Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, 2022 | DOI:10.1163/9789004504707_013

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on the Bible and on Peter Lombard’s Sentences, and would have been required to have passed an examination that evaluated both his knowledge and the quality of his life. Having made the grade, Jordan was sent back to his home province to teach in the Order’s studium at Erfurt. After a period of teaching, usually for at least two or three years, Jordan would have been eligible to have been sent back to Paris to begin his academic theological studies, studying for the Bachelor’s in theology and then the Master’s. That track would have taken considerably longer, in addition to the five years already required for the lectorate, and would have necessitated additional teaching as well before being able to incept as magister. We do not know why, but Jordan never returned to Paris, at least to study, though he did make an official visitation to Paris as an administrator of his Order. Nevertheless, the instruction he had received, five years of philosophy and theology, had prepared him well, especially when we realize that Martin Luther began studying theology in 1509 and received his doctorate in 1512, three years later. In other words, Jordan had spent an equal time studying theology as had Luther, but whereas Luther’s three years of theological study culminated in his doctorate, for Jordan, his three years simply allowed him to be a lector as the requisite preparatory study before one could begin the lengthy process of studying to become a magister. As lector secundarius at Erfurt, or the junior lector, Jordan worked closely with the senior lector, Henry of Friemar, and was for a time in Erfurt with Hermann as well. In 1331, Henry appointed Jordan to succeed him as inquisitor for the case of the murder of Archbishop Burchard. The citizens of Magdeburg had had long standing feud with the Archbishop and finally in 1325 had had enough and beat him to death. Henry had originally been appointed inquisitor, but the case was rather long and drawn out and so in 1331, Henry transferred his responsibilities to Jordan.5 Four years later, as the case was still not closed, Jordan was transferred to Magdeburg to assume the position of principal lector in the Order’s studium there, and may well have already been at work on his Collectanea Sancti Augustini, the autograph of which Jordan presented to the Augustinian cloister in Paris in 1343 when he made his official visitation as the elected representative of the Saxon-​Thurigian province or perhaps even as the Provincial Prior.6 Jordan’s legal expertise was brought into play as well in 1336 when he was appointed papal inquisitor of a group of Waldensians in Angermünde, and in 1350 he presided at the trial of Constantine of Erfurt. His

5 Ibid., 256–​263. 6 It is possible that Jordan served as Prior Provincial of the Saxony-​Thuringian Province already from 1340–​1343, but the evidence is not conclusive.

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administrative career culminated then in his election as Provincial Prior in 1345, an office he held until 1351. 2

Theological Production

After 1351, the information about Jordan’s activities is scarce, except for his continued theological production. His Liber Vitasfratrum was completed by 1357, which he composed, at least in part, to answer the question of John of Basel as to what made one an Augustinian. He was still working on his Opus Postillarum in 1365, and had already by that time published his lectures on the Pater Noster as a separate treatise, lectures that originated in his teaching at Erfurt in 1327 when he was lecturing on Matthew.7 His Meditationes de passione Christi may very well have originated in the same lectures at Erfurt, though that has not yet been conclusively demonstrated. In any event, his Meditationes de passione Christi circulated too both as an independent treatise and as sermons included in his Opus Postillarum, and both his Meditationes and his Expositio Orationis Domince were used by Ludolf of Saxony for his Vita Christi, often times with Ludolf simply “cutting and pasting” from Jordan.8 Sometime after 1365, Jordan went on to publish two further model sermon collections, his Opus Dan, or Sermones de sanctis, and his Opus Jor, another series of sermones de tempore. Further, Jordan was most likely the author of a Quadragesimale, and may very well have been the author of an Expositio in Psalterium, though neither of these works have been studied and the psalms Commentary attributed to Jordan is extant in only a single manuscript, while the Quadragesimale is extant in seven manuscripts, though it was never printed.9 Jordan’s Liber Vitasfratrum was edited in 1943, and an edition and translation of his Opera Selecta is in progress.10 While not all of his works were late medieval “best sellers,” some were, and they all reveal the theological endeavor of the Order’s mendicant theology. This was a theology, moreover, that was 7

Jordanus de Quedlinburg, Expositio Orationis Dominice 1, ed. and trans. E. Saak, Catechesis in the Later Middle Ages I: The Exposition of the Lord’s Prayer of Jordan of Quedlinburg, OESA (d. 1380)—​Introduction, Text, and Translation (Jordani de Quedlinburg Opera Selecta/​ Selected Works of Jordan of Quedlinburg, OESA. Vol. 1). smrt 188/​T&S 6 (Leiden, 2015); hereafter cited as: Jor. Exp.Or.Dom., with page references given in parenthesis; when I cite the introduction, I will cite it as Saak, Catechesis I. 8 Saak, High Way to Heaven, 823–​828; idem, Catechesis in the Later Middle Ages, 34–​51. 9 Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 650, 313–​315; for the Expositio psalterii, Zumkeller, Manuskripte, n. 649, 313. 10 Jor. vf.; Saak,Catechesis I, xi-​xii for a description of the project.

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thoroughly in keeping with the Order’s academic, systematic theology as revealed in Sentences commentaries. Even though Jordan’s works can be read as typical of a late medieval Frömmigkeitstheologie that can be interpreted as having been semi-​Pelagian, emphasizing the need to do good works, the type of theology Luther so strongly argued against, upon closer analysis Jordan’s theology was as thoroughly anti-​Pelagian as was that of Gregory of Rimini, Alfonsus Vargas, Hugolino of Orvieto, and John of Basel, following in the footsteps of Augustine in emphasizing God’s grace, God’s providence, God’s predestination, and humans’ absolute dependency on God for all good.11 2.1 Jordan’s Expositio Orationis Dominice Jordan’s earliest theological work was his lectures on Matthew, given in the Erfurt studium in 1327. From these lectures only ten survive. These ten lectures covered Matthew 6:9-​13, namely, the Lord’s Prayer, and his students asked him to publish these lectures separately as an independent treatise. Jordan’s Expositio Orationis Dominice is closely related to Henry of Friemar’s De decem preceptis, and Jordan drew heavily from Henry’s own Expositio Orationis Dominice for his lectures. As seen above, Henry argued that the Ten Commandments led one to salvation, and Jordan asserted at the outset of his lectures: “For all the petitions of the prayer stem from the commandments, especially from those that are necessary for salvation,” and cited Cyprian to affirm “that this prayer is a compendium of divine commandments.”12 The focus, for Jordan, was on the prayer as a means of inculcating the virtues and thereby excluding the vices, for the final cause of the prayer, as indicated by the prefatory words of Gregory the Great,13 is “so that we might reach our end or so that we might not fall away from our end. In this prayer, however, we are warned to ask for both; both that we might reach the end of eternal beatitude and that the impediments to that end might be removed.”14 The commandments lead to eternal beatitude, our final end, and the Lord’s Prayer is instrumental in fulfilling the commandments. Jordan’s exposition of the Lord’s Prayer, as Henry’s exposition as well as Henry’s De decem preceptis, is not merely a work of spirituality, devotion, or piety: it is a roadmap to heaven.

11

Saak, “Pelagian/​Anti-​Pelagian Preaching: Predestination, Grace, and Good Works in the Sermons of Jordan of Quedlinburg,” Aug(L) 52 (2002): 311–​334; idem, Luther and the Reformation of the Later Middle Ages, 42–​60. 12 Jor, Exp.Or.Dom. 1, (ed. Saak, 74,9–​12; trans. 75). 13 Jor. Exp. Orat. Dom. 1 (ed. Saak, 74,2–​3; trans. 75). 14 Jor. Exp. Orat. Dom. 1 (ed. Saak, 74,14–​17; trans. 75).

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This roadmap, however, was not one based on human merit or achievement, even as Jordan, as did Henry, stressed what we must “do.” For Jordan, though, all our good works, all our merit, were gifts of God given by grace. In his first lecture, Jordan was clear that our very Being comes from God, who has given us the threefold Being that we have received from him, namely, the Being of our natural being, the state of grace, and the state of glory. Our natural being God gave to us in creation; our Being in the state of grace God gives to us in His re-​creation or redemption; and our Being in the state of glory God will give to us in bringing forth His kingdom.15 God has extended the heavens, understood here as the heaven of our spiritual nature, so that our “soul might become increasingly capable of receiving God” whereby “the soul is extended and expanded by grace and charity” for in the saints “God illumines the intellect by removing errors; regulates the affections by ordering love; and attends to their continued growth by administering strength.”16 God is the active agent. The human soul is the passive recipient, which is why too we begin the prayer with a captatio benevolentie, which is not an attempt to gain God’s good will, because that is something we already have, but rather, to capture our own good will in having confidence to ask God for what we need, which God already knows.17 We call God holy not because God cannot be holy, but that God’s holiness might be manifest in us, for God works in us a threefold sanctification consisting in the mystery of our redemption, our privilege of filial adoption by God, and finally our glorification.18 Thus we pray that God’s name be holy not because there is any chance that God is not holy, but as referencing the “sacramental complex of our redemption” whereby we seek God’s name “to be made holy in us, so that we might feel the fruit of our redemption in us.”19 In effect, Jordan redefined the scholastic gratia gratum faciens whereby it was not that grace that makes us pleasing to God, but rather that grace that makes God pleasing to us over 100 years before Staupitz would do so.20 Jordan already knew the loving Father, but realized that we need to pray that we realize that love and put it into effect in our works and merit so that we might feel the fruits of our redemption which had already 15 Jor. Exp. Orat. Dom. 1 (ed. Saak, 78,95–​97 trans. 79). 16 Jor. Exp. Orat. Dom. 2 (ed. Saak, 92,101–​122; trans. 93). 17 Jor. Exp. Orat. Dom. 1 (ed. Saak, 78,70–​93; trans. 79). 18 Jor. Exp. Orat. Dom. 3 (ed. Saak, 102,94–​106,143; trans. 103–​107). 19 Jor. Exp. Orat. Dom. 3 (ed. Saak, 102,102–​104,104; trans. 103). 20 Saak, High Way to Heaven, 408–​411.

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been given. Or perhaps put otherwise, for Jordan sanctification followed justification. Thus Jordan explained that we do not pray “Thy Kingdom come” so that we might be able to come to God’s kingdom, but rather that the kingdom comes to us, for “we are not able to come to God unless God first comes to us … And therefore, because to come to the kingdom is not in our power but comes from divine grace and will, we more rightly seek the kingdom of God to come to us than that we might come to the kingdom.”21 It is in this light that the virtues and vices come into play. In this world we are in constant battle with the devil, who seeks to lead us astray, preventing us from our inheritance as adopted sons and daughters of God.22 Yet we do have a “roadmap” for how to conduct this battle, namely, following God’s will, which is, in a general sense, done by us by keeping God’s commandments.23 As was customary, Jordan divided the prayer into seven petitions, each of which then included a corresponding virtue and its opposing vice, a gift of the Holy Spirit, beatitude, and a fruit of the Holy Spirit.24 He proceeds in each lecture by explaining the petition being exposited, followed then by posing and answering questions. Thus in Lecture 7, Forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors, Jordan began by explaining how it was fitting that this petition followed the fourth petition, namely, asking for our daily bread, and explained that here “debts” is taken as sins. He then posed the dubium as to how sins are debts, and explained that when we do not do what we are supposed to do, that is both a sin and a debt, whereby “debt” is the broader category. We owe, Jordan affirmed, three creditors whom we must pay: “We owe God religion; we owe ourselves governance; and we owe our neighbor reciprocal love.”25 And when we do not pay what we owe, we sin. Thus the virtue associated with this petition is justice, for justice, as Jordan defined it in this case, is paying back “to each what is owed.”26 Yet we cannot pay our debts if we do not know what they are. Consequently, the gift of the Holy Spirit here is knowledge, for only with the help of the Holy Spirit can we even begin to know our sins, to know what it is we owe, which is a gift we receive from Christ, who is the one who justifies us, in this case, by revealing to us what it is that we owe. That knowledge then brings an awareness of sin, for which we weep, which is the beatitude

21 Jor. Exp. Orat. Dom. 4 (ed. Saak, 112,6–​18; trans. 113). 22 Jor. Exp. Orat. Dom. 4 (ed. Saak, 112,29–​116,83; trans. 113–​117). 23 Jor. Exp. Orat. Dom. 5 (ed. Saak, 122,18–​22; trans. 123). 24 For a chart outlining the petitions and their respective virtue, vice, gift, beatitude, and fruit, see Saak, Catechesis I, 32–​33. 25 Jor. Exp. Orat. Dom. 7 (ed. Saak, 150,37–​39; trans. 151). 26 Jor. Exp. Orat. Dom. 7 (ed. Saak, 158,179–​185; trans. 159).

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associated with this petition. And in our weeping, we will be consoled, which results in the fruit of the Holy Spirit of gentleness (mansuetudo), the fruit of the Holy Spirit that counters anger, the vice that this petition seeks to overcome, and allows us to forgive our debtors, as we are forgiven our debts.27 Jordan’s exposition of Matthew 6:9-​13 is a series of academic lectures designed to discuss the textual, theological, and religious dimensions of the Lord’s Prayer. His major sources for his exposition, though uncited, were Henry of Friemar’s Expositio Orationis Dominice, and Thomas Aquinas’ Catena Aurea and Summa Theologica.28 Jordan’s most frequently cited authority, after Scripture, was Augustine, whom Jordan cited forty-​eight times, though one citation has not been identified, and another was to the pseudo-​Augustinian De cognitione verae vitae. Not surprisingly, Augustine’s De sermone domini in monte was the most frequently cited work of Augustine in Jordan’s lectures, with twenty-​three citations, but Jordan also cited Augustine’s Ad Probam (ep. 130) five times, the Confessiones twice, Contra Maximinum once, De civitate dei three times, De libero arbitrio once, the Enarrationes in Psalmos four times, the Enchiridion once, Augustine’s sermons four times, and the Tractatus in evangelium Iohannis twice.29 Yet Jordan realized that his academic lectures were not for everyone, and therefore he appended to his lectures an additional exposition to make his lectures clear “even to the unlearned and simple.”30 This was Jordan’s Expositio Arboris. Jordan’s Expositio Arboris summarizes his lectures, as he put it, around the image of a tree, the tree of the virtues and vices.31 To translate his lectures for the unlearned, Jordan constructed a visual image with birds and beasts on the branches and underneath the branches representing the virtues and vices. His work evidences a new development in attempt to reach common people, namely, the concretization of thought. This image was accessible to all, Jordan claimed, using a visual image as a memetic device. Going back to Gregory the Great’s recognition that images are the books for the unlearned,32 Jordan endeavored to make the Lord’s Prayer come to life for his audience. Jordan stood at the origins, if he was not the originator himself, of a new knowledge technology using constructed textual images. He was the first author to do so with respect to the Lord’s Prayer, and shortly thereafter Jordan likewise became the 27 Jor. Exp. Orat. Dom. 7 (ed. Saak, 156,158–​160,223; trans. 157–​161). 28 See the “Notes on the Work” to the edition, Jor. Exp. Orat. Dom., (ed. Saak, 311–​373). 29 See the “Index of Ancient and Medieval Authors,” Jor. Exp. Orat. Dom. (ed. Saak, 394–​395). 30 Jor. Exp. Orat. Dom., Expositio Arboris (ed. Saak, 190,1–​4; trans. 191). 31 Ibid. 32 See Saak, High Way to Heaven, 478, 490ff.

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first author to do so for his treatment of the life of Augustine. In his Collectanea Sancti Augustini, in addition to his original Vita Sancti Augustini Jordan also included a Metrum pro depingenda vita sancti Augustini.33 Here we find forty-​ eight scenes from Augustine’s life together with verses to explain what the scene was, much as Jordan used verses as well for his Expositio Arboris.34 He had stated that should someone want to paint images of Augustine’s life, his structure provided how they should do so,35 a program that was realized and expanded in the fifteenth-​century Historia Augustini.36 Jordan then used the same technique for his treatment of the Passion with his Meditationes de passione Christi being the first treatment of the Passion that divided the work into sixty-​five articles, or scenes of the passion. This work, which also circulated under the title of Articuli Passionis, instructed the reader to pause at each scene and meditate on it, discerning how to apply the particular scene to her or his life, forming in some ways a late medieval “power point” presentation and thereby very possibly contributing to the development of the Stations of the Cross.37 Jordan’s Meditationes, which may very well have originated in his lectures on Matthew as had his Expositio Orationis Dominice, used textually constructed visual images as Jordan had done already with his Expositio Arboris. Jordan may have very well gotten his idea for a tree of the virtues and vices to summarize the Lord’s Prayer from Henry of Friemar. In his De decem preceptis, Henry used the image of a tree to describe the good will as a fruitful tree, which if it remains strong, produces good fruit in following the commandments, having been watered and made fruitful by divine grace.38 Jordan though did not cite Henry, but based his exposition on the tree of Nebuchadnezzar’s dream of Daniel 4:7-​9, whereby Jordan placed God the Father at the top of the tree … to show that the tree of this prayer begins completely from God himself, and thus to Him the entire prayer is directed and by Him it is completed 33 See Saak, Creating Augustine, 148–​154. 34 Jor., Exp.Or.Dom., Expositio Arboris,(ed. Saak, 194–​200). 35 Saak, Creating Augustine, 149. 36 Ibid., 168–​176. 37 See Catholic Encyclopedia, http://​www.newadv​ent.org/​cat​hen/​155​69a.htm, which argues that the devotional practice of the Stations did not come into existence until the mid-​fifteenth century, though harkens back to the time of the Crusades. For Jordan’s Meditationes, see Saak, High Way to Heaven, 476–​520. 38 “… bona uoluntas est quasi arbor fecunda …” Hen. De dec. precept. 2 (ed. Guyot, 52,292); “… name arbor fructifera est uoluntas bona per diuinam gratiam irrigate et fecundate que tot bonos fructus producit quot actus bonos et meritorious elicit …” Hen. De dec. precept. 4 (ed. Guyot, 87,346–​348); cf. Hen. De dec. precept. Proh. (ed. Guyot, 13,211–​218).

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and in Him it is happily fulfilled. And this holds true whether the term ‘father’ is taken here in an essential sense or in a personal sense as discussed above in the beginning of this exposition … because the Lord’s Prayer is able to be seen and understood and appropriated by all, for it is of such evident simplicity and compendiousness that each and everyone regardless of one’s status, however unlearned one might be, is able to behold it, learn it, and remember it.39 Yet though the new knowledge technology Jordan employed here was designed for the unlearned, it was not for the unlearned alone, for, as Jordan clarified, … in this prayer not only the simple and those of little learning, but also the most complete scholars are able to find fruit … because a man of whatever status and condition will be able to pluck fruit from this tree in keeping with the conditions of his status: either a righteous man or a sinner; learned or unlearned; one leading the active life or the contemplative life; one beginning on the spiritual journey, one making progress therein, or one already perfect.40 No graphic image has been found of Jordan’s Expositio Arboris, though depictions of Trees of the Virtues and Vices became common, and even if the origins of such artistic depictions date from the early thirteenth century, they became much more prevalent in the mid-​fourteenth century and beyond.41 The earlier representations most likely provided Jordan with a model for the idea that then came to fruition with the influence of Henry’s image of the tree in his De decem preceptis, whereby Jordan constructed a new image, the Tree of the Lord’s Prayer as the summary of the commandments. The discursive nature of narrative became transformed into a textual graphic image that was to be impressed upon the mind of the reader and meditant. While this new knowledge technology may not have presented a new epistemology, it was indeed a new didactic that shaped and formed the minds and imaginations of the late medieval world, and was put to good use in Reformation propaganda as seen in the Passional Christi und Antichristi.42

39 Jor. Exp. Arb. (ed. Saak, 190,25–​32; trans. 191). 40 Jor. Exp. Arb. (ed. Saak, 194,82–​87; trans. 195). 41 Saak, High Way to Heaven, 561–​574. 42 Lucas Cranach and Philipp Melanchthon, Passional Christi und Antichristi (Wittenberg, 1521).

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Jordan’s Expositio Orationis Dominice itself had an impact in the later Middle Ages, as it was used, as was Jordan’s Meditationes de passione Christi, verbatim by Ludolph of Saxony for his Vita Christi, as well as by Gabriel Biel for his Expositio Canonis Missae.43 Yet neither Ludolph nor Biel cited Jordan by name. Jordan’s impact, as well as that of Henry and Hermann, remained unacknowledged in the realm of late medieval religious and textual culture, but it was an impact that was significant indeed, an impact left for contemporary scholars and our successors to discover. 2.2 Jordan’s Opus Postillarum If in general Jordan was not cited by name by later authors, there was at least one exception. John of Basel, in his Lectures on the Sentences, cited Jordan and did so as lector Jordanus. By the time John was lecturing on the Sentences in Paris in 1368–​1369, he had already asked Jordan, while John was still a lector in Strassburg, what it meant to be an Augustinian. Jordan’s reply, in which he explicitly mentioned John’s request, was his Liber Vitasfratrum.44 It was not, however, the Liber Vitasfratrum that John cited, nor Jordan’s Expositio Orationis Dominice. John cited Jordan’s Opus Postillarum, Jordan’s first major collection of model sermons de tempore that, as John’s citation indicates, was a theological work.45 It is more of a commentary on Scripture organized according to the lectionary, than it is a work of religious devotion or exhortation in sermons designed to be used in a pinch for a Sunday homily. Jordan incorporated both his Expositio Orationis Dominice and his Meditationes de passione Christi into his Opus Postillarum as sermons 289–​298 for the former and sermons 189–​254 for the later, referencing them as treatises (Tractatus), thus too blurring the genres of academic lectures, scriptural commentaries, theological treatises, devotional works, and sermons, contributing thereby to a new genre that had been developing and would become of significant importance in the Reformation, namely, that of the Postil.46 Jordan’s Opus Postillarum, consisting of 460 sermons, is extant in well over 100 manuscripts and was printed in Strassburg in 1483. The manuscript tradition is very complex, though the scholarly consensus is that the Strassburg

43 See Saak, Catechesis I, 34–​51. 44 Jor., vf. 45 John cited Jordan’s Opus Postillarum sermons 27, 37, 160, and 314 in his lectures on the first two books of Lombard. 46 John M. Frymire, The Primacy of the Postils. Catholics, Protestants and the Dissemination of Ideas in Early Modern Germany, smrt 147 (Leiden, 2009).

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edition presents a reliable text.47 The work was structured and planned, rather than simply offering model sermons on the lectionary. An example of how it was so can be seen in Jordan’s treatment of the Gospel reading for the first Sunday of Advent, the beginning of the Church Year, Luke 21: 25–​33. After two prefatory sermons to the work as such, Jordan then dedicated sermons three through eleven to expositing the text: Expositio evangelii prime dominice in adventu domini s. 3: Erunt signa in sole et luna et stellis et in terris pressura gentium pre confusione sonitus maris et fluctuum arescentibus hominibus pre timore et expectatione que superveniet universo orbi. Nam virtutes celorum movebuntur. [Lc 21:25–​26] Expositio secunde partis evangelii s. 4: Et tunc videbunt filium hominis venientem in nubibus celis cum potestate magna et maiestate. [Lc 21: 27] Expositio tertie partis evangelii s. 5: His autem fieri incipientibus respicite et levate capita vestra quoniam approprinquat redemptio vestra. Et dixit illis similitudinem. Videte ficulneam et omnes arbores cum producunt iam ex se fructum, scitis quoniam prope est etas. Ita et vos cum videritis hec fieri scitote, quoniam prope est regnum dei. Amen dico vobis, quia non preteribit generatio hec donec omnia fiant. Celum et terra transibunt, verba autem mea non transibunt. [Lc. 21:28–​33] Sermo de eadem dominica s. 6: Erunt signa in sole et luna et stellis. Luc. xxi. Subsermo primus 47

Zumkeller lists 158 manuscripts of at least parts of the Opus Postillarum, Zumkeller, Manuskripte, nr. 638 (302–​310). Nadia Bray has analyzed the manuscript tradition of the Opus Postillarum and argued that the various traditions can be reduced to four. See Nadia Bray, Jordan von Quedlinburg Opus Postillarum et Sermonum de Evangeliis dominicalibus, De nativitate Domini, Opus Ior Sermones Selecti de filiatione divina, Corpus Philosophorum Teutonicorum Medii Aevi 7 (Hamburg, 2008), 6. While Bray’s work is foundational, it is not without problems in terms of whether her analysis sufficiently takes into account the complexity of the tradition. See Saak, Catechesis in the Later Middle Ages, 65–​66. Bray had previously published a study of Jordan’s Opus Ior, his second series of sermons de tempore; see Bray, Giordano di Quedlinburg Opus Ior. Registrum Sermonum, Tabula Contentorum Secundum Ordinem Alphabeti, Centro di cultura medievala della Scuola normale superior di Pisa (Pisa, 2004). Bray does reaffirm the position of Koch that the 1483 Strassburg edition presents a reliable text of the Opus Postillarum. Until a comprehensive analysis of the manuscript tradition is undertaken, the Strassburg edition can be used as a base text while being aware of the complexity not reflected therein.

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s. 7: Erunt signa in sole etc. Subsermo secundus s. 8: Erunt signa in sole etc. Sermo alius de eadem dominica s. 9: Virtutes celorum movebuntur, ubi supra Subsermo primus s. 10: Virtutes celorum movebuntur. Subsermo secundus s. 11: Virtutes celorum movebuntur. Jordan divided the Gospel of the day into three parts, which he exposited in sermons three through five. He then added two additional sermons, sermons six and nine, each with two subsermons, sermons seven and eight as the subsermons for sermon six, and subsermons ten and eleven for subsermon nine. The nine sermons were not simply presented as potential models to be used, but formed part of a planned overall exposition of the text. Thus in his exposition of the first part of the text, or sermon three, Jordan noted that he would treat the allegorical interpretation further “below in the first sermon,”48 namely, sermon six, which followed his exposition of the second and third parts of the Gospel in sermons four and five respectively, and he concluded his exposition of the first part of the Gospel by noting that he would treat the powers of the soul better “below in the second sermon,”49 or sermon nine, which followed sermon six as the designated “first sermon” and its two subsermons. In other words, after having exposited the three parts of the Gospel, Jordan devoted the other sermons, namely, sermons six through eleven, to offering further explication of the first part of the Gospel and the two parts thereof, allowing his exposition of the second and third parts of the Gospel in sermons four and five to be sufficient. Sermon twelve, then, begins his exposition of the Gospel for the second Sunday in Advent (Mt. 11:2-​3).50 The expositions themselves are theological and moral in nature relating the signs of the sun, moon, and stars of the Gospel to the coming of Christ, 48

49 50

“Allegorice: In sole, Christus; in luna, beata virgo; et in stellis, apostoli designantur. In quibus omnibus de adventu verbi in carnem fuerunt signa mira utique et stupenda ut infra in sermone primo, Erunt signa in sole etc. deducetur.” Jor. op, sermo 3F (ed. Strassburg, 1483, without foliation or pagination). “… sic in adventu verbi eterni in mentem omnes virtutes et potentie anime movebuntur ad operationes superexcedentes, ut de his infra melius patebit sermone secundo.” Jor. op, sermo 3K (ed. Strassburg, 1483). “Expositio evangelii secunde dominice in adventu domini. XII.” Jor. op, sermo. 12 (ed. Strassburg, 1483).

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thereby relating as well the macrocosmos, the heavens, to the microcosmos, human beings.51 Jordan had begun by explaining that in celebrating advent, we celebrate all three meanings of advent, namely, the adventus in carnem, the adventus in mentem, and the adventus in iudicium,52 a three-​fold explication that Jordan most likely took from Henry of Friemar’s De adventu Domini.53 His reference to human beings as the microcosmos was part of his answer to a question he posed as to why the adventum in iudicium should affect the natural world as it only applies to human beings.54 Jordan frequently posed questions, or dubia, regarding the passage in question in the same way that masters did in their lectures on the Scriptures, such as Augustinus of Ancona’s lectures on Matthew, given in the Augustinian studium in Venice in 1321.55 51

“Prima est cum enim omnis creatura saltem corporalis sit propter hominem, conveniens est tunc homini compati omnem creaturarum. Secunda est, quia ut dicit Chrysostomus, sicut homo cum moritur, patitur fantasias et turbationes maximas qui est microcosmus sive minor mundus, sic maior mundus deficiens totus conturbabitur.” Jor. op, sermo 3B (ed. Strassburg, 1483). Jordan’s citation of Chrysostomus here only has a tangential reference to Chrysostomus’ Dissertationes in Epistolam sue Libellum Sancti Hilarii, 3,2,46 (pl 10,866B-​C) with respect to Chrysostomus definition of a human being as microcosmus, seu parvus mundus; cf. Ps. Augustinus, De cognition vera vitae, 32 (pl 40, 1023). 52 “Quod quam etiam causam ecclesia celebrans adventum domini in carnem pariter et in mentem qui sunt adventus amoris, simul mentionem facit in officio de adventu eius in iudicium qui est adventus timoris, ut videlicet per timorem introducatur ac per hec nos moveamur ad amorosam nostri hospitii preparationem quatinus verbo eterno mentaliter in nobis concepto dicamus cum propheta: A timore tuo domine concepimus spiritum salutis. Es. xxvi.[cf. Is. 26:16-​18] Et hec est ratio una quare isto tempore in officio admiscentur aliqua de secundo adventu videlicet propter timoris incussionem. Est etiam alia ratio videlicet propter utriusque hominis reformationem. Quia ut dicit Theophilus: Sicut primus adventus fuit ad reformationem animarum ita secundum erit ad reformationem corporum [non invenitur].” Jor. op, sermo 3A (ed. Strassburg, 1483). 53 See Saak, High Way to Heaven, 445. 54 “Hic surgunt plura dubia. Et primo de eo quod dictum est quod in omni creatura turbatio apparebit, quod non videtur conveniens cum iudicium illud solum extenditur super homine que solus iudicabitur non autem alie creature.” Jor. op, sermo 3B (ed. Strassburg, 1483). 55 Saak, High Way to Heaven, 386n. Augustinus’ In orationem dominicam was an excerpt from his lectures on Matthew. See Zumkeller, Manuskripte, nr. 138 (76–​77); for his lectures on Matthew, see Zumkeller, Manuskripte, nr. 133 (73–​74). Here, in treating the first petition, Augustinus offered three questions: “… iussit ergo orare pro illuminatione totius mundi, ut verum Deus, et Creatorem omnium cognoscant, quem mundus non cognoscebant. Pro huius declaratione occurrunt tres dubitationes: 1. Utrum convenientius orans diceret: Manifestetur nomen tuus, quam Sanctificetur; 2. Utrum convientius diceret: Sanctificetur nomina tua; 3. Qualiter nomen Dei in nobis possit sanctificari.” Augustinus of Ancona, In orationem dominicam (Rome, 1587), 15. This was his approach throughout, and bears close resemblance to how Jordan treated his exposition of the Lord’s Prayer.

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Jordan responded by affirming that what happens in creation affects human beings, just as human beings affect creation,56 and he gave four reasons for this mutuality. First, every creature, or at least every corporeal creature, exists for humans. Therefore, it is fitting that when humans suffer, all creatures suffer. His second reason, mentioned above, was the relationship between the macrocosmos and the microcosmos whereby what happens to the microcosmos likewise affects the macrocosmos. Third, humans sin; by abusing creation, sin throws all of creation into turmoil as punishment. And fourth, the manifestation of the power of the one coming is such that all creation trembles and fears.57 In short, Jordan constructed a model of the universe that extended from Christ and the highest heavens through the celestial bodies to all creation and human beings in which all were connected by an intimate bond and Christ’s three-​fold advent was central to all. Thus, he related the retrograde motion of epicycles to human sin, whereas Christ was as the sun, without epicycles

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“Hic surgunt plura dubia. Et primo de eo quod dictum est, quod in omni creatura turbatio apparebit, quod non videtur conveniens cum iudicium illud solum extenditur super homine, qui solus iudicabitur, non autem alie creature. Ad quod dicendum quod conveniens est tunc omnem creaturam turbari ex quattuor causis. Prima est cum enim omnis creatura saltem corporalis sit propter hominem, conveniens est tunc homini compati omnem creaturarum. Secunda est, quia ut dicit Chrysostomus, Sicut homo cum moritur, patitur fantasias et turbationes maximas qui est microcosmus sive minor mundus, sic maior mundus deficiens totus conturbabitur. Modum enim deficiendi in maiori mundo ex maiori oportet accipere. Tertia causa est propter hominis punitionem. Conveniens est enim ut per que quis peccavit per hec puniatur, ut dicitur Sap. xi. Et quia homo peccat abutendo creatura mundi, ideo eadem creatura suis novitatibus eum torquebit, iuxta illud Sapientie v. Pugnabit pro eo orbis terre contra insensatos. Quarta causa est, ut manifesteri omni potentia venientis de cuius adventu omnis creatura contremiscet. Unde dicitur Malach. iii Quis poterit cogitare diem adventus eius et quis stabit ad videndum eum?” Jor. op, sermo 3B (ed. Strassburg, 1483). Ad quod dicendum quod conveniens est tunc omnem creaturam turbari ex quattuor causis. Prima est, cum enim omnis creature saltem corporalis, sit propter hominem, conveniens est tunc homini compati omnem creaturarum. Secunda est, quia ut dicit Chrysostomus, sicut homo cum moritur patitur, fantasias et turbationes maximas, que est microcosmus sive minor munus, sic maior mundus deficiens totus conturbatur. Modum enim deficiendi in maiori mundo ex minori oportet accipere. Tercia causa est propter hominis punitionem. Conveniens est enim ut per que quis peccavit, per hec puniatur, ut dicitur Sapiens xi. Et quia homo peccat abutendo creatura mundi, ideo eadem creatura suis novitatibus eum torquebit, iuxta illud Sapientie v. Pugnabit pro eo orbis terre contra insensatos. Quarta causa est, ut manifestetur omnipotentia venientis, de cuius adventu omnis creatura contrermiscet. Unde dicitur Malachi iii. Quis poterit cogitare diem adventus eius et quis stabit ad videndum eum?” Ibid.

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and provides the light for the entire universe.58 The three-​fold advent of Christ were cosmic events, and Jordan did not ignore the natural scientific knowledge of his day. Indeed, already in 1879, Rudolf Cruel claimed that in his Opus Postillarum, Jordan introduced a new element that in this context was previously not yet common. That is the use of learned knowledge and notes from all fields of natural science, from Astronomy, Physics, Alchemy, Medicine, Geography and the history of plants, animals, and stones. One could name such sermons, which created their organization or execution from these same works, physical or natural historical sermons.59 Yet Cruel’s observation has gone unnoticed and unstudied ever since, though Jordan was mentioned in passing by Elisabeth Schinagl-​Peitz in her article focused on the natural sciences in Latin and German sermons of the later Middle Ages. Schinagl-​Peitz, though, focused on Albert the Great and Bertold

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“Primo ergo per solem intelligitur ipse Christus triplici ratione. Primo ratione fontalis principii. Sol enim … est fons totius luminis cuius radiatione superiora et inferiora illustrantur. Unde dictus est sol quasi solus a se lucens. Sic Christus est lux lucis et fons luminis … Secundo ratione carentie epycicli. Est enim epyciclus secundum astronomos parvulus circulus in quo figitur corpus planete a quo idem planeta patitur retrogradationem. Et quia sol nunquam est retrogradus non est opus ut ei assignetur epyciclus. Per epyciclum autem intelligitur paccatum, quo a celesti patria retrogradationem patimur. Solus autem Christus fuit sine peccato … Tercio ratione motus eclyptici. Nam sol semper per lineam eclipticam movetur que est linea imaginata in medio zodiaci a qua cetere planete deviant intersecantes ipsam, nunc ad meridiem, nunc ad aquilonem. Sic Christus in omni motu sue conversationis nunquam deviavit a medio virtutis … Omnes autem alii declinaverunt ab hac rectitudine sive a dextris prosperitatis sive a sinistris adversitatis.” Jor. op, sermo 6B (ed. Strassburg 1483). Jordan here may have been drawing on Henry of Friemar’s Quodlibet, the sixth question of which was: Utrum in primis operibus Dei sit ponere motus excentricos et epicyclicos, et videtur quod non. Hen., Quodlibet, q. 6 (ed.Stroick, 209–​212). Henry argued in the affirmative, drawing from Aristotle, Averoese and Albert the Great. Stroick noted that at approximately the same time Nicholas Trivet disputed the same question in his second Quodlibet, question 8 and in his third Quodlibet, question 23. Ibid., 209, n.27. “… [Jordan’s Opus Postillarum] fügt auch ein neues Element hinzu, was in diesem Umfange frührer noch nicht gebräuchlich war. Das ist die Verwendung von gelehrten Kenntnissen und Notizen aus allen Fächern der Naturwissenschaft, aus Astronimie, Physik, Alchemie, Medicin, Geographie und der Geschichte der Pflanzen, Thiere und Steine. Man könnte solche Predigten, welche ihre Eintheilung oder Ausführung aus der Gleichen werken schöpfen, physikalische oder naturgeschichtlichen Predigten nennen.” Rudolf Cruel, Geschichte der deutschen Predigt im Mittelalter (Detmold, 1879), 426.

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of Regensburg, mentioning Jordan only five times with no analysis.60 Certainly Jordan was not the first to use natural science for sermons, but there is no indication that he did so drawing from Albert or Bertold. In other words, Jordan was not simply repeating standard practice. In sermon six, the first subsermon for the first part of the Gospel reading, There were signs in the sun, moon, and stars (Erunt signa in sole et luna et stellis) (Lk 21:25), Jordan began by noting that these words were meant to be taken literally as referring to Christ’s advent in judgement, though he would here exposit the text allegorically as referring to Christ’s advent in the flesh, namely, the incarnation.61 He justified his doing so by appealing to Isidore of Seville’s Etymologies, noting that according to Isidore, a “sign” is that which is not customary and is beyond the common course of events that brings something to that which is to be signified.62 Since therefore the mystery of the incarnation contradicts nature, there are many signs that signify it, and thus it is entirely proper to exposit these words of Scripture allegorically as signifying Christ’s advent in the incarnation (adventus in carnem).63 Jordan then continued to relate the sun to Christ, the moon to Mary, and the stars to the apostles.64 Christ is as the sun because, according to Isidore,

60 Elisabeth Schinagl-​ Peitz, “Naturkundliches Wissen in lateinischen und deutschen Predigten des Spätmittelalters,” in Volker Mertens and Hans-​Jochen Schiewer eds., Die deutsche Predigt im Mittelalter. Internationales Symposium am Fachbereich Germanistik der Freien Universität Berlin von 3–​6 Oktober 1989 (Tübingen, 1992), 285–​300. 61 “Verba ista licet ad litteram dicta sint de secundo adventu scilicet ad iudicium, latius tamen speculantes ipsa retorquere possumus ad primum adventum Christi scilicet in carnem secundum sensum allegoricum. Jor. op s. 6 (ed. Strassburg 1483). 62 “Ad cuius evidentiam est sciendum quod secundum Isidorum in libro Ethymologorum, Signum dicitur istud quod est insolitum et preter commune cursum ad aliquid significandum adhibitum.” Ibid. 63 “Et quia circa mysterium incarnationis verbi multa communi cursui nature repugnantia contigerunt, ideo ibi signa multa facta extiterunt. Quare de ista benedicta incarnatione convenienter dicebatur. Erunt imo iam fuerunt signa. Licet antequam salvator hec verba dixit, incarnationis mysterium iam in se fuerit adimpletum, non tamen adhuc fuit mundo cognitum. Et ideo quantum ad rationem rei transiverat quidem in preteritum scilicet quantum ad rationem signi erat futurum. Quia etiam quedam signorum in ipso adhuc implenda restabant, idcirco non incongrue dixit, Erunt signa etc.” Ibid. 64 “Persone autem concurrentes ad incarnationis preconium fuerunt he, videlicet Christus, beata Virgo, et apostoli. Christus inquam tanquam persona in qua incarnatio ineffabiliter est facta, qui per solem; virgo tanquam persona ex qua caro illa ineffabiliter est assumpta, que per lunam; sed apostoli tanquam persone per quas hec nobis salubriter sunt propalata, qui si non concurrerint ad incarnationis mysterium personaliter adimplendum, concurreerunt tamen ad eius preconium in misterialiter propalandum, qui per stellas significantur. Et in omnibus his apparuerunt signa mira et stupenda.” Ibid.

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the sun is the source of all light, and Christ is the “light of light and the source of light.”65 Moreover, the sun has no epicycles, which, according to the astronomers, yield retrograde motion. Yet there is no retrograde motion of the sun. Epicycles signify sin, by which we suffer retrograde motion from our heavenly home. The sun, though, or Christ, had no sin, and thus has not retrograde motion.66 Further, Christ is the ecliptic, never deviating therefrom. The sun always moves along the ecliptic, which is an imaginary line through the Zodiac, from which the planets deviate in crossing it, at the south and at the north. Thus, Christ never deviates from the mean of virtue. All others, however, do deviate from the rectitude of the ecliptic, either on the right because of prosperity or on the left because of adversity. Consequently, all those who deviate are rendered useless, for there is not one who does good, with Jordan here referencing the Psalms.67 Christ as the light of the world, and thus as equated with the sun, was a long-​standing tradition, but Jordan here tied it to astronomical or astrological knowledge of the movements of the planets. Jordan continued his astronomical exposition with respect to Mary and the apostles. Thus Mary, though not free of original sin, even if only for the shortest amount of time possible, was nevertheless free of actual sin, never deviating from rectitude.68 Jordan treated Mary’s immaculate conception in sermon 65

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“Primo ergo per solem intelligitur ipse Christus triplici ratione. Primo ratione fontalis principii. Sol enim secundum Isidorum libro Ethymologorum, est fons totius luminis, cui radiation superiora et inferiora illustrantur. Unde dictdus est sol quasi solus a se lucens. Sic Christus est lux lucis et fons luminis.” Jor., op, sermo 6B (ed. Strassburg, 1483). “Secundo ratione carentie epycicli. Est enim epyciclus secundum astronomos, parvulus circulus in quo figitur corpus planete a quo idem planeta patitur retrogradationem. Et quia sol nunquam est retrogradens non est opus ut ei assignetur epyciclus. Per epyciclum autem intelligitur peccatum, quo a celesti patria retrogradationem patimur. Solus autem Christus fuit sine peccato. Unde pro magno miro et novo dicebat de eo Johannes Baptista, Johannes 1, Ecce agnus dei. Super quo verbo dicit beatus Augustinus: Si agnus ergo innocens. Solus ipse agnus et solus innocens. Sed non sic de aliis. Unde Leo papa: Quantumlibet caste et quantumlibet sobrie hec vita ducatur, quodam tamen pulvere terrene conversationis aspergitur et nitor humanarum mentium ad dei imaginem conditarum, nunquam sic a fumo vanitatis est alienus, ut non quadam scoria possit fuscari. Solus autem Christus est sine epyciclo peccati, quia ipse est solus inter mortuos liber.” Ibid. “Tertio ratione motus eclyptici. Nam sol semper per lineam eclipticam movetur, que est linea imaginata in medio zodiaci, a qua cetere planete deviant intersecantes ipsam, nunc ad meridiem, nunc ad aquilonem. Sic Christus in omni motu sue conversationis nunquam deviavit a medio virtutis … Omnes autem alii declinaverunt ab hac rectitudine, sive a dextris prosperitatis, sive a sinistris adversitatis. Et hoc est quid conqueritur Psalmus: Omnes declinaverunt simul inutiles facti sunt, non est qui faciat bonum, non est usque ad unum. Et hic est Christus.” Ibid. Cf. Ps. 14:3; Rom. 3:12. “Et si instetur de beata virgine quantum ad utraqe rationem dicendum quod ipsa non fuit sine originali saltem per brevissimum momentum secundum communem opinionem.

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twelve, the first sermon on the readings for the second Sunday of Advent. Here Jordan argued that Mary was not conceived immaculately as such, though was freed of original sin in the very next instant after her conception, entering into a debate that was current at the time, as we saw in Chapter 7 above with Hermann, and that concerned philosophical issues such as the continuum. It was a theme Jordan turned to repeatedly in his sermons, and he based his argument on Aristotle’s physics and metaphysics of motion and change.69 Mary was equated with the moon, for the moon is the brightest amongst all the stars:70 “Wherefore just as the moon does not have its own light, but receives light from the sun and reflects it to the earth and thus repels and enlightens the darkness of the night, so the glorious Virgin.”71 Just as the moon reflects the light of the sun as no other heavenly body, so does Mary reflect the light of Christ, even though Christ remains the “light of light” with Mary serving simply as his “handmaid.” Jordan then turned to the apostles, equating them with the stars. The stars are, as Jordan affirmed, citing Al-​Farghani, simply vehicles of light, receiving what light they reflect from the sun.72 They do, though, according to the Platonists, have the nature of the element of fire, though according to Aristotle and other philosophers, the stars are as such neither hot nor cold, but are hot only effectively.73 Thus too the apostles, who through their preaching can communicate the heat of the light of Christ, but are themselves simply communicators, having neither heat nor light of themselves.74 Jordan then continued his natural scientific exposition in sermon seven (the first subsermon of sermon six, the “first sermon” on the first part of the Gospel). Whereas in sermon six Jordan had presented an allegorical, or as he said a metaphorical, interpretation, here in sermon seven he turned to a

69 70 71 72

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Etiam quod ipsa fuit immunis ab actuali, non declinans a linea rectitudinis, hoc tamen non fuit in ea virtute propria. Illud enim est privilegium soli Christo reservataum.” Ibid. See Saak, Luther, 50–​55. “Primo ratione singularis pulcritudinis et luminositatis. Luna enim pre omnibus syderibus est maxime luminosa.” Jor. op, sermo 6C (ed. Strassburg, 1483). Unde sicut luna lumem non habet a se, sed accipit a sole receptumque reflectit in terram et per illud noctis tenebras fugat et repellit, sic Virgo gloriosa.” Ibid. “Tertio, per stellas signantur apostoli et apostolici viri triplici ratione. Sunt enim stelle lucid elative aeris immutanue et caloris generative. Luci inquam delative. Unde vocantur lucis vehicular ab Alfragano, eo quod sunt copora luminosa, solis lucem a quo recipient prout possunt supplentia.” Jor. op, sermo 6D. “Unde Platonici dicebant stellas esset ignee nature. Sed Aristoteles et alii philosophi qui ponunt celum esse corpus quinte essentie, dicunt stellas non esse calidas nec frigidas subiective, sicut nec ipsum celum, sed sunt calide effective.” Ibid. Sic apostoli lucem Christi per munum provehunt clara predicatione.” Ibid.

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mystical exposition, whereby “mystical” referred to the relationship between his exposition and the text, rather than the exposition itself.75 Jordan was not detailing the mystical and spiritual nature of the incarnation, but how the physical incarnation took place. Mystically understood, Jordan explained, the signs in the heavens signify the incarnation with respect to stasis, retrogradation, and hiddenness.76 Just as with the sun, the signs in the heavens signify Christ’s incarnation with respect to the instantaneous formation of his body, the restoration of humans, and the hiddenness of divine glory.77 All nature is in motion, which too is necessary for generation. Yet an instant, according to Aristotle’s Physics, is without motion or succession, and Christ’s formation was an act within an instant, with no motion or change. Thus it was as such not a natural act, and thus too Christ was not subject to the mutability of change and corruption brought about by change. The formation of Christ’s body in his incarnation was an act within an instant in which there was no motion or succession. That the sun can cease its motion, that it can be in a state of stasis, is clear from Joshua 10:12-​14 when the Lord made the sun stand still. The formation of Christ’s body in his incarnation was such a moment, a stopping of time instantaneously, an act within an instant. Such an act is not natural and does not occur in nature; it is a divine act, an interruption of the natural course of events.78 Consequently, the natural course of events 75 “Erunt signa in sole etc. Viso de personarum ad incarnationis preconium concurrentium metaphorica descriptione, restat secondo videre de signorum eis apparentium mistica designatione.” Jor. op, sermo 7 (ed. Strassburg, 1483). 76 “Et primo videatur de signis que apparuerunt in sole videlicet Christo, que fuerunt tria in signis, que de sole corporale legimus mistice intellecta. In sole namque legimus accidisse signum stationis; signum retrogradationis; et signum obscurationis.” Jor. op, sermo 7A (ed. Strassburg, 1483). 77 “Sic in Christi incarnatione correspondenter fuerunt hec signa videlicet instantanea corporis formatio; integra hominis reparatio; et divine glorie occultatio.” Ibid. 78 “Primum igitur signum fuit perfecti hominis instantanea formatio, quam figuravit solis statio, de qua legitur Ioshua 10, quod sic patet. Cum enim motus solis in obliquo circulo sit causa generationis in istis inferioribus, de nulla generato per naturam verum est dicere solem stare. Item cum omnis actio naturalis sit in motu et in quodam transitu et successione, in nulla tali actione est statio, nec de producto tali actione pro quocumque tempore verum est dicere ipsum stare propter continuum fluxum mutabilitatis cui subiacet ac per hoc nunquam in eodem statu permanet. In actione vero instantanea, quia ibi sunt simul tempore mutari et mutatum esse ut habet declarari vi Physicorum, est quedam statio pro quanto ibi non est motus et successio. Quia igitur ista benedicta incarnatio non operatione naturalis agentis, nec successione temporis sed in instanti facta fuit, nec ipse Christus mutabilitate nature corrupte subiectus fuit, utpote quem non movit manus peccatoris, exemptus ab illis qui ibi scilicet in primo parente ceciderunt et operantur iniquitatem, expulsi sunt nec poterunt stare, Ps. xxxv. Ideo non inconvenienter dicitur in sua incarnatione solem stetisse.” Ibid.

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regarding the development of a human being occurred instantaneously with Christ. Based on Aristotle and Augustine, Jordan pointed out that there is a period of forty-​five days from conception to when the fetus is ensouled. During these forty-​five days, the embryo develops in successive stages until finally the rational soul is infused. With Christ, though, this entire process occurred instantaneously within the same instant.79 The philosophical issue of instantaneous change and the continuum was one that Jordan dealt with on various occasions, such as the conception of Mary and the extent to which Mary was conceived immaculately, and with respect to the conversion of Paul. Jordan argued against an undefined understanding of the immaculate conception for only Christ was fully formed within an instant. Mary, being human and conceived according to the course of nature, was, though, supernaturally cleansed of original sin in the very next instant, as Jordan explained in sermon twelve. Mary was conceived in original sin, but was miraculously freed from the taint of original sin in the very instant, a succession that was unmeasurable in duration.80 Likewise, Paul was converted instantaneously, though there was never an instant that Paul stopped being a persecutor and began to be an apostle.81 In such cases instantaneous change occurred within the continuum of time and the natural course of events even as the agent of the change was God. The philosophical problem of the continuum remained, but Jordan included the divine causation of instantaneous change within the continuum, even as the formation of Christ was a unique moment of stasis. In more colloquial terms, we could say that for Jordan the “world did not stop” for Mary’s conception nor for Paul’s conversion, but that it did stop for Jesus’s conception and formation. With respect to the restoration of fallen humanity’s retrogradation, the second aspect of the signs in the heavens signifying Christ’s incarnation, Jordan

79

“In quo signo ineffabili virtus divina relucebat in quattuor, que ibi fiebant in uno eodemque instanti videlicet corporis instantanea formatio, anime rationalis infusio, virtusque cum supposito divino ypostatica unio, scientiarum et virtutum perfecta concreatio. Que omnia sunt super communem legem nature et ideo pronosticant notabile signum in isto sole benedicto. Nam secundum communem cursum nature ut patet per Philosophum De Animalibus et per beatum Augustinum in libro lxxxiii.Questionibus, Corporis humani formatio xlv diebus perficitur. Quia sex diebus est sub forma lactis; post ix diebus sub forma sanguinis; xii aliis consolidatur in carnem; et ex tunc in xviii diebus sequentibus organisatur; et tunc demum anima infunditur, que etiam post successu temporis et non in instanti, scientiis et virtutibus perficitur. Sed hec omnia in Christo completa fuerunt in uno eodemque instanti. Quare hec novum et magnum signum fuit.” Ibid. 80 Saak, Luther, 52. 81 Ibid., 52–​53.

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equated human sin with the retrograde motion of the planets, which had a biblical basis in the account in Isaiah and 2 Kings when the prophet told Hezekiah that the Lord would make the shadow cast by the sun on the stairway to the terrace of Ahaz go back ten steps it had advanced (Is. 38:7).82 Thus whereas God stopped the sun for Joshua, God had the sun reverse its path by ten steps, or as Jordan put it, by ten delineations on the clock.83 The mechanical clock had come into general use in the fourteenth century and had been an attempt to chart the movements of the sun, moon, and planets.84 The clock face was at times then arranged according to the twelve houses of the Zodiac, which then Jordan referenced in discussing the twelve aspects which human nature originally had in creation, and through which they fell by the retrograde motion of sin.85 The twelve conditions of human nature in the state of innocence consisted of six pertaining to the body and six pertaining to the soul: 1. Chastity of propagation; 2. Healthiness of complexion; 3. The integrity of original righteousness; 4. The inability to suffer in body and soul; 5. Immortality; and 6. Tranquility of place. These then were added to by the six conditions pertaining to the soul: 7. Immunity from sin; 8. Complete clarity of cognition; 9. Serenity of virtue; 10. Security of blessedness; 11. Freedom of the will; and 12. The dignity of the divine image.86 82 83

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Cf. 2 Kings 20:8-​10. “Secundum signum fuit nature corrupte reintegratio, quam figuravit solis retrogressio facta tempore Ezechie, de qua legitur Esaiah xxxviii et iiii Regum xx ubi dicitur quod reversus est sol decem lineis per quas descenderat in horologo.” Jor., op, sermo 7B (ed. Strassburg 1483). See Olaf Pedersen, “Astronomy,” in David C. Lindberg, ed., Science in the Middle Ages (Chicago, 1978), 303–​337; 327–​328. It is, though, not clear or certain to what instrument Jordan was referring with the term horologium. “Natura siquidem humana olim in statu innocentie constituta quedam modo assimilabatur soli propter puritatem et claritatem naturalium et gratuitorum in quibus create fuit. Sed hec tandem a sua puritate declinando descenderat quasi decem lineis per transgressionem videlicet decalogi in horologio Ade et sue posteritatis.” Ibid. “Vel quia per illas lineas in horologo Acham que fuerunt numero xii distinguebantur hore diei, possumus per illas xii lineas accipere xii nobiles et preclaras condiciones in quibus homo conditus fuit. Quarum sex accipiuntur penes corpus et sex alie penes animam. Prima fuit propagationis castitas … Secunda complexionis sanitas … Tercia iusticie originalis integritas que consistebat in perfecta obedientia virium inferiorum ad rationem superiorum … Quarta coporis et anime impassibilitas. Nec enim erat ibi esuries neque sitis, frigus neque estus, labor neque dolor … Quinta fuit immortalitas … Sexta loci tranquillitas videlicet in paradiso … Septima fuit peccati immunitas … Octava cognitionis perspicacitas, quia habuit triplicem cognitionem scilicet dei non enigmaticam sicut nunc, sed per quamdam interiorem inspirationem nec tamen ita claram sicut beati habent in partria … Nona fuit virtutum serenitas … Decima beatitudinis securitas … Undecima arbitrii libertas … Deodecima fuit divine imaginis dignitas qua mens dei capax.” Ibid.

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These twelve conditions then are what humans lost in their retrograde motion in the Fall, with two exceptions. The free will remains after the Fall as does the divine image, but the free will is deprecated and greatly diminished, because on account of sin, humans have difficulty doing the Good and are prone to evil. Before the Fall humans could, based on their free will, sin or not sin, but after original sin, humans are not able not to sin. Likewise, “the image of God remains in the soul after the original sin, but does so as a deformed image.”87 In Christ, though, as the sun of the human condition, the Fall was reversed passing back through those ten delineations on the clock of Adam through which it had fallen because human nature in the human Christ was restored in every type of perfection of its first state, although suffering and being subject to death were not restored because Christ took these upon himself in dispensation, doing so not from the necessity of nature, but from his immense love for us.88 The third aspect of the mystical exposition of the signs in the sun is the hiddenness of divine glory in human nature, which is designated by the clouding over of the sun at Christ’s passion.89 Christ’s divine glory was hidden in his poverty and in his becoming human. Christ suffered, Christ was hungry and thirsty, and was poor as no other human being. It was also hidden in his lowly humility, and in his taking on human sinful flesh, even though he did not sin.90 87

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“Per has omnes lineas descenderat et iam ad declinum tenderat homo, qui pene omnes condiciones predictas per peccatum amiserat, et sic quasi tota dies humane felicitatis declinaverat ut dicere possent illu Luce xxiiii: Mane nobiscum domine quoniam advesperascit et inclinata est iam dies [Lk. 24:29]. Duabus solum lineis ultimis adhuc vix superextantibus scilicet liberi arbitrii dotatione et divine imaginis insignitione, que duo velut due linee adhuc remanserant secundum essentiam, vulnerate tamen quo ad naturalia et spoliate quo ad gratuita. Remansit quippe liberum arbitrium sed depravatum et immunitum, quia per peccatum difficultatem recipit ad bonum et pronitatem ad malum. Prius enim homo per liberum arbitrium poterat peccare et non peccare, sed post potuit peccare et non potuit non peccare. Imago etiam dei remansit in anima post peccatum, sed quasi deformata … Per has itaque lineas duas sol humane condicionis non plene descenderat, ut visum est omnibus aliis decem lineis per transitis et retromissis.” Ibid. “In Christo autem sol humane condicionis reversus est per illas decem lineas per quas descenderat in horologio Ade, quia natura humana in homine Christo reposita fuit in omnimoda perfectione pristine status, licet penalitates passibilitatis et mortalitatis in se assumpsit dispensative, non nature sue necessitate, sed amoris nostri immensitate.” Ibid. “Tercium signum est divine glorie in humana natura occultatio, quam designabat solis generalis obscuratio tempore dominice passionis.” Jor., op, sermo 6C (ed. Strassburg, 1483). “Fuit autem in sole Christo triplex obscuratio. In eo enim thesaurus summe abundantie occultatus est sub paupertate extreme indigentie. Quia ille in cuius domo sunt glorie et

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By reversing the retrograde motion of the Fall, taking on humanity but in a sense of hiddenness in which his divine glory and majesty were present, Christ restored the Fall of human nature through all ten delineations of the clock, which has cosmic implications as being related to the Zodiac, signified by the sun moving back ten steps as seen in Isaiah, with the exception of the last two houses, that of the Free Will and the divine image, as discussed above. Christ’s incarnation, in the words of T.S. Eliot, which Jordan would have thoroughly accepted, was an instant in time, but not of time, when the world stood still and the sun stood still, but that which gave time its meaning: Then came, at a predetermined moment, a moment in time and of time, A moment not out of time, but in time, in what we call history: transecting, bisecting the world of time, a moment in time but not like a moment of time, A moment in time but time was made through that moment: for without the meaning there is no time, and that moment of time gave the meaning. Then it seemed as if men must proceed from light to light, in the light of the Word, Through the Passion and Sacrifice saved in spite of their negative being; Bestial as always before, carnal, self-​seeking as always before, selfish and purblind as ever before, Yet always struggling, always reaffirming, always resuming their march on the way that was lit by the light; Often halting, loitering, straying, delaying, returning, yet following no other way.91 Jordan could not have expressed it better, for the implications of his exposition of Christ’s three-​fold advent were that human nature has been restored by Christ, but, though Jordan did not make this connection explicitly, our restored nature lies hidden within our fallen, sinful nature; or as Augustine had put it, Christians are citizens of the City of God, yet in this world, in this Time, exist hidden in a corpus permixtum as they make their way as pilgrims back to their

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divitie adeo pauper fuit ut non haberet ubi caput suum reclinaret. Et in hoc fuit pauperior omni creatura, quia cuilibet creature etiam brutis et insensibilibus provisus est locus sue quietis, que tamen Christo negatus fuit … Secundo splendor paterne glorie obscuratus est obumbraculo humilitatis infima … Tercio speculum sanctitatis et innocentie obumbratum est carnis peccati, non carnem peccati gessit.” Ibid, sermo 7C-​E. T.S. Eliot, “Choruses From ‘The Rock’ ” 7.

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homeland with God. Jordan did not even cite Augustine’s The City of God in his sermons on the first Sunday of Advent, though he well could have. Individual humans must make the journey that Christ has already made for human nature as such. The means of doing so is the advent of Christ in the mind, or souls, of humans, the adventus ad mentem, in Jordan’s terms. This advent Jordan related to the first advent, Christ’s incarnation and his conception in the Blessed Virgin. Likewise, Christians must prepare for the conception of Christ in their minds, which in this life is the end and consummation of all divine works; it is the greatest and highest grace of all gifts, for the adventus Christi in mentem is the reason for creation, the basis for the inspiration of the holy Scriptures, and the reason of the incarnation itself.92 Christ’s advent in the mind, or soul, enabled individual humans to make the journey back to God with Christ having already effected the restauration of human nature. Here Jordan made a distinction between powers (vires) and virtues (virtutes). That which a soul is able to choose with respect to acts, in the basic sense, “are called powers, but the powers that have already been perfected through acts and habits are called virtues.”93 Jordan then cited Aristotle’s On Heavens and the World and his Physics to confirm that virtues are the highest level of actualized potential and the disposition of the perfected towards the best.94 However, such virtues are not qualities of the soul as such, but rather are gifts of God given in the advent of the eternal Word into our souls, for “we are not sufficient to consider something in and of ourselves as if based on our own powers, but rather our sufficiency is from God.”95 God had created the essence of the human soul as the font from which the soul’s powers flow, “just as God creates grace in the soul from which the virtues flow, that is, 92

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“De adventu vero in carnem ideo festa recolimus quatenus per ea verbum eternum mentaliter concipere mereamur, ita quod mentalis verbi eterni conceptio videtur esse quedammodo omnium operum divinorum finis et consummatio. … Unde ipsa mentalis conceptio est maxima et suprema gratia omnium donorum, que in hac vita secundum legem communem anime devote per gratiam conferuntur. Si enim queratur quare deus universas creaturas produxerit, quare sacram scripturam menti rationali inspiraverit, imo etiam quare ipse pro nobis incarnari voluerit, apte respondetur quod hoc ideo fecerit ut in mente rationali ipse per gratiam conciperetur et in ea presentialiter nasceretur.” Jor. op, sermo 9A (ed. Strassburg, 1483). “Potentie autem anime simpliciter accepte in ordine ad actus quas possunt elicere, dicuntur vires, sed ut iam perfecte sunt per actus et habitus dicuntur virtutues.” Jor. op, sermo 10A (ed. Strassburg, 1483). “Unde dicit Philosophus primo De celo et mundo quod virtus est ultimum potentie et septimo Physicorum dicit quod virtus est dispositio perfecti ad optimum.” Ibid. “Sed huiusmodi virtutes non habet anima ex se sed de deo, quia nos non sumus sufficientes aliquid cogitare ex nobis tanquam ex nobis, sed sufficientia nostra ex deo est.” Ibid.

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the dispositions of the perfected powers.”96 Jordan then cited the Psalms to affirm that the heavens were made by the Word of the Lord, whereby the “heavens” can also be understood here as the spiritual heaven, namely, as the human soul, and the Psalmist added that all virtue was made by the mouth, or breath of the Lord, whereby it should be understood as all the virtues were made by the mouth, or breath of the Lord.97 Therefore, there is no virtue in the soul that was not created by God, which contradicts those who deliriously argue that the virtues in our soul were not created.98 Our virtues and our powers are not ours, except as gifts of God’s grace. In this light, the virtues and powers of our souls are related to the powers of the angels, created spiritual Beings.99 Jordan then explicitly related the motion of the heavens and spiritual Beings to the progression of individual souls. The virtues put into effect the spiritual motion of the soul’s return to God, whereby God is the “first mover,” who moves souls by the infusion of grace to move the free will to loving God and the operations of the virtues.100 There are, though, three stages of the soul’s progression, each effected by the motion of the “first mover” moving the soul. For those individuals who are beginners in the spiritual life (incipientes), God moves their souls to the compunction of guilt and the sorrow for sin. For

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“Nam sicut deus creat essentiam anime a qua fluunt potentie sive vires eius, sic creat in animam gratiam a qua fluunt virtutues id est huiusmodi virium perfective dispositiones.” Ibid. 97 “Unde Psalmus cum di dixisset, verbo domini celi firmati sunt, intelligendo de celis spiritualis puta de animabus, subdit: et spiritu oris eius omnis virtus eorum.” Ibid. The reference here is to Ps. 33:6 (32:6 in the Vulgate). 98 “Signanter dicit celum, id est animam factam verbo, quia omnia per ipsum facta sunt, sed virtutes dicuntur facte spiritu oris eius, que spiritus realiter idem est quod ipsum verbum, sed connotat amorem et quamdam benignitatem, quam nomen spiritus importat ad designandam appositionem gratie, que ad rationem virtutis exigitur. Dicit autem omnis virtus ad designandum quod nulla virtus est in anima que non sit creata. Quid est contra quosdam delirantes qui dixerunt quod in anima nostra est quedam virtus que non est creata nec creabilis. Et si tota anima esset talis, ipsa esset increata et increabilis. Qui error eliditur in eo quod hic dicit omnis virtus.” Ibid. 99 “Possit autem omnes virtutes anime comprehendi secundum quamdam similitudinem penes virtutes celorum, id est angelos, large accipiendo virtutes pro omnibus angelis.” Jor., op sermo 10B (ed. Strassburg, 1483). Jordan then continued to explicate how the nine orders of angels were related to human virtues in human souls. 100 “Ex virtutibus enim bene exercitatis progreduntur operations que sunt quasi quedam spirituales motiones dei in anima. Et hoc notatur in eo quod subditur, movebuntur. Imaginari enim debemus quod in hoc celo spirituali ex mobili deus est sicut motor primus, a quo virtus motiva derivatur in animam sicut a quodam fonte paterno a quo fluit gratia in animam per quam deus movet liberum arbitrium ad se amandum et virtuose operandum.” Jor., op, sermo 11A (ed. Strassburg, 1483).

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those making progress (proficientes), God moves their souls to the continued progression toward spiritual perfection. And for those who are contemplatives (contemplativi), God moves their souls to the internal foretaste of divine sweetness.101 Jordan then explicitly stated that this three-​fold motion that God effects in human souls is related to the three-​fold motion that astronomers posit in heavenly bodies, namely, the motion of the planets, the motion of the outermost sphere, and the motion of the first mover.102 Jordan offered a late medieval version of the principle that ontogeny replicates phylogeny, whereby the heavens and all of creation, the macrocosmos in Jordan’s terms, replicates the microcosmos, and vice versa. Christ’s descent in his incarnation and ascent in his resurrection restored the depravation of human nature lost in the Fall and did so in an instant, a moment in Time but not of Time, reversing the retrograde motion of sin, turning back the sun ten delineations on the clock, making possible the return of the human soul to its origins and end. God was for Jordan the cosmic and divine clock maker,103 who could make the sun stand still or set the sun back ten demarcation. The Zodiac itself was a “time piece” and it was down through the houses of the Zodiac that human nature fell, restored by Christ, whose incarnation was an instantaneous event, a moment in Time but not of Time, that allowed for the ascent, the return of human nature to its original state. Ascent and descent, falling away and return, these were the themes Jordan focused on again and again, having opened each of his three great sermon collections with the image of the river Jordan flowing backward, returning to its origin and source. Individual humans, however, existed in the realm of the lowest part of the descent of human nature. To bring about humans’ ascent and return, which could only be effected based on God’s creative grace, one had to accept the advent of Christ into their souls and minds which would make the return, the ascent, possible to begin with as individuals progressed from beginners, to those making progress, to contemplatives, or to the perfect, as Jordan elsewhere expressed it, drawing on Henry of Friemar.104 Just as the Church’s liturgical year was cyclical, so was 101 “Hec autem motio dei in anima triplex est secundum triplicem statum. Incipientes movet ad culpe conpunctionem et peccatorum dolorosam rememorationem. Proficientes movet ad profectus spiritualis continuam progressionem. Sed contemplativos movet ad divine dulcedinis internam degustationem.” Ibid. 102 “Et hec triplex motio dei in anima accipi potest secundum triplicem motum quem ponunt astronimi esse in celis corporalibus, videlicet motum planetarum, motum augis, et motum primi mobilis.” Ibid. 103 For the image of clock maker, see John D. North, God’s Clock Maker. Richard of Wallingford and the Invention of Time (London, 2005). 104 Saak, High Way to Heaven, 445, n.318.

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the long journey, the long pilgrimage home, for just as the planets, humans were subject to retrograde motion, equated with sin, even with an ascendent trajectory. Jordan’s Opus Postillarum presents not simply a collection of sermons, but an entire cosmology, confirming, at least in part, the observation of Cruel over a century ago.105 But Cruel only got it partially right; Jordan’s Opus Postillarum presents not just natural scientific exempla for use in sermons. It presents an entire “world view,” an entire cosmology, that relates the microcosmos with the macrocosmos, without, however, ever stating or suggestion that the latter was the “cause” of the former. Astronomical and astrological knowledge was central, but not because the relationship between the heavens and the Zodiac and human souls was one of cause and effect. Jordan never attributed to the heavenly bodies a causal nature, even as he frequently pointed to the harmonious parallels within the whole of creation itself. Long before Ernst Haeckel proposed the principle of ontogeny replicating phylogeny in 1866, Jordan had already done so, even if with other terms, in his Opus Postillarum. It was, and remains, an erudite work, a scholarly work, and an academic work, and it was recognized as such, even in its own time. That Jordan’s Opus Postillarum was seen as a scholarly work at the time is evidence by John of Basel’s citation of Jordan in his lectures on the Sentences as mentioned above. In determining his second question on the first distinction of the first book of the Sentences, John treated the capacity of the soul for the fruition of God and whether God’s intrinsic and immense perfection is universally a sufficient objective reason of fruition.106 In arguing for his first conclusion that divine nature alone is a sufficient reason of fruition,107 John cited, among others, including Robert Holcott, Richard Brinkley, Adam Wodeham, and Richard Kilvington, the Augustinians Thomas of Strassburg, Gerard of Siena, Gregory of Rimini, Hugolino of Orvieto and lector Jordanus de Saxonia: Concerning this material, lector Jordan of Saxony would have said, as is clear in his own Postil, that the capacity of the soul, which can be called God’s repository, is continuously expanded from the presence of God and

1 05 See note 59 above. 106 “Utrum universaliter quaelibet et sola perfectio deo intrinseca et immense fruitionis ordinatae sit ratio sufficienter obiectiva.” John of Basel, 1 Sent. dist. 1, q.2 (ed. Marcolino, 289,3–​5). 107 “Prima conclusio: Sola natura divina est sufficiens ratio et unica ordinatae fruitionis obiectiva, ad se fruendum movens unica ratione quamlibet partem imaginis creatae.” Ibid. (ed. Marcolino, 292,15–​17).

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of his gifts. And thus even though no maximum capacity is given, the soul itself is not able to be satisfied in anything else except in God.108 The sermon to which John was referring is sermon 37 of the Opus Postillarum. Sermon 37 is the second subsermon of the sermo de eodem after the postils on the four parts of the Gospel reading for Ember Wednesday, the Wednesday after the Third Sunday in Advent.109 The text he was treating was Gabriel’s salutation to Mary and Mary’s being “full of grace” (gratia plena). Jordan argued that the designation “full of grace” did not apply only to Mary, even if it applied to Mary in a unique sense, but rather could be applied to every beloved soul.110 Jordan put forth three reasons this was the case. First, on account of the capacity of the subject.111 Second, on account of the plenitude that overflows to the inferior powers of the soul and beyond, even to teaching others and serving as examples to them.112 And third, this fullness concerns the communication of a higher love.113 He devoted the majority of his treatment to the first reason, namely, the capacity of souls. Here Jordan posed two questions. First, whether such a beloved soul, being already full of grace, is able to progress and grow even further in grace? Second, whether such a soul ought to remain content with the amount of grace it already has and no longer seek even more grace?114 To the first question Jordan began by stating that it seems that such a soul 108 “In ista materia diceret lector Iordanus de Saxonia, sicut patet in sua Postilla, quod capacitas animae, quae eius sinus potest vocari, ex Dei praesentia ac donorum ipsius continue dilatatur. Et sic etiam non datur maximum ipsius capacitates nec ipsa anima in alio quam in Deo potest satiari.” Ibid. (ed. Marcolino, 296,29–​297,4). 109 Jordan divided the Gospel reading, Luke 1:26-​38, for the Quarta feria Quatuor temporum in Adventum into four parts. After expositing each part, he then included a sermo de eodem, designated as a “mystical exposition” (Expositio mystica eiusdem evangelii et sermo de eodem. Jor. op, sermo 35), together with seven subsermons. 110 “Sed qualiter plenitudo gratie conveniat cuilibet anime amorose, hic videndum est. Sciendum igitur quod hec plenitudo gratie attenditur penes tria.” Jor., op, sermo 37A (ed. Strassburg, 1483). 111 “Primo penes capacitatem subiecti prout plenum dicitur illud cuius capacitas est repleta.” Ibid. 112 “Secundo hec plenitudo attenditur penes redundantiam in vires inferiors et exteriors quando videlicet mens ita repletur gratia quod per redundantiam quasi diffundit ad vires omnes inseipsa et etiam extra se ad proximos per doctrinam et bonam exemplaritatem.” Ibid., sermo 37B. 113 “Tertio hec plenitudo attenditur penes communicationem caritatis superne.” Ibid. sermo 37C. 114 “Ubi cadit duplex question. Prima, an talis anima sic gratia plena possit proficere et plus crescere in gratia … Secunda questio est, an talis anima debeat stare contenta et non amplius appetere de gratia.” Ibid., sermo 37B.

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cannot grow further in grace, because if it could, it would not have been full to begin with. To the second question, Jordan posited that such a soul should remain content, because it was already full.115 He then offered his response (respondeo). In short, Jordan introduced two “scholastic” questions in his sermon dealing with the “mystical” interpretation of Gabriel’s salutation. This should remind us, as argued above, that for Jordan a mystical interpretation concerns the relationship between the text and the exposition, and not the exposition itself, which should then condition the extent to which Jordan, and others like him, can be categorized as a “mystical” or “spiritual” author. In Jordan’s response to the questions posed, he asserted that he would treat both questions together in arguing that a beloved soul is always able to progress and to desire grace, regardless of it being already full of grace and however perfect it might be.116 His first argument is based on the course of life in this world (status vie), which can lead many from the straight path of blessedness that is ordered to the homeland as to a station of final destination.117 Even Paul, Jordan affirmed, in his letter to the Philippians affirmed that he had not attained the goal, but followed the path based an imperfect understanding (Phil. 3:12). Whoever might claim that they have sufficient grace, is led off the path before reaching its end. Even Mary, after she had heard Gabriel tell her that she was full of grace, received even more grace by being told that the Holy Spirit would overshadow her and she would conceive.118 In short, Jordan put forth an argument based on the infinity of blessedness and grace, even though he did not use the concept of infinity, but one whereby an infinite quantity can be added to infinity and infinity will still be infinity. Being “full of grace” was analogous in this sense to having an infinite amount of grace, which did not 1 15 “Et videtur quod non, quia tunc non esset plena … Et videtur quod sic, quia plena.” Ibid. 116 “Respondeo ad utramque questionem simul. Circa hoc est error quorundam dicentium quod talis anima non possit ulterius proficere nec debeat plus desiderare de gratia. Sed hunc errorem alibi improbavi. Dicendum ergo quod quantumcumque mens perfecta sit et gratia plena, adhuc tamen semper proficere potest et debet amplius desiderare de gratia.” Ibid. 117 “Quod patet ex ratione status vie que multum deficit a perfecta ratione beatitudinis et ordinatur ad patriam sicut ad terminum.” Ibid. 118 “Unde dicit apostolus Philippiensis tercio: Non quod iam acceperim aut iam perfectus sim sequor autem si quomodo comprehendam. Ubi dicit Glossa: Nemo fidelium et si multum profecerit dicat sufficit mihi. Qui enim hoc dicit, exit de via ante finem. Unde etiam beata virgo postquam audiverat ab angelo quod esset gratia plena, adhuc postmodum maiorem gratiam accepit. Unde angelus subiunxit: Spiritussanctus superveniete in te etc. [Lk. 1:35]. Et quod dicitur quod hoc repugnant plenitudinem.” Ibid. Cf. Phil. 3:12 niv: Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already arrived at my goal, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me.

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negate the possibility for additional grace, or for the desire for additional grace. This analogy, though, does not completely hold since Jordan’s argument was that being “full of grace” but living still in this life, subject to the distractions of this life, entailed the possibility of losing grace, of falling away from the path. Consequently, it would seem, given that possibility, there was therefore the possibility of receiving more grace after already having already been hailed as “full of grace.” Paul himself realized that he had not yet attained his end, his goal, but pursued his end in so far as he had at least a degree of understanding; and Mary, had received additional grace even after being proclaimed as being “full of grace.” Being “full of grace” yet still in via, still on the journey back to heaven, back to God and to one’s home, itself entailed the lack of perfection of being full of grace, even though one was already “full” of grace, foreshadowing, in a sense, the dictum of “already, but not yet,” a simultaneous state of opposition, in some ways akin to Luther’s simul iustus et peccator. It was, for Jordan, the tension between being in the state of being in via, and the state of being in patria. Until one was home, at rest, having completed the journey, one was always capable of receiving more grace, even having already been full of grace. There were, Jordan then affirmed, two understandings of “capacity.” First, “capacity” can be taken as a natural capacity, natural capacity has a limit, in that a container can only be filled to its natural capacity.119 Second, “capacity is … the capacity of obedience, according to which one is able to receive something from God. And this capacity is not able to be filled, because whatever God works in creatures, they always remain in a potential state of being able to receive from God. And in this sense, as much as the soul achieves in its progression in grace, so much is the extent of the soul’s capacity expanded and increased. And this extension comes about formally through the desire itself of the mind, but effectively it is realized as coming from God.120 Though Jordan did not explicitly bring in the concept of infinity, the philosophical concept of infinite capacity lay behind his exposition. The infinite

119 “Dicendum quod duplex est capacitas. Capacitas una naturalis. Et hec potest impleri totaliter.” Jor., op, sermo 37C (ed. Strassburg 1483). 120 “Alia obedientialis secundum quod potest recipere aliquid a deo. Et hec capacitas non potest impleri, quia quidquid deus in creatura facit, adhuc semper remanent in potentia recipiendi a deo. Et secundum hoc quanto magis anima in gratia perficit, tanto magis hec capacitas extenditur et ampliatur. Et hec extensio formaliter fit per ipsum desiderium mentis, sed efficienter a deo.” Ibid.

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capacity of the soul, of the mind, for receiving God’s grace, is limited only formally by one’s desire for God. God’s ability to expand and extend the soul’s capacity to receive whatever grace God so desired to work within it as the efficient cause of the expansion itself was indeed infinite. There were philosophical issues and discussions that lay behind Jordan’s treatment of the capacity of the soul, just as there were philosophical issues and discussions that lay behind Jordan’s treatment of instantaneous change within the continuum, when the “world stopped,” when the sun stopped or even reversed its course, when Time stopped, even as within that instant there was action and change, the instant of the incarnation, which Jordan divided into an instant of nature and an instant of time, whereby Mary was conceived in original sin in the instant of conception, but in the very next instant, the very next instant of nature, was cleansed from the stain of original sin, even as both of these instances took place within a single instant of Time.121 The formation of Christ’s body was another example of instantaneous change, where in the very same instant the normal process of embryonic development occurred, whereby Christ’s adventus in carnem was mystically related to his adventus in iudicium that was itself based on the sun having been blotted out at his crucifixion and in his coming again to judge the living and the dead, as signified by the signs in the heavens, the signs in the sun, and in the moon, and in the stars. It was, perhaps, these philosophical issues underlying Jordan’s sermons, including those concerning the “mystical” interpretation of the text, that led John of Basel to cite lector Jordanus as an authority equal to the other great theologians of his Order and of his day, as he argued his case for the capacity of the soul for fruition, which, as Jordan put it, was based on the adventus in mentem. Yet the academic, scholarly construct of Jordan’s Opus Postillarum is indicated not only by its citation by John of Basel. Jordan’s citation of authorities itself signifies its academic nature. Jordan cited from a wide variety of sources, including Ptolemy, Galen, Aristotle, and Avicenna, as Table 13 below illustrates. Here I have tabulated Jordan’s citation of authorities, excluding Scripture, for the sermons for the First Sunday of Advent, namely, sermons numbers 3 to 11. Nine sermons out of 460 certainly are not a statistically valid sample. They do, though, give an indication of Jordan’s erudition and his appeal to authorities for supporting his exposition.122 These are not “ornamental” citations,123 1 21 Saak, Luther, 51–​58. 122 I have not identified these sources, for the importance hereof that I want to underscore is Jordan’s appeal as such, regardless of whether he got every reference correct, or took some of his references from intermediary sources. 123 See Introduction above, n. 49.

474  table 13

Chapter 8 Jordan of Quedlinburg’s citations in op sermons 3–​11 (first sunday in advent)

Author/​Authority

Number of total citations

Augustine

36

Bernard of Clairvaux

13

Gregory the Great

10

Origin Aristotle

7 6

Isidore

6

Chrysostomus

4

Works cited (frequency) Confessiones (7) Contra Felicianum (1) De catechezandis rudibus (1) De genesi ad litteram (2) De 83 questionibus (2) De trinitate (5) De utilitate credendi (1) Epistola 2 ad Volusianum (1) In libro de virginitate (1) In quodam sermone (1) Sermo de apostolis (1) Sermo de virginibus (1) Super illo verbo Exodi (1) Super Iohannem (2) Super Matheum (1) Super Psalmum 29 (1) Unspecified (7) Super Cantica (4) Homelia 2 super Missus est (2) Sermo 10 (1) Unspecified (6) Homelia (3) Dialogi (1) Moralia (1) Unspecified (5) Unspecified (7) Physicorum (2) De animalibus (1) De celo et mundo (1) Unspecified (2) Ethymologia (5) Unspecified (1) Super Matheum (1) Unspecified (3)

475

Jordan of Quedlinburg table 13

Jordan of quedlinburg’s citations in op sermons 3–​11 (cont.)

Author/​Authority

Number of total citations

Jerome Theophilus Anselm

4 4 3

Bede Peter Lombard Rabanus Maurus Alfraganus Damescenus Glossa Ordinaria Ptolemy

3 3 3 2 2 2 2

Astrologi Astronomi Avicenna Basil Cassiodorus Collationes Patrum Dionysius Galen Hippocrates Hugh of St. Victor Leo the Great Peter of Ravenna Platonici Total

1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 123

Works cited (frequency) Unspecified (4) Unspecified (4) Plantus ad virginem (2) Proslogion (1) Unspecified (3) Libri Sententiarum (3) Unspecified (3) Unspecified (2) Unspecified (2) Unspecified (2) De iudiciis astrorum (1) Unspecified (1) Unspecified (1) Unspecified (1) Unspecified (1) Unspecified (1) Unspecified (1) Abbas Serenus De hierarchia celesti De diebus creticis Prognosticon De triplici meditatione Unspecified Super illud Luci 1 Unspecified

but citations to give erudite, scholarly credence to Jordan’s interpretations to evidence that he knew what he was talking about. These are academic, scholarly sermons, not ones to pull off the shelf on Sunday morning to read to a popular crowd on the street corner. Preaching was a foundational academic act in

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the Faculty of Theology at Paris, and above I mentioned Henry of Friemar’s sermons composed at Paris during his regency. We do not know Jordan’s whereabouts when he was composing his Opus Postillarum, though I have argued that some of the sermons at least had their origins in Jordan’s lecturing on the Bible in the Order’s studia in Erfurt and Magdeburg.124 We do know that Jordan was still working on the Opus Postillarum in 1365, though was getting very near the end.125 And, he composed two further series of sermons after his Opus Postillarum and before his death in 1380, his Opus Jor, another series de tempore, and his Opus Dan, a series of sermons de sanctis. From Table 13 above, one authority in particular stands out, namely, Augustine. Jordan cited Augustine almost three times as often as any other authority, aside from Scripture. He did so, moreover, from a wide variety of Augustine’s works. Jordan was not unique in appealing to Augustine as his major source for late medieval sermon literature, though evidences a reliance on Augustine that was not uniformly accepted.126 A more thorough analysis would be required to determine the level of his erudition with respect to Augustine and how that might compare to the scholarly erudition of his Order’s university theologians, particularly those who had contributed to the renaissance of Augustine scholarship.127 Yet Jordan’s appeal to authorities, and the authorities to which he appealed, evidence that his Opus Postillarum was a genre of theology that was as complex and sophisticated as were Sentences commentaries and is an essential witness for our understanding of late medieval theology. 2.3 Jordan’s Opus Dan As stated above, after his Opus Postillarum, Jordan continued to compose two additional major collections of sermons, his Opus Jor, also a collection de tempore, and his Opus Dan, or sermones de sanctis. Here we see a “heraldic mystification,” as Damasus Trapp phrased it, also evident in the principia of lectures on the Sentences,128 whereby the two works reference Jordan’s own name. Such a device also indicates that Jordan composed his Opus Jor before his Opus Dan, so that the Opus Dan was Jordan’s last work, and based on printed editions,

1 24 This is particularly the case with his Expositio Orationis Dominice, as discussed above. 125 In sermon 440, De anti-​Christo, Jordan noted that the anti-​Christ had not yet arrived as he was writing in 1365. 126 See Saak, “Sermons” in oghra 3: 1717–​1726. 127 See Saak, “The Augustinian Renaissance: Textual Scholarship and Religious Identity in the Later Middle Ages,” oghra 1:58–​68. 128 Trapp, “Augustinian Theology of the Fourteenth-​Century,” 269–​272.

Jordan of Quedlinburg

477

Jordan’s sermons on the saints was his most popular work. There are over sixty-​ five extant manuscripts of the 271 sermons comprising the Opus Dan, and at least six printed editions (Ulm, s.a.; Strassburg, 1481 and 1484; Paris 1500, 1509, and 1521).129 Moreover, if Jordan exhibited a special relationship to Augustine as seen based on his citation of authorities in his Opus Postillarum, such a devotion to and high estimation of Augustine is confirmed in his Opus Dan. Jordan dedicated twenty-​two sermons to Augustine (sermons 129-​151), as well as two sermons on Augustine’s two translations (sermons 59 and 185).130 Whereas all other doctors of the Church could be compared to stars, Jordan eulogized, only Augustine was worthy of comparison with the sun.131 Jordan’s estimation of Augustine was so great that he claimed: “… blessed Augustine can be called the city of God … just as whatever is necessary for life can be had in a city, so in blessed Augustine can be found whatever is necessary for salvation.”132 Jordan even went so far as to claim that Augustine’s teaching held such weight “that nothing in divine scriptures is secure that is not confirmed by his authority.”133 In short, Augustine, as presented in Jordan’s Opus Dan, was in a category of saints all by himself, a genuine alter Christus, as portrayed as well in the Sermones ad fratres suos in eremo of Jordan’s Collectanea Sancti Augustini.134 1 29 Zumkeller, Manuskripte, nr. 641. 130 Of the twenty-​two sermons on Augustine, however, one actually is not Jordan’s, as he explicitly mentioned, but rather that of Ferdinand of Spain, the Bishop of Avignon; see Saak, High Way to Heaven, 175, n. 37. 131 “… [Augustinus] ceteros ecclesie doctores tam ingenio quam scientia vicit incomparabiliter. Unde cum aliis doctores assimilentur stellis, ipse soli comparatur.” Jor. Opus Dan, sermo 59D (ed. Strassburg, 1484). This image Jordan quoted from the Legenda Aurea: “Unde alii doctores comparantur stellis … hic autem comparatur soli … omnes ecclesiae doctores tam ingenio quam scientia vincit incomparabiliter.” Th. Grassse, ed. Jacobi de VoragineLegenda Aurea, 124 (1890; reprint Osnabrück, 1969), 548, 60. Jordan did not, however, simply repeat previous praise. For Jordan, Augustine had renewed the apostolic life after the time of the apostles; Jor. vf 3,2 (326ff), and he displayed the same perfections as St. Paul: “Et he sex perfectiones accipiuntur penes sex que contigerunt circa apostolum Paulum cum esset in via versus Damascum, que etiam invenimus in beato Augustino. Prima perfectio est divine gratie preveniens illustratio. Secunda est suiipsis omnimodo deiectio. Tertia est divini nutus inspiratio. Quarta est voluntatis in deum totalis transformatio. Quinta est mentis in seipsa ascensio. Sexta est naturalium virium relictio.” Jor. Opus Dan, sermo 135A (ed. Strassburg, 1484). See also n. 16. 132 “… beatus Augustinus civitas dei dici potest … sicut reperitur in civitate quicquid est necessarium vite, sic in beato Augustino quicquid est necessarium saluti invenitur.” Jor. Opus Dan, sermo 130B (ed. Strassburg, 1484). 133 “… magnus est in ecclesia autoritate doctrine. Tanta enim autoritas est eius doctrina ut nihil in divinis scripturis sit solidum quod non sit eius autoritate confirmatum.” Jor. Opus Dan, sermo 131A (ed. Strassburg, 1484). 134 Saak, Creating Augustine, 119–​137; 125–​127.

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In addition to Augustine himself, the sermons of the Opus Dan and the saints they treated can be organized into four general categories, three of which then also have subcategories, as delineated in Table 14. Such a categorization and listing of the saints treated in the collection can then be compared with other collections of sermons on the saints to recognize emphases of the given collections. For example, neither Ps.-​Petrus de Palude, nor the Dominican Johannes Nider, nor Johannes Herolt included Augustine at all in their sermones de sanctis. The Italian Dominican, Leonardus de Utino (d. 1469) included only one long sermon on Augustine in his collection, which was the collection of sermones de sanctis most frequently published.135 In short, sermones de sanctis are an invaluable source for understanding the models of sanctity and the theology of sanctity in the later Middle Ages, and as a genre in and of themselves, have received relatively scant attention.136 And the same applies even more so to Jordan’s Opus Dan, in which, together with his other sermon collections, as I have argued elsewhere, Jordan exhibited a model of sanctity that was new, namely, what I have called “transformational sanctity,” which if not foreshadowed, was at least a precursor to the “revolutionary sanctity” of the Reformation and beyond, for Jordan argued in no uncertain terms that every Christian was to be a saint.137 While Jordan’s Opus Dan was a collection of sermons on the saints, organized according to the liturgical feast days, it did not simply relate miracle stories offering heroic models of religiosity. Much like his Opus Postillarum, it was a theological work and included a catechetical summation of Christian life and doctrine. Sermon 102, for example, is a sermon Jordan labeled, A Treatise on the Articles of Faith (Tractatus de articulis fidei). It was the sixth and final sermon in a series on the dispersion of the Apostles throughout the world (In divisione apostolorum). Jordan’s Treatise on the Articles of Faith bears similarities to Thomas Aquinas’s own treatise On the Articles of Faith and the Sacraments,138 in which Thomas included twelve articles of faith, divided into six concerning the divinity of Christ and six concerning the humanity of Christ, for “the entire Christian faith 1 35 Saak, “Sermons,” oghra 3: 1717–​1722; 1721. 136 The point of departure, though, for future research is Beverly Mayne Kienzle et al., eds., Models of Holiness in Medieval Sermons, fidem, Textes et études du moyen âge 5 (Louvain-​la-​Neuve, 1996). 137 Saak, “Quilibet Christianus: Saints in Society in the Sermons of Jordan of Quedlinburg, OESA,” in Kienzle, et al. eds., Models of Holiness, 317–​338. 138 Thomas Aquinas, De articulis fidei et ecclesie sacramentis; online at: Thomas de Aquino, De articulis Fidei et Ecclesiae sacramentis ad archiepiscopum Panormitanum (corpusthomisticum.org).

Jordan of Quedlinburg479 table 14

od Sermons categories

1. Biblical Saints Christ 19–​23: 32–​34: 35–​37: 45: 74–​76: 85: 161–​164: John the Baptist 86–​91: 152–​153: Peter 93: 94: Paul 49–​50: 92: 95: Other Apostles 2–​5: 15–​18: 24–​26: 27–​29: 56–​58: 69: 70–​73: 84: 97–​102: 107–​109: 112: 128: 165–​174: 186–​187: 190–​191: 229–​232:

De nativitate domini De circumcisione domini De ephiphania domini In octava Epiphanie De inventione sancte crucis De corpore Christi De exaltatione sanctae crucis De S. Ioanne Baptista In decollatione s. Ioannis Baptistae De sanctis Petro et Paulo De sancto Petro De conversione sancti Pauli De sanctis Ioanne et Paulo De sancto Paulo Sermones de sancto Andrea De sancto Thoma De sancto Stephano De sancto Ioanne De sancto Matthia De sancto Marco De sanctis Philippo et Iacobo De sancto Barnabas In divisione Apostolorum De sancto Iacobo De inventione s. Stephani De sancto Bartholomaeo De sancto Matthaeo De sancto Luca De sanctis Simone et Iuda De communi apostolorum

480  table 14

Chapter 8 od Sermons categories (cont.)

The Blessed Virgin 10–​12: 51–​52: 64–​67: 116–​125: 154–​160: Mary Magdelena 103–​106: The Holy Spirit 79–​83: Others 30–​31: 233–​234: 2. St. Augustine 59: 129–​151: 185: 3. Post-​Biblical Saints The Early Church 9: 38–​44: 46–​48: 184: 188–​189: 208: 235–​237: 238–​240: 241–​244: 245–​251: Medieval Saints A. Female Saints 6: 13–​14: 53: 96: 205:

De conceptione Marie Virginis De purificatione Marie Virginis De annunciatione beate Virgine De assumptione virginis gloriosae De nativitate Virginis Mariae De sancta Maria Magdalena De sancto Spiritu De innocentibus De evangelistis De translatione sancti Augustini De sancto Augustino De translatione s. Augustini De sancto Ambrosio De sancto Paulo primo eremita De sancta Agnete De sancto Hieronymo De unodecim millibus Virginum De sancto Clemente De communi unius martyris De pluribus martyribus De confessoribus De virginibus De sancta Barbara De sancta Lucia De sancta Agatha De sancta Margareta De sancta Elizabetta

Jordan of Quedlinburg table 14

od Sermons categories (cont.)

206–​207: 209–​214: B. Male Saints 7–​8: 60–​62: 63: 68: 113–​115: 126–​127: 175–​179:

De sancta Cecilla De sancta Catarina

De sancto Nicolao De sancto Gregorio De sancto Benedicto De sancto Georgio De sancto Laurentio De sancto Bernardo De sancto Mattheo et sancto Mauricio cum sociis suis 180–​183: De sancto Michaele et de angelis 203–​204: De sancto Martino 4. The Church in the World Sanctifying the Church 54–​55: De cathedra sancti Petri 77–​78: De s. Ioanne ante portam Latinam 110–​111: De sancto Petro ad vincula 215–​228: De dedicatione ecclesie Holy Vocations 192–​197: De omnibus sanctis 198–​202: De animabus 252–​253: De quolibet sancto vel sancta 254–​265: Ad religiosas personas 266: Pro sacerdotibus 267: De militibus 268: De nobilibus 269: De mercatoribus 270: De scholasticis 271: De clericis

481

482 

Chapter 8

turns upon the divinity and humanity of Christ,”139 as delineated in Table 15 below. Thomas mentioned that some include seven articles for each division for a total of fourteen articles of faith.140 In short, by the later thirteenth century the enumeration of the articles of faith had not been set. Thomas related each article to statements in the Creed, making reference to both the Apostles’ Creed and the Nicene Creed. The focus for his treatise was to explain the foundational assertions of the faith that stood against erroneous and heretical positions. For each article, both the six regarding Christ’s divinity and the six regarding Christ’s humanity, Thomas discussed, at times extensively, the errors the particular article refuted, usually then before asserting the credal statements. Jordan took a rather different approach. Jordan, like Thomas, asserted twelve articles of faith, but these he based explicitly on the assertions of the Creed. Moreover, Jordan attributed each of the twelve assertions of the Apostles’s Creed to individual apostles, and included as well that to which each article referred, that which it conferred, and the fruit of the Holy Spirit that it infused, as tabulated in Table 16. Whereas Thomas divided the articles of faith into two distinct, though certainly related, parts, namely, those concerning Christ’s divinity and those concerning Christ’s humanity, Jordan included the entire Trinity within his division of the articles as well as the Church itself. And whereas Thomas’s treatment was doctrinal with the emphasis on countering heretical positions, Jordan’s was pastoral with respect to the import and function of the articles of faith of the Creed for the individual believer and her or his life within the Church. Jordan’s was a pastoral and ecclesiological exposition as compared to Thomas’s doctrinal exposition. Both, though, were theological. Jordan had 139 “… quod tota fides Christiana circa divinitatem et humanitatem Christi versatur.” Thom. Aq. Tractatus de articulis fidei et ecclesie sacramentis, pars 1; at: Thomas de Aquino, De articulis Fidei et Ecclesiae sacramentis ad archiepiscopum Panormitanum (corpusthomisticum.org). 140 “Circa utrumque autem horum a quibusdam sex, a quibusdam septem articuli distinguuntur; et sic omnes articuli secundum quosdam duodecim, secundum quosdam quattuordecim esse dicuntur.” Ibid. Jordan acknowledged the two different numberings as well, ending his treatise with the following: “Notandum quod alii et altari diversi diversimode predictos articulos distribuuntur per apostolos. Quidam etiam distinguunt eos in quattuordecim quod discrepat a numero apostolorum. Qua propter quamvis certum sit istud symbolum ab apostolis esse compositum, estimo tamen quod non singillatim singuli apostoli singulos articulos posuerunt, sed omnes uno spiritu afflati singulos et singuli omnes articulos posuerunt. Qui quidem articuli omnes et si sint quatuordecim propter numerum apostolorum tamen edentium ad duodenatrium reducuntur et secundum hoc cuilibet apostolo unus articulus adaptatur, quem modum et ego in presenti tractatu sum secutus.” Jor., od, sermo 102M (ed. Strassburg, 1484).

Jordan of Quedlinburg483 table 15

Thomas’s De articulis fidei structure

Secundum Divinitatem Articulus

Errores

1. Ut credamus 1. Genilium sive Paganorum essentiae divinae 2. Manichaeorum unitatem 3. Anthropomorphitarum 4. Epicureorum 5. Quorundam gentilium philosophorum 2. Quod sunt tres 1. Sebelli persone divine 2. Arii in una essential 3. Eunomii 4. Macedonii 5. Graecorum

3. Alii vero quatuor articuli divinitatis pertinent ad effectus divinae virtutis, quorum primus, qui est tertius, pertinent ad creationem rerum in esse naturae

1. Erravit Democritus et Epicurus 2. Platonis et Anaxagorae 3. Aristotelis 4. Manicheorum 5. Simonis magi et Meandri 6. Error eorum qui posuerunt Deum per se ipsum non gubernare mundum

In symbolo

Et contra hos omnes errores in symbolo dicitur: credo in deum patrem (…) et in filium eius unigenitum, non factum,consubstantialem cum patri (…) et in spiritum sanctum dominum et vivificantem qui ex patre filioque procedit.

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table 15 Thomas’s De articulis fidei structure secundum divinitatem (cont.)

Secundum Divinitatem 4. Pertinet ad effectum gratiae, per quam vivificat ecclesiam a deo

1. Cerinthi, Ebionis, et Nazareorum 2. Donatistarum 3. Pelagianorum 4. Origenis 5. Cathaphrygiarum, id est Montani, Prisce et Maximillae 6. Cerdonis 7. Eorum qui quaedam quae ad perfectionem vitae pertinent, asserunt esse ad necessitatem salutis 8. Eorum qui dicunt e contrario 9. Negantium liberum arbitrium 10. Priscianistarum 11. Dicentium quod homines dei gratiam et caritatem habentes, peccare non possunt 12. Eorum qui ea quae ab ecclesia dei universaliter sunt statute, dicunt non esse observanda 5. De resurrectione 1. Valentini mortuorum 2. Hymenaei et Phileti 3. Quorundam haereticorum modernorum 4. Eutychii 5. Dicentium quod corpora humana in resurrectione vertentur in spiritum 6. Cerinthi

Et contra omnes istos errores in symbolo apostolorum dicitur: sanctam ecclesiam catholicam; sanctorum communionem; remissionem peccatorum; et in symbolo patrum dicitur: qui locutus est per prophetas; et unam sanctam catholicam et apostolicam ecclesiam. Confiteor unum baptisma in remissionem peccatorum.

Et contra omnes hos errores dicitur: carnis resurrectionem; et in alio symbolo: expecto resurrectionem mortuorum

485

Jordan of Quedlinburg table 15 Thomas’s De articulis fidei structure secundum divinitatem (cont.)

Secundum Divinitatem 6. Ultimum 1. Dicentium quod anima Vitam eternam, Amen. effectum moritur cum corpore divinitatis, qui 2. Origenis est remuneration 3. Dicentium quod omnes bonorum et poenas et omnia premia punitio malorum malorum et bonorum futuras esse aequales 4. Dicentium quod animas malorum non statim post mortem descendere ad internum 5. Dicentium non est purgatorium animarum post mortem Secundum Humanitatem Articulus

Errores

In symbolo

1. Nunc restat considerare articulos qui pertinent ad humanitatem Christi. Circa quam sex articulos distinguunt, quorum primus est circa conceptionem et nativitatem Christi 2. De passione et morte Christi 3. De resurrectione Christi

1. Carpocratis, et Cerinthi et Ebionis et Pauli Samosateni et Photini 2. Manicheorum 3. Valentini 4. Apollinaris 5. Arii 6. Apollinaris 7. Eutychis 8. Monothelitarum 9. Nestorii 10. Carpocratis 11. Helvidii

Conceptus est de spiritu sancto, natus ex Maria virgine; et in symbolo patrum: qui propter nos homines et propter nostram salutem descendit de celis et incarnatus est de spiritu sancto ex Maria virgine et homo factus est.

1. 2. 1. 2.

Crucifixus, mortuus et sepultus Tercia die resurrexit a mortuis

Manicheorum Gaiani Cerinthi Origenis

486 

Chapter 8

table 15 Thomas’s De articulis fidei structure secundum humanitatem (cont.)

Secundum Humanitatem 4. De descensu ad inferos

Contra quosdam qui posuerunt ipsum Christum non descendisse per seipsum ad inferos Seleuciani

5. De ascensione Christi in caelum 6. De adventu ad Circa hoc aliqui errant iudicium

Descendit ad inferos

Ascendit in celum, sedet ad dexteram patris Qui venturus est iudicare vivos et mortuos

taken a similar approach in his Expositio Orationis Dominice as discussed above, correlating each petition of the Prayer to the gifts, beatitudes, and fruits of the Holy Spirit. Jordan’s theological treatment of the articles of faith can be seen in in the very structure of the treatise itself. Jordan’s relating each of the articles of faith to one of the apostles was no mere number game of mystical association that was so prevalent in medieval treatments, from the importance of the number three, related to the Trinity, to the four Gospels, the five books of Moses, and the six days of creation, which then added to the four Gospels gave the perfect number of ten associated with the Ten Commandments; the Gospels multiplied by the Trinity yielded twelve, the number of the apostles, and the trinitarian structure was virtually omnipresent with three times three yielding nine, the number of the order of angels, and if we take the Gospels and the Trinity we have seven, the days of creation including the seventh day of rest, and on we could go. Such associations were not without importance, and Jordan himself had claimed that Augustine had taken twelve hermits from the monastery of Simplicianus with him to establish the Order in Africa in Jordan’s own Vita Sancti Augustini, based on the Sermones ad fratres suos in eremo.141 Yet Jordan’s Tractatus de articulis fidei was sermo 102 of a series of six sermons on the division of the apostles and here Jordan had already established the importance of the apostles for the spread of the Church, assigning a geographical region of the known world to one of the apostles (see Table 17). 141 Jor., Vita 7 (ed. Saak, 791–​792; Saak, Creating Augustine, 108–​109, 122–​127.

Jordan of Quedlinburg487 table 16

Tractatus de articulis fidei structure, op sermo 102

Articulus

Apostolus

Ad quem/​ Quid confertur quam refertur

Fructus

A: Credo in deum patrem omnipotentem creator celi et terre B: Credo in Iesum Christum filium eius unum dominum nostrum C: Qui conceptus est de spiritu sancto natus ex Maria virgine D: Passus sub Pontio Pylato, crucifxus, mortuus et sepultus

Petrus

Pater

Potentia

Caritas

Andreas

Christus

Radiosa illustratio intellectus

Gaudium

Johannes

Christus

Gratie divine dulcorosa fecundatio

Pax

Iacobus maior

Christus

1.Equanimitas Patientia voluntarie passionis pro Christo; 2. Penalitas mundialis delectationis; 3. Mortificatio hominis exterioris; 4. Vite veteris omnimoda oblivio Inferni Longanimitas spiritualis in nobis destructio

E: Descendit ad Philippus inferna

Christus

488  table 16

Chapter 8 Tractatus de articulis fidei structure, op sermo 102 (cont.)

Articulus

Apostolus

Ad quem/​ Quid confertur quam refertur

F.: Tercie die resurrexit a mortuis

Thomas

Christus

G: Ascendit ad Iacobus celos, sedit ad minor dexteram patris omnipotentis

Christus

H: Inde venturus est iudicare vivos et mortuos

Bartholomeus Christus

Fructus

1.possumus Fides spiritualiter a morte anime ad vitam iustitie resurgere; 2. Docemur resurgere ad vitam incorruptibilem; 3. Anime in Deo confirmation 1.omnium Bonitas credentium post se attractio; 2. Loci pro nobis preparatio; 3. Mentis nostre ad celum spiritualem ascension Iudicii triplici Mansuetudo remedio pro triplici fructu:1.Confessio et penitentia; 2. Bona operatio; 3. Elemosinarum largitio

489

Jordan of Quedlinburg table 16

Tractatus de articulis fidei structure, op sermo 102 (cont.)

Articulus

Apostolus

Ad quem/​ Quid confertur quam refertur

Fructus

I: Credo in spiritum sanctum

Matheus

Spiritus sanctus

Spiritus sanctus ut: 1.Consolator; 2. Doctor; 3. Testificator

K: Credo Simon sanctam ecclesiam catholicam L: Credo Judas sanctorum communionem, remissionem sanctorum M: Credo carnis Matthias resurrectionem et vitam eternam

Ecclesia

1.sanctificatio; 2. Una; 3. Unitas caritatis

1.consolatio; 2. Quod ignorantes instruit ipse spiritus sanctus; 3. Infirmos in se solidat Modestia

Ecclesia

Remissio peccatorum

Ecclesia

Minus de morte Castitas amicorum tristamur, et mortem proprium minus tristemus

Continentia

Jordan asserted that the apostles first stayed in Jerusalem for twelve years but then were sent out to the Gentiles since the Jews of Jerusalem had not listened to them.142 The spreading of the Gospel would not have taken place 142 “… preceptum fuit apostolis a Christo ut post passionem suam duodecim annis predicarent in Iudea … Expletis autem illis duodecim annis quibus apostolis in Hierusalem et finibus Iudee predicaverunt cum ex precepto domini per orbem dividi deberent … Ex tunc convenientibus apostolis in Hierusalem dixerunt ad Iudeos: Vobis quidem oportuit

490 

Chapter 8

table 17

Geographical division of the Apostlesa

Apostle

Geographical region

Peter Paul Andreas John Thomas Philip Bartholomew Mathew Simon Thaddeus (Jude) Mathias James

Rome Greece Scythia and Achaya Asia Persia, Bracinaura, India Syria, Asia Licheonia Ethyopia Egypt Mesopotamia Juda Jerusalem

a   For ease I have used here English names for the apostles and the geographical regions/​territories. I could not find for sure a reference to Achaya, and none at all for Bracinaura, or Licheonia either in Orbis Latinus, or simply with Google searches. Thus I left them with Jordan’s orthography, with the exception that in the text they are in the accusative. All these references at to Jor. od, sermo 97 B (ed. Strassburg, 1484).

without the apostles having been dispersed throughout the world, for they were the very foundation of the faith itself. In the sermon preceding his Tractatus, Jordan has established the importance of the apostles in relating them to the gates of the walls of the Heavenly Jerusalem as described in Revelations 21, whereby the names of the twelve tribes of Israel inscribed on the gates according to Revelations became for Jordan the names of the apostles. These twelve then were likewise the twelve articles of faith, correlating the heavenly Jerusalem with the faith itself that was to be preached to the whole world, by the apostles. The entire Church, the entire Christian faith itself has its foundation in the articles of faith, which the apostles composed, and which together comprise the Apostles’ Creed, expressing the faith of the Church, the Christian faith as such, in one God, one faith, and one baptism. Jordan then

primum nuntiari verbum dei sed quoniam illud repellitis et indignos vos iudicastis vite eterne, ecce convertimur ad Gentes.” Jor. od, sermo 97A (ed. Strassburg, 1484).

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indicated that he was composing his sermon, and consequently his treatise, for his own brothers, for he made the reference to the Augustinian liturgy wherein at Prime and Compline the Creed is said in private, signifying that when it was composed the Church was still under persecution and had to worship underground since they could not worship openly in public. Such a Creed was the means by which the Church survived and that which the apostles did indeed preach to the entire world having had the world divided among them to provide the foundation of the faith, the foundation of the Church itself that would be transformed into the Heavenly Jerusalem with its twelve gates.143 This was a theological vision and assertion, for his own co-​religious, whereby Jordan was offering instruction rather than pastoral exhortation, which, though, was by no means excluded. It was also an ecclesiological vision, whereby Christ was the head of his Church, which the apostles then preached to the world, making it truly catholic. Jordan, though, was not as such composing a treatise on the power of the Church (de potestate ecclesie) or on the power of the pope (de potestate pape). There is, nevertheless, ambiguity in Jordan’s treatment of the pope as the head of the Church (caput ecclesie) that is not all that dissimilar from what we already saw in Augustinus of Ancona’s Summa. In treating the tenth article of faith, belief in the one, holy, catholic, and apostolic Church, Jordan asserted that Christ was indeed the head of the Church: 143 “Murus civitatis habens fundamenta duodecim et in ipsis duodecim apostolorum nomina, Apoc. xxi. … Ad quorum verborum introductionem est sciendum quod inter alia secreta celestia que beato Iohanni in sua apocalipsi fuerunt divnitus revelata, fuit illud quod ostendit ei angelus civtiatem sanctam Hierusalem descendentem de celo a deo habentem claritatem dei et habebat murum magnum et altum. De isto muro sunt verba proposita quia habuit fundamenta duodecim et in ipsis nomina apostolorum duodecim. Per civtiatem istam sanctam intelligitur sancta ecclesia, cuius murus magnus et altus est scilicet fides Christi secundum Glossam que munit et tuetur ecclesiam. Huius muri funamenta duodecim sunt duodecim articuli fidei qui bene dicuntur fundamenta quia super eis tota fides ecclesie, ymo universalis perfectio vite Christiane est fundata. Et ad ipsos omnia que respiciunt fidem ecclesie reducuntur. Cuius etiam duodecim articulis fundamentalibus fidei catholice in scripta sunt duodecim nomina duodecim singulorum duodecim apostolorum qui ipsos articulos composuerunt. Et post spiritussancti missionem et ante eorum divisionem ut et omnes idem concordiret ubique predicarent quatenus esset una fides quia unus deus, Ephe. iiii. Unus deus, una fides, unum baptisma. Et inde est quod ista complexio duodecim articulorum dicitur symbolum apostolicum. Quod secrete dicimus in prima et in completorio ea ratione quia quando istum sybolum fuit editum nondum fides fuit adhuc in publicum propalat, sed quasi secrete inter pauciores fideles servata propter invalescentes persecutiones Iudeorum et Gentilium. De istis igtiur fidei Christiane fundamentis est illud Psalmi: Fundamenta eius in montibus sanctis, ut per montes sanctos intelliguntur sancti apostoli, in quibus ista fidei fundamanta fuerunt iniciata, firmata, et solidata.” Jor. od, sermo 101A (ed. Strassburg, 1483).

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From this article a three-​fold fruitful effect is conveyed to believers. First, that we are made the elect, Ephesians 1: He chose us in himself before the establishment of the world, we, namely, who are in the unity of the Church, and what follows: so that we might be saints and immaculate in love. Second, that we are members of Christ, who is the head of the Church, Ephesians 1 [Eph. 1:22] and Corinthians 8 [cf. 1 Cor. 8:6]. Third, that we are participants in all good which comes about in the Church through the communion of brotherly love, which is in the Church based on our bearing each other’s burdens [Gal. 6:2].144 Yet in sermon ninety-​four of the Opus Dan, for which Jordan took as his pericope Matthew 16:18-​19 for treating St. Peter, Jordan forcefully argued that Peter was the head of the Church (caput ecclesie) whereas Christ was the foundation (fundamentum): Just as a Christian is called such based on Christ, so Peter is called a rock. The rock, however, is Christ. Wherefore the Lord, having spoken the words, You are Peter, immediately added: and on this rock I will build my Church. Peter certainly is the head of Christ’s Church, not its foundation. Wherefore according to Augustine, Christ did not say, “on Peter” but “on the rock” I will build my Church, in head namely and in members. By saying therefore, “You are Peter,” Christ showed that Peter was founded on the rock, namely, on Christ, exceeding the other apostles in many prerogatives.145 144 “Ex hoc articulo credentibus provenit triplex effectus fructuosus. Primus quod efficimur electi, Ephe i. Elegit nos in ipso ante mundi constitutionem, nos scilicet qui sumus in unitate ecclesie et sequitur ut essemus sancti et immaculati in caritate. Secundus, quod sumus membra Christi qui est caput ecclesie, Ephe 1 et Chor. viii. Tercius, quod sumus participes omnium bonorum que fiunt in ecclesia per communionem caritatis fraterne que est in ecclesia ex eo quod sumus alter alterius membra.” Jor., op sermo 102 K (ed. Strassburg, 1484). 145 “Sicut Christianus a Christo sic Petrus dicitur a petra. Petra autem erat Christus [1 Cor. 10:4]. Unde dominus dicto verbo proposito, Tu es Petrus statim adiunxit et super hanc petram edificabo ecclesiam meam. Cuius quidem ecclesie Petrus caput est, non fundamentum. Unde secundum Augustinum, Christus non dixit supra petrum sed supra petram edificabo ecclesiam meam in capite videlicet et in membris. Dicendo ergo Tu es Petrus, Christus ostendit Petrum fundatum esse supra petram scilicet Christum excellentem pre aliis apostolis in pluribus prerogativis …” Jor., od, sermo 94A (ed. Strassburg, 1484); cf.: “Sed scio me postea saepissime sic exposuisse quod a Domino dictum est, Tu es Petrus, et super hanc petram aedificabo Ecclesiam meam; ut super hunc intelligeretur quem confessus est Petrus dicens, Tu es Christus filius Dei vivi: ac sic Petrus ab hac petra appellatus personam Ecclesiae figuraret, quae super hanc petram aedificatur, et accepit

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Jordan continued by detailing the seven prerogatives granted to Peter that were not shared by the others. Peter had a unique position as head of Christ’s Church, for not simply Christ himself, but the entire Trinity had conferred on Peter the fullness of jurisdiction and power in granting Peter the keys of the kingdom in the power to bind and loose, and whatever Peter would bind or loose would be bound or loosened in heaven.146 As head of the Church, Peter possessed Christ’s fullness of power and fullness of jurisdiction, an argument Augustinus of Ancona likewise made, while Christ himself remained the rock on which Christ’s Church was founded, head and members. How then are we to understanding Jordan’s position when he likewise clearly asserted Christ as the head of the Church (caput ecclesie)? Augustinus of Ancona distinguished three different understandings of the “pope,” whereby the pope was Christ’s vicar as the successor of Peter with fullness of power and jurisdiction and the head of the Church; and the pope was a human being, subject to the failings of human beings; and the pope was the bishop of Rome. All three understandings of “pope” were always present, which rendered the pope occupying the office rather ambiguous.147 Jordan did not address the pope as such, but focused on Peter himself. The Petrine succession was central to theories of papal supremacy, but Jordan’s focus was the relationship between Peter and Christ and how each could be said to be the head of the Church, though Jordan did not explicate how that worked itself out. An indication of how Jordan may have explained the apparent contradiction, however, is found in sermon ninety-​eight, for here Jordan was addressing Christ’s having chosen the apostles and the various ways that election was unique. Christ had, Jordan affirmed, chosen the apostles not only to serve him during his ministry and to teach and preach the Gospel to every nation, but also to sit with him in judgement when he would come again to judge the living and the dead. Making explicit reference to Matthew 19, and essentially offering a Gloss on the text, Jordan explained that Christ had chosen the apostles who had left everything and followed him, namely, in imitating Christ’s sanctity and virtuous claves regni coelorum. Non enim dictum est illi, Tu es petra; sed, Tu es Petrus. Petra autem erat Christus; quem confessus Simon, sicut eum tota Ecclesia confitetur, dictus est Petrus. Harum autem duarum sententiarum quae sit probabilior, eligat lector.” Aug., retract. 1,21,1 [re: Contra epistolam Donati heretici, liber unus (non exstat) (pl 32, col. 618). 146 “Tota vero trinitas Petro sic electo sic examinato sic confirmato plenam iurisdictionem contulit, quia potestatem plenam sibi dedit super celum cum dixit: Tibi dabo claves regni celorum et super mundum cum dixit: Quidcunque ligaveris super terram erit ligatum et in celis et super infernum dum dixit: Et porte inferi non prevalebunt adversus eam.” Ibid., sermo 94F. 147 Saak, High Way to Heaven, 70–​138.

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works, to be judges in the final judgement, sitting on twelve thrones judging the twelve tribes of Israel, since they had not believed the apostles who had believed.148 Here the twelve thrones parallel then the twelve gates of the heavenly Jerusalem. Jordan, then, continued by giving an explication of the various types of judgement, or the various types of power to judge. And nevertheless it should be known that there are multiple types of judging. First is the type of judging that is of the primary or ordinary power and thus God alone judges. Second is that of the sub-​authority or delegated power, and thus Christ will judge insofar as Christ is human, because the Father gave all judgement to his son, John 6. The third type of judging is of assessorial dignity, and thus the apostles will judge, who are even more eminent than all others and therefore they by right will sit on their thrones as those who give their perfected work to fulfilling the divine laws. The fourth is of approbation, and thus all saints and angels will judge with Christ because they approve his just sentence.149 The power of all judgement primarily and ordinarily is that of God, but God delegates that power to Christ, his son. The apostles will sit in judgement as assessors, whereas all the angels and saints will judge in the sense of approbation. The apostles do not have the power of judgement as such. The power of judgment was not delegated to them by God, or by Christ. Rather, Christ, having elected the apostles, established them in the office of judge as assessors. The only delegated, or “sub-​authority” Jordan mentioned was Christ as a human being, who had the power of judgement that had been delegated to him by God, who retain the primary and ordinary power of judgement.

148 “Tercio elegit eos in iudices. Mat. xix. Vos qui reliquistis omnia et secuti estis me, scilicet meam sanctitatem et virtuosa opera imitantes, in regeneratione, id est, in finali iudicio, mundi renovatione cum sederit filius hominis in sede maiestatis sue quia Christus iudicabit in forma humana in qua ab impiis iudicatus fuit, sedebitis vos super sedes xii iudicantes duodecim tribus Israel, quia scilicet vobis credentibus illi credere noluerunt.” Jor. od, sermo 98E (ed. Strassburg, 1484); cf. Mt. 19:28. 149 “Est tamen sciendum quo multiplex est modus iudicandi. Primus est primarie vel ordinarie potestatis et sic solus deus iudicabit. Secundus est subauctoritatis vel delegate potestatis et sic iudicabit Christus in quantum homo quia pater omne iudicium dedit filio Iohan. vi [Jn. 5:22]. Tercius est assessorie dignitatis et sic iudicabunt apostoli qui sunt etiam omnibus eminentiores et ideo debent sedere super thronos tanquam illi qui legibus divinis adimplendis perfectam operam dederunt. Quartus modus est approbationis et sic omnes sancti et angeli cum Christo iudicabunt quia veram eius sententiam approbabunt.” Jor., od sermo 98F (ed. Strassburg, 1484).

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The distinction between the power of judgment and its delegated exercise helps to explain the relationship for Jordan between Christ as the head of the Church and Peter. Christ is the head of the Church, yet delegated that power to Peter, whereby Peter is the sub-​authority or delegated authority. Such a relationship between a primary and ordinary power and authority and a delegated power, or sub-​authority, is that of a vicar. A papal vicar would have the power and authority of the pope to the extent that it was delegated to him in his office. And Peter had the delegated power and authority of Christ, whose vicar Peter was. Thus Christ is the foundation of the Church, not the head, whereby Peter is the head of the Church as the delegated authority and power with Christ remaining the foundation on which he built his Church, a Church that included Peter as its established, delegated head. Yet Christ, in the ordinary and primary sense is both the foundation and the head of the Church, because Peter is head only by means of a delegated authority and power, even as that delegation is effected by the entire Trinity, whereby having been confirmed and established, Peter possessed the fullness of power and the fullness of jurisdiction, even as the jurisdiction and power themselves remained Christ’s. In short, Jordan offered an exposition of Matthew 16:18-​19 that was thoroughly in keeping with his Order’s political theology as the architects of papal hierocratic theory, while likewise avoiding claims that the Church itself was founded on Peter. For Jordan, Petrine power is not an intrinsic power, but a delegated power. Within that delegated jurisdiction and power of Peter, namely, within Christ’s Church with Peter as its head, the apostles had a singular position, for the apostles, including Peter, would sit as assessors in the final judgement. The apostles, elected specifically and specially by Christ, were as the twelve gates of the heavenly Jerusalem, the entry way into salvation for all others. Even the angels and saints did not have the position within the heavenly hierarchy occupied by the apostles. Yet in the passage quoted above, we find a further aspect to the apostles and to Jordan’s ecclesiology as well, namely, the centrality of belief. The apostles sit in judgement as assessors who believed Christ in all things whereas the twelve tribes did not believe the apostles. Belief was central, for Jordan was, after all, explicating the Creed, the twelve statements composed by the apostles that began with the asserting, “I believe” (Credo). The tenth article of the Creed, “I believe in one holy, catholic, and apostolic Church,” was foundational and essential, because, as Jordan explained, such belief effects our election, for Christ had elected us, chosen us, before the establishment of the world, and by such belief we are members of Christ, the head of the Church, and finally, such belief allows us to partake of all the good which are in the Church through the communion of brotherly love.

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Belief, however, was not as straightforward for Jordan as it might at first seem. It was not belief as such that was effective, but a certain type of belief. Jordan distinguished three types of belief, or rather, three understandings of what “to believe God” means. One can believe that what God speaks is true (credere deo), and one can believe that God is (credere deum), but such a belief the “unbelievers” or the evil ones (mali) can also believe. The belief that is the belief of the Creed and that confers the fruits of the Holy Spirit and the grace of God is the belief in God that is combined with love and thus to adhere to God and become incorporated in God’s members.150 This distinction Jordan took from Augustine, though he did not reference Augustine explicitly. The passage in Augustine is found in Augustine’s sermon 130A, one of the sermons discovered by François Dolbeau. That Jordan knew the text, and had it on his desk is very likely. Based on a comparison of Jordan’s text with that of Augustine, we find Jordan using Augustine for his own purposes, engaging with the text to appropriate it for his own, as indicated by the underlined text in Table 18 below in Jordan which indicates word for word use of Augustine’s text.151 Jordan was not simply throwing out a reference to Augustine as an authority. He was not simply quoting from Augustine as his Order’s mythic founder. He was appropriating Augustine for himself, making Augustine’s text his own, and to this extent, saw no need to cite Augustine as his reference, which he frequently did. Moreover, belief, for Jordan, or rather in the verbal form, “to believe,” the basis for the assertions of the articles of faith, was established by love, which was itself an Augustinian position. Efficacious belief had to be joined with love, and was not as such distinguishable from it. To believe was to love, and to love was to believe, which became the very definition of theology as argued by the Augustinian magistri at the universities in their defining theology as affective knowledge (scientia affectiva).152 Based on the dating of Jordan’s Opus Dan, namely, to the later fourteenth century, one might claim that Jordan’s appropriation of Augustine evidences the influence of his Order’s university theologians from Giles of Rome to John of Basel, who had turned to Augustine to define theology as affective knowledge, all composing their lectures on the Sentences before Jordan wrote his Opus Dan. Yet one could also

150 “Hic nota quod aliud est credere in deum et aliud credere deum et aliud credere deo. Credere enim deo est credere esse vera que loquitur deus quod et mali faciunt. Credere autem deum est credere quod ipse sit deus, quod iterum mali faciunt. Sed credere in deum est credendo eum amare, credendo in eum ire, credendo ei adherere, et sic eius membris incorporari.” Jor., od, sermo 102A (ed. Strassburg, 1484). 151 Cf. Saak, “Theology of Giles of Rome,” 124. 152 See Volume 2 of this present work; see also Saak, “The Theology of Giles of Rome.”

Jordan of Quedlinburg497 table 18

Comparison of Jordan and Augustine: credere deum/​Christum

Jordan, Opus Dan, sermo 102A (ed. Strassburg, 1484).

Augustine, Sermo 130A, 5 (Dolbeau sermo 19); Augustin d’Hippone, Vingt-​ Six Sermons au Peuple d’Afrique, ed. François Dolbeau, Collection des Études Augustiniennes, Série Antiquité 147 (Paris, 1996), 147–​165; 159,104–​124 Hic nota quod aliud est credere in Et quoniam paulo ante distinximus deum et aliud credere deum et aliud aliud esse credere illi, credere credere deo. Credere enim deo illum et credere in illum—​credere est credere esse vera que loquitur illi est credere uera esse illa quae deus quod et mali faciunt. Credere loquitur, credere illum est credere autem deum est credere quod ipse quod ipse sit Christus, credere in sit deus, quod iterum mali faciunt. illum diligere illum—​, iam discute Sed credere in deum est credendo tua ista: credere quae loquitur uera eum amare, credendo in eum ire, esse, credere ipsum esse Christum, credendo ei adherere, et sic eius diliere Christum. Credere uera esse membris incorporari. quae loquitur, multi et mali possunt. Credunt enim esse uera et nolunt facere ea: ad operandum pigri sunt. Credere autem ipsum esse Christum, hoc et daemones potuerunt. Petrus ergo: Tu es Christus, filius dei uiui, amando dixit; daemones hoc timendo dixerunt … Cum ergo audis: ‘Crede in Christum’, parum sit tibi credere Christo, id est uera esse quae loquitur Christus, parum sit tibi credere Christum, id est ipsum esse quem deus per prophetas praenuntiauit, sed crede in Christum, id est dilige Christum. Hoc cum impleueris, nihil a te amplius exigetur, quoniam plenitudo legis caritas.

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see that Jordan’s Opus Dan, together with his Opus Jor and Opus Postillarum, represent the theological instruction in the Order’s non-​university studia, through which every Augustinian candidate to be sent to Paris would have had to pass. Consequently, Jordan’s sermons represent the theological instruction that was prerequisite to and that consequently informed the theological works produced by Augustinian magistri in Paris. The belief that was effective was a belief combined with love, and love formed the very basis of the members of Christ, the communion of saints. In expositing the eleventh article of the Articles of Faith, Jordan asserted that the communion of saints consists of the members of Christ, who were those who rightly lived under Christ, their head. Moreover, this communion effected the remission of sins, based on the sacraments of the Church, which are themselves effective due to the passion of Christ.153 Yet this was not a “works righteousness,” based on partaking of the sacraments in obedience to the institutional Church. Jordan had already affirmed that the communion of saints was based on belief that effected one’s election, an election God had determined before the establishment of the world. Predestination was central for Jordan, for God was in control and had the primary and ordinary power of judgement. God had chosen his elect, including the apostles, and had so before any foreseen merits.154 This does not mean, however, that the saints are simply passive, and have nothing to do but believe. While the elect, the predestined, the members of Christ and of Christ’s Church may well have indeed been chosen by God before the establishment of the world, in hoc tempore, as Augustine put it, Christians are in a constant battle with Satan, and must fight with all they have, striving to do God’s will, even as all striving, all works, are themselves gifts of God.155 Throughout his works, including in his Opus Dan, the three-​fold stages of Christian life, namely, the

153 “Undecimus articulus est: Credo sanctorum communionem remissionem peccatorum, quia caput ecclesie est Christus ut dictum est. Cuius membra sunt omnes Christiani et omnes sunt sancti inquantum recte vivunt sub capite Christo suo et huiusmodi sancti omnes Christus videlicet et Christiani communionem inter se habet et bonum unius communicatur alteri, bonum quidem Christi communicatur omnibus membris et membra mutuo communicant actus suos, de hac communione sanctorum Christi videlicet et Christianorum in ecclesia est presens articulus quo dicitur sanctorum communionem. Et quia huiusmodi communio fit per sacramenta ecclesie in quibus operatur virtus passionis Christi, ideo bene additur, remissionem peccatorum.” Jor., od, sermo 102L (ed. Strassburg, 1484). 154 For Jordan’s emphasis on predestination, see Jor., od, sermo 95 (de sancto Paulo), sermo 98 and sermo 101C. 155 Saak, “Pelagian/​Anti-​Pelagian Preaching,” 311–​334.

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progression from beginners (incipientes), to those making progress (proficientes), to the perfect (perfecti), were fundamental.156 For Jordan, the Christian life was one of a return to the homeland, modeled on Exodus, whereby Christians are aliens in an alien land, making their way home—​an Augustinian vision indeed.157 The extent to which Jordan’s Opus Dan is unique amongst Sermones de sanctis in the later Middle Ages is a determination only future scholars can make. Jordan’s was not, in any case, a collection focused on the canonization of potential candidates for sainthood, nor one that sought primarily to stimulate individual, personal piety and devotion. It was not hagiographical in the common understanding of the term. It presented a theological vision of the Christian life, that included theological doctrines of predestination, human responsibility and endeavor, and an ecclesiology that was in keeping with his Order’s platform. It was, moreover, a thoroughly Augustinian vision, at least in the sense of Jordan’s own appeal to Augustine throughout, and the emphasis he gave to the founder of his Order. Augustine was the wise architect of the Church” (sapiens architector ecclesie) and stood preeminent as the sun, dispersing his light throughout the Church, whereby nothing in Scripture was secure without his authority. Jordan’s Opus Dan, as his Opus Jor and his Opus Postillarum, presented a sophisticated theology, even as the genre and form differed from the theological productions of his Order’s magistri at Paris. Much work remains to be done on his Opus Dan, as on his other series of sermons. If we want to understand the theology of the later Middle Ages, sermon collections, as well as biblical commentaries, must be given equal consideration together with lectures on Lombard’s Sentences. As the case studies of Henry of Friemar, Hermann of Schildesche, and Jordan have demonstrated, Augustinian theology in the later Middle Ages was far broader and more extensive than the theology debated at Paris. Yet until, for example, a comparative study of Jordan’s Opus Dan with other collections of Sermones de sanctis is undertaken, with respect to what saints were included within the collections as well as the context of the doctrine contained therein, we will not have a basis to claim that we understand the theology of sainthood or holiness in the later Middle Ages at all. While the genre and style of Jordan’s theological production distinguished it from that which was produced by Augustinian magistri at Paris, the theology present therein was as sophisticated and as erudite. And the same applies for the works of Henry of Friemar and Hermann of Schildesche. Jordan

1 56 For this scheme in the Opus Dan, see Jor., od, sermo 99 (ed. Strassburg, 1484). 157 Saak, High Way to Heaven, 394–​465; idem, “Quilibet Christianus.”

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espoused a theology based on his reading and appropriation of Augustine, his Order’s father, teacher, leader, and head, whose body Augustine’s members, Augustine’s true sons, were to fill out, were to re-​embody, in their imitation of Augustine as the rule and exemplar of all they did. This Jordan knew, and this John of Basel knew as well, having sought Jordan’s advice on who was indeed an Augustinian and how that was to be known. John cited lector Jordanus explicitly in his own lectures on the Sentences; many others did not, even as Jordan’s theology was the theology that his Order’s future university theologians would have learned and in which they would have been trained in being taught what being an Augustinian entailed in the first place: an adherence to the works of Augustine; an imitation of Augustine; a theology of love; a theology of predestination that did not exclude human responsibility, which was most of all to recognize that the most perfect Christian was the one who realized most fundamentally the extent to which he or she remained a sinner; a theology of the return to God, of citizens in exile, making their way home; of imitating and following Augustine in all things, which itself entailed seeing the pope as the vicar of Christ, Christ’s own delegated authority and power on earth. Jordan’s theology was a pastoral theology, a moral theology, a learned theology informed by the scholastic theology of the universities; it was an Augustinian theology, and was perhaps the most representative example thereof, for it was the theology of the sons of Augustine themselves. The Order’s religious identity, the Order’s ideology, became fused with and was comprised of the Order’s appropriation of Augustine, which led to what has been called the “Augustinian Renaissance.” This was indeed the Augustinian theology of the later Middle Ages.

Intermission Having reached the half-​way point in the present study, it seems fitting here to wrap up a bit with respect to volume 1 of this work, even with the realization that volume 2 is forthcoming and the work as a whole consists of both. That being said, volume 1, Concepts, Perspectives, and the Emergence of Augustinian Identity, has lain the foundation of a structure and over-​all argument that will continue with volume 2, The Sons of Augustine. That title, though, could well serve as the title of this present volume, and indeed of the entire work, indicating how volume 1 and volume 2 are intertwined. The treatment has been, and will continue to be, thematic, or even perhaps systematic, rather than chronological as such. Thus, the Introduction sought to set the stage by focusing on concepts and perspectives requisite for understanding Augustinian theology in the later Middle Ages within the historiographical context of the debates over the phenomena that have been labeled “late medieval Augustinianism.” Part i then began by attempting to delineate, to an extent, various Augustinian traditions based on the reception of Augustine’s texts, before turning to the specific tradition, and reception, of Augustine within the Order of Hermits of St. Augustine as the Order’s unique “father, teacher, leader, and head.” The appropriation of Augustine within the oesa provided the foundation of an emerging Augustinian identity and ideology that became fused with the Order’s political theology in constructing the most extensive expositions of papal hierocratic theory that had been written, as seen in Part ii. The cause of the papacy became the cause of the oesa, and to a large extent, vice versa. Yet to be the “true sons of Augustine,” the true sons of Augustine had to be taught, and had to be trained as preachers and teachers for their own Order and to fulfill their Order’s mission to society at large. As argued in Part iii, the lion’s share of such education took place within the Order’s system of schools (studia), only a few of which had become associated with a university, with Paris having primacy of place. Some of the Order’s outstanding lectors within the non-​university studia had received university training and had even served as regent masters at Paris. It fell to them to prepare the Order’s “next generation” of university theologians in providing the education requisite for members of the Order to be sent to Paris as well as to prepare the “next generation” of the Order’s teachers at the non-​university studia. Within the studia, and indeed at Paris itself, the academic, moral, and pastoral theology of the Order’s future theologians was formed. Before an Augustinian theologian became a theologian, he had first become an Augustinian. It is thus that the Order’s identity and ideology fused with the Order’s educational program

© Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, 2022 | DOI:10.1163/9789004504707_014

502 Intermission and pastoral mission, which together provided the prerequisite training and indoctrination for university study, comprising thereby the Order’s “religion,” the religio Augustini. In other words, the theological production of the Order’s theologians at the universities represents the most limited and unrepresentative evidence of that which can historically be described and labeled as “Augustinian theology.” In the introduction to Part iii above, I delineated the “four pillars” of late medieval Augustinian theology: 1. The Augustinian Political Theology; 2. The Augustinian Theology of the Studia; 3. The Augustinian Theology of the Universities; and 4. The Augustinian Moral Theology. The volume above has dealt with the first two pillars; volume 2 will treat the next two. These four pillars emerged within the context of the Order’s developing identity and ideology, contributing thereto in the process. It was this complex, or matrix—​of the Order’s identity and ideology, the Order’s political theology, the Order’s educational system at all levels, the Order’s academic, or “scholastic” theology, and the Order’s pastoral and moral theology—​that comprised that which can legitimately be described, historically seen, as the Augustinian theology of the later Middle Ages. Yet previous scholarship on late medieval Augustinian theology has focused almost exclusively on the Order’s theological production at the universities, thus having a very narrow and skewed view of what was and was not “Augustinian” theology. A distinction has been made between the Order’s “theologians” and its “spiritual and mystical” authors. This, as argued above, is a false dichotomy, that ignores the Order’s theological endeavor to reach the common people in fulfilling the Order’s mission as originally established in Pope Alexander iv’s bull Licet Ecclesie, and as expressed by Jordan of Quedlinburg as the Order’s most perfect life, the vita perfectissima, which was to bring the fruits of contemplation to the people at large in imitation of Augustine himself. This conception of late medieval Augustinian theology has been presented here above with respect to the first two pillars. It will continue with the second volume, turning to the Order’s university theology and moral theology. The argument as a whole will not be complete until all four pillars have been presented, but for now, an intermission, before the appearance of volume 2, which I hope perhaps more than anyone will not be too long of a wait.

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504 Bibliography Johannis Gaullensis, Communiloquium. Ulm, 1481. Digitalized online at: http://​ink​ unab​eln.ub.uni-​koeln.de/​vdib-​cig/​kle​ioc/​0010/​exec/​page​med/​%22gbiv​9147​_​dru​ ck1%3do​o45.jpg%22; Cologne, 1470. Digitalized online at: http://​tudi​git.ulb.tu-​ darmst​adt.de/​show/​inc-​ii-​541. Johannes Scotus Eriugena, De divisione naturae. pl 122, col. 439–​1022. Jordan of Quedlinburg, oesa, Opus Postillarum. Strassburg, 1483. Jordan of Quedlinburg, oesa, Opus Dan (Sermones de sanctis). Strassburg, 1484 Sigebertus of Glemboux, Chronica. pl 160, col. 57–​546. Thomas of Froidmont, ocist., Liber de modo bene vivendi, pl 184, col. 1199–​1306. Thomas Waleys, O.P., De civitate dei cum commento. Johannes Amberbach: Basel, 1489. Digitalized online at: http://​dig​lib.hab.de/​wdb.php?dir=​ink​unab​eln/​223-​9-​theol-​2f-​ 1&image=​00001. William of St. Thierry, Expositio in Epistolam ad Romanos. pl 180, col. 547–​694.



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Anderson, Wendy, Love, The Discernment of Spirits. Assessing Visions and Visionaries in the Late Middle Ages. Spätmittelalter, Humanismus, Reformation 62. Tübingen, 2011. Andrée, Alexander, “Glossa ordinaria.” In oghra 2: 1055–​1057. Anonymous, “Ecclesiology.” British Critic xxi (1837). Antognini, Robert, Il Progetto Autobiografico delle Familiares di Petrarca. Milan, 2008. Arbesmann, Rudolph, “Henry of Friemar’s ‘Treatise on the origin and development of the Order of the Hermit Friars and its true and real title,” Aug(L) 6 (1956): 37–​145. Arquillière, H.-​X., Le plus ancient traité de l’Êglise: Jacques de Viterbe, “De regiminie christiano (1301–​1302); Êtude des sources et edition critique. Paris, 1926. Arquillière, H.-​X., L’Augustinisme Politique. Essai sur la Formation des Théories politiques du Moyen-​Age. Paris, 19552. Backus, Irena, ed., The Reception of the Church Fathers in the West. From the Carolingians to the Maurists. 2 vols. Leiden, 1997. Barker-​Brian, N., “Contra Faustum.” In oghra, 1:196–​203.

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520 Bibliography Van Ravensway, Lange, Augustinus totus noster. Das Augustinverständnis bei Johannes Calvin. Göttingen, 1990. Verheijen, L, La Règle de saint Augustin. 2 vols. Paris, 1967. Vessey, Mark, ed., The Blackwell Companion to Augustine. Oxford, 2012. Visser, Arnoud, Reading Augustine in the Reformation. The Flexibility of Intellectual Authority in Europe, 1500–​1620. Oxford Studies in Historical Theology. Oxford, 2011. Visser, Arnoud, “Augustine in Renaissance Humanism.” In oghra 1:68–​74. Watt, J.A., “Spiritual and Temporal Powers.” In J.H. Burns, ed., The Cambridge History of Medieval Political Thought, c. 350-​c. 1450. Cambridge, 1988, 367–​423. Walsh, Katherin, Papal Policy and Local Reform: A) The Beginnings of the Augustinian Observance in Tuscany, B) Congregatio Ilicetana: The Augustinian Observant Movement in Tuscany and the Humanist Ideal. Römische Historische Mitteilungen 21 (1979): 35–​57; 22 (1980): 105–​145. Walther, Helmut G., “Aegidius Romanus und Jakob von Viterbo—​oder: Was vermag Aristoteles, was Augustinus nicht kann?” In Martin Kaufhold, ed., Politische Reflexion in der Welt des späten Mittelalters/​Political Thought in the Age of Scholasticism. Essays in Honour if Jürgen Miethke. smrt 103. Leiden, 2004, 151–​169. Warfield, Benjamin, Calvin and Augustine. Philadelphia, 1956. Watt, John A.,The Theory of Papal Monarchy in the Thirteenth Century. The Contribution of the Canonists. New York, 1965. Weber, Dorothea, “Confessiones.” In oghra 1:167–​174. Wei, Ian, Intellectual Culture in Medieval Paris. Theologians and the University c. 1100–​ 1330. Cambridge, 2012. Werckmeister, Jean, “The Reception of the Church Fathers in Canon Law.” In Backus, ed. The Reception of the Church Fathers in the West, 1: 51–​81. Wernicke, Michael, “Die Bulle Oblata Nobis Alexanders IV vom 20. April 1256.” An.Aug. 63 (2000): 53–​57. White, Hayden, The Content of the Form. Narrative Discourse and Historical Representation. Baltimore, 1988. White, James F., The Cambridge Movement. The Ecclesiologist and the Gothic Revival. Cambridge, 1962. Wilks, Michael, The Problem of Sovereignty in the Later Middle Ages. The Papal Monarchy with Augustinus Triumphus and the Publicists. Cambridge, 1963. Williams, George Huntston, The Radical Reformation. Philadelphia, 1962. Wills, John, 1688: A Global History. New York, 2002. Wranovix, Matthew, Priests and Their Books in Late Medieval Eichstätt. Lanham, MD, 2017. Wulff, F. and E. Walberg, eds., Les Vers de la Mort par Hélinant, Moine de Froidmont. Paris,1905.

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Yocum Demetrio, “De otio religioso: Petrarch and the Laicization of Western Monastic Asceticism.” Religion and the Arts 11 (2007): 454–​479. Ypma, Eelcko, osa, “Recherches sur la productivité littéraire de Jacques de Viterbe usqu’à 1300.” Augustiniana 25 (1975): 251–​256. Zins, K.A., St. Augustine Among the Mendicants: The Order of Hermits and early Renaissance Art in Italy. PhD Dissertation. The Pennsylvania State University. ProQuest Dissertations Publishing, 2016, nr. 10583709. Zumkeller, Adolar, osa, Das Mönchtum des heiligen Augustinus. Cassiciacum xi. Würzburg, 1950. Zumkeller, Adolar, Schriftum unde Lehre des Hermann von Schildesche. Cassiciacum 15. Würzburg, 1959. Zumkeller, Adolar, “Die Augustinerschule des Mittelalters: Vertreter und Philosophisch-​ Theologische Lehre.” An.Aug. 27 (1964), 167–​262. Zumkeller, Adolar, Manuskripte von Werken der Autoren des Augustiner-​Eremitenordens in mitteleuropäischen Bibliotheken. Cassiciacum 20. Würzburg, 1966.

Index of Modern Authors Not included in the following Index are names in the Tables and Figures in the text above and those in the bibliography. Aarnock, Robert G. 381n Anderson, Wendy 382n Andrée, Alexander 55n, 56n Antognini, Robert 136n Arbesmann, Rudolph, osa 154n, 350n Arquillière, H.-X. 196, 257n, 260 Backus, Irena 55n Barker-Brian, N. 63n Baron, Hans 83n, 97n, 101n, 103, 105, 114, 121 Barsella, Susanna 112n, 115 Baxandall, Michael 19n, 26 Beltran, Evencio 91, 93n Berkvall, Åke 84n Berger, Peter L. 165n Bernardo, Aldo A. 94n Bianchi, E. 94n Billanovich, Guiseppe 97 Binkley, Peter 59n Blythe, James M. 202n Boase, T.S.R. 292n Bochet Isabelle 27n Bourgerol, Jacques-Guy 55n Bradbury, Malcolm 5 Brady, Ignatius, ofm 55 Bray, Nadia 453n Briggs, Charles S. 206n Brînzei, Monica 34n, 394n Bruno, Michael J.S. 196n Bugnolo, Alexis, ofm 367n Burke, Sean 60 Burnaby, John xiii Burns, J.H. 197n, 287n Bynum, Caroline Walker 38n Callus, D.A. 72n Carrara, E. 94n Chadwick, Henry 294n Cohen, Marc S. 237n Coleman, Janet 287, 288n, 293n Constable, Giles 54, 55n Cosma, Alesandro 9n, 111n

Côte, Antoine 34n, 261, 279 Courcelle, Jeanne 9 Courcelle, Pierre 9 Courtenay, William J. 7n, 196n Cowdry, H.E.J. 301n Cracolici, Stefano 137n Crouse, Landon B. 273n Cruel, Rudolf 457, 469 Da Gai, Valerio 9n Dales, Richard C. 68n, 71, 75, 77n Dauphinas, Michael 74n David, Barry 74n D’Avray, David 30n Delisle, Leopold 59, 60 De Meijer, Alberic, osa 9n, 144n, 164n Denifle, Heinrich, op 208n, 229n De Wulf, Maurice 74 Dolbeau, François 496 Denzinger, Heinrich 295n Dronke, Peter 103n Duijnstee, X.P.D. 288n Dumont, Stephen D. 258n, 358n, 362, 363n Durkheim, Émil 192 Dyson, R.W. 196n, 205n, 246n, 260–264, 273, 275n, 277, 278, 396 Eagleton, Terry 26n, 195 Eardley, Peter S. 206n Eastman, John R. 207n Ehrle, Franz, S.J. 7, 208n Elias, Norbert 51, 143n Eliot, T.S. 23n, 465 Elm, Kaspar 149n, 159n, 177, 340n Enenkel, Karl 99n, 101 Evans, G.R. 33n Finke, Heinrich 264n Flüeler, Christoph 425n Freeden,Michael 25 Friedman, Russell 33, 34 Froehlich, Karlfried 56n

523

Index of Modern Authors Frymire, John M. 452n Fürst, Alfons 61n Garnett, George 399, 400n Gewirth, Alan 404n, 406n Gibson, Margaret T. 56n Gieben, Servus, ofm 68n Gill, Meredith 83n, 86 Gilson, Étienne 74, 196 Ginther, James 81n Giustiniani, Pasquale 261n Goffmann, Erving 165 Goris, Wouter 359n Graf zu Dohna, Lothar 184n Gray, Douglas 11, 49, 69 Günter, Wolfgang 163n, 184n Gutiérrez, David, osa 147n, 347n Guyot, Bertrand-G. 376n, 379 Hamesse, Jacqueline 30n Hamm,, Berndt 38n Harris, Mitchell 77n Haskins, Chalres Homer 54 Herbers, Cornelia 55n Hödl, Ludwig 358n Hoenen, Maarten 72 Hogg, David S. 15n Holweck, Frederick 425n Homes, Oliver Wndell 13 Housely, Norman 284n Howell, Martha 22, 23n Hunt, R. 72n Irvine, Michael 59 Jeschke, Thomas 358 Jotischky, Andrew 160n Kӓhler, Ernst 1n Kantorowicz, Ernst 296, 297n Kelly, Christopher 145n Kempshall, Matthew S. 265, 266, 268n, 269n, 274n, 288n Kieckhefer, Richard xin Kilcullen, John 288n King, E.B. 77n Kinzle, Beverly Mayne 30n, 478n Kirkham, Victoria 84n Klingshirn, William E. 145n

Kloppenburg, Bonaventure, ofm 295n Kneepkens, C.H. 63n Kristeller, Paul Oskar 85–87, 120 Köpf, Ulrich 40n Kuiters, Ralph, osa 144n, 148n, 153, 156 Lambert, David 61n Lambertini, Roberto 205n, 206n, 232n, 234–237 Lawn, Brian 72 Leclercq, Jean, osb 37n, 59n Lee, Alexander 83n, 119n Leff, Gordon 196n Le Goff, Jacques 58 Levering, Matthew 74n Lewis, Ewart 260 Leyser, Conrad 145n, 146n, 167n Lindberg, David. C. 463n Luciani, Évelyne 104 Luckmann, Thomas 165n Luhmann, Nikolas 27n MacCulloch, Dairmaid xn Macken,Raymon, ofm 76 Madigan, Kevin x Maggi, Armando 84n, 106, 115, 130n Mandonnet, Pierre, op 196 Mannheim, Karl 26 Marcolino, Venicio 394n Mariani, Ugo 9n, 274n, 275n, 288n Markus, R. A. 5n, 26 Marrone, Steven P. 74, 75n Marsh, David 84n Martelloti, G. 94n Martin, Francis X., osa 164n Mathes, Fulgence, osa 188n Matter, E. Ann 56 Mazzotta, Guiseppe 84n McCready, William D. 255n McEvoy, James 68, 69n, 79n, 80 McGann, Jerome 26n McGrade, Arthur Stephen 288n Mertens, Volker 458n Miethke, Jürgen 206n, 276, 288n, 293n, 424n Ministeri, P.B., osa 288n Minnis, A.J. 60n Moll, Wilhelm 443 Morris, Colin 2n, 293n

524  Nederman, Cary J. 399, 400 Nelson, Janet 197n Newman, Martha G. 59n, 60n Noble, Thomas F.X. 294n North, John D. 468n Oberman, Heiko A. xii, 6, 7, 8n, 28n, 31n, 42, 50n O’Donnell, James 11 Olszeweski, Mikolaj 285n Oser-Grote, Carolin 394n Overfield, James 8n Pedersen, Olaf 463n Pennington, Kenneth 293n, 299, 300n Pickavé, Martin 34n Pittiglio, Gianni 9n, 111n Plett, Heinrich F. 15 Pollman, Karla 14n, 53n Ponesse, Matthew D. 13n Ponte, Giovanni 128n Porro, Pasquale 76, 77n Previenier, Walter 22, 23n Quillen, Carol 83n, 84n, 89, 95, 103n, 105n, 123, 124n, 125n, 128n, 130n, 131, 132, 137 Quinn, John Francis 75n Rano, Balbino, osa 146, 147, 149, 150, 152, 200n Ricci, P.G. 94n Rico, Francisco 103, 113, 118, 121, 122n Ricoeur, Paul 72n Rivière, Jean 263n, 276, 277, 295n Rizzacasa, A. 260, 261n Robb, James H. 73n Rosemann, P.W. 69n, 79n, 81n Rossi, P. 72n Roth, Francis, osa 149n Rouse, M. 37n, 57n, 59n Rouse, R. 37n, 57n, 59n Saak, Eric Leland xn, xiin, 2n, 3n, 4n, 8n, 9n, 11, et passim Scanzillo, Ciriaco 363n Schabel, Chris 39n, 349n, 358, 359n, 362, 363, 365n, 369 Schiewer, Hans-Jochen 458n

Index of Modern Authors Schinagl-Peitz, Elisabeth 457, 458n Scholz Richard 255n, 262, 286n, 287n Schumacher, Lydia 76n Scott, Johanna 336n Seckel, E. 393n Shank, Michael 368n Sider, Ronald J. 1n Sieben, Hermann Josef 290n, 339n Smalley, Beryl 87 Smith, Garrett R. 359n Smits, E.R. 58n, 66n Southern, Richard 87 Stakemeier, Eduard xi Steinbach, Johannes 144n Steinmetz, David 9 Stock, Brian 103n Stroick, Clemens, omi 347, 348n, 349, 350n, 351, 358, 359, 362, 364, 370n, 457n Stoudt, Debra L. 30n Sturlese, Loris 349n Sturgis, Robert S. 258n Swanson, Jenny 88n, 132, 133n Tachau, Katherine H. 7n Tavolaro, Gianpiero 34n, 257n, 261n Tierney, Brian 297, 334n Thayer, Anne T. 30n Thompson, Jeremy C. 15n Tommasi, Chiara Ombretta 55n Trapp, Damasus, osa ix, xiv, 3, 6, 7, 8, 10, 25, 29n, 40, 41n, 42, 44, 50n, 51n, 82, 339n, 345, 476 Trinkaus, Charles 83n, 87n Troeltsch, Ernst 2 Ubl, Karl 275n, 276, 277, 281 Ullman, B.L. 97n, 101n, 104n, 106n, 110, 119, 120 Ullmann, Walter 260, 287n, 292n, 293n, 299 Van der Meer, F. 92n Van Gerven, P. Raphael 196n, 285, 288n Van Luijk, Benignus, osa 147n Van Moé, E. 288n Van Nieuwenhove, Rik xn Van Ravensway, Lange 1n Verheijen, Luc 145, 167, 177 Vessey, Mark 10n, 145n Visser, Arnoud 3n, 56n

525

Index of Modern Authors Walberg, E. 57n Walsh, Katherine, 162n Walther, Helmut G. 263, 264, 274–276, 282 Warfield, Benjamin 1, 2 Watt, John 293n Weber, Dorothea 55 Weber, Max 237n Wei, Ian 348n Werckmeister, Jean 55n Wernicke, Michael 144n Wetzel, Richard 184n White, Hayden 25, 26 White, James F. 294n Wilks, Michael 225, 284, 287n, 288n, 335

Williams, George Huntston 1n Wills, John 21n Wranovix, Matthew 441n Wulff, F. 57n Yocum Demetrio 100n Ypma, Eelcko, osa 266n, 362 Zins, K.A. 110n Zumkeller, Adolar, osa 6, 7, 10, 23, 34n, 145n, 146n, 258, 288n, 347n, 348n, 349n, 350–352, 359n, 362, 363n, 370n, 372n, 381, 385n, 387, 388n, 389n, 393n, 394n, 426, 431n, 445n, 453n, 477n

Index of Names, Places and Subjects Abelard, Peter 57 Absolutism 301, 314 Acre 264 Adam Wodeham, ofm 469 Adeodatus 4 Advent 453–​458, 460, 466, 470, 473 Aegidius Romanus (Giles of Rome), oesa xn., 27, 28, 35, 39, 40, 43, 93, 162, 169, 184, 196, 198–​208, 214–​218, 220, 222–​230, 232–​242, 244, 245, 247–​251, 253–​257, 260–​265, 272, 273, 276–​281, 283, 284, 287, 293–​295, 298, 301, 304, 309, 310, 318, 319, 324, 329, 335, 336, 340, 341, 345–348, 350, 358, 370, 395–​397, 412, 424, 425, 496 Aegidius Viterbiensis (Giles of Viterbo), oesa 29, 163–165, 169, 184, 190 Aeneas 127, 135 Alanus de Lille 297 Albert the Great, op 28, 75, 379, 457, 458 Alcherius Claravellensis, OCist. 74 Alexander iv (Pope) ix, 144, 152n, 155, 158, 159, 190, 198, 347, 502 Alexander of Alessandria, ofm 363 Alexander of Hungary, oesa 349 Alexander of San Elpidio, oesa 254, 349, 350 Al-​Farghani 460 Alfonso of Aragon 264 Alfonsus Vargas, oesa 35, 40, 338–340, 446 Algazali 28 Amadeus of Castello, oesa 349, 350 Ambrose (Bishop of Milan) 55, 66n, 118, 119, 177, 292, 377, 426 Ambrosiaster 144n Ambrosius de Cora, oesa 35, 36 Anagni 300 Anastasio ii (Pope) 419 Andreas Bodenstein von Karlstadt 1 Angermünde 444 animata lex 272 Anonymous Florentine, oesa 110, 159, 338, 398 Anselm of Canterbury, ob 14, 52, 378, 426 Anselm of Lucca 61 Anselm of Montefalco, oesa 34

Anthony of Egypt 158 anti-​Pelagianism/​Pelagianism ix, 6, 7, 42, 43, 44, 50, 52, 105, 123, 130, 141, 195, 290, 292, 340, 446 Antonius Rampegolus, oesa 162 apostolic poverty 166, 173, 187–​189, 332, 334, 336, 337, 416, 417 Aquila 164 Aragon 264 Aretino 148 Aristotle 17, 28, 29, 30, 54, 56, 69, 71–​76, 144, 202–​205, 224, 237, 240, 258, 259, 263, 271, 272, 275, 280, 282, 289, 292, 348, 366, 367, 384, 386, 396, 406, 408, 409, 411, 414, 419, 426, 443, 457n, 460–462, 466, 473 Aristotelian/​Aristotelianism 18, 367, 368, 397, 405, 406 Arnoldus of Toulouse, oesa 349 Articles of Faith 203, 402, 418n, 478, 482, 486, 490, 491, 496, 498 Assisi 359 Athens 95, 135 Augustine of Hippo (Bishop) x–​xiii, 1, 3–​6, 9–​15, 18, 19, 21, 24, 25–​27, 29, 36–​38, 40–​ 45, 49, 50, 52, 53, 55–​57, 61–​63, 65–​80, 82–​98, 101–​115, 118–​125, 127–​133, 135–​145, 147, 152, 158–​160, 163, 165, 166, 169–​185, 187, 188, 190–​192, 195–​197, 199–​205, 227, 243, 249, 253–​256, 258–​260, 266, 282, 283, 289, 290, 292, 294–​296, 298, 318, 319, 326, 331, 337–​340, 361, 362, 375, 376, 377, 379, 381, 383–​386, 395, 397–​399, 405, 406, 414, 417, 424, 426, 428, 442, 446, 449, 450, 462, 465, 466, 476–​478, 486, 496, 498–​500, 502 appropriation of 15, 25–​28, 35, 42–​45, 51, 54, 56, 67, 81, 82, 89, 93, 128, 133, 138, 139, 197, 198, 282, 283, 289, 290, 386, 425, 496, 500, 501 influence of xii, xiv, 13–​17, 24, 44, 46, 141, 289 impact of xii, xiv, 13–​17, 24, 44, 46, 141, 335, 336 reception of xii, xiv, 11, 13–​16, 24–​27, 44, 49–​51, 53, 54, 56, 57, 68, 71, 77, 80–​86, 88,

Index of Names, Places and Subjects 93, 104, 111, 112, 125, 129, 139–141, 197, 198, 200, 204, 253, 255, 256, 282, 289, 339, 501 religion of (religio Augustini) 2, 10, 23, 25, 35, 38, 42, 140, 142–​144, 159, 161, 166, 169, 173, 184, 186, 190, 192, 195, 196, 256, 328, 334, 335, 337, 339, 502 true sons of 3, 10, 28, 37, 41, 43–​46, 142, 143, 159, 161, 165, 166, 169, 176, 190–​192, 199–​201, 314, 336, 337, 340, 398, 442, 500, 501 Augustinian (see also Pseudo-​ Augustinian) xii, xv, xv, 6, 10, 12, 14, 23, 24, 27, 28, 33, 35, 39, 41, 43–​46, 49, 51, 52, 54, 61, 68, 69, 75, 83, 84, 136, 138, 139, 141, 143, 159, 160, 161, 165, 170, 184, 191, 192, 196–​198, 244, 249, 253, 255, 256, 263, 265, 285, 328, 336, 337, 339, 341, 345, 351, 358, 376, 384, 386, 431, 445, 452, 491, 499–​502 Augustinian Canons 13, 146, 160, 169, 173, 200, 336, 337, 338, 340, 398 Augustinian Hermits/​Augustinians (see also oesa) ix, x, xi, xv, 3, 9, 16, 17, 28, 34, 38, 40, 42–​44, 54, 84, 91, 129, 130, 137, 142, 145, 155, 160, 165, 168, 169, 173, 183, 184, 187, 190, 195, 197, 198, 206, 281, 301, 318, 328, 329, 331, 336, 338, 341, 345, 351, 358, 359, 394, 397, 425, 442 Augustinian Renaissance 6, 7, 9, 10, 15, 49–​ 54, 57, 61, 67, 68, 82, 139, 140, 143, 198, 199, 285, 339, 340, 345, 397, 398, 425, 476, 500 Augustinian School 6, 7, 10, 23, 394 Augustinianism xi, xii, xiii, xv, 4, 5, 6, 7, 9–​18, 20, 22–​25, 27, 29, 41, 42, 44, 46, 50, 53, 54, 74, 76, 82, 84–​88, 93, 104, 139, 166, 196, 197, 199, 201, 206, 257, 281–​283, 285, 338–340, 341, 346, 395, 399, 501 Augustinus de Ancona (a.k.a. Augustinus Triumphus) oesa 35, 199, 225, 232, 280, 283–​292, 295, 302–​326, 328–​341, 345, 346, 349, 350, 394, 398, 412, 419, 421, 422, 455, 491, 493 Augustinus Novellus de Padua, oesa 36 Ave Maria 394 Averroes 28, 71, 73, 258, 426, 457n Avicenna 71, 73, 76, 289, 473 Avignon 302, 313

527

Babylon 283 Babylonian Captivity 284 Bamberg 431 Bartholomeus Anglicus, ofm 58, 60 Bartholomew of Feldkirchen 1 Bartholomew of Urbino, oesa 290, 339, 340 Basil 69, 107, 109, 166n, 187, 377n Beauvais 57 Bede, The Venerable, osb 56, 67 Benedict of Nursia 321, 330n, 332 Benevento 257, 261, 262, 275 Benozzo Gozzoli 111 Bernard of Clairvaux, OCist. 59, 259, 292, 293, 384, 426, 443 Bernard Oliverii, oesa 350 Bernardus Silvestris 103 Bertold of Regensburg 458 Bertold von Bucheck (Bishop of Strassburg) 431 Black Death 441 body of Christ (corpus Christi) 228, 229n, 296, 300, 304n, 311, 326, 336, 352, 438 corpus Christi mysticum 296, 297, 311 corpus Christi verum 297, 310n, 311n, 312, 313n Boethius 73, 75, 101, 103, 122 Bologna 347, 362, 364n, 443 Bonaventure, ofm 39, 52, 75, 339, 367n Boniface viii (Pope) (Benedict Gaetani) 41, 42, 156, 200, 201, 203, 205, 206, 214, 215, 232, 233, 253, 255, 258, 260–​264, 266, 273–​276, 281, 283, 292, 293, 295–​298, 300, 301, 336, 337, 350, 369, 412 Bourges 207, 254, 256, 329 Brother Andreas, oesa 189 Brother Angelucio, oesa 188, 189 Brother Antonius, oesa 190 Brother Bartholomew, oesa 189, 190 Brother Remigius, oesa 191 Brother Simplicius, oesa 177, 181, 184, 185 Brother Walter, oesa 185 Brothers of Bernardus 148 Burchard, Archbishop of Magdeburg 444 Caesarius of Arles 169 Calvin, John 1 caput ecclesiae 226n, 297, 298, 300, 303, 313, 418, 421, 424n, 491–​493, 495, 498n

528  Carmelites (OCarm) 329 Cassiodorus 105, 407 causation 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 267, 405–​407, 410–​414 Celestine v (Pope) 156, 203, 206, 214, 264, 273 Celius Balbus 88 Centumcellis 110, 336 character 215–​223, 230, 231, 242, 309 Charles ii (King of Naples) 257 Christian perfection 302, 303, 314–​319, 326–​ 330, 332–​335, 337, 339, 417 Chrysostomus 80, 259, 260, 289, 426, 442 Cicero 88, 91, 107, 108, 113, 120, 121, 134, 135, 138 Cistercians (OCist.) 57, 59, 60, 74, 359 Clement iv (Pope) 156 Clement v (Pope) 369 coersive force (vis coactiva) 236, 241, 252, 410, 414, 420 College of Cardinals 231 Cologne 388 Colona Cardinals 203, 204, 206, 208, 214, 222, 226, 229, 231, 232, 273 communio fidelium 294 297, 403n, 404, 410–​412, 420 Condemnations of 1277 31, 364, 367 Constantine (Emperor) 283 Constantine of Erfurt 444 Costa de Acqua 148 Council of Trent xi, 293, 295 Creed 262, 482, 490, 491, 495, 496 Cyprian 108, 259, 292, 295, 298, 446 Damascenus 289, 426 Dante 301 Dido 125 Dietrich of Freiburg, op 349 Dionysius (see Pseudo-​Dionysius) Dionysius de Burgo of San Sepulchro, oesa 3, 97, 111, 121, 128, 137n, 138 Dominicans (op) x, 13, 33, 39, 40, 60, 256, 288, 314, 329, 340, 348, 349, 359 dominion of grace (dominium gratie), (see also grace) 196, 232, 235, 249 Donatism/​Donatists/​Donatist Controversy 244, 294, 319, 328 Duns Scotus, ofm 41, 349, 358, 359, 363, 368

Index of Names, Places and Subjects Early Modern Europe x, xi, 1, 2, 22, 44 ecclesiology 1, 2, 256, 257, 260, 282, 284, 292–​295, 301, 314, 315, 318, 325, 335, 337, 340, 397, 400–​414, 416, 482, 491, 492, 495, 499 Engelbert of Admont, osb 273 Engelbert von der Mark (Bishop of Lüttich) 431 epicycles/​retrograde motion 456, 459, 461n, 463, 465, 468, 469 episcopacy 217, 218, 220–​225, 294, 303, 305, 309, 312–​314, 319, 333, 439 episcopacy of Christ 313, 319, 335, 337, 340 Erasmus of Rotterdam 340 Erfurt 345, 348–350, 358, 364, 369, 386–​388, 395, 398, 425, 443–​445, 476 Erich von Schauenberg (Propst in Hamburg) 431 Eriugena, Johannes Scotus 70 Erlangen 382 Étienne Tempier (Bishop of Paris) 31 Eugippius 61 Eusebius 58, 67 fabula 125 Firmano 189 Florence 93, 164, 200 Florus of Lyon 55, 64 Foligno 164 Fourth Lateran Council 296 Franciscans (ofm) x, 33, 39, 40, 60, 71, 88, 160, 256, 288, 314, 328, 329, 335–​337, 340, 349, 416 Frederick of Austria 286, 323 Friedrich von Hohenlohe (Deacon at Bamberg) 431 Friedrich I von Hohenlohe (Bishop of Bamberg) 431 Froidmont 57 Frömmigkeitstheologie 38, 446 Fulgentius of Ruspe 55 Gabriel Biel 31n, 452 Gabriel de Cantiana, oesa 188 Galeazzo Visconti 129 Galen 473 Gelasius (Pope) 305 Gennadius 55

Index of Names, Places and Subjects Gerard of Bologna, OCarm. 362, 363, 364n Gerard of Siena, oesa 469 Gherardo, OCart. (brother of Petrarch) 112, 117–​119, 121, 129, 135 Giacomo Colonna, Bishop of Lombez 94, 96–​98, 100, 101, 103, 110, 122, 126, 134 Gian Galeazzo Visconti 340 Glossa ordinaria 15, 55, 56, 61, 259, 289, 291, 292, 376n, 379 Godfrey of Fontaines 39, 264, 265, 267, 269–​ 271, 277, 281, 359 Gotha 347 Gottfried (Bishop of Osnabrück) 431 grace (see also dominion of grace) 1, 2, 13, 42, 122, 132, 195, 204, 215–​217, 219, 252, 253, 271–​273, 278, 279, 290, 317, 327, 372, 376, 382, 417, 419, 430, 446, 447, 450n, 466–​468, 470–​473 Gratian 15, 55, 56, 61, 339, 426 Great Schism 6, 7, 38, 40, 93 Great Union (of Augustinian Hermits) (see also Little Union) 147–​150, 152–​155, 157, 159 Gregory vii (Pope) 2n, 279, 293, 299–​301 Gregory viii (Pope) 147 Gregory ix (Pope) 147, 148, 153 Gregory x (Pope) 156, 157 Gregory of Lucca, oesa 349, 350 Gregory of Rimini, oesa 6, 7, 9n, 28, 29, 40–​43, 50, 51, 160–​162, 164, 165, 169, 173, 184, 185, 188–​191, 338–340, 368n, 398, 446, 469 Gregory the Great (Pope) 88, 90, 292, 377, 384, 426, 446, 449 Guillaume de Nangis 57, 58, 60, 61 Guillaume de Nogaret 300 Guillaume de Pierre Godin 255 Guillaume Reddonensis 440 Heinrich von Brokelhusen (Hebdomador in Herford) 431 Helinand de Froidmont, OCist. 15, 52, 57–​ 68, 81–​83, 88, 93, 139, 141 Henry iv (Emperor) 301 Henry vii (Emperor) 369 Henricus de Rottleberode, oesa 352, 362 Henry of Cremona 255 Henry of Friemar, oesa 30, 41–​43, 110, 154–​ 160, 258, 338, 345–​352, 358–​385, 387,

529

394, 398, 444, 446, 447, 449–​452, 455, 457n, 468, 476, 499 Henry of Friemar, the Younger, oesa 352 Henry of Ghent 31, 39, 75, 76, 264, 339, 359 Henry of Langenstein 367 Herford 387, 388, 395, 398, 425, 431 Hermann of Schildesche, oesa 30, 345, 346, 358, 387–​395, 397–​399, 412–​442, 444, 452, 460, 499 Hermits of Brettino 147–​153, 155, 157 Hermits of Brother John the Good (Bonites) 150–​154, 157 Hermits of Mons de Branca 148 Hermits of Rosia 150, 152 Hermits of St. Mary’s in Morimundum 148 Hervaeus Natalis, op 363 Hilary of Poitiers 292 Honorius iii (Pope) 147 Hostiensis 375, 377, 426, 439, 440, 442 Hugh of St. Victor 110, 111, 160, 259 Hugolino of Orvieto, oesa 35, 36, 446, 469 Huguccio 221n humanism/​humanists 2, 18, 20, 45, 53, 83, 85–​89, 93, 95, 103, 120, 123, 128, 131, 133, 137, 138, 141 identity (see also religious identity) 4, 25, 43, 51, 144, 145, 157, 159, 165, 191, 192, 196, 200, 206, 281, 335, 336, 338, 345, 350, 397, 501, 502 ideology 10, 25–​28, 38, 39, 42–​46, 195, 196, 198–​200, 206, 234, 253, 256, 257, 260, 281, 283, 284, 287, 318, 335, 341, 345, 350, 351, 500–​502 immaculate conception 426–​431, 442, 459, 460, 462 Feast of 425, 427, 429–​431 Innocent iii (Pope) 2n, 79n, 147, 259, 260, 293, 298, 299, 300, 410 Innocent iv (Pope) 147, 149, 151, 153, 157, 158, 416 instantaneous change 461, 462, 468, 473 integumenta 103, 130, 136 Isidore of Seville 56, 259, 426, 458 Jacobo Bussolari, oesa 129 Jacob Wimpheling 340 Jacques Legrand, oesa 88, 91–​93, 111, 135, 137, 139

530  James of Thérines, OCist. 362, 363 James of Viterbo, oesa 34n, 199, 201, 242, 255, 257–​262, 264–​267, 269–​284, 287, 293–​295, 301, 318, 319, 324, 336, 341, 345, 346, 349, 350, 362, 374, 375, 395–​397, 412, 424, 425 Jean Gerson 31 Jerome 56, 58, 73, 77, 79–​81, 88, 90, 112, 118, 119, 292, 426 Jerome Seripando, oesa xi Jerusalem 95, 135, 283, 489, 491 John xxii (Pope) 42, 155, 156–​158, 165n, 198, 201, 284–​287, 301, 302, 313, 314, 323, 334–​340, 394, 395, 398, 410, 413, 416, 420, 424n, 425 John Blund 72, 73 John Chrysostomus (see Chrysostomus) John de Civita de Boaiano, oesa 185 John, Duke of Berry 91 John Hiltalingen of Basel, oesa 35, 40, 41, 43, 158, 160, 166, 345, 352, 394, 445, 446, 452, 469, 470, 473, 496, 500 John of Paris 275–277, 279, 358 John of Pouilly 39, 358, 359, 361–​363 John of Wales (Johannis Gaullensis), ofm 88–​91, 93, 111, 132, 133, 135, 137, 139 John Pecham 75 John Salisbury 52, 90, 279 John Wycliff 196, 197, 339 Johannes Blund 72, 73 Johannes Herolt, op 478 Johannes Nider, op 478 Johannes Staupitz, oesa 169, 183, 447 Johannes Teutonicus 377 Johannes von Vischenegge, oesa 387 Jordan of Quedlinburg, oesa xv, 2, 30, 36, 37, 43, 92, 110, 144n, 158–​160, 165, 166, 168–​178, 184, 187–​192, 198, 256, 331, 333, 334, 338, 345, 346, 348, 358, 370, 372, 387, 398, 443–​473, 475–​478, 482, 486, 489–​496, 498–​500, 502 jurisdiction (see also power of jurisdiction/​ potestas jurisdictionis) 307, 321, 395, 404, 410, 411, 417, 420, 422, 439, 493 Knights Templars 289, 350 Lanfranc of Milan, oesa 151, 154, 347 Laura (de Noves) 96, 97, 98, 103

Index of Names, Places and Subjects Lavoro 185 Law 204, 207, 224, 266, 268, 270–​273, 289, 292, 305, 321, 322n, 324, 325, 371, 376–​ 378, 381, 393, 394, 402, 403, 408, 415, 421, 424, 425, 440 Lecceto 162 lector/​lectorate 345, 348, 370, 387, 388, 395, 425, 443, 444, 452, 469, 473 legislator 402–​405, 407, 408, 410–​412, 414, 415, 419, 420 Leo the Great (Pope) 426, 459n Leonardus de Utino, op 478 Little Union (of Augustinian Hermits) (see also Great Union) 147, 148, 152, 154, 157, 159 Lombard, Peter xv, 15, 40, 55–​57, 61, 65, 82, 83, 140, 144n, 200, 201, 223, 224, 257, 289, 339, 348, 367n, 379, 426, 444, 499 Lord’s Prayer 168, 172, 394, 445–​451, 455n, 486 Louis, Duke of Orléan 91 Louis of Bavaria (Emperor) 42, 284–​287, 301, 314, 323, 324, 328, 336, 337, 340, 394, 398, 413, 416, 420, 425 love xiii, 13, 27, 80, 132, 171, 298, 315, 318, 326–​328, 371n, 372, 385, 422, 448, 470, 492, 496, 500 Lucan 91 Lucas Antonius de Giunta 28 Ludolf of Saxony, OCart. 445, 452 Ludovicus Martineau 29 Ludwig ii of Hessen (Bishop of Münster) 431 Luigi Marsilii, oesa 3, 128 Lupold von Bebenburg 425, 426 Luther, Martin xn., xi, 1, 2, 6, 7, 9, 17–​20, 42, 50, 141, 157, 158, 165, 169, 285, 340, 368, 375, 444, 446, 472 Magdeburg 388, 444, 476 magistri/​magister x, 30, 32–34, 39, 42–​44, 46, 161, 185, 189, 207, 264, 345, 348, 349, 364, 384, 388, 397, 425, 442, 444, 476, 496, 498–​502 Mainz 425 Marcellinus (Pope) 230 Margarette Porette 350 Marsilius of Padua 284–​287, 301, 326, 336, 350, 395, 398–​417, 419, 420, 424, 425, 442

Index of Names, Places and Subjects Matthew of Amelia, oesa 188 meaning 4, 5, 23, 26, 159, 195, 256 Meister Eckhardt, op 349 memory 4, 72, 159 mendicant theology 9, 38, 39, 345, 346, 370, 387, 425, 445 Milan 114, 120, 138, 340 Monica (mother of Augustine) 4 Mons Pisanus 110, 111, 135 Mont Ventoux 110, 113, 114, 118, 120, 136, 138 Montrieux 112, 118, 134, 136 Naples 162, 164, 190, 257, 263, 264, 275, 277, 283, 284, 292 Nicholas iv (Pope) 264 Nicolas of Alessandria, oesa 110, 159, 338, 398 Nicholas of Lyra 370 Nicholas Trivet, op 457n Novara 184 Nursia 164 nominalism 5, 7, 8 Ockham, William of, ofm 8, 39, 358 Octavianus Scotus Modoetiensis 29 oesa General Chapters  Regensburg (1290) 347 Paris (1300) 348 Rimini (1318) 350 Montpellier (1320) 387 Florence (1326) 387 Paris (1329) 388 Olivi, Peter John, ofm 88 Ordo Eremitarum Sancti Augustini (oesa) ix, xii, xv, 2, 6, 7, 9, 10, 13, 18, 19, 23, 25, 27, 29, 37–​40, 43–​45, 50–​52, 61, 111, 129, 130, 139, 142–​147, 149–​160, 166, 170, 173, 188, 189, 191, 192, 195–​198, 200, 205, 207, 254, 255, 262, 265, 274, 282, 283, 286, 318, 330, 334–​339, 346, 347, 350, 387, 395, 398, 443, 486, 501 Ordo Sancti Augustini (osa) 2, 9, 147–​152, 156, 157, 200 original sin 251, 360, 371, 376, 383, 406, 422, 423, 427–​430, 442, 459, 462, 464, 465, 468, 473 Osnabrück 387 Ovid 67, 91 Oxford 88 Oxford University 30, 31, 39, 42, 71, 72, 425

531

Paderborn 387 Padua 359 Papal Bulls  In Apostolicae Sedis (1187) 147 Iustis petentium (1205) 147 Sacrosancta Romana Ecclesia (1217) 147 Conquesti sunt (1228) 148, 153 Cum olim sicut intelleximus (1228) 148–​150 Quae omnium conditoris (1235) 148 Incumbit nobis (1243) 147, 149, 150, 152, 154 Praesentium nobis (1243) 147 Vota devotorum (1243/​1244) 149 Quia ex apostolici cura (1244) 151n Cum a nobis (1244) 148n Dilecti filii (1252) 151, 152 Admonet nos cura (1253) 151n, 153 Hiis quae pro animarum (1255) 152n Pacis vestrae (1255) 152n Ut eo fortius (1256) 155 Licet ecclesiae (1256) ix, 144, 145, 150, 152–​159, 347, 502 Meritis vestrae (1257) 155 Religionis vestrae meretur (1259) 155 Solet annuere (1260) 155 Provisionis vestrae (1262) 156 Devotionis augmentum (1265) 156n Sub religionis habitu (1271) 156 Clericis laicos (1296) 203, 266, 269, 273, 277, 281 Ausculta fili (1301) 261, 263, 264, 276, 277, 281, 301 Unam sanctam (1302) 232, 260, 262, 263, 276, 281, 283, 292, 293, 295–​297, 300–​ 302, 369, 412 Inter sollicitudines nostras (1303) 156 Vos electionis (1321) 370n Cum inter nonnullos (1323) 334, 416 Licet iuxta doctrinam (1327) 286, 395 Veneranda sanctorum (1327) 155, 157, 159, 165n, 198, 338, 398 Paris (see also University of Paris) 29, 33, 82, 88, 91, 105, 110, 130, 170, 185, 186, 189, 190, 198, 205, 262, 264, 273, 276, 277, 286, 339, 348–​350, 364, 369, 370, 384, 386–​388, 395, 397, 398, 443, 444, 477 Passion of Christ 251, 351, 376, 445, 450, 452, 464, 498

532  Patricius (father of Augustine) 4 Paul de Genzazano, oesa 29 Paul Lulmeus, oesa 35 Paul of Thebes (the first Hermit) 158, 177 Pavia 4, 67, 111, 129, 130, 155, 165, 336, 337, 338, 398 Perugia 164 Peter Auriole, ofm 39 Peter Flotte 301 Peter John Olivi, ofm (see Olivi, Peter John) Peter Lombard (see Lombard, Peter) Peter of Auvergne 359 Peter of Capua 37n Peter of Spain 239 Petrarch, Francesco xv, 2, 3, 9, 18, 53, 54, 83, 84, 86–​89, 93–​139, 141, 339, 397, 398 Philip iii (King of France) 201, 205 Philip iv (King of France) 42, 200, 201, 203, 205, 253, 258, 263, 264, 266, 269, 273, 281, 283, 289, 300, 301, 350 Philippe de Cabassoles, Bishop of Cavaillon 100, 101, 106 Pierre d’Ailly 367 Pisa 148 Pius x (Pope) 257 Plato 28, 29, 70, 71, 73, 75 Pliny 69 Poor Catholics of Brother Durandus de Osca 148 power of jurisdiction/​potestas jurisdictionis 214, 215, 222–​226, 230, 231, 241, 242, 249, 251, 253, 266, 280, 286, 303, 304, 306, 308–​315, 318, 322 power of order/​ordination/​potestas ordinis 214, 215, 219, 222–​225, 229–​231, 241, 242, 251–​253, 286, 304, 309–​313, 315, 318, 319, 322 power of the pope/​potestas papae 214, 215, 225, 226, 229, 230, 232, 233, 250, 267, 269, 273, 280, 290, 293, 301–​306, 313–​ 315, 318, 417, 420, 439, 491 predestination 2, 13, 42, 195, 226, 423, 446, 492, 498, 500 priesthood of Christ 207, 208, 215, 226–​ 230, 268 primitive Church 332 Prosper of Aquintaine 61, 259 Prosper of Regio, oesa 34n

Index of Names, Places and Subjects Pseudo-​Augustinian 55, 56, 61, 66, 74, 78, 82, 89, 104, 119, 170, 204, 258n, 259, 379, 384, 385, 426, 449 Pseudo-​Dionysius 73, 244, 246, 249, 253, 384, 426 Pseudo-​Peter de Palude 478 Ptolomey 473 Ptolomey of Lucca 202 Quintillian 91 Ralph of Beauvais 57 reformation x, xi, 1, 2, 3, 4, 6, 16–​24, 42, 44, 46, 49, 50, 54, 55, 86, 141, 157, 158, 164, 169, 173, 184, 186, 189, 190, 294, 451, 452, 455n, 478 Regular observance (observantia regularis)/​ Observant Movement 162–​164, 183, 191 Regensburg 350 religious identity xii, 27, 42, 45, 46, 51, 139, 143, 159, 195, 198, 283, 345, 500 Renaissance 3, 4, 9, 16, 18, 20–​24, 45, 46, 49, 51, 53, 55, 83, 85–​88, 91, 103, 120, 137 Richard Annibaldi (Cardinal) 149–​151 Richard Brinkley, ofm 469 Richard FitzRalph 173, 196, 197, 339 Richard Kilvington 469 Richard of St. Victor 71, 426 Robert de Bardis xv, 92, 110, 170, 177 Robert Grosseteste 15, 52, 57, 68–​73, 77–​83, 88, 93, 111, 139, 141, 396, 426 Robert Holcott, op 39, 367, 469 Robert of Anjou (King of Naples) 283, 284, 286 Rome 19, 164, 203, 264, 286, 294, 300, 302, 312, 313, 437 Rule of St. Augustine (regula S. Augustini) 13, 38, 110, 142, 145, 146–​ 150, 152, 154, 157, 160, 162–​164, 166, 167, 169, 170, 173, 176, 177, 185–​187, 189, 191, 201, 331, 333–​335, 384n Rule of St. Benedict 148n, 150, 332, 333 Rule of St. Pachomius 187 sacraments 219, 220, 421n, 432–​441, 498 San Gimignano 111 Sardinia 67

Index of Names, Places and Subjects schola Augustiniana moderna (see also Augustinian School) 6, 7, 10, 40 schola nostra 23 scholasticism 28–​33, 35, 39, 56, 59, 74–​77, 82, 345, 348, 349, 358, 364, 367, 368, 369, 447, 500 scientia affectiva 27, 40, 496 scientia practica 40 scientia speculativa 27, 39 Seneca 88, 91, 108, 378, 379 Sicily 264 Sicilian Vespers 264 Siena 164, 189 Sigebertus of Glemboux 58, 61, 62 Simon of Cremona, oesa 36 Simplicianus 486 Sixtus iv (Pope) 340, 425 Sorbone 61 Spoleto 185, 188 status 241, 242, 244, 245, 254, 313, 315, 319, 328, 329, 330, 335 Stephanus Tornacensis 297 Strassburg 36, 160, 452, 477 studia/​studium 9, 27, 30, 32, 33, 35 37, 38, 43, 45, 46, 110, 185, 186, 189, 254, 257, 263, 345, 346, 348, 349, 364, 387, 443–​455, 476, 498, 501, 502 subalternation 239–​242, 244–​248, 253 Tertullian 95, 135, 294, 298 Ten Commandments 370–​376, 381, 394, 446, 448, 450, 451, 486 texts/​textuality 4, 5, 6, 8, 11–​13, 15, 26, 49–​51, 53, 59, 60, 63, 79n, 82, 92, 119, 200, 256 Thaddeus of Perugia, oesa 9n Thagaste 110, 145n Themistius 28 Theophylactus 80 Theophrastus 28 Thomas Aquinas, op 28–​31, 39, 52, 73–​75, 82, 139, 141, 143, 200, 235, 255, 275, 348, 349, 358, 377n, 379, 426, 449, 478, 482 Thomas Bailly 362 Thomas Bradwardine 28, 42, 50, 339 Thomas of Cantimpré, op 58, 60 Thomas of Froidmont, OCist. 37n Thomas of Ireland 379 Thomas of Spilembergo, oesa 35

533

Thomas of Strassburg, oesa 34, 469 Thomas Waleys, O.P. 132, 135, 137 Todi 188 transformational sanctity 478 Treaty of Tarascon 264 Tübingen 8 Tuscan Hermits 148n, 149–​154, 157 Ulm 477 University of Paris 30, 31, 34–​36, 39, 40, 45, 200, 254, 257, 262–​264, 275, 280, 282, 284, 345, 348, 349, 358, 362, 364, 368, 369, 382, 425, 442, 452, 476, 498, 499, 501 University of Wittenberg 1, 2 Urban iv (Pope) 156 Valencia 29 Valerius, Bishop of Hippo 145n Valerius Maximus 88, 90, 91 Vatican Library 359 Vaucluse 100 Vegetius 88 Venice 28, 29, 201, 284, 292, 455 Venus 127 via antiqua 8 via moderna 7, 8 Vicar of Christ (vicarius Christi) 207, 208, 229, 231, 245, 254, 266, 267, 298–​300, 303, 306, 313, 318, 319, 320n, 324, 325, 328, 419, 421, 493, 495, 500 Vicar of God (vicarius Dei) 231, 246, 253, 300, 416–​418, 420, 421 Vienna 164 Vincent of Beauvais, op 58, 60, 66, 67, 91, 141 Virgil 91, 108, 125, 127, 131, 135 Waldensians 444 Walfram von Jülich (Archbishop of Cologne) 431 Wegestreit 8 William of Cremona, oesa 184–​186, 189, 190, 286, 337, 338, 395, 398, 412, 421 William of Ockham (see Ockham, William of) William of St. Thierry 64 Williamites 149 Würzburg 388, 425, 442 Zeno 71